《Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!》


 Chapter 1 - 1 Capturing Prisoners

    Chapter 1: Chapter 1 Capturing PrisonersThe setting sun cast its glow on the vast sea of trees, with clouds tinged in rosy twilight undulating like waves. The sky was as clean as a still lake, with a single wisp of cooking smoke rising faintly. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Beneath the smoke lay a rudimentary settlement, scattered with huts constructed of branches and tall grass. Dozens of tribespeople, clad in leather skirts, gathered around the central fire pit. They cooked, laughed, chatted, and played. The air soon carried the aroma of corn, wild vegetables, and the meat of some unidentifiable animal.


    Twelve-year-old Xiulote stood deep in the forest, gazing somewhat bewilderedly at the distant settlement.


    He had a handsome face, with black hair, black eyes, and yellow skin, and a clean little face. Atop his head he wore a conical cap, wrapped in an all-encompassing dark green cloak. Around his waist, he tied a brown loincloth that hung down just enough to cover his privates, and on his feet were soft deer leather shoes.


    In his right hand, he held an obsidian dagger a foot long, and his left hand was bound with a small shield that was large enough to cover his diminutive body. The most eye-catching feature was a specially made obsidian necklace that dangled from his neck down to his chest, a symbol of important status.


    Xiulote glanced ahead, seeing a group of fierce, strong warriors barely visible in the shadows of the trees.


    The warriors wore green leather armor, outlining their muscular frames. The cuffs of their sleeves and pant legs were dyed red, and they were all in the same undergarments and pointed leather caps. Most were barefooted, with a rope tied around their waists, with a leather wooden shield in their left hand, about half a meter in size, engraved with fearsome patterns. In their right hands, they held obsidian-tipped wooden staves over a meter long, with their sharp inserts already removed.


    At this moment, the warriors were crouched and silent, like beasts in the jungle, their eyes gleaming with danger and excitement.


    Perhaps sensing Xiulote''s gaze, two warriors stood up and walked over silently. The leading warrior was in his thirties or forties, exceptionally muscular. His face was painted with red and green stripes, and he wore a fearsome tiger helmet. Bright feathers hung from the back of his helmet, draping over a spotted yellow leather armor, making him resemble an upright walking beast.


    This was the empire''s elite, the leader of a 20-person squadron, a Jaguar nobility warrior.


    The Jaguar warrior approached Xiulote, "Xiulote, we are about to attack. This is your first battle, so you don''t need to follow us in the charge. You stand on the periphery, and if you see any wild people escaping, tell Ters. If you see a suitable opponent, you can also move in, but use your shield and dagger well."


    "Remember, you don''t need to capture prisoners, don''t hold back!"


    Having said this, he turned his head to instruct a young warrior beside him, "Ters, take good care of Xiulote, and don''t let him face the wrong opponent. If he can handle it, don''t intervene. Let him get a taste of blood for the first time. I will bring you two prisoners."


    Finally, the Jaguar warrior nodded at Xiulote. He grinned, showing teeth glinting in the light, then silently left again.


    The young warrior beside Xiulote was about twenty years old. He crouched down beside Xiulote with some dismay, "Xiulote, I will be right by your side. Later, you can pick out a lone little wild person or an old one..."


    "Ters, why are we attacking these tribespeople? They haven''t harmed us," Xiulote''s eyes filled with confusion as the "past" memories still swirled in his mind. Though beginning to blur, values from centuries later stubbornly persisted in his heart, in this cruel jungle era.


    "Why?" Ters scratched his head, "Because the new Tratuoani has just ascended to the throne, and we need more sacrifices for the coronation ceremony."


    "Then why do we need to spend so many lives on a sacrificial rite?"


    "Because it''s the gods'' preference..."


    Just then, a clear eagle cry rang out, followed by dozens of figures rushing out of the dense jungle.


    The warriors let out terrible howls as they surrounded the settlement from all directions. A "Jaguar" led the charge, its striped pelt dancing wildly, while the heavy obsidian stave moved like flashing lightning.


    He deftly slapped and knocked a young savage unconscious to the ground. Then, with a backhand strike to another''s waist, the man immediately fell to the ground, writhing in pain. The other Samurai were also continuously achieving victories. Even though the tribe''s numbers were four to five times that of the Samurai, the battle was lopsided.


    The short spears hastily raised by the tribal warriors were skillfully dodged by the Samurai, leaving shallow scratches on their leather armor. In contrast, the counterstrikes with clubs were powerful and forceful, knocking down the tribespeople in a single blow.


    A few tribal hunters began to resist, shooting their crude hunting bows and sending homemade short arrows into the Samurai''s leather armor. This was the last effective resistance¡ªthe hunters were quickly prioritized and taken down by the Samurai who were drawn to them.


    What followed was a one-sided chase and capture; the tribespeople scattered in all directions, fleeing for their lives while the Samurai either pursued them or took out ropes to tie up the captives that satisfied them. A Samurai began to toss the fire from the hearth toward the thatched huts, and soon both the flames and cries filled the evening sky.


    "Let''s go," Ters urged from behind. Xiulote, however, was transfixed by the tribal fire, with shadows flickering before his eyes and cries and laughter seeming both distant and close. Suddenly, a slender figure darted towards him from the front, their running accompanied by heavy panting, heading straight for Xiulote.


    "Be careful!" a worried shout came from behind. The figure in the front had also spotted Xiulote and thrust a sharp wooden spear directly at his small foe.


    Xiolote''s vision blurred momentarily; instinctively, his left hand raised the shield, and the wooden spear grazed against the thick hide and slid aside. Two years of rigorous training had ingrained the movements into his muscles like flowing clouds and water. Xiulote then stepped forward, and his right hand followed with a thrust, plunging the dagger deep into a soft object as a wet warmth quickly spread across his small palm.


    The figure in front hesitated, the wooden spear weakly striking the shield again, and then a second time, with rapidly diminishing force.


    Only then did Xiulote see the person before him¡ªa disheveled teenager. He was extremely thin, clearly suffering from long-term malnutrition. Merely fifteen or sixteen, his eyes filled with hatred stared intently at Xiulote.


    Soon, the teenager''s pupils began to dilate, and his body went limp, sliding down from the dagger and collapsing helplessly in front of Xiulote. His lifeless eyes were still fixed on Xiulote.


    Xiulote felt as if he had been struck. He staggered backward, the dagger slipping from his right hand to the ground as his knees suddenly buckled. At that moment, a pair of large hands reached from behind and steadily supported the young man''s shoulders.


    "Well done," Ters said with a smile, "The shield block and the thrust were very skilled. It seems the captain and the squad leader did a good job with the training."


    "I''ve killed someone, an innocent person..." Xiulote trembled slightly, his eyes losing focus as he murmured softly. Reality had ripped through the peaceful past, as if awakening him from a deep dream. This was the first time in this life or the last that he had killed a person.


    "What?"


    "Why?..."


    "What do you mean, why? Battle is the greatest honor, the greatest joy. Of course, sacrificial rites too. We''ll capture more sacrifices, and then we can look forward to this year''s coronation ceremony. I''m really looking forward to it." Ters smiled innocently, his eyes shining with joy.


    "Blood... Death... Is it destined to be this way?..."


    "Xiulote, what are you saying? Speak up, I can''t hear you clearly." Ters scratched his head.


    "Never mind, it''s normal to feel a bit dizzy the first time. I felt the same way during my first time, although you''re a bit younger. Oh, it looks like the captain has finished over there; let''s hurry over." Ters picked up the dagger and tucked it into Xiulote''s waist. Then, he half-dragged the young man towards Jaguar.


    Behind them, the body of a young boy lay askew on the ground, his eyes lifelessly staring at the sky. As the sunset faded, darkness swiftly swallowed him in the savage and wild American woods.

 Chapter 2: Captive

    Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Captive"You fools, injuring yourselves against such a small settlement!" before Xiulote, Jaguar Olosh was explosive with fury, roaring at several warriors scratched by long spears and short arrows.


    "Don''t just stand there, treat your wounds; smear them with agave juice and apply the ink tree leaves. If chosen by the God of Death Xiulotel, you might just rot on your way back through the rainforest!"


    Upon hearing this, the warriors took out their prepared small sacks of henequen cloth and began to treat one another''s wounds with these natural remedies.


    As a classic militaristic society with decades of warfare, the Aztec city-states had developed effective methods for dealing with injuries, utilizing antibacterial plants like agave and the ink tree.


    "And you, why tie up these old men and children? Carrying them on your back through the rainforest for days? Release them, all the old men, children, and frail women. That way, next time there''s a great sacrifice, we can capture more people."


    "Captain Olosh, here''s a hunter with an injured leg."


    "Hmm?" Olosh glanced at the tribal hunter on the ground, and Xiulote finally regained some focus, looking toward the hunter.


    The hunter, around thirty years old, had a weather-beaten face. He slightly lowered his eyes, his left leg twisted unnaturally, while a long spear and a single bow lay scattered beside his right leg. He curled up, silent, leaning near the fire pit.


    Olosh walked closer, kicking the spear on the ground away. He then glanced at the man''s slightly curled hand and calluses, his pupils dilating slightly as he reached for the Obsidian Club. "We can''t keep this one! Marley, you''ve just been shot by an arrow from the hunters, deal with this hunter yourself."


    "Yes, captain," a warrior with leaves on his right shoulder replied as he approached with a war club, his face wearing a cruel smile. He swung the club viciously down at the hunter on the ground.


    As the war club swung down, the hunter''s right leg suddenly kicked out, springing up from the ground like a hunting dog. His right arm extended, and at some point, he had obtained a bone arrowhead, which he drove straight toward Marley''s neck.


    Marley recoiled in horror, swinging his war club into empty air.


    Just as the arrowhead was about to penetrate his neck, an Obsidian War Club beat first. First the club slapped down on the hunter''s arm, instantly twisting it off target, and then the club spiked forward, striking the hunter''s chin with a crack as a bone snapped.


    Xiulote then saw the hunter''s eyes widen suddenly, those familiar eyes of hatred. The war club broke the hunter''s neck, and his head tilted as his body fell powerlessly to the mud.


    Marley recovered, angrily beating the body on the ground, the body swaying like a tattered doll under the blows of the stone club.


    Xiulote heard a stifled cry and saw nearby where the children were, a slender body twitching. An eleven or twelve-year-old girl was crying while looking at the hunter on the ground.


    "Enough!" Xiulote, fluctuating in his emotions, finally could not hold back, "Stop, he is already dead! What honor is there in tormenting the body of a brave warrior?"


    Marley whipped around, glaring at Xiulote with eyes that gleamed like a bloodthirsty wolf''s.


    "Stop, turkey!" Olosh frowned, "Be more alert next time. Go do something useful, tie up the young captives together."


    Only then did Marley stop, glaring at Xiulote once more before turning to leave.


    "Xiulote, how was today''s hunt?" Olosh strode forward, patting the young man''s shoulder fondly.


    "Xiulote took down a prospective warrior today, his shield thrust was excellent," Ters stepped forward to answer.


    "Good!" Olosh finally smiled, nodding, "Ters, go count the captives, those two over there are for you. Xiulote, what are you doing?"


    Xiulote crouched down, gazed into the lifeless eyes for a moment, then slowly closed the hunter''s eyes. The crying nearby seemed only to grow louder.


    Olosh, observing Xiulote''s actions, sighed lightly, "Alright, he was a warrior worthy of respect. Xiulote, do not waste time on the dead enemy."


    Xiulote nodded silently, unsure whether he was responding to a particular sentence from Olosh or perhaps none at all.


    "Captain, I''ve counted them, there are ''one palm of two palms minus one palm'' of suitable captives," Ters ran back excitedly to report.


    "5 times 10 minus 5, that''s 45," Xiulote calculated silently in his mind.


    This tribe had at most just over a hundred people, losing 45 young men and women at once, along with a few dead in battle, was almost a complete devastation.


    The remaining fifty or so elderly, weak, sick, and disabled, how long could they survive in this fierce jungle? Even if they struggled on temporarily, within a decade or two, when their vitality was restored, they would again be targeted by capture squads, continuing this bloody cycle.


    "In this era of brutal slaughter, what can I possibly do?" Xiulote thought silently as he watched the burning settlement.


    "Great! Each of us has about two or three captives, we can prepare to head back," Olosh nodded vigorously, shouting loudly, "The battle is over! Now, you can find some amusement on your own. But remember, turkeys: do not kill any of the sacrifices we can take back!"


    The samurai thunderously acknowledged the order, swiftly unfastened their shields from their left arms, and inserted their obsidian clubs behind their backs. They searched and then, with broad smiles, hoisted a captive each and walked toward the dark forest.


    Xiulote suddenly noticed Marley, that cruel samurai, directly approaching the crying girl.


    "Marley, what are you doing!" Seeing such a helpless girl and thinking about the fate she faced, Xiulote truly became angry. The youth rushed forward, vigorously raised his shield, and blocked Marley.


    "That old hound almost stabbed me to death with an arrowhead!" Marley also roared back, "I want to get back at him through his daughter!"


    "Scoundrel, you coward! A coward who picks on children!" Xiulote yelled furiously.


    "What did you say!" Marley''s eyes turned red in an instant, and he reached for his war club on his back. Being called a coward was the most despicable insult in the warrior-prizing Mexica society.


    "Do not draw weapons against your own people!" A roaring voice came through. "Jaguar," like a wild beast, rushed over, held Xiulote back with his left hand, and yanked with his right hand so hard that Marley staggered back, nearly flung away.


    "Xiulote, what''s going on here?" Olosh separated them, looking displeased at Xiulote.


    "Marley was about to harm that girl."


    "That girl is that hound''s..."


    "Shut up!" Olosh turned his head and yelled. His face was angrier than ever before. "Marley, I don''t care what you want to do, but you do not raise your hand against your own people!"


    "Xiulote is a warrior, and soon he will be a revered priest! War priests are sacred in the army; you must respect his will, especially over such trivial matters! Apologize to him."


    "But Xiulote is only twelve years old..."


    "Apologize to him, Makali!"


    "I''m sorry, Xiulote, I was wrong," Makali mumbled with his head low, his expression hidden. He forced out the apologies word by word, then cast a fierce glance at the girl hiding in the corner, and turned to leave.


    Olosh watched Makali leave with an angry look. He then turned, looked at Xiulote, and barely smiled.


    "Well done, Xiulote. Challenging a stronger warrior is the path of a samurai. These warriors are all untamable wolves; only by becoming stronger than all can you become a Jaguar who commands them."


    Then Olosh glanced at the girl shrinking in the corner, "This girl is too young and too frail to take back to the City-State. Whatever you want to do, just do it here."


    After hearing this, Xiulote nodded, stepped forward, and the girl, frightened, shrank back.


    The youth simply took a piece of cotton from his pocket, wiped the girl''s face clean of tears and dirt, and saw an unexpectedly beautiful small face.


    He was slightly surprised, then took off the food pouch from his waist and placed it in the girl''s hands; it felt ice-cold. After a thought, he also took off his cape and draped it over the girl.


    "Leave this place! Head north, the farther the better, and do not come back."


    The beautiful girl seemed to forget to cry. She stared blankly at Xiulote, unsure if she understood.


    The boy then nodded gently and smiled warmly at the girl.


    "Thank you, sir." Xiulote turned back but saw no one; Olosh had already left. The other children had also hidden away sometime earlier. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Remnants of his past life''s tenderness surfaced in the youth''s heart. He took off the obsidian dagger from his waist, placed it on the ground, and gave one last look at the girl before silently turning and leaving.


    "May I hide all my tenderness here, and then truly face this world! Everything can change, I can, and so can the world," the boy sighed softly. Then, he stood tall, his face set with determination.


    As if he had gone through a kind of rite of passage, Xiulote strode forward. Behind him, the girl''s crying sounded again.


    This time, the boy did not look back. He, like a newly born juvenile tiger, walked towards the jungles of Central America, facing the destined bloody future!

 Chapter 3 - 3 Return Trip

    Chapter 3: Chapter 3 Return TripThe samurais spent a sleepless night atop the ruins of the settlement.


    It was still the latter part of the dry season in Mexico, which corresponds to early February, so there was no rain throughout the night. Early the next morning, Xiulote rose from beside the campfire and went with Ters to fetch water.


    The most essential items in the rainforest were food and clean water. The semi-nomadic settlement could not have much food storage, so the warriors simply scavenged some smoked meat and cornmeal, showing no interest in the unknown wild vegetables, dried fruits, and insects.


    Olosh used sturdy agave ropes to organize the captives into two parallel lines, then led Xiulote and Ters, with half their troop clearing a path upfront while Makali and the other half followed behind.


    The paths in the rainforest were always rugged and difficult, with tall trees blocking the sky and colorful venomous snakes amidst the branches. Swamps and mud pits were scattered underfoot, and the waterweeds teemed with poisonous frogs and mosquitoes.


    Here was a green desert, each still pond hiding parasites and venom.


    Luckily, Olosh was not only a courageous jaguar warrior but also an expert in jungle survival. He applied a pungent ointment on everyone and quickly found a river. The group then followed the relatively clear riverbank, winding southward.


    Walking along the muddy riverbank, Xiulote carefully kept a distance from the "dead wood" in the river to avoid encountering surprises like jaguars. Curiously, he asked Olosh, "Teacher, where does this river lead?"


    "This river is called Tampen. If you follow it upstream, it takes you past two city-states of the alliance. In just over half a month, we could return to the Holy City of Teotihuacan. Three days south of there lies the great capital city of the alliance, the sun god''s promised home for the Mexica people, the city in the lake, Tenochtitlan.


    What a grand and beautiful city it is! There are a thousand canoes laden with goods, a thousand Chinampas planted with corn, a thousand communities full of Mexica warriors, and a thousand boulders piled up in the Great Temple! It is the greatest city-state of the alliance and the center of the world. Both your family and I come from there."


    Xiulote nodded. Tenochtitlan was the capital of the Aztec city-state alliance and the wealthiest and most powerful of them all. This magnificent lake city ultimately fell to Spanish colonizers, signifying the demise of the Aztec civilization.


    Above the ruins of Tenochtitlan now stood Mexico City, loyal to the Lord.


    After pondering the prosperity and beauty of the capital city for a while, Xiulote again asked, "Teacher, have you ever been to the lower reaches of the Tampen River?"


    This time, it was Olosh''s turn to fall into reminiscence. After a long while, he answered, "Many years ago, I followed the great Montezuma I on a campaign against the Vastec city-states. From here down the Tampen River, after more than twenty days of travel crossing the mountains, you reach the plains. At the end of the plains and the forest lies the Vastec city-state of Cukuxicapan.


    Behind the city-state lies a boundless great lake, which is the end of the world but also leads to every corner of the world.


    The lake contains many distant islands. Tribesmen from those islands would arrive by boat to trade feathers, pottery, and cotton fabrics. Legend has it that to the north of the great lake lies an endless forestland, inhabited only by savages experiencing terrifying divine calamities annually that slay all life with white ash."


    Xiulote paused, realizing that the Great Lake was the Caribbean Sea, the islands were the Caribbean archipelago, and the forested and snowy continent was North America. There was no mountain range running east-west across North America, and during winter, a dreadful cold wave from the Arctic swept down, destroying all settlements, repeatedly devastating emerging civilizations.


    For the Aztecs of the Stone and early Bronze Ages, the city-states of warm Central America were their entire world. In the rainforest, without roads and carriages, a three or four-month walk, covering at most five to six hundred kilometers, was the limit of their known world.


    In their world, the city-states of the Maya on the southeastern Yucatan Peninsula were difficult to reach as foreign lands, the islands in the Caribbean Sea of the Eastern Lake were tales told by the elders, the Indian tribes of North America and the Inca Empire of South America were unknown legends, not to mention the distant Spanish conquerors yet to arrive from across the ocean.


    Contemplating the unknown world and future, Xiulote fell silent and simply followed Olosh. The paths of the rainforest also greatly drained his strength.


    During the march, the troop paused once upon discovering a wild deer drinking by the river.


    Olosh ordered everyone to be quiet. He advanced alone, taking a two-meter-long wooden javelin and fitting the feathered end onto a one-meter-long javelin thrower. Grasping the javelin thrower in his right hand and using the trees for cover, he crouched and stealthily approached the target.


    The jaguar warrior seemed to blend into the woodland. He stealthily approached to within thirty meters of the target when suddenly, the deer stopped drinking and lifted its head to look around, seemingly sensing something. At that moment, a shrill whistling sound met the air, and then the deer collapsed heavily, instantaneously lifeless.


    The warriors all cheered together, chanting the name "Jaguar." Even the distant captives couldn''t help but show fear on their faces.


    Xiulote stepped forward to examine it and saw the javelin deeply embedded in the deer''s heart, its force so great that it passed right through the body.


    The youth was astonished by the precision and power of this long-range weapon. With a mix of admiration and envy, he said, "Teacher, this javelin is incredible, can I learn to use it?"


    Olosh''s face showed a hint of pride as he nodded and then shook his head.


    "I will teach you, but it takes more than a year or two to master the javelin. Soon you will enter the Temple to begin your Priest training. The Alliance never lacks Jaguar nobility warriors, but every Priest is sacred and important."


    Having said this, Olosh set up camp by the river, lit a fire, and had Ters prepare the deer carcass, skinning and smoking the meat. He sent half the warriors into the woods to hunt, to replenish their food supplies. He himself took out a small obsidian knife, reshaping the tip of the javelin by the campfire and baking it dry over the fire.


    In terms of sharpness, wood and stone weapons could perhaps compare with early bronze weapons, but their durability was worlds apart.


    Thus, they trekked for two or three days, the altitude gradually increasing, the trees thinning out, opening up their view.


    From a distance, Xiulote finally saw a wisp of cooking smoke rising, sparse corn growing in the vast fields. The fields were crudely marked, a sizable village slowly coming into view at the end of their sight.


    As the group of warriors approached, a sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air in the village.


    Xiulote saw chaotic figures gathering in the village, while Olosh led his troops to stop about a hundred meters away in an open field; twenty warriors stood silently, shields and clubs at the ready.


    After a while, a bustling crowd surged out of the village, over two hundred strong men wielding various wooden clubs and stone spears, and about ten hunters clutching crude, easily broken bows and slings. At the forefront, they were clustered around an old man adorned with feathers and silver decorations.


    The elder, seeing the "Jaguar" attire, wore an unmistakable look of anxiety. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He rushed forward with several villagers, bowed deeply, and said, "Esteemed Jaguar warrior, I am the village Elder, what brings you to our village?


    Our Vastec people have been submissive to the great Alliance for many rainy seasons; we have always made our tributes on time. The tribute for the beginning of this year was even paid early. The harvest season hasn''t arrived yet, and our storage contains neither grain nor hides."


    "The great Asayacatl has returned to the Heavenly Divine''s realm, and his brother Tizoc has ascended as the new Tratuoani. A grand coronation ceremony will be held this year!" As he mentioned the coronation ceremony, Olosh glanced at the village Elder.


    Fear appeared on the Elder''s face, and he immediately fell to his knees, "We Vastec people have never wavered in our loyalty to the Alliance; we are willing to offer more tributes to celebrate our great King''s ascension."


    "Very well. As long as you remain loyal to the Alliance, you will not become sacrifices at the ritual. We have just returned from capturing Sacrifices in the northern jungles." As he spoke, Olosh pointed to some captives in the distance. "We now need food for a hundred people for ten days, mainly cornbread and the rest in black beans."


    "Of course, we won''t take without giving." After observing the Elder''s rather unpleasant expression and looking over at the two hundred armed men nearby, Olosh thought for a moment and pulled out a small, bulging cotton bag, handing it to the Elder. "This is two palm-sized pieces of cotton and two handfuls of cocoa beans. We just captured them and are in a hurry to return to the city, so we will not linger in your village."


    This statement acted like the final weight tipping the scale, and the village Elder reluctantly nodded.


    The Elder went back among the villagers and loudly gave a few orders. A small commotion ensued among them, which was quickly subdued under the Elder''s scolding. Then two villagers went to the largest building in the village and carried out two large bundles of cornbread, each holding a large pottery jar.


    Xiulote saw them bowing their heads, fearfully handing over the cornbread and pottery jars to the warriors. Once back among the villagers, however, their expressions turned resentful.


    Olosh weighed the cornbread, opened the pottery jars, tasted the black bean paste inside, and then nodded satisfactorily to the village Elder before gesturing for his men to follow. The warriors then tucked their obsidian clubs behind their backs, taking the food and captives with them as they departed.


    After walking for a while, Xiulote looked back at the distant village, where the villagers seemed to still be holding their crude weapons, watching as the warriors left. Cooking smoke still rose slowly from the village, flames seemingly flickering quietly beneath it.

 Chapter 4 - 4 City-State

    Chapter 4: Chapter 4 City-StateAfter leaving the Vastec village, the team hurried southward for another two days.


    The rainforest had long since disappeared, replaced by sparse mountain forests. The sky became clear and open, and the traces of human activity grew increasingly dense along the journey. The land became fertile and easy to farm, with roughly cultivated fields spreading out along the banks of rivers.


    It was not until midday that Xiulote saw a small lake with a floating island-like field in the middle, at a tributary of the Tampen River.


    The edges of the floating field were supported and fixed by a fence, half of which was submerged in water. The center of the floating island was neatly intersected by canals, dividing the island into uniform plots. Atop the fields of the floating island, corn, pumpkins, and beans¡ªthe three main crops¡ªwere densely planted, along with chili peppers, sunflowers, and precious herbs.


    "This is the first Chinampa on the way back," said Olosh, finally showing a smile as he looked at the field in the lake. "We''ve finally returned to the land of the Mexica city-states. We can have a good night''s sleep tonight. Mestitlan City-State is not far ahead. Xiulote, you and Ters can go for a stroll in the central market and buy some small items you like."


    Indeed, not long after Xiulote set off, a city in the Middle American style appeared near the river.


    A ring of earth and stone walls about four or five meters high could also be called a strong city in the Middle Ancient Times, decorated with dark red patterns. Beyond the walls, one could immediately see the unique twin pyramids of the Aztecs, towering dozens of meters high, dedicated to Tlaloc, the deity of agriculture, and Huitzilopochtli, the Guardian God.


    It was still the afternoon, and the city gates were wide open. Villagers began to return from the city, mostly bare-chested with only a long cloth tied around their waists, carrying newly bought stone and pottery. Very few tightly held a length of cotton cloth and hurried away with care.


    The city-state warriors wore white or yellow vests as regular uniforms, with loincloths or leather skirts tied at the waist, carrying small shields and war clubs on their backs. They gathered in groups of three or five, discussing something. The sound carried on the wind, and the young man faintly heard words like "legion", "war", "Otomi people".


    A little further away, several nobility and priests sat calmly on palanquins carried by slaves, slowly approaching as peasants and warriors made way for them.


    Xiulote glanced at their colorful shawls and feathered headdresses, then at the flowers and herbs on the palanquins, guessing they had just returned from a walk in the noble''s gardens.


    The youth smiled, the Aztec social hierarchy was indeed clearly visible at a glance. In short, the more you wore, the higher your status, the more splendid the colors, the more veneration you received.


    The team set up camp outside the north gate, and Olosh left a few warriors to guard the captives, exchanging a few words with the gate guards. The Jaguar warriors then led the team into the city, and it didn''t take long for the warriors to disperse to find their own amusement.


    The moment he entered, the city gate guard caught a glimpse of the Obsidian Necklace around Xiulote''s neck, his face showing a mix of surprise and reverence.


    The first thing Xiulote saw upon entering the city was the Pyramid Temple. The temple was the center of the city, with divine authority ruling over the city-state.


    Below the temple was the central square of the city-state, spanning thousands of square meters. On festival days, it served as a sacrificial site and was also a market for everyday trade, reminding Xiulote of the farmers'' markets in his "past hometown".


    Around the farmers'' market were small stalls of villagers and city-dwellers, with a variety of goods. Peasants brought turkeys, dogs, rabbits, corn cakes, black bean paste, pumpkins, chili, sunflower seeds, and last year''s avocados.


    The city''s potters, on the other hand, sold various daily use pottery, some also offering stone farming tools.


    At one booth, Xiulote spent two cacao beans for a handful of sunflower seeds. He cracked them as he wandered around aimlessly, followed by Ters who was also looking around curiously.


    A turkey was worth eighty cacao beans, a corn cake about three cacao beans, and the price of black beans and pumpkins was roughly the same. A pottery soup pot was around one hundred cacao beans.


    The young man then saw a farmer shove a turkey, several corn cakes, and a jumble of avocados and cactus tubers all at once to a potter, taking away a large pottery jar and leaving happily. Neither farmers nor potters were likely to have enough cacao bean currency. In fact, most transactions in the market were barter trades.


    Moving further inside were the craftsmen with their myriad Obsidian products dazzling the young man, with shapes of warriors, animals, divine symbols, various small statues catching his eye.


    Xiulote looked around, wanting to pick a warrior statue for his father in this life, but feeling something wasn''t quite right with the various "expressive", primitive faces. He then continued further into the market with Ters.


    Walking deeper in, there was a sense of a more formal market. Xiulote passed the boundary where several warriors stood and was surprised by the bustling inner market.


    The lead warrior, wearing a pointed hat, looked stern and unyielding. He first stared fiercely at Xiulote, then was drawn by the Obsidian Necklace on the young man''s neck. The warrior''s gaze lingered on the necklace for a moment, then without a word, he turned his head back to watch the outside.


    A gleam of precious metals filled the inner market. The youth saw simple and elaborate stalls alike, each displaying an array of silver and gold ornaments.


    The streets were bustling with nobility clad in colorful robes and adorned with gold and silver. There were also priests with necklaces and long feathered headdresses.


    Xiulote turned the corner of the street and was immediately astonished to see Olosh. The imposing Jaguar Warrior was lounging in front of a fancy fabric tent, contentedly puffing away with a lit cigarette clasped between his fingers. The group of people around him also looked satisfied as they shared this relaxing ambiance.


    The youth approached to take a closer look. The cigarette was wrapped in leaves, filled with dried tobacco leaves, mixed with unknown herbs and spices.


    Turning his head to look at the shopkeeper, he was shocked again to see a head fully twice the length of his own, which "elegantly" curved backward from the forehead, extending into a long, crest-like skull cap adorned with tall feathers and hanging silver ornaments, as if an alien had descended.


    Xiulote stepped back in surprise, finally seeing the shopkeeper''s chubby face with a sincerely warm smile radiating from it.


    "Greetings, young priest," the round-faced alien quickly glanced at Xiulote''s Obsidian Necklace and smiled even more sincerely.


    "As you see, I have newly acquired Divine Smoke from the distant eastern Rainforest Holy Land, the sighs of the gods left among mortals. Just a tiny one allows you to connect with the gods for a quarter of an hour, to feel the wonders of the Divine Kingdom."


    With that, the "alien" took out a small cloth bag the size of a palm. "As a gift for our first meeting, this bag will only cost you a small gold ornament, or cloth enough for two people, or five hundred cacao beans."


    "Cunning Maya!" Xiulote had not replied when he heard Olosh''s signature roar. "I''ll flatten that misshapen head of yours with an Obsidian War Club! This is my student Xiulote, how dare you try to cheat him! Cloth for two people is enough to buy five bags of your low-quality cigarettes!"


    "Oh, Olosh, it''s your student," The alien was neither scared nor angry, just chuckled softly.


    "Well then, let me introduce myself. I am Tikalo, a Pochteca who specializes in long-distance trade, from the distant eastern Rainforest City-State of Tutulxiu. A long skull is a symbol of our divinity. We Maya nobility are descendants of the gods, inherently graceful and kind, and forever friends of you Aztec people."


    "Damn it, call me a Mexica, don''t use the general term Aztec!" Olosh said discontentedly.


    "Alright, respected Mexica Jaguar Warrior. When are you going to pay back the cotton and cacao beans you owe me?" Upon hearing this, the youth''s teacher suddenly fell silent.


    "By the way," Maya merchant Tikalo winked at Xiulote again, "Now you can buy five exquisite bags of cigarettes from me with five hundred cacao beans. Trust me, the priests love this flavor."


    Xiulote was curious about what the original Maya cigarettes tasted like. Olosh, however, was strongly against it. "Trying Divine Smoke too early can drain vitality, sapped by the gods, and is detrimental to a warrior''s strength."


    Then, the Jaguar Warrior almost carried Xiulote away under his arm, leaving the Maya shop behind.


    "Those Maya nobles are all no good," Olosh grumbled as he walked, "Sly as monkeys in their thoughts, weak as squirrels in their bodies, dressed like buntings, yet with silver tongues and unfailingly accurate with numbers! Somehow you always end up owing them money. If we were on the battlefield, I could take on ten of them!"...


    Xiulote couldn''t help but want to laugh, yet dared not make a sound. He simply looked back at the Maya merchant who stood out from the crowd.


    In his past life, he had visited Cancun, watched so-called "Maya" performances in a large theme park, and driven around the marvel that was the Chichen Itza pyramids. What had been mere hours of flying and driving now seemed like a mighty chasm.


    The arduous half-a-year journey through the rainforest and the treacherous solo canoe trip on the sea made a return to Chichen Itza seem like a wish for a lifetime. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What is the present splendor and beauty of the Maya City-States like now? Possessing Yucatan, I could soon reach the Caribbean island tribes and maybe even the European landing points." The youth''s mind wandered as was its habit.


    "Perhaps, when I return to Chichen Itza again, it will not be alone." Following Olosh, he looked at the majestically fierce Tiger Helmet of the Jaguar Warrior, against the backdrop of the imposing Aztec pyramids.


    Unaccountably, a new, conquering desire began to smolder within the Mexica boy''s chest, the heart of a warrior.


    "Mexica warriors will always face the known world with their own weapons! To conquer the unknown future!"

 Chapter 5 - 5 Empire

    Chapter 5: Chapter 5 EmpirePerhaps it was because they were taking captives, or perhaps it was encountering a creditor, or maybe some news had been overheard from the military nobility of the city-states. The next morning, Olosh''s roaring voice hurried everyone to rise and set off southward along the smooth riverside dirt road.


    Ever since entering the Mexican Plateau, the road southward had been comfortable and safe.


    The end of the dry season in Mexico was still cool and dry, with the sky high and the clouds sparse, and without the bothersome rain of the lowland jungles, the roads were sufficiently flat. Villages along the way were populous, with fruit trees providing shade, and cactus and agave were crops unique to the highlands.


    Alongside the rivers were countless productive floating gardens, chinampas, and single log canoes shuttled on the rivers, with merchants and travelers coming and going incessantly.


    This was the actual controlled area of the Aztec city-state alliance, the core of the empire consisting of a dozen Mexica city-states, encompassing the essence of the Mexican Valley. After entering here, Olosh''s mood visibly improved. Whenever he had the chance, he would talk to Xiulote about the "great city-state alliance."


    According to Xiulote''s understanding, Lake Texcoco was "the heart of the alliance," rapidly connecting the city-states along the lake. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At the imperial center were the sacred three cities, with Tenochtitlan in the middle of Lake Texcoco, Texcoco on the eastern side of the lake, and Tlacopan to the west of the lake. The leaders of the three city-states were also the joint sovereigns of the alliance; in the words of Xiulote''s homeland, they were the great, second, and third chieftains. Of course, their status depended on the military power each city could mobilize.


    For the sake of easy recollection, Xiulote internally tagged the three cities according to their geographical position and current state: Tenochtitlan, ''the heart of the empire, an unparalleled city of stone. Texcoco, ''a flourishing cultural center with an independent heritage. Tlacopan, ''a firmly controlled strategic location, close to the former capital of the Tepanec people.


    Beyond the three cities and within two weeks'' communication from Tenochtitlan were a dozen or twenty Mexica city-states, which constituted the core of the empire, the areas that could actually be controlled.


    According to Olosh, to the northeast, marked roughly by the recently passed Mestitlan City, lay the "loyal vassals" of the Vastec people who had been subjugated for over a decade, with a moderate population. The empire collected a substantial amount of grain, leather, and feathers from there every year.


    Xiulote drew a circle in his mind and took note, "Similar to the state of Yan, location northeast, military medium, diplomacy tribute."


    Toward the west-northwest were the "hyenas and coyotes," the Otomi people, who were constantly being conquered and driven away.


    Over these hundred years, the Otomi people were expelled from the fertile Mexican Valley by the Mexica and Nava people, scattered to the north, yet they repeatedly managed to establish new city-states on the frontiers. Their population was numerous; their direct military might was not too strong, but they were sufficient resilient and enduring. Xiulote drew another circle in the northwest and remembered, "Similar to the Xiongnu, position north, military medium, diplomacy hostile."


    To the southwest, with Razico City as the boundary, further to the west lay the tough adversaries the "hard stones" Tarasco people, who possessed "unbelievably hard" bronze weapons and were the only known copper mine location in the world.


    The empire''s only disgraceful defeat occurred in the war with Tarasco two years ago, with numerous bloody battles and at least three legions of eight thousand soldiers killed in action.


    Tenochtitlan had at one point issued a city-state mobilization order, one able-bodied man per household, forming an army corps of one hundred thousand troops. Intimidated by the empire''s terrifying war capacity, the Tarasco city-state alliance withdrew from the empire''s territory, turning to the west and north, attacking the small city-states of the Tekos instead.


    Between the two nations, a tacit and stable peace was maintained. Xiulote drew a large circle to the west and noted, "Similar to Chu, position west, plentiful military, diplomacy neutral."


    Slightly further south lay the "weed-like" people of Jontal, scattered along the Balsas River, with a sparse population, who had been subjected to the empire for many years; some small Mexica immigrant cities were already beginning to rise in this region.


    Xiulote tagged them, "Similar to the Rongdi, position south, less military, diplomacy submission."


    Farther south, until reaching the Pacific coast, lay the "weak and powerless" southern city-states: from west to east were the Tlapanecs, the Mixtecs, and the Zapotecs. These city-states, closely related by blood, were forced to submit to the Empire''s tributes under the "great Montezuma I" and yet they, too, formed alliances with one another to jointly resist the pressures of the Empire,


    The tag noted by the young man read "similar to Songweizhongshan, located in the south, with moderate military force and tributary diplomacy."


    Beyond the mountains east of the Mexican Valley, and farther east, were the Empire''s "fierce adversaries," the Tlaxcalans, with whom war had raged for decades.


    The Tlaxcalans and the Aztecs both descended from the Chichimec-Nahuas, speaking similar languages, sharing cultural bonds, and intertwining blood, yet they harbored deep-rooted hatred after countless wars. Similar to the Aztec Alliance, the Tlaxcalans also formed a city-state alliance centered around the four cities of Tlaxcala, Ocotelolco, Tepeticpac, and Quiahuiztlan.


    Tlaxcala possessed a similar military system and was capable of mobilizing armies of over one hundred thousand at their limit, making them the most dangerous enemy of the Empire.


    In fact, it was ultimately the Tlaxcalans who introduced the Spaniards landing in Mexico, provided them with a foothold, detailed information, ample food, and even tens of thousands of servant cannon fodder. Eventually, taking advantage of the Aztec''s internal turmoil, the Tlaxcalans and Spaniards were proactively invited into the capital city by Montezuma II, and the smallpox, deliberately spread by the colonizers, destroyed the city of Tenochtitlan in the lake and led to the demise of both the Aztec civilization and the Tlaxcalans themselves amidst the epidemic.


    For ten years of blood and fire, the Tlaxcalans stained the throne of the New Spain Governor with the blood of themselves and the peoples of Central America!


    Thinking of the future in history, Xiulote felt a chill in his heart. Drawing a circle in the east, he noted "similar to Zhao State, located east, large military force, unceasing warfare," and after some thought, he added four words "greatest threat."


    To the east of the Tlaxcalan Alliance lay the "highly esteemed" religious city-state of Cholula. Cholula was the center of Nawatl religion, a city of temples, beautiful and affluent. With few warriors, it nonetheless enjoyed a special status among the city-states. Hearing this, Xiulote attached a tag "similar to Eastern Zhou, located east, few military forces, exalted status."


    From Tlaxcala and Cholula, continuing east to the Gulf Coast of Mexico, lived another relative of the Mexicas, the "most Maya-like" Nahuatl-Totonac people.


    The Nahuatl-Totonac people, having driven out the Otomis with the Mexicas, then settled by the coast, almost exclusively enjoying trade with the Maya, before selling these goods into the interior. Their boats were said to have reached the "great islands of the faraway Great Lake."


    Geographical environment influenced political direction; decades of coastal trade and flourishing population made the Nahuatl city-states wealthy, also shedding the combative characteristics of their kinsfolk. They traded salt, feathers, leather, and other strategic materials with the Tlaxcalans for peace, staying aloof from the disputes in Central America.


    Xiulote just so happened to have a matching label "similar to Qi State, located east, moderate military force, diplomatic neutrality."


    As for the more distant Maya city-states, they seemed far-off and elusive. Olosh had only vaguely heard the names of significant city-states such as "Mayapan," "Chichen Itza," and "Chactemal," reluctantly recalled from the mouth of some Maya merchant he preferred not to think of.


    The temperament of the Maya city-states was more peaceful than that of the various Mexicas factions, with wars and sacrificial rites on a smaller scale, tucked away in the rainforests of the remote southeast. Xiulote casually picked a label "similar to Yue, located southeast, specifics unknown."


    Days passed in idle chatter. Having listened to the stories all along the way and memorized a circle of tags, Xiulote almost exhausted all of Olosh''s ink, finally feeling satisfied to slowly digest the information. Joyful journeys are always fleeting, and he saw that in just one more day, he would return to his home in this life, to the ancient city of Teotihuacan in the Valley of Mexico.


    The journey was real and vivid; for Xiulote, this world was finally not entirely unknown and shrouded in mystery, nor would it be a cold set of numbers and outcomes. His memories now contained real emotions¡ªa hint of softness, some persistence, a bit of curiosity, and a longing for pursuit and yearning.


    "Maybe there is also a dose of optimism," he thought, drawing a circle at the center of the Valley of Mexico and noting the last label: "Majestic, indeed, Da Qin!"

 Chapter 6 - 6 Going Home

    Chapter 6: Chapter 6 Going HomeThe azure sky shed warm sunshine, and the wind on the Mexican Plateau was still cool, the moist air carrying the freshness of Lake Haltocan. Lake Haltocan to the south was connected to Lake Texcoco, and just a dozen kilometers down the east shore was the ancient holy city of Teotihuacan, where Xiulote was born.


    Seeing Lake Haltocan, the team suddenly came alive, as if infused with some kind of vitality. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The samurai hastened to the lakeside, scooped up water from the shore, and drank greedily of the taste of home. Small boats plied the waters, and villagers going back and forth warmly greeted the samurai, inquiring about the bounty of their capture. Young girls, rowing closer in their boats and clad only in waistcloths, boldly displayed their youthful figures and sang love songs admiring the warriors.


    Xiulote''s face flushed, and he turned to look at the nearby village. Simple canals diverted lake water, feeding into the sprawling cornfields outside the village, where black beans and pumpkins were intercropped. The agriculture here was clearly far more developed, and the population seemed much denser.


    Between the village and the lake were numerous small ponds with floating gardens of various sizes, the chinampas. The chinampas could be harvested 6-7 times a year, making full use of river silt nutrients in the water-rich, pest-light environment, yielding nearly ten times that of regular tilled farms. These chinampas were controlled by the nobility of the city-states, sustaining their affluent lifestyles. The Great Nobility often had chinampa gardens filled with flowers, herbs, and even cacao.


    Xiulote''s gaze lingered long over a pond near a village until Ters roused him, and the group set off once more. Soon, the grand and ancient city came into Xiulote''s view.


    Teotihuacan had no city walls; its walls were buried in the dust of history, along with most of the city. In distant antiquity, it was "City of the Gods," and also where the gods departed.


    Xiulote entered from the west, crossing the subtle boundary of the city, presented with a grand spectacle that spanned millennia under the sun. A stone-paved avenue stretched north to south, about forty to fifty meters wide, seemingly leading to the edge of an era¡ªthe famed Avenue of the Dead.


    At the end to the north was a stone plaza, two hundred meters square, with a four-sided sacrificial altar at its center. This was Moon Plaza, the sacred land of sacrificial rites, a place to please the gods. Xiulote had first witnessed the bright red converging into lakes here, a shocking memory so unforgettable it made him realize that he had left behind a bloodless modern civilization and arrived in this savage, brutal era of the jungle.


    The samurai, with their terrified captives, marched along the Avenue of the Dead. North of the sacrificial altar was a majestic pyramid, thrice the width of the avenue and about forty to fifty meters high. As he looked up, the massive boulders formed into a five-tiered pyramid body, atop which stood an exquisite temple adorned with red and blue dyes highlighting ancient patterns etched with many moons, stars, jaguars, and snakes.


    At the entrance of the temple stood four guards wearing wolf headdresses, clad in black leather with blue and yellow stripes, statue-still. The statuesque guards held half-meter square leather-covered wooden shields in their left hands and gripped obsidian-tipped staffs over a meter long in their right, the obsidian blades gleaming coldly.


    Xiulote often thought of climbing to the top of the pyramid to find a way back, but was always stopped by the sculpture-like guards. This was the Moon Pyramid, a bridge connecting heaven and earth.


    Directly facing the procession, to the east of the avenue was another colossal pyramid, facing the sun with a two to three hundred meter square base and similarly five-tiered, yet taller and more imposing. The top was open, with a sacrificial stone about half a person''s height in the middle, and to the east was the semi-open Temple of the Sun.


    In the temple stood a tall Sun God statue facing the East. Its crown was made of gold, its eyes of gemstones, and silver ornaments hung from its arms and waist, with a pure gold sun several meters in diameter at its back.


    Sunlight now bathed the top of the Sun Pyramid, the dazzling golden rays temporarily blinding Xiulote''s eyes. This was the most revered Sun Pyramid, where only the most sacred sacrificial ceremonies could take place, strictly off-limits at other times.


    Olosh led the warriors to halt and knelt toward the Temple of the Sun to the east.


    He prayed aloud with a solemnity Xiulote had never witnessed before, "Great Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, under your sunshine that illuminates all, we have completed this capture! As your eternally loyal warriors, we will offer you the hearts and blood of our enemies until we return to the earth and offer ourselves. May you bless our bodies and weapons, that we may win the next sacred battle!"


    Xiulote also performed the prayer with proper semblance, and as he stood up, he saw Olosh ordering the captives to kneel before the Sun God, offering their faith. The captives, believing death was imminent, trembled with terror, crying out in disorder. Fear drained their strength, leaving them prostrate on the ground, a huddled mass.


    Not far to the west of the procession was a magnificent complex of palaces and temples adorned with colorful paintings on the walls and fluttering on the pure white cotton curtains. Gods of heavens and earth, sacrificial rites for the fields, rainforest and lakes, tigers, leopards, snakes, and deer¡ªall were vividly alive in the palaces. The paintings depicted the past and present of the Aztec people, their faith and way of life.


    This splendid complex of buildings was the dwelling of priests and nobility, as well as the workplace of the servants of the gods.


    Upon seeing the returning company, a young assistant priest hurried out from the palaces. The youth appeared to be around twenty, his features gentle and refined, like jade. He wore no feather crown; his upper body was draped in a white shawl, and he wore a short white skirt below, his chest bare. Around his neck was a common obsidian necklace, signifying his role as an assistant priest.


    "Respected Olosh Samurai, oh, and little Xiulote," the assistant priest said with a smile, winking at Xiulote, "did the capture go smoothly?"


    "Not bad, Acap. This time we ventured into Vastec territory and found a tribe of savages. The opponents were weak; none of our warriors were injured," Olosh nodded, his stern expression as if he had not yet recovered from the prayer, then pointed towards the crowd of kneeling people, "the captives are all here."


    "Good." The assistant priest quickly counted the captives and glanced a few times at the damaged leather armors of the warriors standing at the rear. Acap smiled again, "The spoils of the returning warriors are quite impressive. Hand over the male captives to me, and you all can deal with the female captives. With twenty-five sacrifices, it seems every new recruit will be able to get a promotion."


    Olosh also smiled, then turned to the samurai and roared, "You turkeys, I have good news for you. After this capture, each of you will be promoted to first level warriors, ''Captors''."


    "Ters, Marley," Olosh continued to roar, "you two will be promoted to second level warriors, ''Vastec Hunters''."


    Xiulote saw two faces both eager for battle, one cruel, the other pure.


    "After I report to the elders, you can go to collect your new war clothes and cloaks tomorrow," the warriors let out a cheer of excitement. "But remember, your opponents this time were weak, you''re still a bunch of turkeys! Only when you''ve captured a Tlaxcala or Tarasco warrior on your own, can you truly be called brave."


    "Ters, Marley. Take the four-palm-sized women to South City, sell them to commoners without wives. The cacao beans you get in exchange should be shared among the brothers, and get your weapons and leather armors repaired!"


    At this, the warriors cheered again.


    "And remember, if it''s one of our own, make it cheaper."


    As Olosh spoke, he also patted Xiulote on the shoulder and laughed, "Xiulote, it''s a pity you don''t have a share in this! Of course, you''re not lacking in that bit."


    But Xiulote seemed unenthusiastic. The youth hung his head low, watching as the captives were led away like merchandise.


    It was then that Acap took up the conversation, smiling, "Well, Olosh. Now that everything is arranged, you and Xiulote come with me. Captain Xiuxoke had given orders long ago; as soon as you returned, you were to see him immediately." With that, he led the two towards the magnificent palaces.

 Chapter 7 - 7 Father

    Chapter 7: Chapter 7 FatherThe priestly order''s palace complex was divided into two levels. The guards on the lower level wore beast helmets and yellow robes, adorned with the attire of jaguars and eagles. Assistant priests wore solid-colored capes or shawls, carrying wooden boards painted with images as they moved about.


    The three of them ascended the granite staircase to the second level of the palace complex, passing by an exceptionally tall palace. Xiulote faintly heard intense arguing coming from inside the palace; the words "war" and "Otomi people" could be discerned.


    At the palace entrance fluttered a large, multicolored curtain. At the center of the curtain sat the imposing Sun God, War God, and Mexica Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, the Chief Divine of the Mexica Alliance. Dark green long feathers covered the lower half of the Chief Divine''s body, radiating outwards like the sun.


    Next to the curtain of the palace entrance stood two guards wearing wolf heads and black robes.


    One of them gave Acap a questioning look; in response, Acap pointed to Olosh and Xiulote, then gestured to the right. The guard nodded and gave Xiulote a "ferocious" smile through the gap in the wolf''s mouth. Xiulote rolled his eyes, while the preoccupied Olosh seemed lost in thought.


    Acap then led them off to the right. Xiulote asked in a low voice, "What are the High Priests discussing in the Chief Divine''s Temple?"


    "You''ll know in a moment," Acap replied with a smile, not answering the question directly but appearing to suddenly become thoughtful himself.


    After a while, they arrived at a side hall. There was also a huge curtain at the entrance of the side hall, depicting a deity with its arms raised high and a head resembling that of both man and dog, gazing into the sky. With a bright red tongue, deep black feathers, and headdress, it seemed ready to leap off the vibrant red Throne of the Gods at any moment.


    This was the god of thunder and death, the Night Star that escorts the sun¡ªXiulotel, also the twin brother of the Feathered Serpent Divine.


    The guards of the side hall were much more enthusiastic, "Little Xiulote, back already? How was the hunt? Did you get bloody? Did you capture any prisoners?"


    Xiulote nodded and shook his head, following Acap silently.


    Entering the side hall, they were met with a low stone table holding a wooden board. A burly man in his thirties sat cross-legged on the floor, draped in a painted red robe, with a dark green feather crown on his head and silver arm bands. Holding a wooden pen with bristles made of resilient hair, he dipped it in black paint and began etching two patterns on the board ¡ª one of writing and one of painting.


    Xiulote stepped forward and saw that the square pattern in the front depicted a shield and a club, while the pattern behind was a white cloth wrapping a corpse. He had learned of these glyphs before and knew they meant "war" and "death."


    The man looked up, showing a distinct and resolute face. He had deep-set eyebrows, a prominent nose, and an air of self-assurance. His eyes were bright and keen, first landing on Xiulote, stretching into a smile, then acknowledging Acap with a nod. Lastly, he looked at Olosh and let out a laugh.


    "Welcome back, my warrior! And welcome, my son! You''ve returned just in time," the man stood up, revealing his large, muscular build, then spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. "The war is about to begin!"


    "Good news, Head Warrior Xiuxoke! When? And against whom?" asked an excited and surprised Olosh, returning the gesture.


    "A few days ago, a messenger came from Tenochtitlan bringing orders from the newly appointed Tratuoani: The King commands us to start mobilizing, for the coronation war will begin next month, aiming to subjugate the Otomi people to the northwest for refusing to pay tribute to the Alliance."


    Xiuxoke and Olosh clashed forearms and then he inquired, "How did the capturing go this time?"


    "I took Xiulote and the new recruits for a spin around the people of the Vastec to the north, grabbing several dozen Canine Descendants. The Vastec were quite compliant, and their food supplies were ample. It seems the northeast won''t pose any significant problems for now."


    Olosh pondered for a moment before adding, "Xiulote''s strength and martial arts are commendable; he took down a would-be warrior this time. Just too many questions, he wants to know everything."


    "Speaking of which, Olosh frowned in distress, ''Some of the numbers and principles, how can a warrior like me answer these?''"


    "Haha, it seems this youngster has made quite some progress if he can stump my top Head Warrior," Xiuxoke laughed as he patted Xiulote''s head, hmm, that hurt a bit.


    "Is the City-State preparing to send out troops? How many?"


    "Of course, as the King''s kin, the City-State will definitely dispatch troops in support. The specific number of troops has been discussed by the Elder Priests all morning. The High Priest should have the information when he returns later. However, the King has already announced that Tenochtitlan will mobilize three elite Xiquipilli units, which is a force of eight thousand men. Texcoco and Tlacopan will each mobilize one elite unit, and the villages subordinate to the three cities will mobilize five commoner units."


    "So all together, the capital and the other two cities will mobilize ten eight-thousand-man units, which is eighty thousand men?" Xiulote took a sharp breath, eighty thousand warriors?


    "Heh, Xiulote is quite good at math," Olosh was also somewhat surprised, "Mobilizing an army of a hundred thousand men to gnaw at the Otomi''s mountain city in the north as the rainy season approaches? That wouldn''t be a wise choice."


    "Indeed," Xiuxoke stopped smiling and slowly nodded, "The City-States to the south like Tzalko should be able to mobilize at least two units, Xochipeople and Cuauhnavac one each, the two nearby units from Weyoplhethlan to the north will be conscripted, and to the west, Tepanecapan, Tollocan, and Tzalko will muster at least four units. To the east, to guard against the Tlaxcala people, no troops can move. All in all, it should be twenty eight-thousand-man units."


    "The frontal battlefield is definitely not something to worry about. Even if all the City-States of the Otomi send reinforcements, they''ll barely make up ten units, and their combat power can''t compare to our elite warrior units," Olosh confidently patted his chest.


    "But twenty units would require at least a hundred thousand laborers. And during the wet rainy season, the daily consumption of food is incalculable. The northern Otomi villages have always been poor, so there''s not much food to seize. Once the Otomi people hide in their City-States and hold out, if the war drags on, we''ll be in trouble."


    "Those are my worries too," Xiuxoke unconsciously pinched Xiulote''s cheek, hmm, still painful.


    "However, the northeast Vastec provides a large tribute every year, so there''s no reason or benefit to attack them. The tripartite alliance of City-States to the south has been deferential over the years, and they''re interconnected¡ªif you throw a stone, it''s sure to cause ripples in the pond.


    "The Tarasco to the west are very strong in battle; we even suffered a defeat at their hands two years ago. The Tlaxcala to the east goes without saying; to fight them, we would need to mobilize completely, and not everyone is prepared for that. The King, after calculating, probably has no other choice but to pick the northern Otomi."


    "In the end, it''s still about bullying the weak and fearing the strong," Olosh muttered dissatisfiedly, "How can the King lack the heart of a warrior?"


    Olosh paused, then lowered his voice, "The new King''s authority has not yet been established. Fighting our enemies the Tlaxcala or the formidable Tarasco, even if we are defeated, no one would complain. But fighting the weak and cunning Otomi, if we gain no advantage at all, it won''t matter if we''re victorious¡ªif the victory is too slight, it will cause dissatisfaction among the people."


    Xiuxoke nodded in agreement, smiling, "Olosh, your talent is more than enough to lead an elite warrior unit as its commander."


    "Too bad our City-State doesn''t have eight thousand warriors for me to lead," Olosh laughed heartily.


    "There will be in the future, I promise!" The two looked at each other and laughed heartily at the same time. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote was listening so intently that he hadn''t noticed when Acap had left the hall, but now he saw him walking in from outside.


    Acap entered with a smile and spoke softly, "Commander, the High Priest has finished the meeting and is on his way here."

 Chapter 8 - 8 Grandfather

    Chapter 8: Chapter 8 GrandfatherEveryone stopped their conversations and came out to meet the visitor.


    Standing at the entrance, Xiulote saw a man, about fifty-something years old, approaching him.


    The elder had eagle-like eyes, and his piercing gaze chilled the hearts of those it fell upon. Time had etched deep lines on his face, blending with the bright red tattoos, casting a stern and indifferent visage that bore a supernatural presence rather than mere old age.


    The elder sported a formal obsidian long crown which seemed quite heavy. The broad-fronted crown had a "Divine Face" made out of gemstones. "Eyes" crafted from two large rubies surveyed the earthly realm as the elder walked. The top of the crown was adorned with numerous half-meter long green feathers, and the back was densely packed with short blue feathers, spreading out magnificently like the sun.


    Xiulote looked at the hefty High Priest''s crown, feeling a headache coming on. Acap and Olosh, on the other hand, seemed pricked by something and bowed their heads, not daring to look directly.


    Under the sunlight, as the elder slowly approached, the radiance was nearly blinding to Xiulote. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He was draped in a red cloak, bordered with a circle of red feathers, upon which golden suns were embroidered, and beneath it worn a lavish robe, adorned on the front and back with grains of gold and silver depicting the radiance of the sun and moon.


    A dazzling necklace of top-tier obsidian hung from his neck, filled with countless gold-dust-like translucent spots. His wrists and ankles were adorned with pure gold bands that glittered as he moved.


    The Mexica people didn''t regard gold as valuable currency, but simply revered its solar color.


    The elder''s walk was slow and steady, as if he bore some sort of "Divinity." Acap bowed his head and stepped forward to offer assistance, but upon catching a slight tilt of the elder''s head and his emotionless gaze, he immediately stood back with folded hands, waiting by the side.


    Everyone then quietly bowed their heads and waited by the sides until the elder slowly stepped into the side hall, following which they filed in, crowding behind him.


    The air fell silent until the elder stopped, turned around, and his sharp gaze fell on Xiuxoke, who quickly bowed deeply, keeping his head lower than the elder''s eyes.


    "Xiuxoke, the assembly of Priests has decided," the elder intoned, "to mobilize a mixed group for the coronation war. You will be the leader of eight thousand men, leading them in battle for the King and the City-State."


    Olosh looked up, emitting an uncontrollable cheer, which was swiftly suppressed as the elder''s gaze fell on him again, prompting him to lower his head.


    "Yes, High Priest. I will fight for the City-State and the King!"


    At this reply, a faint, barely perceptible smile traced the stone-like face of the High Priest. Then his gaze swept over Acap and Olosh again. "Xiuxoke, I need to speak with you alone."


    Acap and Olosh performed a gesture of piety, consciously exited, and then closed the door behind them.


    Only then did High Priest Xutel remove the obsidian crown from his head and carefully place it on the stone table, revealing his white-haired head. It seemed as if he had shed some heavy divinity, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief, his face showing more expression.


    Xiulote approached and touched the stone crown, finding it truly hard, then tried embracing it¡ªit was indeed heavy. It must be made of real stone. It appeared that being a High Priest was physically demanding; his grandfather was truly strong.


    Xiuxoke hastened forward to assist, helping the elder unload the heavy cloak, the substantial necklace, and the pure gold bands. Only then could Xiulote see that beneath the dazzling and lofty priestly attire was a thin, weathered old man.


    Xutel sat down on the ground, his thin frame finally showing a stoop. He patted beside him, motioning Xiulote to sit next to him, his left hand naturally stroking his grandson''s head. His right hand pulled Xiuxoke to sit opposite; the three of them created an interesting contrast.


    With no outsiders around, they could finally speak some private words.


    "The City-State decided to mobilize a group of eight thousand, comprising ten camps, half of which are elite City-State camps and the other half are village civilian camps. That is, four thousand Samurai and four thousand Militia,"


    "This time I overruled all the Elders and chose you to be the commander of the expedition," the old man''s eyes were still exceptionally sharp. "You must seize this opportunity and achieve enough military merits."


    "When you return, I will have reason to promote you from a Second Level Nobility to a Third Level Honorary Nobility, and in a few more years, you will rightfully become the ruler of the City-State," said the High Priest with an authoritative voice about the destined fate.


    Xiuxoke nodded but unusually showed a hint of hesitation, "This battle will not be easy. The Otomi people are unlikely to fight us head-on, and the King''s decision seems somewhat hasty."


    Xutel nodded, "Every decision the King makes is naturally his responsibility. However, I will send a Messenger to him to have you avoid meaningless siege warfare."


    "What you need to do is find the right moment to engage the Otomi in direct combat. Don''t mind the casualties! I only need you to return, I only need substantial achievements. Samurai are like blooming flowers, always destined to wither somewhere. Civilians are even more like weeds in the fields, even if they die off, they will keep sprouting endlessly. Only you are the cocoa tree blessed by the Divinity, destined to bear the duty of leading the City-State!"


    Xiuxoke remained silent without replying. Xutel then placed his right hand on his shoulder, looking at his son''s resolute face and said softly, "I know, because of your background, you have developed some naive affection for the civilians and lower Samurai. Since I couldn''t be by your side to teach you the way of the nobility from childhood, your mother filled you with too much of the civilians'' frail emotions."


    "But trees and weeds can never stand at the same height. As a Priest, the religious law forbids me from officially marrying. But as a descendant of the Sun God, I must cultivate a tree that shelters for the family. You were born with a future to shoulder. Go and fight! Victory must be nurtured with life."


    The warriors of the City-State won''t care if their leader is a bastard. What they care about is whether you are brave enough, and whether you have enough enemy blood on your hands!"


    Finally, Xiuxoke nodded, gazing into his father''s eyes and declared loudly, "I will, Father!"


    Xiulote pretended to be a rag doll, overhearing this unsettling instruction, his attention focused on his grandfather''s robe. How were those pieces of gold and silver embedded into the fabric, it felt like some precise weaving technique and natural glue were used. Perhaps it could be used to make Cloth Armor?


    Therefore, Xutel''s gaze finally shifted to his grandson standing beside him, "How do you plan to arrange for Xiulote?"


    Xiuxoke looked at his son affectionately and said, "Xiulote just returned from hunting, and while I''m on the expedition, I plan to let him rest at home and maybe learn some Priestly knowledge from you."


    Xutel thought for a moment and shook his head, "No. Let Xiulote go with you. The knowledge of a Priest can be made up later. After tallying up the results of this capture, I will promote Xiulote to an official Priest. Then, during this war, assign him a few prisoners so that when he comes back, I can promote him to a Second Level Priest ''Chitli.''"


    "But Xiulote is only twelve years old. Such a young Second Level Priest..."


    "Take him with you! Xiulote is good at mathematics, he can help you keep the rations accounted for accurately. With his mathematics and battlefield accomplishments, he will be enough to convince the others. Plus, I am here."


    Speaking, Xutel lovingly lowered his head and gently pinched Xiulote''s cheek. The gesture was gentle, not painful at all. "Xiulote, you''ve been intelligent since you were little, you are our hope, and the hope of our family. Listen well to your father. I know you understand everything."


    "A Second Level Priest at twelve or thirteen years old, in two more years, I will make you the youngest Fifth Level ''Coyote Priest.'' That way, when I am gone, you can take my place. Xiulote, you must remember this."


    Xutel stared into the young boy''s eyes, seemingly trying to convey something with his gaze.


    "You are born extraordinary, with signs in the heavens! You are also a descendant of Acamapichtli, among generations of Mexica Kings, sharing the same bloodline! Your future holds limitless possibilities, and I will seize every opportunity for you!"


    "And my future," the old man finally murmured to himself, "is only a few years away from the Divine Kingdom..."

 Chapter 9 - 9 Mobilization

    Chapter 9: Chapter 9 MobilizationThe next day at noon, the sun was warm and dazzling. Xiulote, donned in a priest''s robe, sat atop a miniature pyramid by the palace compound, gazing up at the majestic Pyramid of the Moon.


    The decision of the Priesthood had spread throughout the city-state and nearby villages; the decision to deploy troops was unshakable! And today was the day for the mobilization speech, meant to inspire the morale of the warriors and the militia.


    Xiulote looked up at the tall Pyramid of the Moon, where his grandfather Xutel, clothed in the heavy full attire of the High Priest, shimmered in gold, illuminating all directions. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    To Xiulote, the Pyramid of the Moon held a special meaning; it was the place where everything changed.


    Staring at the Pyramid of the Moon, the dazzling light seemed dreamlike, and he sank into some distant memories. Those were "past" memories, although they had begun to blur.


    In that memory, he was a post-90s youth who loved history and geography, curious about the ancient civilizations of America, and had played as the Aztec countless times in Civilization and Europe scenarios. At 25, he finally had the chance to travel to Teotihuacan in Mexico, where he secretly climbed the Pyramid of the Moon at night.


    That evening, he sat on the ruins of the temple at the top of the pyramid; it was pitch dark, the black night engulfing him.


    The Milky Way was boundlessly vast, and coincidentally, the once in a decade Leonid meteor shower rained down. On a whim, the youth loudly made a wish to the shooting stars, "I wish to return to the past, lead the destroyed Indian civilization to rise again, defeat the invading European colonizers, and make America belong to the Indians!"


    Before he could finish his sentence, darkness fell before his eyes, he collapsed to the ground, his consciousness fuzzed as he felt himself turn into a beam of white light, followed by endless dizzying movement and rapid changes in color, until he woke up unable to see this world anymore. He could only vaguely sense his surroundings, still in the ancient city of Teotihuacan, but there was much more life around.


    He wandered in a blurry world, without purpose or direction, simply drawn by feeling to a secluded hut that held a massive attraction.


    Passing through walls, he felt two connected lives, one a weak miscellaneous light, the other colorless specks. Guided by feeling, he merged into the colorless specks, a flash of white light sparked, and his consciousness blurred.


    The next time he awoke accompanied by piercing cries, seemingly his own? He opened his eyes to see a low roof and two faces, one happy, the other sad. Black hair, yellow skin, the bent forms casting giant shadows in the moonlight, covering his tiny body.


    Sorrow soon overtook joy, and he stopped crying, but heard another suppressed cry, a bent figure suddenly stood up, carrying him out of the room.


    The cries gradually receded, the baby''s brain unable to support much thought, he felt himself being carried to the edge of a pond, then water slowly overtook him. Had he been abandoned just after traversing?


    The frail body coughed violently, unable to breathe, and he seemed to hear a new cry nearby. His consciousness gradually faded, the newborn body no longer feeling.


    This time, he didn''t wander aimlessly. Recognizing the scale of the buildings, he slowly drifted towards the most bustling and massive center, resisting the occasional attractions around him. He wandered around the center of the ancient city, finally feeling a new pull at the bustling palace compound, and merged into the colorless specks once again.


    Waking up once more was accompanied by his own cries, and an uncontrollable laughter. The infant opened his eyes, a young and robust man was holding him aloft. His head adorned with a feather crown, his upright body dressed in a white cotton robe. A resolute face, also with black hair and yellow skin.


    The high roof was painted with colorful characters and landscapes. A circle of people knelt around, grinning silently. On the bed lay a young woman, her laugh brimming with tears.


    Soon, a richly dressed, stone-crowned middle-aged man hurried in, pushed away his little legs, then looked at his tiny speck with joy and laughed loudly, then spoke some incomprehensible words, a term repeated several times. Those surrounding also began to repeat this term, faintly distinct as, "Xiulote!"


    Since then, he had a new name, Xiulote.


    The middle-aged man from his memories now stood on the high platform, his face aged by time. Only the dazzling golden light illuminated the crowd below. Nobility, warriors, and commoners gathered from all directions at the base of the pyramid, listening to the High Priest relay the divine message.


    "The Sun God, the War God, Huitzilopochtli''s protected citizens. The bloodline of Huitzilopochtli, the new Tratuoani brings the command of the gods, asking you to take up arms, join the king''s sacred coronation war, and capture the divinely chosen sacrifices, the weak Otomi from the north."


    The imposing voice was relayed tier upon tier down from the Moon Pyramid, growing grander, until it enveloped the entire square and jolted Xiulote from his memories.


    "Since the last holy war and the great sacrifice, twelve rainy seasons have passed. The Fifth Era''s Sun had an agreement with us. He requires thousands of hearts to maintain the sky''s light, or else the Sun will extinguish, and all things will wither. The time for sacrifice has come again!


    The ground beneath our feet, Xipactli, also had an agreement with us. It allows corn to grow, nurturing all things, and we repay with blood, or else the grain will fail. The earth craves blood!


    The world is balanced, the War God sustains the operation of the world. You all know, the population of the city-states is increasing, abandoned infants are becoming more frequent, and the food in our hands is diminishing! The world has lost its balance, the War God needs lives to prevent the world''s destruction.


    We have only one choice, to capture the lives of our enemies, sacrifice them to our guardians, this is a war to save the world!"


    Limited productivity, scarce food, restricted demographic limits, and ever-growing populations. This is the historical cyclical law of Central America. Xiulote thought, it seems there are inevitable reasons for the endless wars and sacrifices.


    The commoners discussed in panic, troubled by the Priest''s terrifying prophecy. Fear was then channeled, transformed into a resolve to take up arms. The nobility and the warriors were still silent.


    "In the name of the Guardian God, I swear: in this holy war, all young warriors, if you capture a captive alive, you will be promoted to a First Level Captor; capture two more, you advance to a Second Level Vastec Hunter; capture three more, to a Third Level Elite Fire Warrior; and capture four more, you become a true Fourth Level Veteran Warrior, eligible to join the Eagle Warrior Group or the Jaguar Warrior Group, becoming a First Level Warrior of military merit! They will be forever granted a fertile land by the city-state, even a Chinampa in the lake! All priests participating in the war will be similarly recognized."


    The warriors erupted, cheering unclearly, some even drew their staffs and created sounds by striking their shields. Some newly ascended warriors of military merit also became excited at the mention of Chinampa.


    "Our enemies are the weak Otomi, whose ancestors we easily expelled from the divinely granted Mexican Valley, killing them is as simple as pulling weeds. Yet today, these jackal-like creatures still threaten our valley, salivating over our fields. Only by thoroughly sacrificing them to the deities can we protect our most precious land.


    The city-state of the Otomi is prosperous, filled with countless corn cakes, black bean paste, cocoa fruits, cotton fabrics, and various beautiful flowers, feathers, herbs, silver ornaments, gold ornaments, obsidian, and gemstones. Their city-state has no warriors, only sacrifices, slaves, and your future wives!"


    The hereditary nobility were finally moved, the Great Nobility whispering among themselves, discussing the lacking luxury goods. Desire finally ignited in everyone''s eyes.


    "Warriors, for the covenant of the gods, for the glory of warriors, for our land, and for your wealth, join the holy war. The priests will be with you, in the name of the gods, we must win this battle!"


    At that moment, except for Xiulote, everyone below the stage finally fell into senseless shouting and howling, eventually guided into earth-shaking cries: "War, war!"


    The neat cheers resounded through the heavens, representing a certain national will. This scene was deeply ingrained in the eyes of a young boy, unforgettable.

 Chapter 10: Legion

    Chapter 10: Chapter 10: LegionTwo full weeks had passed since that unforgettable mobilization, and the legions of the Teotihuacan City-State were finally fully assembled. The dry season had ended, and the rainy season was not yet upon us, so the cool breeze had become moist and the warm sunshine remained as comfortable as ever.


    The south of the city had been transformed into a massive military camp. During this period, Xiulote watched his father meet with hereditary noblemen involved in the war, exchange courtesies, make small talk, dine together, make promises, and then exchange gifts. He also saw him spar with the elite samurai, embrace them, boast, praise, and test their martial arts before finally drinking tequila to intoxication.


    Xiuxoke occasionally received representatives of the civic militia, resolved disputes, and demonstrated his authority. Over time, a military leadership group centered around Xiuxoke finally took shape, and the newly established battalion of eight thousand men could be somewhat clumsily commanded.


    The Aztec military organization was based on squads of twenty, with a squad leader at the core. Then, in increments of twenty, units of 200, 400, 800 men were formed, all the way up to the ultimate military unit of eight thousand men, the Xiquipilli, measuring the final martial power of all city-states.


    Under the tireless suggestions of Xiulote, Xiuxoke eventually divided the legions into ten camps, each with around 800 men. As for the exact numbers, other than Xiulote, no one could count them accurately.


    Out of the ten camps, five elite camps came from urban communities, mainly composed of formally trained samurai, including veterans of the Fourth Level war ranks, such as Eagle Warriors and Jaguar warriors, all gathered in one veteran soldiers'' camp. They had sufficient ability to use javelins. This was the core of the legion''s combat power. Naturally, the Camp Commander of the veterans'' camp was the most trusted Head Warrior, Olosh. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The remaining five were civilian camps, composed of conscripted militia from subordinate villages, most of whom only had rudimentary training. A part of the warriors with experience in using slings for hunting were all gathered in one sling camp, while the other four were close combat camps.


    On this day, the fully reorganized legions finally assembled in the training field of the military camp. The priests held aloft the banners of the gods, maintaining order at the scene together with nobles of all levels. The samurai gathered by camps, forming circular formations of uneven sizes.


    Xiuxoke, wearing resplendent war attire, stood at the most conspicuous spot, surrounded by noble officers from each camp. Together, they looked proudly over their "great army," openly expressing their eagerness for battle.


    Xiulote, accompanied by Acap, his new bodyguard and assistant sent by his grandfather, visited the camps under the guise of a priest.


    The first camp was the veterans'' camp. The seasoned samurai wore yellow or green leather armor, donned red and yellow capes, and wore beast-shaped helmets. In one hand they held shields, and in the other, they swung clubs, the obsidian blades on both sides of the war clubs gleaming sharply in the sunlight. Most of them carried a javelin on their back, with a javelin thrower tucked at their waist.


    The veterans stood naturally, their formation automatically taking on an open combat formation. With relaxed expressions and the indifference of those who had faced life and death, they effortlessly swung their war clubs with practiced finesse. Xiulote circled twice, counting more than two hundred intimidating Eagle and Jaguar heads.


    "So it turns out we only have two hundred Jaguar and Eagle warriors," Xiulote sighed in disappointment. "This is a bit far from the legion I had imagined. I thought we could have a whole legion of Jaguars and Eagles!"


    "Eight thousand Jaguar warriors?!" Acap chuckled lightly, "All the city-states of the Mexica combined probably couldn''t muster that many. The capital''s three cities could perhaps pull together a little over two thousand Jaguars and Eagles, plus more than five hundred ''hair cutters,'' and that''s enough for any king to intimidate many city-states. Remember, both the Jaguar and Eagle battalions are elite military nobility of the Alliance!"


    "Alright then. We''ll have Eagles, and we''ll have Jaguars," Xiulote began to take mental notes. "Veterans'' camp, the trump card, sword/club and shield soldiers, one javelin, leather medium armor, high morale, average discipline, intimidating to regular troops. Excellent assault infantry." He used a familiar method of assessment, which helped him quickly understand the strength of the troops.


    Next, the second to fifth camps were the elite camps. Depending on their wealth, various samurai wore leather armor or war clothes, some even donned capes. Most of the warriors wore pointed helmets, the same Obsidian clubs, and leather round shields. The faces of the newly promoted samurai showed assorted excitations and fantasies about battle.


    Amidst the somewhat disorderly troops, Xiulote saw two familiar faces, one smiling warmly at him and the other offering a stiff smile.


    "Elite camps, elite, sword/club and shield soldiers, half leather light armor, average morale, poor discipline. Close combat infantry that maintains battle lines, with a somewhat low rate of armor coverage. Okay, that''s acceptable."


    Then, the sixth to the ninth civilian camps. These villagers'' militia were much more poorly equipped. Most were bare-chested, with only a small number wearing war clothes. Stone spears, wooden spears, stone clubs, a wide variety of weapons, and the prevalence of shields were also a problem, with only a few leaders having standard clubs and shields.


    The militia from the village excitedly talked to each other, creating a noisy environment in the camp. Perhaps they all shared the same passion for combat, but such untrained zeal would soon be ground down by enemy forces or harsh conditions.


    "Commoners'' camp, ordinary, short spear soldiers, dressed in plain clothes without armor, low morale, no discipline," Xiulote said, hand to his forehead. "What use are these armed men? Cannon fodder to fill the battle lines? Without banding together, they simply cannot hold. Perhaps after improving discipline, we could consider long spears and light infantry?"


    The tenth Javelin Throwing Camp gave Xiulote some fresh insights.


    These seasoned hunters held a long rope, pinching the ends between two fingers. Then they would vigorously twirl the rope, causing the rock at its center to accelerate and produce a whizzing sound. Relying on their feeling and experience, at the right angle, they would release a finger, unfurling the rope and ''whoosh,'' launch the rounded stone out, kicking up clouds of dust on the training field.


    The accuracy of the stone-throwers was moving, and their collective firepower was considerable, especially against opponents without armor or only in light armor. Sadly, although the equipment was simple, it would still take years to master.


    "Stone-throwing camp, ordinary, stone-throwing soldiers, dressed in plain clothes without armor, low morale, no discipline. A range attack unit requiring terrain support, striking at enemy morale," Xiulote could only accept the presence of this sole ranged unit. As for the hunters'' simple short bows, after Xiulote tried shooting a few wooden arrows, he felt hopeless about their range and power.


    "Why are our archers so weak?" Xiulote asked, puzzled.


    "Bows and arrows are inherently weak. Only members of weak tribes would use such powerless weapons," Acap stated as if it were obvious. "Hmm, that''s not entirely true. The Tlaxcalans have a type of bow that almost reaches the height of a person, with copper arrowheads, capable of penetrating a layer of cotton armor within fifty steps. Our samurai have been ambushed many times by the despicable Tlaxcalans."


    "Fifty steps to penetrate cotton armor sounds quite impressive. We could also form such an archer unit, effective ranged troops are very important in some terrains," he said.


    "Ranged sneak attacks are not the way of the samurai, nor can they capture prisoners. Without prisoners, there is no promotion, so Mexica warriors prefer close combat and do not like using bows and arrows," Acap laughed.


    "Of course, there''s also the fact that common craftsmen lack the skill to make bows. The wood for bow-making needs to be prepared for a long time, and archery likewise requires lengthy practice. Some chiefs might have a decorative bow, but that''s far from enough to form a unit. Besides, the Tlaxcalan bow has a very short range, and its power cannot surpass that of a javelin, and it''s still limited in the damage it can do to samurai''s leather or cotton armor."


    "Where do the Tlaxcalans get their materials and techniques?" The youth was only interested in the technology. In his view, archers and cavalry were indispensable components of an army, irreplaceable for their tactical roles. Since there was no way to have cavalry for now, he still had to form an archer unit.


    "Who knows what crafts they have? They worship the God of the Hunt, Mixcoatl, and have always had numerous bowyers. The leather, silk thread, bone glue, and wood they use are likely either self-produced or come from trade with coastal Nava people or Mayan merchants, those Mayan merchants have many sources for goods. But no matter, without bows and arrows, our warriors can still sweep the world."


    "Sweep the world? Indeed, for now. But in the future, the world may sweep us," Xiulote thought with a wry smile.


    Long spears, bows and arrows, leather armor, Xiulote seriously considered the legion''s flaws and potential improvements. Overall, the political structure of the Mexica city-states resembled that of the early Greek city-states, or perhaps the fifty lords during the Western Zhou Dynasty. While the military equipment and organizational levels barely maintained those of the Spring and Autumn period of the Wu and Yue rivalry, only their military mobilization capabilities had reached the level of the Warring States period of the Qin Dynasty.


    "No cavalry, no archers, no heavy infantry, we''re still centuries away from the Roman legions or the grand formations of the Qin army. Europe has already entered the era of matchlock guns and plate armor," Xiulote looked up at the sky as Acap also looked for something novel in the sky.


    "Metals, we only have copper mines. Copper spears, copper armor, heavy infantry, Macedonian phalanx," Xiulote''s eyes lit up, then dimmed again, the only known copper mines being in Tarasco hands.


    "A heavy burden and a long road," Xiulote murmured a phrase that no one else understood, "fortunately, I still have time."


    Just then, a messenger hurriedly arrived from the southern gate, bringing a message, "The King''s grand army has already set out from the capital!"

 Chapter 11 - 11 The Army

    Chapter 11: Chapter 11 The ArmyThe early summer sun was already quite intense, and the moist wind blowing past Lake Haltocan seemed to carry the scent of the approaching rainy season.


    Xiulote followed his father, who in turn followed his grandfather. The High Priest stood at the forefront, cloaked in formal sacrificial vestments. Nobles and priests thronged around, their bright feathers merging together and their gold and silver ornaments dazzling brilliantly. Everyone was dressed in their most formal, most vibrant, and heaviest attire, waiting outside the southern gate of the City-State for the arrival of the king''s grand army.


    Xiulote too had been forced to wear a blue feathered High Priest''s crown, its long feathers elegantly curving above his head, making him appear half a meter taller.


    If it were a warrior''s feather crown, the feathers could be inserted upside down and hang down the back to facilitate battle. Fortunately, the crown he had chosen was relatively simple, without any gemstones or gold and silver inlays, making it tolerably heavy. The feathers around it tickled his face, prompting him to quickly leave the crowd and sneeze on the side.


    "What use are these feathers? Wearing them on the head makes one look like a bird," Xiulote complained softly under his breath. Indeed, historical texts had mentioned that the Indians never understood why the colonizers coveted merely lustrous gold and silver and not the more precious feathers.


    "Feathers are gifts bestowed by the divine spirits and are also the offerings beloved by them. The more magnificent and elongated the feathers, the more they symbolize honor and sanctity," Acap chimed in with a smile as he appeared from the side.


    "It is said that the twin brother of the God of Death Xiulotel, the Feathered Serpent Divine Quetzalcoatl, possesses the most beautiful feathers in the world. He uses these feathers to control hurricanes, driving his immense serpentine body into the waters of the East, where he sleeps where the sun rises. One day, He will awaken and return from the waters of the East, bringing peace and prosperity to the world."


    "Is the Feathered Serpent a flying feathered snake?" Xiulote asked, his curiosity piqued.


    "This is the conclusion drawn by the priests of the City-State from the ancient murals in the Holy City of Teotihuacan," Acap said after a moment of thought.


    "But in the murals of the Great Temple of Tenochtitlan, the Feathered Serpent appears as a tall, white-skinned man with a large beard. He was defeated and exiled by the other divine beings and sailed to the mysterious East, to Tlapallan, promising his return."


    "Damn white-skinned, big-bearded deity," Xiulote expressed strong disdain for this myth. One day in the future, the Spanish colonizer Hernan Cortes would exploit this myth to successfully rally the first group of Nava guides and establish his leadership over the Tlaxcala servant army.


    Then, on the day the Feathered Serpent promised to return, pretending to be the Feathered Serpent, he was welcomed into the capital city of Tenochtitlan with divine honors by Montezuma II. He deceived and captured Montezuma II, then massacred the priests and nobility in the Great Temple, destroying the imperial power center in one fell swoop, and leaving behind countless smallpox-infected garments as he fled.


    The smallpox spread rapidly through the densely populated capital, and the Mexica, unprepared and deprived of an effective organization to handle the epidemic, could no longer control it. The disease directly destroyed the core ruling group of the empire and killed eighty percent of the population.


    The City-State Alliance was subsequently dissolved, headless and leaderless. Two years later, during the second siege, the chaotic capital was conquered by the conquerors and the Tlaxcala servant army, marking the fall of the Aztec civilization.


    What followed was Tarasco, the Mixtec, the Zapotecs, the Maya, and all of Central America. The returned "Feathered Serpent" brought only death and destruction.


    "Disease, myths, servants, cavalry, warships." Xiulote counted off on his fingers, "The five weapons of the colonizers in conquering the New World. One by one, let''s eliminate potential servants first, then reform the religion."


    The youth was once again caught up in dreams beyond his reach until Acap patted his shoulder. "Look to the south."


    Xiulote looked southward, where a magnificent army appeared at the horizon, with throngs of people stretching across the sky, their red battle robes soaking the clouds. That was the color of cochineal, a dyestuff Tribute from the Royal City. After a full month, Xiulote finally saw the imperial army.


    King Tizoc first mobilized at the capital''s tri-city area, assembling ten Xiquipillies, that is, eight thousand-man legions, into a royal army group, half of which were elite units from the City-States, including as many as two thousand Jaguar and Eagle Warriors. It was an army that no City-State could confront.


    The grand army displayed the new king''s awe-inspiring authority, first marching west for a week to intimidate Tarasco and the cities to the west, gathering the Allied Forces from various states.


    The army from Tepanecapan was the first to join, followed by those from Tollocan and Tzalko, successively adding five eight-thousand-man legions. The grand army then turned southeast for ten days, passing through Cuauhnahuac and Xochipeople, adding two more eight-thousand-man legions.


    The troops then stayed for two days, meeting with the leaders of the Qontal people and concurrently intimidating the southern border of the Tlaxcallans, causing a wave of villagers to flee inland. Finally, the grand army turned north, marching for a week, pulling another three eight-thousand-man legions from the rich Tzalko. Among these subsequently joined City-State armies, the ratio of elite units was slightly lower, about two-fifths.


    At that moment, an army of twenty legions, a vast and overwhelming force that covered the sky and shadowed the sun, marched north, arriving at the ancient city of Teotihuacan, which was merely a three-day straight-line distance from the capital city. It astonishingly included over seventy thousand samurai! This was the power that intimidated all the tribes of Mexica.


    "As time advances our state and the Heaven above bless its offspring, so rightly we must follow the order. Speak lightly of threats, and none shall stand unshaken." Watching the magnificent army that was gradually advancing and now filled the entire field of vision, Xiulote involuntarily recited an ancient passage.


    "What are you saying?" Acap asked curiously.


    "I am saying that seeing the great army of the King, I am much amazed," Xiulote made a gesture of astonishment. "It seems the King is not in a hurry to punish the Otomi people, but primarily to inspect each city, declaring his majesty."


    "You speak truly," Acap said, laughing as he clasped Xiulote''s shoulder.


    "Every city-state is a descendant of the Heavenly Divine, autonomously deciding matters within dozens of miles. Although the King is the leader of the alliance, he cannot directly command the military and administrative affairs of the city-states, nor can he fully control the Great Nobility of the capital. To make the city-states obey, one must rely on the military power and the monarch''s prestige of the capital, as well as blood relationships like ours from this city-state."


    "Thus, the first task for a new king is to establish his prestige in the hearts of the city-states. Firstly, by gathering a large army, then inspecting each state, and simultaneously meeting tributes, while also intimidating rivals. Conquering enemies and sacrificing them is the final step to declare his majesty."


    "Kill a turkey to frighten a troop of monkeys," Xiulote thought of a familiar idiom.


    "Turkey, monkeys?" Acap paused, then burst into loud laughter, "That analogy is so interesting."


    Acap then lowered his voice, looked around, and whispered with a chuckle, "If we compare the city-states to monkeys, then the king who occupies the capital is the Monkey King. Only when the Monkey King is strong enough can he command the nearby monkeys."


    "From that perspective, if a monkey strays too far, it becomes a wild monkey, or a group of wild monkeys, needing a regular beating, to ensure timely delivery of the fruits."


    "Right. However, the Otomi people are neither monkeys of the same kind nor foolish turkeys. They are cunning earth dogs. As soon as things look bad, they will hide themselves in burrows."


    As they were talking, the vanguard of the army had already arrived forcefully. Four elite groups of eight thousand each passed through the southern road, then set up camp by Lake Haltocan. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Over thirty thousand warriors of various ranks clustered together, forming a moving sea of red and black pointed hats and yellow beast helmets, the obsidian war clubs reflecting a sea of light. The camp was bustling with voices, faces eager and confident, infected by the group''s power, at the peak of morale.


    On the lake, thousands of dugout canoes carrying food sailed from the capital area of Lake Texcoco. Ten years of food reserves were utilized, ensuring the troops were well supplied.


    Then, an entire legion of veteran warriors, marching in the most organized formation Xiulote had ever seen in his life, approached silently. All in leather armor, carrying javelins in their backs, one thousand Jaguar warriors, one thousand Eagle warriors, and six thousand Fourth Level warriors. No words were needed, their relaxed yet always ready-to-fight demeanor proved this was the core force of the Empire.


    Xiulote and Acap fell silent. In the presence of absolute power, even the most fearless words felt weak and ineffectual. Xiuxoke strode over in two steps, pulling Xiulote back into line, clearly the King would not stray far from his trump cards. Xiulote noticed that Xiuxoke also had a solemn and somewhat tense physique.


    Following the most powerful legion in Central America, the royal litter of Tratuoani Tizoc, guarded by five hundred "hairshearers", processed slowly. These guards, resembling Xiongnu, had shaven most of their hair, leaving only a patch on the top and sides of their skulls. Dressed in green, thick cotton armor, draped in net-like cloaks studded with flags depicting abstract symbols of the Sun God.


    Xiulote simply perceived them as Imperial Guards, appearing very strong in combat.


    Regrettably, at this time in America, there were no suitable camel beasts, and there was no hope for ox carts, horse carts, or elephant carts. The divine lineage of Tizoc could only sit on a shoulder-carried litter borne by dozens of people, dressed in a white robe adorned with red patterns, wearing a white skull-shaped helmet, very conspicuous, its helmet also featuring green long feathers. This imagery, derived from ancient legends of powerful Evil Spirits.


    Behind the shoulder litter, a row of feathered flags fluttered high, equally striking, with various pictographs painted on them. Xiulote was struggling to discern the sun, cactus, eagle, serpent, lake, and giants depicted, when an envoy hurriedly approached.


    "The supreme Sun God, War God, Guardian God Huitzilopochtli''s descendant, ruler of Tenochtitlan in the Lake Region, the great and glorious Tratoani Tizoc, wants to meet with his kindred, the ancient and holy city manager of Teotihuacan, High Priest Xutel!"

 Chapter 12 - 12 Dedication Song

    Chapter 12: Chapter 12 Dedication SongXutel nodded, and followed the Messenger away.


    The High Priest today was particularly grandiose, adorning his full set of regalia. A Ruby Divine Crown, a Sun Cape, a robe adorned with gold and silver symbols of the sun and the moon, Gold Feather Bracers, and Wolf Feather Shoes. In his hand was an additional Divine Artifact: the Feathered Divine Staff from the murals of the Sun God, with its shaft curving downward and ending in a golden serpent''s head.


    His pace was slow but resolute as he walked through the aisle parted by the "crop-haired samurai," approaching the dazzling and daunting "skull warriors."


    Xiulote found the scene inexplicably familiar, reminiscent of certain games he used to be fervent about. He looked around, only to see that whether they were priests, nobility, or warriors, everyone held their breath and cast down their eyes, not daring to disturb nor directly witness this sacred moment.


    The "skull warrior" Tizoc rose from his shoulder-litter, looking down from his elevated position and appearing unusually tall. He also unfurled his Sun Cape, then lifted the Sun God Scepter from his waist, touching it to the Divine Staff in the High Priest''s hands, symbolizing the exchange between gods.


    The two suns completed a set of elaborate and soundless rituals, akin to a mime show. Only then, amidst everyone''s awe-stricken gaze, did they resume normal human interaction.


    "The theocracy of the City-State era is somewhat like the Pharaoh regime from ancient times. Relying on the rule of mythology, once the mythology is broken, people will become directionless," pondered Xiulote.


    The King and the High Priest''s human interaction, however, was brief. The two exchanged a few words with stern expressions before nodding to one another.


    Soon, Xutel gestured for him to come forward, and then Xiuxoke advanced, kneeling on one knee with his head bowed, allowing the King to grasp his hair. Xiulote had seen this scene in the murals before and surmised that it must signify an oath to dedicate one''s life. Afterwards, the young man stole a glance at the King; through the slits in the bone helmet, intertwined tattoos obscured his face, but Xiulote sensed he was around forty to fifty years of age.


    When it was Xiulote''s turn, the ceremony was much simpler. The King merely gave the boy a cursory glance and nodded slightly. He then bestowed upon him a finely-crafted Obsidian Dagger, its hilt inlaid with exquisite turquoise. Conveniently, the boy slipped the dagger into his bosom, his previous one having been given away during a prisoner capture.


    After meeting with relatives, the King summoned some of the Great Nobility and the priests in turn, performing some procedural rituals. Afterwards, the High Priest invited the King to enter the ancient city and enjoy the banquet together.


    The banquet was the most lavish meal Xiulote had ever had. It started with hearty pottery bowls of corn, pumpkin, and beans, representing the three most important staple foods bestowed by the gods to mankind. However, this was more a formality, and at such an event, no one would partake of these.


    Next was a bowl of blood-red cocoa beverage, mixed with chili, honey, and an array of spices, then colored to resemble fresh blood. This was a drink for warriors and nobility; it had to be consumed with a solemn and dignified demeanor.


    After drinking, Xiulote''s face completely changed color ¨C the taste was a bizarre mix of bitter, spicy, sweet, and cocoa.


    The food that followed was much more normal: boiled tomatoes, turkey, deer, cacti, papaya, avocado, and tequila infused with insects or chili, available for selection as desired.


    Xiulote ate a bit then stopped, as did everyone else. His utensils were an Obsidian Dagger with a shallow indentation in the middle, which could cut meat and also serve as a spoon and fork, just careful not to cut his mouth. In such formal occasions, the wooden spoon Xiulote normally favored was not quite presentable.


    After several rounds of drinks, the High Priest, Xutel, waved his hand, signaling for the dance to commence.


    First, naturally, was the dance of sacrifice. Braziers were lit with smoking leaves and spices; the mystical fragrance wafted through the hall, inducing a trance-like state as if entering the Divine Kingdom. The priests, adorned with feather crowns and jeweled belts, step forward to dance and perform, singing an ancient and archaic chant:


    "My heart is a flower,


    It blossoms in an instant,


    The king of night indeed,


    Oh ya oh ya oh a ya.


    "


    "The Goddess returns from afar,


    Our Earth Mother bestows,


    All things upon me, Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Oh ya oh ya oh a ya.


    "


    "I am the God of Maize, born in Heaven,


    Amidst the blooming flowers.


    That one flower unique in the world,


    Yantala, yantala, a ya ya a.


    "


    "I am the God of Maize, born in the land of mist and rain,


    The cradle of mankind.


    The Mountain God''s homeland,


    Yantala, yantala, a ya ya a.


    "


    "Dawn arrives with a radiant sunrise.


    With my colorful spoon,


    I drink nectar from standing blooms,


    Yantala, yantala, a ya ya a.


    "


    "Upon the Earth,


    Walking through the bustling market,


    I, the Feathered Serpent, Quetzalcoatl,


    Am master of the world,


    Yantala, yantala, a ya ya a.


    "


    The priests'' song was deep and resonant, the rattling of their attire echoing through the air, an ancient charm fading with the wind. The King Tizoc was completely entranced, lightly nodding his head to the rhythm. After the song concluded, it took him a long while to come back to his senses. "High Priest, what is this divine chant? I''ve never heard it before," he said.


    "Your Majesty, this is the Hymn of the Feathered Serpent," Xutel replied with a smile and a nod, "Over the years, the priests have been studying the murals of our ancestral city, finding many myths that differ from the ones passed down to us. This song speaks of the Feathered Serpent once being the ruler of the world."


    Tizoc nodded, "After the banquet concludes, please, High Priest, tell me more about our ancestors'' myths. We must always return to the Divine Kingdom."


    Next was the Nobility Song. Some noble girls draped in lavish capes, wearing passionate tunics, and shaking gemstone bracelets, began to sing the joyous song of leisure of the nobility:


    "I love the colors of the world,


    the brilliant flowers and feathers.


    In the season that moves your heart,


    light up the intoxicating divine smoke.


    "


    "Dance with us,


    let your bitterness flee,


    adorn yourself with them,


    the beautiful gold cocoa flowers.


    "


    "Then kiss beneath the blossoms,


    share the joy of you and me,


    singing beautifully here.


    The cheerful songs of birds and parrots,


    echoing beside the tinkling springs.


    "


    "You are like a cup of cocoa,


    with it, my heart is filled with joy,


    my heart is soaring,


    my heart is soaring.


    "


    The girls'' singing was melodious and cheerful, like larks in the sky. Their capes whirled, revealing their graceful figures, also with a hint of allure and temptation. As the passionate dance finally came to an end, sweat drenched their tunics. The girls then caught their breath, with dewy eyes, anticipating the king on stage.


    Perhaps it was the fervent message hidden in the song, or perhaps it was the fragrance of the girls close at hand, Xiulote felt a rush of heat to his head and soon blushed.


    The rest in front of the hall maintained their composure. Clearly, such singing and dancing were just a trivial scene for the nobles present.


    Tizoc stroked his hand and lightly praised, "The song and dance are decent, not as grand as those in the capital city but has its own sense of purity."


    Xutel nodded with a slight smile, "Does the king fancy the dancers in the song?"


    Tizoc pondered for a moment, shook his head. His expression unchanged, "On the march, there''s no hurry for the pleasures of singing."


    The High Priest then waved his hand, signaling the beautiful girls to retire.


    Lastly was the Warrior Dance. The city-state''s most outstanding samurai entered the hall, led by Olosh, adorned with bright flowers, carrying ancient shields and wooden sticks without obsidian blades in them. When shield and stick collided, they sang the song of the warrior and the flower:


    "The life of a warrior fades like a fleeting flower,


    all glory shall pass away,


    dazzling honors return to the earth.


    Is there a most brilliant moment?


    "


    "Let flowers die in their bloom,


    leaving behind unforgettable songs!


    Let my heart be an offering to the land,


    this mortal world is but fleeting~


    "


    The samurai''s dance started with soothing calm, then resonated with metallic clangs, and finally, all returned to a solemn calm. Afterwards, the leader Olosh stepped forward, knelt on one knee before Tizoc, offering him a bouquet of flowers.


    Tizoc merely nodded slightly, maintaining a godly aloofness, without saying a word.


    Xutel gestured for the samurai to retreat as well. He then inquired, "What does the king think?"


    "It''s adequate," Tizoc simply stated, obviously not much interested in the samurai''s performance.


    "High Priest, since the entertainment has concluded," Tizoc leaned slightly, his tone bearing some anticipation, "let''s discuss the myths of the ancestors in detail. Once this campaign is over, I can carve a new ritual plate beside the sun stone sacrificial plate in the temple, combining the myths with war."


    "It would be my pleasure to serve you."


    The lengthy banquet finally ended, bidding farewell to the spirited king. Everyone dispersed, and the family of three could finally gather together.


    Looking around, Xiuxoke asked softly, "Father, did you specifically arrange the entertainment to see what the new king is like?"


    "An exceptional Divine Descendant, a competent noble, a lacking commander-in-chief," Xutel pondered for a moment, the old wrinkles not overshadowing the sharpness in his eyes, "This campaign is likely to end in difficulty achieving victory, but it would only be a minor defeat!"


    Xiulote seemed to understand something¡ªit was a trial. In this era of frequent wars, with city-states standing side by side, everyone held their own opinions and judgments.


    "In today''s world, not only does a king choose his followers, but the followers also choose their king!" The youth couldn''t help but softly exclaim in admiration. Looking at his grandfather''s weathered face, he was wholeheartedly convinced!

 Chapter 13 - 13 Prophecies and Astrology

    Chapter 13: Chapter 13 Prophecies and AstrologyThe King stayed in the ancient city for two days, listening to the High Priest interpret the murals of the ancient Holy City, with Xiulote also listening to the mythological stories for two days.


    "...And so, the world emerged from nothingness, when there was neither Heaven nor the underworld, no Father Divine nor Mother Goddess. At the beginning of all things, there existed only the first divinity Ometeotl, the object of veneration and the source of the Otomi''s name."


    "He possessed two opposing natures, being both heaven and earth, both fire and water, light as well as darkness, order and chaos. These opposing natures gave birth to two divine beings, one male, one female. Their union bore the War God Huitzilopochtli, the original Sun God Tezcatlipoca, Xiulotel¡ªgod of death and rebirth, and Quetzalcoatl¡ªthe Feathered Serpent Divine."


    Xutel gently caressed the ancient mural carvings, slowly interpreting them for King Tizoc.


    "I see. Since the War God Huitzilopochtli inherited the esteemed position of the Sun God and promised us, the Mexica people, a fertile valley, he shall be the sole Chief Divine," Tizoc nodded, "The Otomi people claim to be descendants of the primeval ancestors. In this campaign, we must compel them to hand over the temple carvings, destroy the old gods'' statues, and convert to the great Sun God."


    "Very well. The Sun God will bless the King," Xutel assured with a gentle tone.


    Tizoc smiled in satisfaction. Then, as though asking casually, "By the way, isn''t your grandson named Xiulote? And he''s twelve this year?"


    "This," Xutel faltered slightly, recalling the other''s theological expertise and his own impulsive excitement from years ago, and he couldn''t help but clench his hand.


    Trying to be as truthful as possible, the High Priest replied, "Return to the King. Xiulote was born soon after the great Montezuma I passed away. On that night, the Night Star shone brightly in the sky. I named him after Xiulotel, the Night Star Divine, hoping to capture the essence of Venus, the Morning Star."


    "Indeed. I too noticed the sky on that night of my grandfather''s passing. The Morning Star was shining brightly," Tizoc stared intently at Xutel''s face, watching the old man''s expression, "Xiulotel, the Morning Star, also symbolizes death and rebirth. I have heard these two days that the child has always been bright, seemingly born with knowledge."


    "Xiulote is indeed precocious, but he only knows numbers well, and is naive about worldly affairs," Xutel quickly bowed his head, and his tattooed cheeks seemed to be dissolving in sweat.


    "Great Montezuma I, a descendant of the Sun God, had the merit of sacrifices and glorious conquests, and on the day of his death, he was surely personally received by the Sun God and led into the Divine Kingdom; he could not possibly return to the world of the living. The bright Night Star was indeed a sign of the Sun God''s descent!"


    "As for Xiulotel, merely an escort for the sun during its nightly travels, how could it influence the sun''s death and rebirth?" Xutel raised his head once more, his face now sincerely earnest.


    Tizoc remained silent. His eyes held a hint of murderous intent and suspicion, fixed intensely on Xutel. Xutel maintained an expression of genuine openness. The great hall suddenly quieted down.


    Xiulote was gazing at the simple and abstract murals, pondering how these ancient myths, so long-standing and abstruse, were ultimately subject to the priests'' interpretation. Suddenly, did he hear his own name?


    As the young man turned around, he saw the scene frozen like sculpted stone carvings. The King and his grandfather stood facing each other, engaged in a "deeply affectionate" exchange.


    Curious, he moved closer, and a sudden insight came to him; he looked at the King innocently, then at his grandfather, and blinked his eyes.


    "Haha." Tizoc suddenly burst into hearty laughter upon seeing Xiulote''s oblivious and ingenuous face.


    "The High Priest speaks wisely. I too have received divine messages in dreams that my grandfather has already been led by the Sun God back to the Divine Kingdom, assisting the Guardian God in governing the mortal realm. These years of prosperity and wealth in Mexica are the blessings of the Heavenly Divine and our ancestors."


    "However, being born on the day of the Sun God''s descent is an auspicious sign," Tizoc again chuckled, "The Tengu Xiulotel who escorts the sun at night surely also escorted my grandfather back to the Divine Kingdom. Xiulote''s birth is a manifestation of this event in the mortal world. This child is the blessing of the Tengu."


    "Come, bestow the garment," Tizoc beckoned to someone behind him, and a Tonsured Guard stepped forward, unfolding a meticulously crafted black feathered garment. The garment was quite ornate, its back adorned with a depiction of Xiulotel, the beast that shields the sun, in a Tengu Costume¡ªclearly prepared in advance.


    As for whether there were any other preparations, Xiulote glanced at the group of silent, Tonsured Samurai behind, but he couldn''t tell.


    Upon donning the Tengu Costume, Xiulote felt that it fit him perfectly, much to his surprise. He thanked the King profusely, blissfully unaware that he had narrowly missed a potentially fatal disaster.


    The King smiled and patted his head, then said to Xutel, "I see this child is quite sharp and has taken my fancy. Let him accompany me during this campaign for his safety, and that he may learn something about conducting war. Once the campaign is over, I shall return him to the High Priest."


    Xutel looked at the young man, then at the King, and could only nod in agreement, "Your Majesty''s favor is this child''s honor. Xiulote''s learning in numeracy is already not far behind mine. However, in conduct and understanding the world, he is still naive and ignorant. If he unwittingly gives offense, I pray that Your Majesty will forgive him." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tizoc gave a noncommittal "oh." He then laughed and said, "High Priest, do not worry. Since we share the same bloodline, I will treat him as my junior."


    The two then exchanged formal goodbyes. Xiulote didn''t understand what had transpired in between but saw his grandfather entrusting him to the King. The young man suddenly felt as if he had been sold. With a face full of question marks, he bid farewell to his father and followed the King out of the city.


    "What was all that secretive talk about just now?" Xiulote recalled the conversation and remembered something about stars and Heavenly Divine, "Astronomy, divinations, truly hard to understand." he muttered.


    By this time, the King''s palanquin had arrived at the lakeside camp. The large army filled the entire lakeshore, with more than ten militia legions having already arrived. Along with a mixed legion from Teotihuacan, a grand total of twenty legions, a force of one hundred sixty thousand soldiers.


    Even as the officers tried their best to maintain order within the camp, it was still a scene of utter chaos. The Samurai, having rested for a day, still presented a decent military appearance. The newly arrived Militia, however, were already in disarray, taking water to cook and causing a ruckus by the lake.


    It was upon Tizoc''s return that he witnessed this scene. The King''s countenance showed no change as he whispered a few words to a tall man standing by his side.


    The youth saw the tall man nod. He had a stern face with Tonsured stripes, wearing a special double-sided cloak that somewhat resembled a person in a poncho. The front of the cloak depicted the iconic Aztec Sun Stone, while the back featured a feminized giant Serpent.


    The tall man then walked over to a group of officers behind the palanquin. Xiulote noticed several men in double-sided cloaks. On the front of each cloak were sun stones of varying sizes, and on the backs were different weapons drawn: Javelins, War Clubs, Shields, Stone Spears, Obsidian Daggers, and even slings and bows and arrows.


    After a brief conversation, a man with an Obsidian Dagger depicted on his cloak hurried off. It wasn''t long before the camp erupted in commotion, and then quickly fell silent.


    A Tonsured Guard was seen holding a Long Spear high, its tip adorned with a dozen freshly blood-dripping heads. Witnessing this, a chill ran through Xiulote''s spine. He began to form some conjecture about the significance of the Obsidian Dagger.


    The man led the Imperial Guards along the lakeshore to make an example, while the village Bailiffs were also loud in their efforts to organize the ranks. Soon, the previously disorderly Militia regained proper discipline.


    Upon returning, the man with the cloak painted with a Dagger respectfully reported back to the King on the palanquin. Xiulote then saw the King nod slightly, as though giving him another instruction.


    The man nodded in acknowledgment. He then stood up and strode towards Xiulote.


    Only then could Xiulote see clearly. The man appeared to be about the same age as his father, muscular, and quite handsome, but his face always carried a hint of an elusive smile. Perhaps it was psychological, but the young man felt as though he could smell fresh blood.


    After sizing up the young man for a while, the man revealed a sincere grin, showing his teeth, "Hello, Xiulote. I am Ahuizotl."

 Chapter 14 - 14 Conversation, Memory, and the Beginning

    Chapter 14: Chapter 14 Conversation, Memory, and the BeginningAt first, Xiulote was somewhat hesitant about the arrival of Ahuizotl.


    But soon, Ahuizotl produced the Jade Token of the High Priest. This token had always been closely guarded by his grandfather, representing significant trust.


    "Your grandfather entrusted me to take care of you. From now on, I am your teacher!" Ahuizotl said with a smile. His smile was like the refreshing fragrance of pines and cypresses, making one feel a sense of kinship unconsciously.


    "Now, I''ll help you adapt here. In the future, we share the same goals," Ahuizotl said with a smile that suggested deeper meaning. His smile was like a warm spring breeze but also carried a chilling seriousness.


    Within a few days, under Ahuizotl''s gentle instruction and considerate care, Xiulote accepted this wise teacher and also considered him a close friend. Ahuizotl cared deeply for the boy''s well-being, attending to his every need with meticulous care. He always smiled sincerely and chatted with him, resonating with the boy''s thoughts and dispelling his loneliness.


    One day, Ahuizotl called the young man to watch the sunset together. They watched as the brilliant red hues filled the sky, even the treetops flickered with colorful, shimmering light. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ahuizotl took out a small flask, took a hearty swig, and then passed it to Xiulote. The boy also drank heartily; the flask contained tequila flavored with honey and spices. The alcohol was delicious, seemingly purified, but its proof was masked by the sweetness of the honey and the strong fragrance of the spices, making it very pleasant to drink.


    Xiulote, while enjoying the magnificent scenery, chatted with his teacher, and, without realizing it, drank more than intended.


    Looking at the boy''s flushed face and feeling his slightly swaying body, Ahuizotl smiled faintly. He skillfully deepened the conversation. Under the influence of the delightful intoxication, the alcohol''s effect, and an unknown potion''s encouragement, Xiulote no longer held back. He finally spoke his heart.


    "Are you saying that the sun is a big fireball, and the ground beneath our feet is a big ball of earth, and this big earth ball is constantly rotating around the big fireball day and night?!" Ahuizotl looked at Xiulote in shock.


    "Yes, yes. Ahuizotl, you''re so clever; you understood it as soon as I explained," Xiulote said with excitement, patting Ahuizotl''s shoulder. "The earth beneath our feet is also constantly spinning on its own. It''s because of the rotation around the sun that we have the change of seasons. It''s precisely because of the earth''s own rotation that we have day and night!"


    Ahuizotl looked seriously at Xiulote''s face, only to see sincerity, drunken redness, and the excitement of finding a kindred spirit. Thus, he fell silent. Even with his ability, he could not tell if Xiulote was truly foolish with drink, or feigning foolishness.


    "You truly are different from ordinary people," was all Ahuizotl could say in the end.


    "My grandfather said the same," Xiulote replied. The young man laughed heartily. No one had ever listened so patiently to his scientific knowledge from a previous life or to his explanations of natural phenomena. He had discussed a different understanding of the world with his grandfather and father. His father had scoffed at these ideas, while his grandfather was delighted that he was different from ordinary people. Neither cared about the content of his words.


    Drunk words are sober thoughts, and the barely detectable potion also brought a strong sense of trust. Xiulote''s emotions were highly agitated. He couldn''t help but express some of the thoughts hidden in his heart, releasing some of the continuous pressure from living in an era with vastly different values from his own.


    "When I was very young, there were different memories in my mind, or rather some visions," Xiulote gesticulated as he described. Alcohol affected his movements, and it also influenced his thinking.


    "What memories?" Ahuizotl asked with a renewed, sincere smile.


    "In that memory, I lived in an era fundamentally at peace, having never ended another person''s life... There wasn''t this much bloodshed and murder in the world," Xiulote said somewhat nostalgically, with a touch of lament.


    Even though equality wasn''t truly realized in his past life, the idea of it still existed. Unlike now, the concept of hierarchy was deeply ingrained, like a divine will, and killing among different levels was common.


    "In my past understanding, life was precious. One''s life should not be taken at will; the taking comes abruptly, as though it''s justified and completely irresistible!"


    Since arriving in this era and witnessing more bloodshed than he ever would have in his previous life, Xiulote constantly felt a strong sense of insecurity. Even though born into a privileged family, he still couldn''t ensure the longevity of his own safety.


    In this era, the end of life was all too arbitrary, with the lives of commoners falling like weeds. Nobles and priests still died on the cruel battlefields and in secretive assassinations. In truth, he had narrowly escaped death on several occasions. The fear of when the Western colonizers would arrive, unknown to him, was deeply buried in his heart, unspeakable.


    "Ahuizotl, tell me, by what right does the King stand highest, directing my life and the lives of others? Nobles inherit their status generation after generation, higher than others, controlling almost all wealth, and my family is the same. Commoners toil hard all year, yet struggle to feed themselves, unable to sustain their children and the elderly. Slaves have no future at all. They either die in the mines or in the fields, or become sacrifices...


    If given the same education, how much of a gap would there be between their wisdom and abilities and those of the respected ones? How can the respected ones have the right to crush others? Should we perhaps try to change something, pursue some degree of tolerance and equality?"


    Xiulote shook his head, his past memories swirling in his mind, longing for "home." There lay the values of his youth, the progressive ideas passed down over the years, and the way he was before the era changed him.


    In this era, what also disturbed him was the strict social hierarchy. Divine authority was supreme, ruling over society. Royal authority suppressed the nobility, the nobility controlled the warriors, and the warriors decided the life and death of commoners. The life of a king was spent preemptively eliminating threatening factions, nobles harshly executed disobedient commoners, and warriors indifferently slew uncivilized tribes; life was as transient as duckweed.


    In the "past" twenty years, he had grown accustomed to the company of friends, maintaining an independent self. He wasn''t ready yet to determine everything for others, nor did he want himself to be easily decided by others. Even if that person was the supreme King!


    The contradictory thoughts clashed violently in his mind. Everyone around him was instilling in him another kind of pure jungle law, a cognitive system that better "adapted" to this era.


    He was merging with the cruel times. It signified mutual compromise, the world, or himself, which couldn''t be accomplished in a single day.


    So he would occasionally go off the rails, making impulsive actions. Like showing pity to a girl when capturing prisoners, like recklessly dismantling his grandfather''s divine armor, and like this "dangerous" conversation.


    Aweit remained silent. He no longer needed to struggle with whether Xiulote was truly naive or just pretending. However, Xiulote''s words still caused some ripples to surface in his cold and cruel heart. Facing such a simple youth, he finally revealed some of his ruthless inner thoughts.


    "This world is inherently cold and cruel. Lions eat deer, deer eat grass, not eating means death, and death means being eaten. Priests, nobility, samurai, commoners, slaves. City-States people, foreigners, savages. What difference is there between a city-state and the jungle?"


    "Sunlight is finite, if you don''t pull out the weeds, corn can''t grow. Look at the rainforest, the higher you stand, the more sunlight you get, the longer you live. Pines live for a hundred years, reeds live for ten years, mushrooms live for a season. Where is the sameness? Even in death, there is no sameness."


    As he spoke, Aweit''s words fluctuated, "So-called life, so-called the equality you talk about, are all just accessories to power. As long as you are strong enough, you can be free. Until you reach the highest point, that is absolute freedom."


    As he spoke, he subconsciously glanced at the distant palanquin, and at the majestic King on it, and murmured to himself, "And I, am of divine lineage!" Suddenly becoming alert, he stopped speaking and turned his gaze to Xiulote.


    Seeing Xiulote still drunkenly zoning out, Aweit let out a slight sigh of relief and changed to a smiling expression.


    He patted Xiulote on the shoulder, steadied the unsteady youth, and said with a gentle smile, "Although I don''t know what memories you are talking about, I can hear the contradiction and confusion in your heart. As a samurai or a noble, overthinking is meaningless."


    As he spoke, he glanced again at Xiulote''s Tengu Costume. "As a Priest, you should also devote more thought to divinity, for royalty, divinity is humanity. Understanding divinity is to avoid dying in vain."


    Then, Aweit flashed another quick smile, "No, I''m wrong. You are just fine, very good! I will relay your understanding of the sun and earth to the King."


    "That way, you can preserve your precious life and the equality you cherish..." Aweit thought with a faint smile. Of course, this unspoken sentiment was unknowable to Xiulote, who just leaned on Aweit''s shoulder, drowsily falling asleep.


    The gentle May, with its breezy drizzles, softened the summer. The warm wind carried the freshness of moisture, stealthily ushering in the rainy season.


    After the Teotihuacan legions joined the coalition forces, the grand army went northwards, first veering northeast, intimidating the northern frontier bordering Tlaxcala and the Empire. King Tizoc and representatives from the city-state of Atotoztli met, continuing to flaunt their military strength while arranging defense against Tlaxcala.


    Upon the suggestion of the "Female Snakes" officer corps, the King left two legions directly under his command here to strengthen the defense and to surveil the Tlaxcalans and various city-states.


    Then, the grand army continued north for several days, reaching Mestitlan City which Xiulote once passed through. King Tizoc met with representatives of the Vastec people here, accepting another tribute. Then turning southwest, he received a city-state legion from Weyoplhethlan, reinstating twenty legions in size.


    Finally, the forces went straight west, aiming for the latest large city-state of the Otomi, Xilotepec City, a mere two weeks'' direct march from the capital.


    Swiftly, the twenty legions encircled Xilotepec City, severing the city-state''s supply of food, salt, and some of the water. The city stretched only four or five square kilometers. Eight core legions encamped on the east side, about ten thousand veteran warriors, twenty thousand capital warriors, and more than thirty thousand village warriors, stationed alongside the most convenient grain pathway, a tributary of the Tampen River, these were forces directly loyal to the King.


    The remaining twelve city-state legions were evenly stationed on the west, south, and north sides, with more than thirty thousand on each flank, approximately forty percent city-state warriors and sixty percent village warriors. Xiuxoke then led the Teotihuacan city-state legion stationed on the west, where Otomi reinforcements were most likely to appear.


    Father and son were distanced east to west, gazing at each other from afar. Since they parted at the Holy City, they hadn''t seen each other again. Xiulote often looked westward, but it was only on one evening that he saw over eight thousand direct city-state warriors quietly disappearing into the forest outside the encampment.


    The capital''s provisions could be sent up north along Lake Texcoco, crossing Lake Haltocan, entering the main stream of the Tampen River, then twisting westward, all the way directly to the encampment by the riverbank. A canoe full of grain, completing the journey, took just over half a month.


    King Tizoc''s army morale was soaring, with no concern for the dearth of food. Aweit told Xiulote that, according to the latest scout reports, inside Xilotepec City there were only eight thousand city-state warriors, over ten thousand conscripted village soldiers, and tens of thousands of civilians. Morale was low, and anxiety pervaded.


    If the two sides engaged in direct combat, the eight thousand veteran warriors could easily drive them into the Tampen River like scattering a troop of monkeys with just one charge.


    Now, Xiulote stood outside the eastern gate. What appeared in his line of sight was a four or five meter high wall, a mix of earth and stone, manned by the defending army. The narrow top of the wall was filled with warriors'' stone-throwing slings, throwing spears, simple bows and arrows, and piles of stones and wood were clearly visible.

 Chapter 15 - 15 Siege

    Chapter 15: Chapter 15 Siege"This city is not easy to besiege." Outside the eastern gate of Xilotepec City, after carefully observing the width, thickness, and material of the city walls, Xiulote spoke earnestly. Since his last heartfelt talk, Xiulote felt much lighter in his heart and seemed to have grown closer to Ahuizotl.


    "Of course, if Xilotepec were easy to conquer and were so close to us, it would have been subjugated and eradicated decades ago; it wouldn''t have lasted till today," Ahuizotl said with a smile.


    He liked spending time with Xiulote who had no sense of danger. It allowed him to feel an unusual sense of relaxation. "After years of campaigning, all that''s left in the north are stubborn rocks."


    "Aweit, have you noticed the cross-section of the city walls?" Xiulote continued to study seriously, "Inside it''s an amalgam of stone and clay. It doesn''t crumble at all despite being eroded by rainwater."


    "It should be a binder made of corn ash mortar mixed with lime," Ahuizotl got serious, "I remember seeing the craftsmen use it when I was supervising repairs on the pyramid; it''s very expensive."


    "If that''s the case, then it''s almost like glutinous rice mortar; it''s much stronger than cob. It''s impossible to undermine the foundations of the walls." sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What is glutinous rice? Undermining the foundation?" Ahuizotl asked with a laugh, "Xiulote, why do you have such interesting ideas? Are you planning to hew a city wall nearly ten steps wide with a stone axe?"


    Xiulote was at a loss for words, realizing that the Aztecs neither had iron nor copper pickaxes at the moment and were only equipped with easily worn stone and wooden tools.


    "So how do we usually besiege a city?" Xiulote asked the high-ranking officer beside him.


    "If the city walls are not tall, warriors command conscripts to pile up earth below them and then directly charge over it. The small cities of the Mixtecs to the south are very easy to conquer," Ahuizotl recalled.


    "But like now, with the walls being too high and thick, we usually don''t attack directly. It''s better to lay siege - cutting off water, food, and salt. After a few months, the city will surrender."


    "Our army is ten times the size of those inside the city; we could directly scale the walls with ladders, swarming over them like ants."


    "Using ladders for a direct assault causes too many casualties. Village militia are almost useless in a direct assault; their morale is too low to make it to the top. Using warriors would mean far too many dead and injured. In the face of stones or javelins thrown from the ramparts, even an Eagle Warrior is as vulnerable as a village soldier. Plus, the enemy''s civilians can also help defend, serving almost as half a conscript."


    "Don''t we have an experienced group of fighters? Two thousand Jaguar warriors and six thousand veteran fighters swarm up the walls like ants; surely the militia on the ramparts won''t be able to hold them off. At most, a thousand or so warriors might die before we break through the city."


    Ahuizotl turned his head and looked at Xiulote with an incredulous expression, "Have you lost your mind? Using Jaguar and Eagle Warriors to siege the city? They are all military nobility, the core force in the suppression of states by the Alliance. This is not a nation war with Tlaxcala or Tarasco, it''s a City-State subjugation. If hundreds of military nobility die in such a City-State war, the King would have to stop waging wars and prepare to return home to deal with rebellions instead."


    Xiulote paused to think, weighing the analogy. If the Polish king lost five hundred Noble Knights in a battle against the Crimean Tatars... well, forget that thought.


    Xiulote continued to observe the city walls. The warriors around him started to howl loudly, intimidating the enemies within the city. They beat their shields with their war clubs, producing a fierce pounding sound. The conscripted soldiers behind them also began to roar. The city walls, close by, went into a brief panic and then settled down under the firm control of the nobility and the priests.


    In this Medieval battlefield devoid of cannons, counterweight trebuchets, stone-throwing machines, and even lacking skilled archers for long-range pressure, the attackers had to endure the unrestrained firepower from the city walls. Attacking a strong city became an extremely difficult task.


    Relying on village warriors with low morale and insufficient training was impossible for a forceful attack on a large City-State defended by tens of thousands. And the elite City-State Warriors, the core strength of a City-State, could not be rashly wasted.


    So, the most common strategy was still to lay siege.


    "Do you have any other ideas?" Ahuizotl asked curiously.


    "The soil here doesn''t have much rock content, perhaps we can dig a tunnel and then directly breach the city from underneath."


    "Digging tunnels? You mean to say to cut a path underground, passing beneath the city walls? It sounds feasible." Aweit played the scenario out in his mind. "How deep would we need to dig? How wide should the tunnel be? How do we determine our direction underground? How long could we dig with a stone shovel in one day? And how can we avoid being detected by the enemy?"


    "Well..." Xiulote thought for a moment, certain he had never read a book with specific instructions on how to dig tunnels. "We can experiment with the details. We could also ask a miner for advice."


    So, Aweit filed the suggestion away in his mind for later. He began to take things more seriously, "Is there any other way?"


    "Perhaps we could design a simple catapult. As long as its range exceeds that of the archers on the city walls, and it can hurl stones weighing several pounds against the walls." Xiulote remembered the classic designs from countless games.


    "I know about hurling stones, but what''s a ''car''?"


    "..." Xiulote found it somewhat hard to describe, "It''s something with two or four wheels that can be pushed or pulled along."


    "What are wheels?"


    "..." Frustrated, Xiulote explained the shape and purpose of wheels with gestures and words.


    Quickly, Aweit got it, "So, it''s like the toys made by the Maya. I''ve seen them in the market at the capital city. They can be played with on the plaza under the Great Temple but once you leave the city, with all the mountains and trees, where can wheels be faster than people?"


    "If we had enough metal tools, we could cut down the trees, then build stone paths between the mountains and forests. With the use of wheeled carts, the city-states could communicate quickly, and the effective governance of the Alliance could extend to Vastec, Mixtec, and even farther to the Zapotecs."


    "That''s a good idea. Roads do expand a nation''s governing territory. But pushing carts on wheels, aside from being able to carry more things, surely wouldn''t be faster than running."


    Indeed, there were no beasts of burden in Central America at the moment. Perhaps we could go to North America and domesticate some bison, or bring llamas from South America to pull the carts? Xiulote''s thoughts drifted wildly.


    "So how should the catapult be designed?" Aweit, ever practical, steered the conversation back to siege warfare.


    "Let me try to draw it." Xiulote picked up a stick and squatted on the damp earth to draw, with Aweit looking on. One draped in a Priest''s robe of the Tengu and the other cloaked in a Commander''s cloak of the Sun Stone, the two high nobility were engrossed in their research, undisturbed by the warriors who came and went.


    "Complex trebuchets are definitely out of the question. The Romans seem to have had torsion catapults? Torsion, torsion... that sounds like it requires sinew or some sort of elastic rope, which we don''t have and can''t make."


    "We need to think more primitively. Let''s consider the primitive catapults Cao Cao had in the era of the Three Kingdoms¡ªI remember seeing it in the old ''Romance of the Three Kingdoms''. It should have a central support, with a swiveling lever on top, the short end pulled with a rope by men, and the long end hurling stones."


    After striving to remember for a while, Xiulote eventually sketched the simplest form of a manual catapult, unfortunately not having studied the construction of catapults in depth despite reading so many time-travel novels.


    Aweit, observing the abstract drawings on the ground, pondered carefully, imagining it in his mind. "The short end drives the long end, which hurls the stones¡ªit seems indeed feasible. This process is somewhat like a sling, which also spins to throw stones."


    "Xiulote, using a sling takes years of training to ensure accuracy¡ªhow will this catapult ensure precision?"


    "We should probably standardize the design, then use a fixed configuration"¡ªXiulote recollected the simplistic descriptions from novels. "But to know the exact details of how to do it, we''d still have to try. Maybe we should ask a carpenter?"


    While the two were enthusiastically discussing, suddenly they saw the city gates in front of them open. A Priest, adorned with a feather crown and wearing a rare black-and-white cape, walked slowly towards the camp, commanding the attention of tens of thousands of City-State Warriors, holding high a scepter as he emerged from Xilotepec City.

 Chapter 16: Passing Through

    Chapter 16: Chapter 16: Passing Through"Honorable newly appointed Mexica Tlatohuani," said a Priest of Xilotepec City, holding a staff within the tent surrounded by curtains. "Descendants of the Primordial God, the God of Day and Night, Ometeotl, greet you."


    Xiulote stood on the left side of the Priesthood inside the tent, curiously examining the attire of the Xilotepec envoy ¡ª a mix of black and white stripes reminiscent of a wild animal from his homeland twenty thousand li away ¡ª the national treasure, the giant panda.


    To the right in the tent stood a group of commanders draped in Sun Stone capes; the man painted with a "serpent woman" on his back was the leader. Aweit stood at the back of the commanders'' group, wearing a sincere smile.


    In the center of the tent sat the King, adorned in a splendid red and white battle robe, his head topped with a skull helm. The King sat high on a platform, maintaining the majesty of a god. He had no intention of descending to perform sacred rites but instead gazed coldly at the envoy.


    "Respected King," the Priest envoy bowed his head, his tone all the more respectful. "Xilotepec has always timely paid tribute to you and the great Alliance, and the City Lord has married a noblewoman from Mexica. We are loyal subjects of the great Alliance. I''m unaware of why His Majesty would march to war against us."


    The King softly gestured to the Priesthood to continue maintaining his mythical posture.


    Before Xiulote, an elderly Priest in a Sun Cape stepped forward: "Xilotepec is guilty of three crimes. First, the quantity of last year''s tribute did not meet the requirements of the Alliance. Second, they secretly allied with the Otomi City-States to the west, harboring ill intentions. Third, they worship the old gods." When mentioning the third point, the elderly Priest looked sharply at the envoy.


    The envoy maintained his bowed posture until he heard the third charge, at which point he lifted his head, his face showing a shocked expression.


    The Priest continued: "The great Descendants of the Sun God demand that Xilotepec City-State surrender ten years'' worth of tribute, sacrifices of three thousand men, annul alliances with the Otomi City-States. Hand over the Ritual Plates used for ceremonies and record-keeping in the temples, and convert to the worship of the great Sun God, War God Huitzilopochtli."


    "Surrender the Ritual Plates and convert? These are unacceptable terms!" the Priest envoy shouted, clearly losing his composure. "The great Primordial God watches over us, the City-State boasts one hundred thousand warriors, three years of food supplies, and fortifications as solid and indestructible as mountain-top Divine Stones."


    The King gestured again to the officers. Xiulote saw that the stony-faced leader stepped forward: "Then we will besiege the city for three years! The Tampen River will continue to bring us provisions, and reinforcements from the Alliance are continuously arriving. We can stay here for ten years!"


    "Moreover, you have only twenty thousand warriors and a year''s worth of food supplies," the stony man coldly spat out the harsh truth, "After a year, from Descendants to slaves, every male in the city will be sacrificed."


    The envoy''s expression froze, and silence filled the tent for a moment.


    "Tributes, sacrifices, Ritual Plates, conversion." King Tizoc spoke for the first time, "Go back and relate to the Divine Descendants of your City-State that they have only one chance."


    The envoy from Xilotepec could only leave silently.


    After the envoy departed, the solemn atmosphere in the tent lightened somewhat. Tizoc relaxed his divine posture and asked Ahuizotl with a smile, "My dear brother, what''s the news from the Otomi to the far west?"


    Ahuizotl approached, his face becoming serious as he answered, "Respected King, according to intelligence gathered by our merchants, the Otomi are mobilizing. The nearby Otapan has mustered forty thousand people, with only ten thousand City-State Warriors. The more distant Guamare and Pamus each mobilized twenty thousand people, with each City-State Warrior numbering eight thousand."


    Tizoc nodded, then asked the stony cold man beside him with a smile, "My loyal Chief Commander Totec, how goes the preparation of the legion?" S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The stern Totec finally revealed a slight smile, responding, "If Otapan''s people rush to their aid, we will surprise them on the road." The other commanders also displayed understanding smiles.


    After concluding the military discussion, Tizoc finally found time to notice a corner of the tent.


    "Xiulote." He beckoned, smiling and inviting Xiulote over.


    "I just heard from Ahuizotl about your plan to build a large wooden trebuchet?"


    "It''s a trebuchet."


    Tizoc frowned slightly and muttered "Oh," not questioning what a ''trebuchet'' was, as it seemed trivial to him.


    "You say the sun is a giant fireball?" Tizoc went back to the main topic.


    "Yes, the Sun is a giant fireball, much larger than the Earth and very far from us," Xiulote answered earnestly.


    "Where does the Sun God reside?" Tizoc asked sternly, looking into Xiulote''s eyes.


    "This... it should be on the Sun," Xiulote cautiously weighed his words, not daring to debate the existence of gods, especially when the theologian was none other than the supreme Divine King.


    "You say the earth is a giant ball of dirt?" Tizoc pressed on.


    "Yes."


    "Then where does the Earth Mother Goddess dwell?"


    "...She should be at the center of the giant ball of dirt."


    "Come, Xiulote, spin around in your place a few times."


    Xiulote was baffled for a moment before obediently spinning a few times.


    "Do you feel dizzy?" the King asked with a smile.


    "Dizzy," Xiulote innocently replied.


    "So, you say the earth is constantly spinning?" the King chuckled, "Then why don''t we usually feel dizzy?"


    Xiulote was at a loss for words.


    He wanted to talk about the concept of relative velocity, but soon realized it was futile and irrelevant. In the end, he could only stammer.


    The King seemed very pleased. He appeared to have shed some hidden worries and concerns and no longer scrutinized the youth with piercing eyes.


    He gestured with his hand, beckoning the Tengu-clad Xiulote to come closer and step onto the platform. For the first time, he affectionately pinched Xiulote''s face with his hand. Hmm, it hurt a little.


    "You child," the King chuckled, "since you are to follow the path of a Priest, you must study astronomy and theology seriously. At least attain half of your grandfather''s expertise."


    "After all, your grandfather has already told me that you will eventually succeed him as the High Priest of Teotihuacan. Initially, I planned to marry a Princess to you, but alas, a Priest cannot have an official wife."


    "Ahuizotl, my brother," the King signaled to the military officers, and Ahuizotl quickly mounted the high platform, bowing his head in respect to the King.


    "The Teotihuacan lineage is also a direct bloodline of the Sun God, closely related to us in Tenochtitlan. You should treat Xiulote as your own nephew, and in this upcoming campaign, let Xiulote stay by your side. Teach him the basics of war and military."


    "You should devote more time to Xiulote. As for the intelligence and guard squad you handle, let the Chief Commander Totec take over temporarily."


    "Yes," Ahuizotl''s face showed frank respect and obedience, with no trace of dissatisfaction.


    "Xiulote, the Teotihuacan City-State has always been the most loyal supporter of the Royal Family. You must loyally obey the next Mexica Tlatohuani," Tizoc said with a smile, talking to Xiulote but his gaze stayed fixed on Ahuizotl''s face.


    When mentioning the "next Mexica Tlatohuani", he scrutinized every slight expression change on Ahuizotl''s face. "Just like your grandfather did with me."


    "I will heed your teachings," Xiulote dared not lose focus at this moment.


    "Good. You may leave now."


    They had walked far from the big tent, so far that the sun on the horizon began to set. The glaring sunlight finally moved away from the land.


    "Congratulations," Ahuizotl said to Xiulote with a smile.


    "What?"


    "You''ve passed."

 Chapter 17 - 17 Pre-War

    Chapter 17: Chapter 17 Pre-WarMexico''s rainy season began gently, like an unripe girl. The sun hid behind thin clouds, painting the sky a light golden yellow. A continuous drizzle fell in the faint sunlight, soaking the trees and grass until they dripped with verdant vitality.


    The mist by the riverbanks wove a hazy veil of smoke, as several small boats sailed through the rain, creating gentle ripples on the river''s surface. Seeing this scene, Xiulote couldn''t help but reminisce and miss the distant water towns of Jiangnan.


    It had been two weeks since the meeting with the envoy from Xilotepec City-State. Although the Chief Commander had made a harsh declaration, it would still be a year before it could be realized. The nobility of Xilotepec still had time to hesitate, argue and hope for reinforcements from their western allies, uncertain of their arrival.


    At this moment, he was in the forest by the river, directing some woodworkers and laborers, struggling to chop down the tough yellow rosewood with their crude stone axes.


    This species of convex-shaped yellow rosewood was an exceptionally fine redwood that could grow twenty to twenty-five meters tall, with a hard texture, beautiful grain, clear tone, and a faint fragrance.


    It was generally used for making high-grade guitars and furniture, and in later times, was worth its weight in gold. Now, Xiulote planned to use it to construct catapults.


    With the help of experienced woodworkers, he had completed the design of a human-powered catapult: it was a fixed trapezoidal frame, four to five meters tall, roughly the height of a wall. There was a long, lever-like catapult arm, tentatively set at eight meters in length, with a sling attached to the top and ropes for pulling at the bottom. A cross-beam was placed on the frame, and it was tied to the middle of the catapult beam and two meters from the base of the catapult arm with sisal ropes.


    When the catapult operator pulled the ropes, the two-meter short arm would drive the six-meter long arm, the crossbeam would remain stable while rotating on the frame, and the rocks placed at the top would be launched in a parabolic trajectory, striking distant cities.


    However, when trying to turn the design into a physical object, Xiulote faced his first problem: the crossbeam and catapult arm bore too much stress and were prone to breaking.


    Not understanding the techniques for reinforcing connections in wood or the methods for hardening wood, Xiulote could only think of a simple and rough idea: to use the best wood. The woodworkers thus recommended yellow rosewood.


    Chopping such a hard wood with a stone axe was like sawing a tree with a pocket knife. So an hour later, when Aweit found Xiulote, he was still sitting on a rock by the river, boredly watching the laborers work.


    "Can you get me a few bronze axes?" S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "For such excellent equipment, you''ll have to ask the Tonsured Guard to borrow it, they''re currently the only ones that have them in the camp. Of course, that''s if they''re willing to lend them to you."


    "Then I might as well ask the King." Thinking about the stern-faced Totec with his tonsured hair and tattooed face, Xiulote felt a great pressure. "At least the King seems much easier to talk to."


    Aweit chuckled without commenting. "I came to see you on important business today. Put aside your big toy for now. There''s a battle coming in the next few days, and I''ve applied to the King to take you to observe it. We need to leave tonight."


    "What battle? Wait, what toy? I''m creating a catapult, a revolutionary weapon."


    "An ambush on the Otomi people. The first batch of twenty-thousand reinforcements from Otapan has been on the move for a week and will soon be within the range of the elite troops'' ambush. Surpassing the era? Wait until your toy becomes a usable weapon before you say that."


    "When did the legion set up the ambush?" Xiulote thought and then said, "You mean the group of warriors that disappeared a few days ago?"


    "Eh, when did you see that? Seems like that army''s movements aren''t very discreet."


    "Alright, I''ll go. But why the sudden impulse to take me to see a battle? ...Aweit, it''s you who wants to join the fight, right?"


    Aweit laughed without answering.


    "Don''t stop, you all must cut down the yellow rosewood trees within these two days..."


    After shedding his priestly robes, Xiulote donned green leather armor and a battle robe, his entire persona radiating vigor, with the delicate features of his face gradually revealing a resilience in its lines.


    After taking some rest and making preparations at the camp, accompanied by a retinue of about a hundred escorts, the two of them bypassed the city and headed west through the forest from the north.


    Marching in the mountainous rainforest during the rainy season was arduous. Xiulote struggled through the soft, humus-rich soil underfoot, with no glimpse of the sky above and tangled roots beneath his feet, soaked through by the rain.


    However, such difficulties were nothing compared to those in the tropical rainforests of the northeast or southeast plains. The rainforest in the rainy season was a nightmare for large-scale military marches, with swamps, poisonous creatures, miasmas, and water sources all representing unavoidable deaths.


    After marching for two days, on the morning of the third day, they finally reached the ambush legion''s camp, a small plateau behind a hill.


    The camp was orderly and quiet, and Xiulote occasionally saw Jaguar Warriors wearing tiger head feathered helmets, donning yellow-patterned leather armor, and carrying shields and war clubs.


    Aweit led Xiulote into the central large tent, where the Commander-in-Chief that Xiulote had seen before was present, one of the commanders draped in a Sun Stone cloak, with the image of a war club behind him.


    "Casal," Aweit greeted the commander warmly, "How is the situation with the enemy?"


    Casal just nodded with a faint smile, "Twenty thousand, from Otapan. Five thousand are City-State Warriors, the other fifteen thousand are conscripted Village Warriors."


    "Only five thousand warriors? What good is so few men for reinforcement?"


    "This reinforcement is merely a gesture. They march very slowly, only covering about a dozen miles a day, and with scouts posted far out, they spend most of their time waiting for scout reports. Their resolve for battle is very questionable. I estimate that as soon as they see that the situation is unfavorable, they will retreat."


    "On their familiar terrain, fully-armed warriors certainly cannot catch these mountain folk," nodded Aweit, "So what''s your plan?"


    "We have eight thousand warriors. I plan to divide our forces into three groups and take the initiative to strike. Now that you''re here, I''ll entrust four thousand warriors to you to attract attention at the front. Once the battle begins, Balda will lead two thousand warriors in an attack from the left flank. And I will take five hundred Jaguar elites and fifteen hundred warriors to circle around and strike from the rear," Casal said, punctuating his words with a forceful punch of his fist.


    A robust warrior beside them smiled at Aweit; this was Balda, identifiable by the patterns on his helmet and leather armor, presumably a hereditary noble from the Eagle Warrior Group.


    Eight thousand against twenty thousand and still dividing their forces into three separate attacks at different times? Xiulote was full of questions, but seeing the confident expressions of the commanders in the tent, he temporarily put aside his doubts.


    Returning to their own tents, the warriors rested early, conserving their energy for the next day''s battle.


    Lying on an officer''s straw bed, the tips of the grass carried a natural scent, slightly prickly. This type of bed was already much more comfortable than the ground bedding of the common soldiers. Xiulote raised his concerns with Aweit.


    "The fighting strength of an army isn''t absolutely related to its numbers," Aweit replied with a light chuckle, "It depends on specific battle terrain and scenarios, as well as stamina consumption."


    "For example, a Jaguar Warrior, before exhausting his stamina, can easily take on three regular warriors or ten Village Warriors, especially on narrow terrain. But in siege battles, he counts as no more than an ordinary Village Warrior, because a single stone thrown by a Village Warrior can kill him."


    "And a Village stone-thrower, in close combat, is only worth half a Village Warrior. If given enough time to throw stones, he can be equivalent to a regular warrior. Once holding advantageous terrain, in mountain warfare or defending a city, he can inflict greater damage with his elevated position than even a Jaguar Warrior."


    "The ones worth paying attention to are the five thousand City-State Warriors on the other side. On a large open battlefield, the Village Warriors are mostly there to maintain the line or to deplete the enemy''s throwing spears and stones. Their crude stone and wooden spears limit the damage they can do to Armored Warriors, and their sparse shields and armor make them more vulnerable. Low morale makes them more likely to break."


    "Actually, it''s the warriors, only the warriors are the core of a city-state! Tomorrow''s battle won''t be difficult. It''s a good chance for you to see the world. Xiulote, sleep at ease~~"

 Chapter 18: First Battle

    Chapter 18: Chapter 18: First BattleThe midday sun fell from the clear sky, sweeping over the land and the shadows of the forest, removing the dew in the woods and meadows. Today was a good day, suitable for battle and martial prowess.


    Xiulote knew today was a good day too. In the Aztec calendar, today was the sixth day of the twenty days of the Sun Calendar month, symbolizing death, vitality, and vigor, represented by a skull. It was an auspicious day.


    Therefore, the commanders chose to strike today.


    At the auspicious moment, he stood with Aweit on top of a hill, accompanied by four thousand Samurais, quietly waiting for the enemy to appear.


    Aweit occupied the highlands, the commander''s battle flag planted at the highest point, surrounded by a thousand-Samurai battalion. The remaining three battalions were arrayed in a single line in front, positioned slightly lower. The Samurais sat on the hill, their shields and war clubs placed on the ground in front of them, conserving their energy to the greatest extent.


    In Xiulote''s view, the enemy''s flags appeared first, scattered scouts, followed by draft soldiers from the scattered villages, and then Samurais with Armor, carrying shields and war clubs, and finally groups of Militias wearing only tunics, wielding Stone Spears.


    The two sides discovered each other. The enemy commander was about four to five quarters away, deploying combat formations. The Samurais took up their shields and war clubs, five Otomi Warrior battalions gathered in the middle, three Militia battalions expanding on each flank, shielding the army''s wings, five Militia battalions arrayed in front, and four Militia battalions scattered at the rear.


    Xiulote observed the enemy''s formation changes, their battle strategy was to prioritize the protection of the Warrior battalions. They scattered the Militia battalions in four directions to withstand potential assaults and ranged attacks. The Warrior battalions were not placed on the front line to avoid being entangled by the enemy forces, making it difficult to retreat.


    In other words, the enemy''s core force was always ready to bolt. Xiulote was somewhat speechless.


    The two sides thus confronted each other from afar. The enemy''s scouts continuously spread out to investigate both flanks, while both commanders continuously assessed the strength and number of each other''s forces.


    Aweit''s four battalions occupied the hilltops, always maintaining a defensive posture.


    Xiulote could clearly sense the enemy commander''s hesitation. It must have been after assessing their opponent''s strength that they developed some confidence within their means.


    After a while, as the scouts from both flanks returned, confirming no enemy ambush within a certain distance, the enemy commander finally began the attack.


    From his high position, Xiulote watched the battlefield unobstructed below. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Otomi recalibrated their formation. Three Militia battalions on each flank began to advance and expand, two Warrior battalions respectively supplemented behind them, pressing the formation and acting as the backbone of the flanks. The central three Warrior battalions slightly expanded, following the five Militia battalions as they advanced together, the rear Militia battalions continued in a loose formation, shielding the army''s rear.


    The prelude to the war was slow, perhaps building up the energy for the impending burst.


    Soon, the two armies were just several hundred meters apart, confronting each other from the hills above and below. The Otomi Militias yelled loudly, intimidating their opponents, boosting their own morale, and also releasing the fear before the battle.


    This meaningless intimidation, the Samurais were used to seeing, and the four thousand Mexica Samurais on the hill still maintained their defensive posture, only rising with shields and clubs in hand, waiting for the coming assault.


    Two battalions of Otomi stone throwers advanced to the foot of the hill, beginning to throw stones uphill. The stones fell like raindrops, as powerless as raindrops. Stone throwing from below up couldn''t inflict significant harm on the Samurais in Leather Armor and Wooden Shields.


    The Mexica Samurais grew restless, facing these stone throwers who were like gifts to them, they developed a desire to charge and engage in melee. Aweit still ordered them to hold shields for defense, maintaining the formation. The defensive bugle then continued to sound atop the hill, suppressing the beasts inside the warriors.


    Seeing the stone throwers couldn''t disrupt the enemy''s formation, the Otomi commander ordered the stone throwers to retreat.


    The Otomi''s advantage lay in the massive numbers of Militias. To overcome the well-trained Mexica Samurais with Militias, they had to disrupt the Samurai formation, enveloping them in constant assault, continuously wearing down the Samurais'' stamina until they lost the speed and strength to wield their weapons.


    Only then could the Militias, with their rudimentary Stone Spears, fight a consumptive battle acceptable against the Samurais, akin to farmers besieging unmounted Light Armored Knights.


    The three battalions of Otomi Militia then charged uphill, howling as they rushed towards the Mexica Samurais'' shields and war clubs, only to be struck down before the war clubs, smashed, cut, broken, turning into warm corpses. This pressure was far from the limits of the Mexica Samurais, their casualties were minimal, only depleting their stamina, gradually pulling their formation towards both flanks.


    Three Militia battalions on each flank began to accelerate forward, attempting to encircle the Samurais, this encirclement serving more as harassment.


    Suddenly, the real force, two battalions of Otomi Warriors, pounced from the flanks, fiercely attacking the flank of two Mexica Samurai battalions.


    Only then did Aweit issue the command to attack, the drums of the offensive quickly resounding through the hills. The three thousand Mexica Samurais at the front burst out with a shout, the Samurais began to disregard their stamina, unleashing their most ferocious attacks. They no longer swung their shields but accelerated as their war clubs traced arcs, slicing through soft torsos, striking hard skulls.


    Their formation quickly pressed towards the enemy in front, the combat area rapidly expanding. The Samurais plunged into intense combat, which also meant the commander had already lost the ability to command them, at least until this battle was over.

 Chapter 19 - 18 The First Battle_2

    Chapter 19: Chapter 18 The First Battle_2The real battle had barely begun when the three militia battalions of Otomi in the very front couldn''t withstand the pressure of rapid casualties anymore and collapsed from the front, their organization reduced to zero. They had fulfilled their important mission as cannon fodder vanguards and were of no further use in this battle.


    The two battalions of Otomi warriors from the central army quickly pushed forward, brutally dispersing the militia to both sides with their shields, and then, without giving the Mexica warriors any more chance to recover their strength, they roared and charged at the opponents in front of them.


    At the same time, the militia at the rear also launched an assault and engaged in combat with the command battalion where Aweit was located, thereby restraining the last Mexica reserve force.


    Watching the enemy warriors close in from all directions, faces twisted, howling, the clash of shields and weapons echoed in his ears, and every so often, the crisp snap of breaking bones. Blood splattered, staining Xiulote''s feet, a sea of crimson before his eyes.


    Xiulote''s heart hammered violently, every second stretching out as long as a century. He couldn''t help but glance at Aweit, only to see a face both unfamiliar and familiar, firm and cold, watching the battle unfold with no expression.


    The entire hillside that could be used for combat was filled. In the front, there were four thousand Otomi warriors and two thousand militia, semi-encircling three Mexica warrior battalions, while at the rear, four Otomi militia battalions harassed and restrained Aweit''s command battalion.


    At this moment, the Otomi commander Jiowar still had one warrior battalion in reserve, two advanced cannon fodder slinger battalions, plus four ordinary cannon fodder militia battalions. He also sent additional forces to gather the recently dispersed three militia battalions.


    Jiowar''s eyes shone fiercely as he watched the battle ahead, looking for gaps in the formation, ready to deploy the last warrior battalion to completely tear apart the Mexica warriors'' defense line. An unconscious smile of victory crept onto his face.


    The smile had not yet fully formed when it suddenly froze. Two Mexica warrior battalions appeared out of nowhere on the outermost hill pack on the right flank, surging towards the center of the battlefield at high speed.


    Seeing the two approaching Mexica warrior battalions from afar, Xiulote at the center of the formation finally regained his composure. In reality, discounting the intimidation, the preliminary skirmishing with slings, and the actual hand-to-hand combat between warriors on both sides, it had lasted only half an hour; a full engagement merely a quarter hour.


    Now, the Otomi commander had a quarter hour to hesitate: either push the last warrior battalion, along with all the militia battalions, to meet the rapidly approaching two thousand Mexica warriors, hoping that the warriors on the hill could break through the defense line first.


    Or retreat immediately, leave the militia to the Mexica, and let as many warriors escape as possible from the hill, heading into the familiar mountain forests to safety.


    Jiowar made his choice swiftly. The first option was to bet all the chips for victory, the second was to accept losing at least half. Glancing at the hilltop, where a gradually emerging advantage could be seen, he hesitated for a moment, then clenched his teeth, fought to suppress the ominous premonition in his heart, and ordered the four militia battalions to attack forward, temporarily holding off the Mexica reinforcements.


    Wearing the majestic eagle warrior outfit, Balda led the two Mexica warrior battalions like a hurricane, charging directly into the center of the four thousand militia, embroiling themselves in the most intense close combat.


    The militia howled as they charged, thrusting their long spears, glancing off the leather armor and shields, then falling, shattered by the war club''s blows, like waves scattering on the shore.


    Their morale melted away like ice and snow. Yet, the high-flying commander''s banner in the back and the approaching one thousand reserve warriors still maintained the baseline of their morale.


    The situation was at a stalemate for the time being, but Aweit at the top of the hill revealed a genuine smile. Even as the fierce combat and bloodshed roared around him, he turned and tossed a joke Xiulote''s way, "The fish has finally taken the bait."


    The melee continued for another quarter hour, the Mexica warriors in the front had been pushed so hard they were squeezed together with the command battalion. The war clubs'' strikes were exhausting too much strength, and the warriors on the hill started to use their shields more defensively.


    The stamina of the warriors on both sides hadn''t reached their limits yet, and they were far from massive casualties. Out of the eight thousand engaged warriors, at this point, only about three to four hundred on each side had lost their combat ability.


    But when Casal''s five hundred Jaguar warriors and one thousand five hundred warriors appeared on the left rear side of the battlefield, dark clouds obscured all the sunlight in Jiowar''s heart, and the Otomi commander almost instantly lost all will to fight.


    The familiar Jaguar Beast Helmet was the nightmare of all city-state warriors, a terror of the Otomi people''s tales through generations. Although Jiowar didn''t believe in stories, he was acutely aware of the fearsome combat ability of the Jaguar warriors on the frontline.


    The urgent sound of the retreat bugle resounded across the battlefield as the semi-engaged Otomi command battalion rapidly disengaged from the fight. Jiowar issued his last pointless command, ordering the two slinger battalions to hold off the incoming Jaguar warriors.


    Immediately, he abandoned the embattled militia and the still-fighting warriors and fled towards the forest to the right rear.


    Casal sent a thousand Mexica warriors to chase Jiowar. Then he detached another five hundred to ambush the Otomi militia currently engaged with Balda from behind.


    As for himself, he led the Jaguar warriors straight towards the biggest catch, the four thousand Otomi warriors fighting fiercely on the mountaintop.


    The retreat signal reached the summit. The first to react were the four thousand Otomi militia tasked with restraining Aweit behind the hills.


    Without the warriors to support them, these seemingly simple mountain folk already had a reserve of strength. Seeing the Jaguar warriors charging over from a distance, they knew things were not looking good and immediately scattered towards the distant forest.


    Aweit''s command camp had just been freed from the battle. He did not concern himself with the militia but immediately divided his command into two groups, engaging deeper into the Otomi warriors from both sides.


    Xiulote thus settled down completely and began to carefully observe the battlefield.


    It was only then that the Otomi warriors at the summit realized the situation was dire. Under the leadership of the hereditary nobility, they struggled to withdraw from the fight while trying hard to maintain order. The warriors at the front fought even more fiercely, while those at the back began to disperse.


    When swarms of Jaguar warriors charged into the rear of the Otomi battle group, like a stone thrown into a lake, they immediately pressed out an inward ripple among the crowd, and as the ripple spread, the crowd scattered like splashed water.


    The remaining two thousand Otomi militia on the summit completely collapsed. Shouting in panic, they turned their backs to the enemy and fled, only to be mown down like stalks of corn.


    The real casualties began.


    With the Jaguar warriors'' stabbing charge and the skilled whirl of the war clubs, striking like fierce storms on Otomi shields, leather armor, backs, and legs, the warriors fell prostrate to the ground.


    Squeezed from both sides, the Otomi warriors lost their formation quickly, and the army''s morale plummeted rapidly. The Jaguar warriors intimidated them with war cries while striking with physical force, and within a quarter of an hour, a great rout ensued.


    From this moment on, every minute saw ten times as many Otomi warriors fall as before.


    The Otomi warriors at the front line entered their final frenzy, then quickly exhausted their strength amidst the siege and were knocked unconscious by the wooden sides of the warriors'' war clubs.


    The Otomi warriors on the flanks and sides threw down their heavy obsidian clubs and scattered from the pincers towards the distant forest, struggling for their last breath of life.


    Feeling the swift weakening of resistance, the Mexica warriors on the summit finally let out victorious shouts. They began to show mercy, using the blunt angles and sides of the war clubs to strike at the legs and backs of the Otomis, disabling their ability to move. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At this point, the head-on battle ended, and the Mexica began to pursue the opponent, easily capturing the enemy like catching turkeys. The great capture commenced.


    Standing atop the hill, smelling the thick scent of blood that couldn''t dissipate in the air, watching the Otomi''s frantic fleeing, listening to the passionate cheers of the Mexica warriors, Xiulote felt a surreal sense of unreality.


    A quarter of an hour before, the Otomi were struggling in their dying throes, half an hour before, he was being besieged by the enemy, an hour before, the situation was turning against them, and two hours before, the battle had just begun.


    "Is this what war is?" Xiulote asked, looking at Aweit.


    "This is not war," Aweit finally revealed a genuine smile, "This is only the beginning!"

 Chapter 20 - 19 Funeral

    Chapter 20: Chapter 19 FuneralThe setting sun faded into the West, returning to the end of the Divine Kingdom. The rosy glow of the sky also vanished, just like the dissipating breath of life.


    Then darkness approached, swallowing the crimson earth, burying all cruelty, marking the end of the hunt.


    Scattered bonfires ignited beneath the hills. The Samurai counted their spoils of war, while Aweit and Casal discussed the casualties from the recent battle.


    The fight had taken the lives of over three hundred Mexica Samurai and injured over seven hundred. The majority of casualties occurred during the phase when they were besieged on the mountaintop, especially on the semi-encircled flank of the Samurai. Balda''s assault squad suffered minimal losses, and Casal''s Jaguar warriors had not lost a single life.


    The more elite the unit, the more cautiously they were used, often only in decisive strikes, while avoiding protracted battle as much as possible.


    The Otomi people suffered heavy losses. Prior to the great rout, roughly three to four hundred warriors were lost, and during the dispersal, troops on the mountain were annihilated in groups, resulting in fifteen to sixteen hundred dead and injured within half an hour. The subsequent hunt captured seven to eight hundred more.


    Of the warriors at the mountaintop, only slightly over a thousand managed to escape, their ranks completely decimated, their formation irreparably broken. Even if those who fled were lucky enough to return to Otapan City, it would take several months of rest for them to recover any fighting capacity.


    Jiowar still managed to flee, leading the very last battalion of warriors. In the forests local to the Otomi people, once they slipped away into the woods, it was like mice scurrying back into their burrows, vanishing without a trace.


    The statistics on the Militia were even more roughly estimated. On the mountaintop, the Otomi Militia trapped with the Samurai bore the brunt of the carnage, nearly half of them falling. The Militia engaged by Balda also suffered significant losses. The four thousand Militia who had circled around to contain the enemy managed to escape quickly, sustaining minimal losses. As for the last two slinger battalions, these seasoned Hunters only hastily launched two inaccurate volleys of stones before retreating into the forest ahead of the Jaguar warriors'' charge.


    Overall, the Militia lost just over two thousand men and saw another two thousand captured. However, it''s likely that the scattered Militia simply fled directly back to their homes, no longer participating in the subsequent war.


    "The weakest in combat, the Militia, always incur the smallest losses in every battle, never exceeding thirty percent. Xiulote, do you know why?" Aweit asked with twinkling eyes.


    "Is it because every time, they break and flee after losing twenty percent?" Xiulote guessed with a smile.


    "You''re correct. But there''s another reason," Avini laughed. "They carry the least gear, so no one can catch up when they run."


    "Haha," Xiulote laughed. On the American Continent without Cavalry, the Militia did have this advantage, much like the Japanese foot soldiers, easy to flee.


    Xiulote soon found it difficult to laugh. The bodies of over three hundred Mexica Samurai were neatly laid out in a freshly dug large pit. He looked at their frozen expressions, many of whom he had only met yesterday, today they lay companions with the yellow soil. Life was so unpredictable, stirring deep emotions within him.


    The remainder of the warriors were even more moved, having spent days and nights together, now abruptly parted. Since the battle was won, a funeral was needed to console the living.


    In the Theocratic Era, Priests enjoyed supreme authority but also carried the burden of being the bridge between humans and gods. It was their unavoidable duty to conduct rites for Heaven and Earth, pray for good harvests, and guide the deceased.


    The Samurai looked to Xiulote expectantly, and Aweit gave him an encouraging smile with a wink. Xiulote sighed deeply.


    The young man then recalled the rituals taught by his grandfather, donned a long Feather Crown, draped himself in a black Tengu Costume, raised the Divine Staff, built an altar on the hills, and then ignited a raging bonfire.


    The name Xiulotel, symbolizing death and rebirth, was fittingly congruent with the current time.


    The warriors positioned themselves below the altar. The mournful sound of drums began to play, paired with the yearning notes of flutes, giving rise to a nocturnal elegy.


    "The earth trembled, the Mexica people began to sing." A young figure danced on the altar, his clear voice shouting, beseeching the gods for a response, guiding the souls of the departed.


    Below the altar, thousands of warriors stripped off their shirts, commencing a frenzied dance, the warriors'' dance. Then, the flickering bonfire shone, trembling and shaking the ground.


    This was the dance.


    "He made the Jaguar join him in his dance,


    To witness the ebb and flow, the resting of life.


    He stood atop the wings of the Divine Eagle, shouting,


    Weep, Mexica people!


    The battlefield is thus,


    The place where we honor the gods with Holy Blood!


    "


    The warriors'' steps grew more urgent, the sound of drums like rain, accompanied by the cries of the Jaguar and the Divine Eagle, as if they emerged from an ancient Wilderness.


    In their footsteps, the Jaguar warriors quietly departed and returned with the agonized moans of many injured, a thousand captives with hindered movement, laid out around the edge of the large pit.


    This was the preparation.


    "The Divine Eagle stained red with blood,


    The Jaguar roars in the face of death.


    War Armor shattered,


    Long crowns discarded.


    Precious gemstones like rain fell,


    Vibrant Feathers ablaze.


    Samurai''s bodies broken,


    Lost in the blood,


    Returned to the dust.


    "


    The warriors danced forgetfully, the earth-shaking drumbeats and footsteps masking the moans of life''s departure. Warm fluids poured forth, submerging the bodies of the fallen in the pit, fulfilling the sacred words of the prayer.


    This was the sacrifice.


    "In the world, nothing is sacred,


    like death on the battlefield,


    as brilliant as the blooming of flowers!


    We repay the Chief Divine who bestowed life,


    with the vitality that has passed:


    Huitzilopochtli,


    Huitzilopochtli!


    Huitzilopochtli!!!


    " sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The samurai halted their steps, prostrated on the warm earth, and called out the name of the Guardian God in unison. Thus, they did so thrice.


    This was the calling of the gods.


    "City of the Gods,


    Teotihuacan,


    is also the Tomb of the Gods,


    a bridge that connects life and death.


    My heart longs for it,


    yet it is beyond my reach.


    In this place the departed awaken,


    in this place the departed rise,


    in this place the departed live,


    in this place the departed find peace.


    This is the Chief Divine''s promise,


    and we pray for the departed.


    The god has arrived!


    "


    The warriors beneath the divine altar suddenly burst into a clamor, praying loudly, shouting the names of the departed, speaking their last farewells, and then, suddenly, silence.


    This was farewell.


    "The god has arrived!


    Escorting the souls of the departed,


    to the red kingdom.


    And then the god said:


    You have awakened.


    Behold the red sky,


    behold the red dawn,


    behold the red curassow,


    behold the red swift.


    The butterflies have flown.


    "


    Above and below the platform, there was silence. The warriors buried all traces. Only the distant sound of the drum and the blessed ocarina remained.


    This was rebirth.


    Xiulote extinguished the bonfire, and the sky to the East gradually revealed the first glimmers of dawn.


    The warriors gazed at the distant Morning Star, which was the sustenance of their spirit. In this era, the souls of people dwelled above the Nine Heavens, below the Nine Netherworlds, and not among the living.


    Subsequently, one after another, the samurai climbed the hill, cut a lock of their hair, and placed it beside Xiulote.


    Xiulote looked on in surprise at these samurai. He knew that this was a high honor, signifying the samurai''s allegiance and their willingness to fight for him.


    The funeral was over, and dawn had arrived.

 Chapter 21 - 20 Loyalty

    Chapter 21: Chapter 20 LoyaltyThe sun shone upon the earth once more. The earth was not much different from yesterday, except for a few extinguished campfires and shallow mounds. Traces of death had been buried underground, and the living continued their conquest.


    After consuming a breakfast of corn cakes and black beans, the samurai shouldered their shields and war clubs.


    The belongings of the warriors from both sides were collected. Many Otomi samurai had perished, leaving behind much of their gear on the battlefield.


    The surplus weapons were carried by the samurai. Then the extra leather armor was given to the one hundred-plus Otomi militia to carry. These fortunate ones were promised their freedom as long as they delivered the equipment back to the Mexica camp.


    By their side marched the escorting Jaguar warriors, gripping their throwing spears, ever vigilant of the captives'' movements,


    In an era of extremely scarce productivity, every piece of leather armor, every obsidian club, was precious. Damaged equipment was not carelessly discarded but was taken back to camp for repair.


    The legion had captured a total of three thousand Otomi prisoners, a thousand warriors, and two thousand militia. The Mexica warriors brought out the prepared sisal ropes and tied the prisoners'' hands together, forming chains of twenty, and escorted them in the middle of the troop.


    The captives had to endure a long journey, crossing mountains, forests, rivers, and lakes, until finally reaching the capital city of the empire, waiting for everything to end.


    The army packed up, ready to set out soon, S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At this moment, over a hundred samurai spontaneously gathered in front of Xiulote. They knelt on one knee, bowing their heads in respect to Xiulote. These were the men he had seen before, who had offered up their hair at the end of yesterday''s sacrificial rites.


    Leading them was a middle-aged man, his face bearing the marks of time, his expression serene. He wore yellow-patterned war armor and a feathered beast helmet, his broad frame, thick fingers, and arms adorned with red-patterned armlets. He was, in fact, a seasoned Fourth Level warrior, qualified to join the ranks of the Eagle and Jaguar Warrior Brigades, merely a step away from becoming a First Level military noble.


    The man approached Xiulote, knelt again on one knee, and deeply bowed his head. Xiulote, acting on instinct, mimicked his grandfather''s gestures, and placed his hand on the warrior''s head.


    "Under the witness of our Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, the sacred, victorious, merciful coyote priest. I, Bertade, a warrior from Tenochtitlan, am willing to protect you, to fight for you, until my last drop of blood is shed."


    The sudden pledge left the young man somewhat at a loss.


    Xiulote stood for a while, gathering his thoughts, before asking, "Bertade, may I ask you a question?"


    "I am at your will, to speak without reserve."


    "We''ve only known each other for two days; why would you pledge loyalty to me? Is it because of last night''s sacrificial rite?"


    "I am grateful for your merciful guidance of my brother''s spirit to the land of the dead."


    "I see... Is there any other reason?"


    "Under your leadership, we achieved victory yesterday."


    "Hmm... is that so," Xiulote was unsure how to respond; yesterday, he had merely stood on the mountaintop as an observer, a priest watching the beginning, progression, intensity, climax, and end of the battle.


    "Furthermore, you are born sacred, coming into this world shortly after the great Montezuma I passed away." Bertade then lifted his head, his calm face showing a hint of excitement, his voice deepening, and in the end so low that only the two could hear. "I remember that night, late stars illuminating the sky, death bringing rebirth."


    Xiulote was startled. He remembered the discussion in Teotihuacan with the king and his grandfather about Montezuma I and the late stars, confirming that his birth was blessed by the Tengu Xiulotel. Then he had been bestowed with Tengu Ritual Attire and taken away by the king. Not long ago, the king had also inquired about his understanding of the sun and earth.


    All these moments flashed through his mind like lightning, culminating in Aweit''s meaningful smile: "You have passed the test."


    Xiulote fell silent for a moment, his body tensing. Within the youth''s body was not truly a youth. For the first time, his face carried a depth of seriousness.


    So, in a low voice, he replied: "Then, Bertade, are you willing to walk the path with the reborn sun?"


    Watching the changes in the youth''s expression, excitement spread across Bertade''s face. "I am willing."


    "Regardless of what lies ahead?"


    "No matter what lies ahead!"


    "Until when?"


    "Until the days of old fall away and the reborn sun reigns the sky!" Bertade''s face was fervent, "And Montezuma reclaims the throne!"


    The intense exchange was both secretive and swift. After completing the pledge of loyalty, Bertade regained his composure, stood up quietly, and retreated.


    Next, over a hundred samurai paid their respects to Xiulote in turn, pledging their loyalty and vowing to follow him.


    Most of the samurai were friends and relatives of those who had died in battle, and they expressed their gratitude to him for yesterday''s funeral. Another part believed that as a priest, he was blessed by the gods, which had brought victory in the war. No one mentioned his astrological birth conditions anymore.


    Perhaps they didn''t know, or perhaps, it was just buried in their hearts.


    Soon the army set out, embarking on the journey back to the siege camp of Xilotepec City. The road home would take several days, as the large force had to traverse mountains and forests, and it was destined to be more difficult than the journey there. Especially for the captives.


    The samurai escorted the captives, forming a long line through the mountains. Aweit was always at the front of the column, discussing the transport of the captives and the handling of the spoils with the commanders.


    Xiulote walked in the back, chatting idly with the first group of samurai who had followed him.


    He found that the samurai who followed him were dressed and adorned simply, most coming from ordinary civilian families. It wasn''t easy for them to be promoted. Although they were skilled in martial arts and excel at combat, they could at most reach the fourth level as seasoned warriors.


    To advance to the next level and become a first-level military noble, with land privileges in the city-state, was extremely difficult. Luck, strength, and background were indispensable.


    In other words, the samurai''s spontaneous decision to follow him was partially due to faith and emotion. On the other hand, it was a longing in their hearts for a better future.


    Xiulote had a new understanding: that faith and reality, parallel and equally important, were the foundation of loyalty.


    And talking with experienced warriors was actually quite interesting.


    Xiulote listened to the samurai talk about life in the city-state, such as the popular ball game that swept through the city-state. Players scrambled for a rubber ball in a rectangular and flat field and then tried to throw it into the high goal on the wall, similar to playing squash. Usually, the losers became slaves, while the winners gained wealth and honor.


    On sacrificial days, the losers of the game would become sacrifices in the ceremonies. This was the infamous "human sacrifice ball court."


    There were also mirrors ground out of obsidian, which were as reflective as a water surface to show one''s face and were expensively priced, especially popular among the nobility.


    And there was the cochineal, a tiny red insect that parasitized on cacti, secreting white hairs as fine as dust, surviving by sucking the juice of cacti, and growing into a plump round shape.


    If the adult insects were ground into a paste, it resulted in the most beautiful rouge color. This top-grade dye was exceptionally precious and used on the most exquisite robes.


    Xiulote also heard about the Capital of Tarasco, Qinchongcan, a city built atop a copper mine. Qinchongcan tightly restricted the outflow of copper mines within the city-state and controlled the sale of copper ware as well.


    The people there not only made sturdy copper daggers, long spears, and axes, but they also made copper helmets and shin guards. It seemed that the Tarasco had mastered the method of making bronze and had begun to make copper armor.


    "Actually, copper mines exist not only in Qinchongcan, where the Tarasco strictly control them." Bertade, who had been quiet, suddenly interjected, "As a scout, I once followed the Balsas River settled by the Qiongtar people downstream, passed through the highland forests, and traveled west for a month, deep into the southern lands of the Tarasco, in the Weytamo region."


    Xiulote perked up, hearing new information about metal mines.


    "There, the mountains rise and fall, and the forests are lush, with many Tarasco city-states that have a strong sense of autonomy. These city-states also use copper ware, and the copper blocks mostly come from the mountains. There are many bare rock hills where no grass grows. The rock surfaces have golden streaks, some resembling gold threads that twinkle and shine in the sunlight."


    "Large porphyry copper mines can be mined in the open air. And they are not tightly controlled by the Tarasco people," Xiulote quickly grabbed the three key points.


    "Respected priest," Bertade suddenly said very formally, saluting Xiulote for the first time, "Copper equipment is hard and durable and will be of great help to your future. With copper long spears, even a militiaman could threaten a warrior."


    "Once this war is over, I am willing to infiltrate the southern Tarasco for you and purchase this important ore from local village domains."


    Xiulote, watching Bertade''s serious and thoughtful expression as he explained the importance of copper ware, initially wanted to smile. But as he heard him willing to risk great dangers to infiltrate Tarasco territory for the source of the ore, he was somewhat moved.


    He then nodded vigorously, stood on tiptoe, and patted Bertade''s shoulder.


    The samurai continued to march forward, chatting and laughing, until the sun was faintly setting, and a cloud of darkness came from the distance.


    It was then that Aweit appeared. He came with a smile and then paused for a moment. His eyes narrowed as he carefully regarded Bertade, guarding Xiulote''s side, who seemed calm and worldly.


    Then he looked at the hundred or more samurai crowding behind Xiulote.


    Finally, he looked at Xiulote, who was also smiling, and said with a grin, "It seems that on this expedition, you''ve gained quite a lot."

 Chapter 22 - 21: Human Heart

    Chapter 22: Chapter 21: Human HeartXiulote and Aweit stood side by side on the hilltop. Neither spoke, simply watching the sun fully set and night slowly descend. Even though they had been apart for only a day, they suddenly felt much more distant from each other.


    There was no moon tonight. Dark clouds had already obscured the sky.


    "It''s going to rain," Xiulote said.


    "Yes. Tomorrow''s journey won''t be easy," Aweit replied with a smile.


    "Yesterday''s battle was a great victory," Xiulote stated, "What do you think the king will reward you with when we return?"


    "Fighting with the Otomi people, where''s the great victory in that?" Aweit chuckled. "Besides, the main credit for the battle belongs to Casal''s decisive attack, followed by Balda''s support. I was just watching from the hilltop."


    Xiulote paused, then hesitantly asked, "But wasn''t your steadfast defense the most arduous task? And don''t you want to claim any military merit?"


    Seeing the simple, puzzled expression on the young man''s face, Aweit finally burst out laughing. "Xiulote, what use is military merit?"


    "To receive the king''s reward? To attain a higher position?" Xiulote guessed after a moment''s thought.


    "What meaning do these hold for me?" Aweit countered.


    Xiulote thought for a moment. Aweit was the king''s brother, and until recently had been in charge of the royal family''s intelligence and security. In TV shows, such characters seemed to always bide their time.


    "Then what is meaningful?" Xiulote asked.


    Aweit did not answer directly but instead asked, "Why did over a hundred samurai follow you today?" S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "They seem to be relatives of the deceased, and last night I presided over the funeral to guide the souls of the dead," Xiulote answered cautiously.


    "Hmm, did you earn any military merit yesterday?"


    "No." After a moment''s hesitation, Xiulote faced the truth.


    "So, what is power?" Aweit continued to ask.


    "What is power," Xiulote mulled over the question. As someone with memories of the past, he did not believe in bloodline or theocracy.


    "An esteemed position?" Xiulote thought of King Tizoc.


    Aweit just smiled and said nothing.


    Xiulote continued to wrack his brain, thinking of memories from different eras. Suddenly, a phrase he had learned in class flashed into his mind: "Power comes from the people!"


    Aweit was taken aback and stared at Xiulote for a while before slowly nodding, "You are right, power comes from the hearts of the people. You indeed possess inherent wisdom."


    "What is the heart of the people?" Aweit asked seriously, looking at Xiulote.


    "The actions that make people revere," Xiulote recalled this era''s daily rituals performed by his grandfather and the king, the funeral held for the deceased warriors yesterday, and the ceremonies held in the name of the gods. He finally thought of the "rites and music" of the Zhou Dynasty.


    "The actions that bring benefits to people." Xiulote recalled the cheer of the samurai during yesterday''s great victory, remembered the importance of productivity, and thought of the power of wealth from his memories.


    "Long-lasting customs." Xiulote thought of the historical inertia, the long theocratic era in Central America, extending to the Warring States Zhou Dynasty, and the millennia-old religion.


    "Anything else?"


    There must be something more. Xiulote pondered all his memories. The heart of the people, which is rule, the legitimacy of rule, the source of legitimacy. However, an inexplicable force had blurred his past memories, preventing him from thinking further.


    Perhaps, time would tell him everything.


    "I don''t know." Xiulote ceased struggling and instead waited expectantly for Aweit''s response.


    However, Aweit did not continue the earlier conversation, nor did he suddenly pick up a wooden stick to hit Xiulote''s head hard and ask, "Have you realized it yet?"


    He was just quietly observing the night sky.


    Xiulote also gazed at the night sky, filled with countless stars. On a summer night in Central America, amidst a Middle Ages'' bonfire, the Milky Way was so brilliant, and the universe so vast.


    A thousand years is but an instant to the starry sky. Could the rise and fall of human affairs truly influence the changes in the heavens?


    Xiulote was watching the Ziwei Star in the north, which resided at the center of the northern sky, so bright and eye-catching, as if it carried innate authority. He seemed to hear a voice saying, "Grasp the hearts of the people, and you will grasp this nation."


    A gust of wind blew, bringing a light rain that dampened both their Feather Crowns.


    "It''s starting to rain, let''s go back."


    Aweit turned and walked towards the camp.


    The night passed without words.


    In the days that quickly passed, the rainy season of June began to heat up. The relentless rain made the forest even more difficult to navigate. A new path emerged in the forest, lined with fallen Otomi captives'' bodies, stretching to the gates of Xilotepec City. Soon, the vegetation would cover the path and along with it, the lives returning to the earth.


    The Mexica Samurai were initially excited by their victory, but their spirits were soon dampened by the endless rain and dense forest. Thankfully, the road was not long. Soon, Xilotepec City appeared before them.


    If they had to march to Otapan afterwards, such a journey would extend over half a month. Xiulote frowned at the thought, considering it a disaster.


    Casal led the procession. Today, he wore his official Sun Stone cloak and a splendidly crafted Feather Crown. Behind him marched flag bearers with various banners, followed by the Nobility of the Jaguar, escorting over two thousand five hundred Otomi captives.


    Casal''s usually stoic face bore a smile, and alongside him, Balda wore the formal attire of the Eagle Nobility, striding with proud satisfaction.


    As the victorious procession approached the western gate of Xilotepec City with the captives, idle warriors from various states also passionately cheered and howled.


    Xiulote finally saw the troops from Teotihuacan, his father looking vigorous, accompanied by Olosh and a familiar group of samurai coming to watch the spectacle.


    After nearly two months, father and son were reunited at last. Xiuxoke strode forward and embraced Xiulote tightly in his arms. It seemed they had a thousand words to share, yet neither knew how to start.


    Olosh came over, happily slapping Xiulote hard on the shoulder, "Hey, Xiulote, haven''t seen you for a while, kid. You seem much matured."


    Seeing Olosh''s casual gesture, Bertade, who had been following Xiulote closely, frowned and stepped forward, slightly shielding Xiulote. The two Jaguar-ranked Samurai exchanged glances, sizing each other up, their eyes gleaming with a fiery combat spirit.


    Xiulote quickly introduced the two parties. Upon hearing that Olosh was his Martial Arts teacher, Bertade stepped back and slightly bowed to the Jaguar in apology.


    And upon hearing that Bertade was Xiulote''s follower, Xiuxoke and Olosh exchanged surprised glances, their astonishment evident.


    Subsequently, father and son eagerly shared their experiences. They hadn''t talked long before Xiulote saw Aweit standing not far away, smiling warmly at them.


    Xiulote hurriedly introduced, "This is Ahuizotl Zotl, the King''s brother, my best friend."


    Upon hearing this, a satisfied curve appeared on Aweit''s handsome face, then he looked at Xiuxoke with a smirk-like smile.


    Xiuxoke''s expression tensed, a hint of unresolved concern crossing his resolute face. Clearly, he had already heard of Aweit.


    The two exchanged greetings.


    "Respected Commander Xiuxoke, you indeed have sired a son of natural intelligence," Aweit sincerely exclaimed with a smile.


    "Not at all. Xiulote has always been slow, ignorant of common affairs. Natural intelligence is just a rumor; at best, he is somewhat proficient with numbers," Xiuxoke explained somewhat nervously.


    "The King is already waiting for the victorious corps. We must be going now," Aweit said with another smile, then turned to leave.


    Xiulote could only follow.


    Before leaving, his father tightly grasped his hand and mouthed, "Be careful!"

 Chapter 23 - 22 Knocking

    Chapter 23: Chapter 22 KnockingThe team transporting the captives swaggered past the west gate of Xilotepec City, then circled half around the city from the south gate, finally heading to the camp of the direct legion outside the east gate.


    Along the way, the cheers of the Mexico City-State warriors startled the entire Xilotepec City. Xiulote saw many priests in feather crowns and capes and elegantly dressed nobility climb onto the city walls, hastily observing the captives among the Mexica troops.


    Casal had the flags of the Otapan City-State reinforcements thrown at each city gate, then had the nobles captured from the Otomi people shout from below the walls, recounting the failure of the reinforcements.


    The noise of the defending army on the city walls grew restless, and the number of guards on the walls increased. Xiulote could clearly feel that the morale of Xilotepec City was rapidly decreasing after the hope for reinforcements was lost.


    As Casal displayed the prisoners of war while proceeding slowly, he had already sent messengers to inform the king of the victorious return. Arriving at the east gate camp in full regalia, amidst light rain, he did not meet the king''s eagerly welcoming envoy; even more absent was the highly anticipated welcome of the king himself.


    In that moment, Xiulote saw a flash of anger pass over Casal''s face. The Mexica military nobility accompanying him also seemed somewhat dissatisfied.


    The king disregards the warriors, thus the hearts of the warriors waver. Xiulote thought.


    Casal handed over the captives and then dissolved the expeditionary legion. After a great battle, the warriors needed to repair their damaged leather armor and replace the obsidian shards on their war clubs. Afterwards, Xiulote followed the group of officers led by Casal into the king''s great tent.


    The king was sitting on a high platform, wearing an official obsidian feather crown, draped in a gold-embroidered sun garment, with a carmine cape behind him, carefully pondering an ancient wood tablet in his hands. Xiulote couldn''t see the drawings on the tablet, but such tablets were usually used to record mythological stories.


    Next to the king was a man dressed in military attire, with a stern countenance and cropped hair¡ªthe supreme commander Totec.


    Totec swept a similarly stern gaze over them, and the officers all bowed their heads, paying their respects to the king and the supreme commander on the platform. Xiulote followed suit in the greeting, avoiding eye contact with Totec.


    Tizoc raised his head, put down the wood tablet, and looked at the returning officers, nodding with satisfaction.


    "This battle was well fought. Many prisoners were captured," Tizoc said without inquiring about the details of the battle and casualties, but instead turned to Totec and said, "Arrange for the prisoners to be sent back to the capital as soon as possible, and hand them over to the Chief Priest of the Great Temple of Tenochtitlan."


    Then, Tizoc added a few words to the officers, acknowledging everyone''s fearless fight under divine protection. Then he shifted the conversation, asking, "Now let''s determine the order of merit for this ambush."


    Upon hearing this, Casal was about to step forward to reply but was stopped by Tizoc with a gentle wave of his hand. Then Tizoc beckoned slightly towards Xiulote.


    "Come, Xiulote, you speak. Those watching from the sidelines always have a clearer view."


    "Me?" Xiulote expressed surprise, then felt an immense pressure as all the officers in front of him turned to look at him. Casal and Balda watched him menacingly, Aweit smiled naturally, and Totec''s gaze was as sharp as a knife. Then there was the king''s expressionless face.


    After a moment''s thought, recalling the conversation with Aweit from the day before, Xiulote stammered his reply, "The greatest merit lies in Casal''s decisive attack, followed by Balda''s support. I was only watching the battle from the mountaintop; I did not make any significant contributions."


    Casal and Balda showed satisfied smiles on their faces, and Aweit blinked rapidly to express approval. Tizoc first raised his eyebrows slightly, seemingly surprised, and only after hearing the end did he chuckle, "The last sentence is unnecessary; everyone knows you were only there to watch."


    After speaking, the generals laughed heartily, and the atmosphere became harmonious again. Tizoc then asked Casal, "Casal, do you have anything to say?"


    Casal stood proudly and declared, "Blessed by the Sun God, we won this battle because I led the Jaguar warriors in a decisive assault that instantly crushed the Otomi warrior troop. Of course, Balda''s assault was also strong and effective; the Otomi fell like turkeys, unable to resist. Finally, there was Aweit''s steadfast defense, which drew the enemy''s front-line attention, providing conditions for our assault."


    Balda also patted his robust chest vigorously in agreement.


    "Good," Tizoc looked at Aweit, who still smiled as usual, and said, "Then, according to this order, rewards of Chinampa, feathered garments, cotton cloth, and slaves will be given to the three commanders. The Jaguar warriors will also receive their rewards. Common warriors are promoted."


    The details of the rewards were then discussed.


    Afterward, Tizoc looked at Aweit''s face and said with a smile, "My dear brother, your steadfastness in this battle has been meritorious. And for over a month now, you have done well in teaching Xiulote. What additional reward would you like? Would you like to continue with intelligence and guard duties?"


    Aweit''s expression turned serious as he sincerely advised, "The work of intelligence and guards concerns the safety of the Sun God''s descendants, traditionally determined by the king himself. Whomever you use reflects your will, unrelated to gains or losses, so how can it be considered a reward? In this battle, I merely stood on the hilltop; in the end, I didn''t achieve much. As for Xiulote, I am not his teacher; I simply treat him as a friend and junior, sharing with him some life experiences."


    Hearing Aweit''s advice, the Chief Commander Totec nodded in agreement.


    Tizoc smiled and nodded noncommittally. Xiulote faintly sensed a hint of danger; he was now gaining a deeper understanding of politics.


    In Central America, where there was no strict system of genealogical succession, sometimes it was brothers who inherited the throne, other times it was the offspring, and significant priests from the royal family also possessed the right to succession.


    The human heart does not have a fixed bias and can easily compromise with the victors of political struggles. Every transfer of the throne was accompanied by a brutal storm of blood and violence.


    Tizoc had recently ascended the throne, and his prestige was not yet fully established. One of his eyes was on the control of hearts through divine power, while the other closely watched all potential threats. Even his own brother, or even just a boy.


    Xiulote was still trying hard to think when, unexpectedly, his eyes were already on him.


    "Xiulote, what are you thinking," he asked, "do you want Aweit to continue teaching you?"


    "Uh? Yes. Aweit is a good person and kind to me," Xiulote honestly replied.


    "Oh. Since that''s the case, then Aweit, you can continue to teach Xiulote."


    Seeing Xiulote''s naive reaction, Tizoc smiled faintly, then seemingly inadvertently asked, "Xiulote, I heard that after this battle, more than a hundred warriors have decided to follow you?"


    Instant alarm bells went off in Xiulote''s heart. He nodded, "Yes." S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And why do these warriors want to follow you?"


    "It must be because I presided over the post-battle funerals and helped guide the spirits of those who died in battle. Some also believe that the victory in the battle had something to do with me."


    "Hmm. Teotihuacan is the Tomb of the Gods, a bridge between life and death, and it''s also your birthplace. So, Xiulote, tell me, can you really communicate between life and death, connect with the souls of the departed?" Tizoc''s piercing gaze rested on Xiulote''s face.


    As a theologian, Tizoc should not doubt a priest''s ability to communicate with the gods. Xiulote quickly weighed his options; if he answered "no," then the prior funeral would only be seen as a meaningless formality. That answer would undoubtedly be spread, and the newly gained support from the warriors would immediately dissipate.


    If he answered "yes," he would likely face further questioning by the king and possibly increase the king''s suspicion and apprehension. If this were to be linked to astronomy...


    Xiulote glanced out of the corner of his eye at Totec, tall, stern, with shoulders broad and hair cropped, who also fixed a daunting gaze on him.


    Since neither "yes" nor "no" was good, Xiulote could only respond helplessly, "I do not know."


    "You do not know?" Tizoc''s eyebrows knitted together, his tone one of surprise and seriousness.


    "Yes. When the funerals were held, I could not directly see the Sun God or the realm of the dead, nor communicate with them," Xiulote said with a puzzled expression, then strived to recall the contents of supernatural stories he had read before.


    "But I could feel a hazy white light, seemingly distant and boundless. It wasn''t with my eyes, but with some consciousness beyond the senses, like dreaming when asleep. I could feel ethereal white light, smoke-like, rising from the bodies of the dead, then merging into the expanse of white light. Afterwards, the white light departed, flying far into the sky, and when I awoke, I could no longer see any trace of it."


    "White light? White smoke?" Tizoc''s brows deeply furrowed, "When did you see this white light?"


    "During the ritual to summon the gods. It''s just that I can''t interact with the white light or smoke, maybe because I''m only an Assistant Priest, and my priestly abilities are far from sufficient," Xiulote replied with shame.


    The theologian king fell into deep thought, gently tapping his fingers on his throne. Xiulote''s words clearly disrupted some of his prior plans. The boy''s seemingly genuine demeanor made him truly wonder about the existence of the white light and smoke.


    Many commanders in the tent looked at Xiulote with surprise, but Aweit''s smile became even more genuine.


    Tizoc returned to his senses, and spoke as usual, "Xiulote, you still have much to learn about theology. Tengu Priests are also a type of Fifth Level Coyote Priests, belonging to the Great Temple of Tenochtitlan. Since you were given the Tengu Ritual Attire in Teotihuacan, you are now a Coyote Priest of Tenochtitlan."


    "After this expedition is over, you will come back with me to Tenochtitlan. The Chief Priest Quetzal of the Great Temple there will be very happy to teach the heir of the Holy City Teotihuacan. Perhaps the High Priesthoods of the nation can unite into one under your leadership."


    Upon hearing the mention of uniting the two High Priesthoods, many officers exclaimed in surprise, looking at Xiulote with envy. That was the pinnacle of divine authority, where two groups with the highest mythological interpretative power could merge.


    Tizoc casually knocked Xiulote off balance and painted an enigmatic vision of the future. Then, without waiting for Xiulote to respond, the king waved his hand, signaling everyone to leave.


    "When will the fledgling eagle be able to break free of its shackles and soar freely in the sky?" As he left the tent and looked at the endless sky, Xiulote yearned quietly.

 Chapter 24 - 23 Catapult

    Chapter 24: Chapter 23 CatapultThe following month had a sense of calm stillness.


    The rain continued to drizzle, with few clear days. Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, it was mid-July, the height of summer when all things flourished.


    Xilotepec City still had not surrendered. Their food supplies could last for at least another ten months. Outside the Mexica camp, a constant stream of food was transported from the lakeside. Samurai stayed in their tents, practicing martial arts with each other and teaching the new soldiers combat skills.


    Xiulote and the carpenters were continuously struggling to cut through the tough sandalwood. They were making the catapult''s frame and polishing the long boom. Of course, the most difficult part to produce was the rotating boom axis. At the junction of the boom axis and the frame, the craftsmen spent a long time dealing with it. Bertade and some following samurai helped as assistants.


    Then, different parts were finally assembled, and the military carpenters reinforced the frame. Next came the first test firing. The rope connecting the boom and the boom axis quickly broke apart, and the boom fell from four meters high, deeply embedding into the soil, startling everyone with a cold sweat.


    Xiulote had no choice but to seek out Aweit. Aweit provided the adhesive used in pyramid construction for Xiulote''s grand invention and also summoned a few experienced craftsmen from the Mexica City-State in the East.


    The senior craftsmen devotedly offered their wisdom to the Hunter Priest. After several days of study, they improved the overall connection of the catapult using tenon-and-mortise techniques. Finally, after a month of effort, a real catapult was completed.


    The afternoon sun was warm and comfortable, marking a rare clear day.


    Aweit stood on the edge of the parade ground, watching the four- to five-meter high catapult not far away, where craftsmen and laborers were busy below. He smiled and said, "Rushing me over here in such haste, so, can your grand toy be played with now?"


    Xiulote, with a face full of excitement, replied, "Aweit, this will be a revolutionary weapon, forever changing the way we attack city-states. I shall call it the Human-Powered Catapult Type One, no, without wheels, it should be the Human-Powered Catapult Machine Type One." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then, Xiulote watched the craftsmen complete the loading and shouted loudly, "Fire!"


    At the command, over twenty laborers strenuously pulled the ropes connected to the short axis of the boom, and then the boom and boom axis rotated. As the boom''s long axis approached its highest point of rotation, about ten meters above the ground, a stone weighing more than ten pounds suddenly flew from the top of the long axis in a parabola, landing far away at the end of the parade ground and raising a cloud of dust on impact.


    Aweit''s mouth dropped open in awe as he watched the scene unfold, astonishment freezing on his face. The head-sized stone was thrown over two hundred steps, its massive kinetic energy capable of instantaneously killing any warrior in its landing spot, regardless of their martial arts skills or armor.


    Xiulote "admired" Aweit''s expression. It was the first time he had seen Aweit lose composure to such sheer astonishment. He was thrilled, feeling a tremendous sense of accomplishment. This was the first product he had completed that surpassed the era, a first surpassing of history too.


    At the same time, he had an epiphany: for the geniuses of this era, he did not possess formidable martial force, nor extraordinary intelligence, and he was still learning how to grasp human hearts and the times. What he truly could rely on were his emphasis on science and technology, his predictions about future development directions, and his memories of historical trends.


    "Well," he chuckled self-mockingly, "a priest who''s part-time a scientist, craftsman, and prophet."


    Aweit''s shock lasted for a full six seconds, which was already the longest time he had ever lost control of his facial expressions.


    Immediately afterward, he walked over to the catapult with a serious face, meticulously examining its mechanical structure to confirm the weapon could be fired repeatedly. Then he walked to the firing end, measuring the firing distance.


    "Fourteen pounds, two hundred twenty steps," Xiulote heard Aweit calculating studiously.


    Then Aweit called over a skilled hunter to measure the effective killing range of a sling on a five-meter-high platform. "The sling''s range from atop the wall near a hundred twenty ste


    ps, barely inflicts any damage on leather armor, hit rate extremely low."


    It was then that Aweit, with excitement now on his face, said to Xiulote, "Test out, at a distance of one hundred twenty steps, how heavy a stone the machine can fire."


    The two then began testing different weights of stones, eventually finding that the firing weight at one hundred twenty steps was about forty pounds, roughly equivalent to nine liters, the size of three human heads.


    Subsequently, the two tested the destructive power of throwing stones from this distance, the potential energy from nearly ten meters combined with the kinetic energy of the stone''s initial speed. The force was powerful enough to leave clear marks on earthen and stone walls, but it was incapable of causing structural damage to walls ten paceswide.


    In other words, to demolish the walls completely, the manpower-driven stone thrower model one was still inadequate.


    However, for the wooden structures on and inside the walls, this force was devastating.


    After obtaining detailed weapon data, Aweit hurriedly left.


    Soon after, Supreme Commander Totec was forcibly brought over by Aweit. This tall, stern Mexica ace warrior gazed unchangingly at the "giant toy" being loaded with a forty-kilogram stone bullet, then, following a tremendous roar, his stoic face instantly turned to one of dumbfounded shock, lasting for more than ten seconds.


    "Heavenly Divine bless." Totec watched the stone''s landing point, which had sunk deep enough to fit a palm. "Is this a weapon of the gods? Did the giants from the legendary first era use such weapons to kill the sun?"


    Xiulote watched Totec, who was almost worshiping next to the trebuchet, with a helpless expression. He estimated that the trebuchet''s power was akin to the Thunderbolt Chariots used in the Battle of Guandu, far from the large-caliber short-barreled cannons used by the Spanish during their siege of the Moors in this era.


    "It''s all because they lack knowledge," Xiulote thought. Hence, decades later, the Aztec warriors would similarly mistake the Spanish colonizers'' cannons and matchlock guns for divine punishment, plunging them into a panicked delusion.


    In fact, these weapons inflicted far less direct damage on people than brutal close combat, but their impact on morale and perception was inversely significant. "Thankfully, now they have me!"


    No matter what, this was Central America''s first large-scale siege weapon, possessing epoch-making power.


    Totec immediately mobilized village warriors and craftsmen, then compulsorily conscripted excellent carpenters from nearby city-states. Under the strict supervision of the Eagle Warrior squad, they started massively producing the manpower-driven stone throwers.


    The nearby teak trees soon faced a catastrophic fate. To increase the efficiency of cutting, Totec also conscripted all the bronze axes from the Imperial Guards. Following that, the clinking and clanging of construction echoed throughout the camp.


    Xiulote''s giant toy quickly became famous throughout the army. Officers from various levels came to watch the trebuchet launch, leaving behind various shocked expressions. Even King Tizoc visited once, and like Aweit, was struck with amazement for six seconds, leading Xiulote to remark, "Truly worthy of being brothers."


    Half a month later, outside the eastern gate of Xilotepec City, at a distance of one or two hundred paces from the wall, more than fifty trebuchets were lined up. At Xiulote''s command, the drums sounded, and one thousand strong men forcefully pulled the ropes on their backs, the wooden arms of the trebuchets surged upward, sending more than fifty huge stones soaring through the air. They flew towards the city, leaving the defending army''s eyes widened in terror, and landed with thunderous crashes, shaking the ground, destroying buildings, and kicking up dust.


    "Stone-throwing Commander" Xiulote stood on the earthen platform two hundred paces away, observing the results of the bombardment. He had requested this position from Tizoc, arguing that it would enable him to maximize the effect of the trebuchets. In reality, he just wanted to closely assess the power of his creation and indulge in a little pride.


    "The launch angle is 60 degrees to the front. Yes, that can only guarantee the stones fly within a 60-degree arc directly ahead. That''s acceptable, acceptable," Xiulote wiped his forehead where no sweat existed. "Perhaps rounding the stones would be better, but that would wear down the tools too much. Never mind, precision isn''t what we''re aiming for anyway."


    Xiulote then turned his attention to the casualties: "Many buildings destroyed, about three or four hits on the wall? Wall hit rate 5%, estimated four or five enemy casualties. I guess as the shooting continues, the enemy will quickly adapt, and casualties will be negligible."


    "As expected, small trebuchets mainly impact morale and suppress long-range weapons," Xiulote thought. "Technical advancements must continue."


    The merciless bombardment continued, the giant stones landing with thunderous roars, city-state warriors on the walls were pale, their robust bodies trembling with fear. Many militia crawled on the ground, praying toward the roaring "beast" at the forefront, and even their own warriors and militia were no exception.


    For the "beast''s" inventor and commander, Xiulote, the warriors and militia developed an odd, god-like emotional respect. This emotion would gradually fade, but the seeds of respect had been planted, adding recognition and obedience to their hearts.


    The continuous bombardment lasted for three days. During this period, nobility and priests from the Otomi kept coming up to the city walls, their faces filled with terror as they hastily retreated.


    Three days later, the gates of Xilotepec City opened again, and a group of envoys hurried out. This time, the envoys brought boxes of gifts and tributes.

 Chapter 25 - 24 Surrender

    Chapter 25: Chapter 24 SurrenderThe rainy season in August was intense, with sudden showers accompanied by strong winds, and dark clouds obscuring the sun and daylight. The darkness enveloped everything, including the faces of the envoys from Xilotepec City.


    Xiulote, accustomed to standing at the edge of the large tent, was forcefully pulled back by Totec''s strong arm. The supreme commander with a shaven head and tattooed face gave Xiulote a smile he thought was benign. Xiulote shuddered and had to stand beside him.


    This time, the leader of the envoy was a nobleman. He wore a blue pointed leather hat and a green striped cape over a white robe embroidered with the Sun, carefully avoiding all colors associated with the gods of day and night.


    The nobleman''s posture was naturally much more flexible and agile than that of the priests. He first paid his respects to the "Divine Descendant, as sacred as the morning sun, as grand as the mountains, as brave as the flames, as wise as the Great Lake." Then, he sung praises to the great hummingbird from the south, the Aztec mythology''s War God Huitzilopochtli, the successor of the Sun God.


    Following that, the nobleman began lavishing wholesale honorary titles and compliments on the commanders and priests present like they cost him nothing.


    Xiulote glanced involuntarily at Aweit''s sincere smile, then widened his eyes in dismay. He too had received a complimentary title: "Beast Breeder," a name that sounded utterly fantastical.


    He found it hard to forget the look of shocked confusion and awe on the envoy''s face when they learned that the creator of the "beast" trebuchets was him, as if he shouldn''t be just a youth but rather a giant from the mythological First Sun Era.


    Too much mythological thinking still lingered in the hearts of people across Mexico, the flames of civilization had just begun to kindle.


    And the growth of those flames required the accumulation of civilization. Xiulote reflected, "Perhaps, I should invent a script soon."


    In the tent, the noble''s words might change many things, but at the moment, they couldn''t alter the essence of the war between the two sides.


    When the envoy from Xilotepec City cautiously expressed their intent to surrender, the elderly priest with the Sun Cape stepped forward once again.


    Thirty years'' worth of tributes, six thousand men as sacrifices, severance of the Otomi alliance, handover of the Ritual Plate, handover of the Divine Descendant as a hostage, converting to the great Sun God" ¡ª with the Mexica army holding a significant advantage, their terms became even harsher.


    "Merciful Mexica King," pleaded the envoy to the expressionless Tizoc on the throne, "the City-State has decided to break the alliance and convert, and hand over the Ritual Plate. As for the tributes and sacrifices, may we discuss them further? I also need to report back to the City-State about the hostage matter."


    The king finally nodded, "Immediately hand over the Ritual Plate that records all mythology. The tributes and sacrifices can be reduced by half. This is your last chance!"


    The noble envoy immediately bowed in gratitude and then hurried to leave. Suddenly, he hesitated and said to Xiulote, "Dreaded Beast Breeder, during the negotiations of the City-State, could you stop the beasts'' attacks?"


    Xiulote looked at the king. Tizoc nodded, and Xiulote said, "It can be done!"


    The noble sighed in relief, "I will bring you a satisfactory gift!" Then he left somberly.


    Once the envoy had gone, everyone in the tent looked pleased, Xilotepec City was finally about to capitulate.


    Xiulote too breathed a sigh of relief; the continuous three days of bombardment had severely worn down the trebuchets'' axles, especially at the connections to the slingshots, where the force was greatest and most fragile.


    Xiulote had already told Totec that if the bombardment continued for another day, the trebuchets would break, and it would likely take a week of repairs before they could be used again. Meanwhile, these three days of bombardments had caused only hundreds of casualties among the Otomi, and as the city''s soldiers adapted, this number rapidly decreased.


    Now, every time the trebuchets fired, the samurai and militia would lie down at the corners of the walls, lowering their heads and praying to the beasts, because the clever ones had realized that doing so, the beasts wouldn''t harm them.


    The king was very clear about the current situation, having already left room for retreat in the terms of negotiation. Fortunately, the morale of Xilotepec had already crumbled before its walls did.


    Tizoc nodded at Xiulote with satisfaction, then stepped off the throne and stroked the youth''s hair¡ªan indication of swearing loyalty?


    "The trebuchets are good, continue developing them," the king said with a smile, "What reward would you like?"


    Xiulote was oblivious to the hint. He thought for a moment and replied, "I want some bronze axes and bronze tools, along with some skilled craftsmen."


    "Apart from those building pyramids, you can choose any twenty craftsmen," the king withdrew his hand, expressionless as he pondered for a moment. "There are not many in the Copper-axe Guards either, I can only give you five sets along with the tools. I will grant you a batch of cotton, which you can use to purchase from merchants."


    "The priesthood of Tenochtitlan will always reserve a high seat for you," Tizoc left with one final hint.


    The young man had finally transformed from "a person who poses a slight threat to the throne" to "a person of some use to the throne."


    The sudden downpour had just ceased, yet the sky was still densely covered with dark clouds. Early the next morning, Xiulote was awoken by the chaos and shouting coming from a distant city-state inside his tent.


    He donned the Sun Cape newly bestowed by the King, and under the protection of Bertade the Imperial Guard and several Samurai, he ascended a nearby platform, looking towards the eastern gate of Xilotepec City.


    He saw roughly a hundred laborers struggling to walk out of the city-state. They were forcefully pulling on the ropes on their backs, slowly dragging something.


    Behind the laborers was a group of Otomi nobility Samurai dressed in magnificent attire. Some of the Samurai were blocking, while others were embracing to shield the Priests draped in black and white capes, their expressions fervent.


    The Priests of Xilotepec watched helplessly as the laborers dragged a giant stone out of the city, heading towards the Mexica encampment. They eventually knelt on the ground outside the city, allowing their capes to get covered in mud, just staring in the direction of the giant stone. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Some Priests were crying bitterly, others whispered confessions, yet others swore oaths to the sky, and even more drew out small Obsidian knives, slicing their own cheeks to let the fresh blood stain red stripes.


    Xiulote stepped forward and finally saw the giant stone clearly: it was circular, about two meters in diameter and over half a meter thick, roughly estimating, it weighed close to ten tons. At the center of the giant stone was the face of a dual-natured deity, possessing both male and female features, likely symbolizing the Primordial God Ometeotl.


    Beneath the Primordial God was a monster that had the head of a Crocodile, the body of a fish, and the legs of a frog, symbolizing Xipactli, a primordial sea creature sealed by Ometeotl, believed to be an entity that devoured the world.


    Encircling the Primordial God were four suns, symbolizing the four bygone Eras, similar to the Sun Stone in the Great Temple of Tenochtitlan, in order they were "Four Jaguars," "Four Winds," "Four Rains," "Four Waters," confirming the shared origin of the Mexican regions.


    On the outermost edge of the giant stone, densely packed images were carved, featuring various animals, little people, and abstract deities, interspersed with villages, cities, and vast pyramids.


    These images were the script of Central America, akin to the epic of a tribe, recording the developmental history of a city-state from a village to a city, along with famous warriors or godly miracles. Except for the hereditary Priests, no one could clarify the meaning of these images.


    In these pictorial scripts, different images had different meanings, the same image also had different meanings, and different images could also have the same meaning.


    This design was clearly not for the circulation of knowledge and culture but rather resembled the teachings of esoteric traditions.


    This was the core power held by the Priests: the right to interpret mythology and pictorial scripts. Losing this Ritual Plate meant that the Priests of Xilotepec City had lost the most important foundation of the Temple within the city-state.


    The Priests cried for their faith and harbored hatred for the power they lost.


    "It''s easy to create a script, but unifying the script has to be cautious; this is a struggle for core power with the Priests," Xiulote shuddered with alarm. "Without the mighty force of the First Emperor, how could one unify the script?"


    After obtaining the Ritual Plate, the theologian King was extremely delighted, no longer paying attention to other trivial matters, only assembling the Priests in the military to study together.


    Xiulote visited once, then sneakily slipped away; at that moment, Tizoc''s eyes had only the Ritual Plate, truly the first time he showed no concern for Xiulote''s actions.


    Over the next three days, countless feathered garments, herbs, gold and silver ornaments, and gemstone treasures were continuously transported from Xilotepec City. Xiulote also received the promised gifts from the Envoy, giving him the illusion of becoming opulently wealthy.


    Apart from tributes, the army also demanded ordinary clothing, fish meat, staple foods, and other daily consumables.


    The Mexica Samurai were delighted with the spoils of war, but in the eyes of the Otomi nobility and Samurai, the flames of growing anger burned stronger.


    On the evening of the last day, the gates of the city-state swung wide open. Three thousand designated sacrifices were finally escorted to the Mexica camp amid the cries of their loved ones.


    Dark clouds once again enveloped the wilderness, and the August wind and rain were relentless.


    By then, Xiulote clearly understood: from Priests to nobility, to Samurai, and then to commoners, every person in this city-state had become the absolute enemy of the Mexica army.


    And how could a mere few nobility hostages suppress such deeply buried flames?

 Chapter 26 - 25 Otapan

    Chapter 26: Chapter 25 OtapanThe summer on the Mexican Plateau was warm, even though the rain was constant, there was not a hint of cold.


    Rainwater joined to form lines on his body. Xiulote was simply draped in a cloak and wore shorts. He stood by the river, watching thousands of small boats, like migrating flocks of birds, rowing in from the heavy rain.


    The boatmen, bare-chested, exhaled as they unloaded the grain. Then, the fleet first transported the City-State Ritual Plates most valued by the king, followed by various luxury tributes. After that, came disassembled wooden parts of manual catapults. Xiulote inspected the waterproofing details by the riverbank, and lastly, three thousand Otomi people escorted by the Samurai.


    Be it the Divine Stone, tributes, weapons, or captives, they would all travel up the Tampen River to the grand Lake Capital City.


    The Tampen River was the lifeline of the army. Over a distance of two or three hundred kilometers, depending on the convenient river, just twenty to thirty thousand militia and boatmen were enough to sustain supplies for twenty battalions. The ratio of troops to logistics support was eight to one.


    The same distance, if reliant on the dirt trails of the highlands with neither carts nor oxen carts, just manual labor, the required laborers would quadruple, making the troop to logistic support ratio two to one.


    If the dirt roads changed to mountainous forests, the number of laborers needed for logistics would double again, making the ratio of troops to logistics a frightening one to one.


    As for a two or three hundred kilometers journey through the tropical rainforest on land, at the technology level of any country in the world at that time, no matter how many laborers there were, the army''s logistics line could not be maintained. The laborers would consume all the transported food on the road.


    "River and sea transportation are the lifelines of ancient empires," Xiulote thought, "It''s a pity that the army will soon have to leave this lifeline."


    The City-State of Xilotepec expressed its submission to the utmost extent, with the nobility of the city-state striving to scour the city, moving supplies outside the city to meet all the demands of the Mexica army.


    However, the stubborn nobility and priests did not surrender the city, and the samurai and militia remained stationed on the city walls. Because the city contained everything for them, without being utterly desperate, they were unwilling to give up easily.


    King Tizoc was satisfied with Xilotepec''s submission and had no interest in spending another ten months besieging this wealth-draining city.


    The army''s next target was the core of the loose Otomi Alliance in the west, the Mountain City of Otapan, the legendary northern homeland of the Otomi. Once Otapan City was conquered, the Otomi would lose their political, cultural, and military center and could only submit to the empire.


    Six battalions of troops were left at the encampment on the west bank of the Tampen River. Two direct battalions were responsible for maintaining the large camp by the river. The supply line would here switch to a land route, winding west through the mountains and forests.


    The remaining four City-State battalions were tasked with monitoring the City-State of Xilotepec and maintaining the terrestrial supply line.


    Then, on the first day of September, the king led more than twenty thousand direct samurai, twenty-five thousand direct village warriors, twenty-five thousand City-State warriors, and nearly forty thousand City-State militia. A total of eleven thousand troops, fourteen battalions, moved like a vast swarm of ants toward Otapan two hundred kilometers away.


    The rolling highlands, dark forests, continuous rain, deer and wolves scared away by the army, and the deserted Otomi villages were the scenery along the way.


    Xiulote passed the battlefield once again, with Bertade guarding him. The two stood on the hilltop of the commander, looking together at the vast forest under the drizzle. On the blood-nourished land, the grass had grown lush enough to cover all former traces, except for the memories in people''s hearts.


    The army was merely passing through.


    Along the march, Supreme Commander Totec established four encampments on the highlands, turning forty thousand City-State militia into logistics support, responsible for transportation and guarding the supply line, also conveniently conserving food consumption.


    Eventually, after over half a month of arduous trekking, nearly fifty thousand Mexica warriors, along with twenty-five thousand direct village warriors, a total of nine battalions, finally arrived at the foot of Otapan City.


    Though significantly reduced in number, the core combat strength of the Mexica army remained. Among the fifty thousand Mexica warriors were nearly three thousand Jaguars and Eagle Warrior Battalions, and over ten thousand Fourth Level veteran warriors.


    King Tizoc was confident of victory.


    Even if all the Otomi City-States united and fully mobilized, drafting hundreds of thousands of militia, he could win the battle.


    The king longed for a hearty and decisive grand battle, a battle that could be carved onto a Ritual Plate. He was ready to craft a Ritual Plate for his own coronation, as grand as the Aztec Sun Stone. It would bear the deeds of fifteen predecessor monarchs, and he would be the sixteenth,


    and the name of the Ritual Plate would be the "Tizoc Stone", establishing the king''s incontestable divine right and throne.


    The king''s confidence lasted until the moment he saw Otapan City. At that moment, his smile froze.


    "Heavenly Divine above!" Xiulote struggled out of the rainforest, and the first thing he saw was the mountain city in the distance. "Is this Otapan City?!"


    Xiulote turned his head to exchange a glance with Aweit beside him, both of them breaking into a wry smile. They had long heard that Otapan was easy to defend but hard to attack, yet they had not anticipated such terrain. No wonder even a hundred years later, the Spanish could only maintain a semi-autonomous form of rule here.


    Both men were covered in leaves and dust from their journey through the forest; their guards beside them helped to tidy up their gear. Behind them was the large army, equally weary from the long trek.


    The elevation of Otapan City seemed to fall between Japan''s mountain city and Ping Shan City. Looking up, it sat on a plateau nestled in the mountains, the relative height of which was about forty to fifty meters.


    The north side was the steepest, faintly connecting to the nearby mountain range, with a small stream trickling down. The other three sides had gentler slopes, with simple roads formed by the passage of people.


    The area of the city-state was estimated to exceed five square kilometers. The city walls, built along the mountain''s contour, were likely four to five meters high, enclosing the entire plateau. Xiulote faintly noticed figures moving on the city walls atop the mountain and flags fluttering, probably because they had spotted signs of the large army.


    "This city is a difficult nut to crack. The terrain is treacherous and it doesn''t lack water sources. Plus, it''s still the rainy season."


    "Very tough to breach. No wonder the Otomi, despite being weak, have managed to establish roots here in the north amidst turbulent wars for over two centuries."


    A familiar conversation, the two looked at each other, speechless.


    After a while, Supreme Commander Totec hurried over, his face stern. As soon as he arrived, he grabbed Xiulote, "Xiulote, can your catapult hit the city on the mountain?"


    Xiulote shook his head, "The whole plateau, from the edge to the base of the slope, lies under the maximum range of their city walls. Stones rolled down from the mountain top could completely destroy the catapults. Even without considering long-range attacks, it''s difficult to set up a catapult on such a steep slope. Finally, even if we miraculously succeeded in setting it up, firing at the city walls twenty to thirty meters above would be utterly ineffective."


    Totec furrowed his brow, "Is there really no other way? Like using wooden ladders, or that sharp metal-headed, wheeled cart you mentioned last time?"


    Xiulote and Aweit both shook their heads.


    "Elite samurai carrying wooden ladders up the mountain for forty to fifty meters. They would need to withstand unilateral attacks from stones, wood blocks, spears, arrows, and boulders from above the city walls for nearly thirty minutes, exerting tremendous physical effort, and then they still need to forcefully enter the city for combat. Especially during this relentless rainy season, the casualties among the samurai would be too heavy. It''s just not possible," Aweit said, his face losing its smile. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Not to mention the difficulty of constructing a battering ram. Given this terrain, it would be nearly impossible to push a ram onto the plateau, and the rocks from above could completely destroy it," Xiulote added helplessly.


    "There''s really no way at all?" Totec asked, still not giving up.


    Both shook their heads again.


    "We should lay siege," Aweit suggested.


    Otapan City was a castle established in the mountains. In truth, there were ways to fight in this era. Xiulote thought, first use a large number of cannon fodder troops to exhaust the city''s rolling stones and logs.


    Then, with the Spanish''s large caliber, short-barreled cannons, they could bombard the walls until they collapsed, or use the advantage of archers to suppress the defending army''s ranged attacks from the city walls, then pushing forward the battering ram to breach the gates. Finally, rely on elite assault troops to storm in through the breach or the gates for close combat.


    Regardless of the method, both required a superiority in ranged suppression, and massive casualties among the elite troops were inevitable.


    But for now... "We should lay siege," Xiulote also said.


    Soon, over seventy thousand Mexica troops set up camp on three sides of Otapan, blocking the easily traversed roads, building makeshift fortifications, and dispatching elite squads to patrol the treacherous north.


    Totec tried various methods to provoke the defending army inside the city. According to the last intelligence report, after gathering some reinforcements from Guamare and Pamus, the city now had over ten thousand samurai, thirty thousand militia, and thirty to forty thousand able-bodied civilians, with enough food to last for a year.


    Perhaps they were scared by the last battle, or perhaps they had decided to turtle up completely. No matter how the Mexica samurai provoked and tempted them, the Otomi remained immobile, staunchly defending Otapan.


    The lengthy siege began.

 Chapter 27 - 26 Creating Characters

    Chapter 27: Chapter 26 Creating CharactersThe warm monsoon, carrying moist vapor, rose from the tranquil Caribbean Sea.


    It passed through the still wild islands, through the fierce rainforest, across the Vastec plains, and then rose along the Mexican Plateau, caressing the flourishing Mexican Valley before turning into a gentle drizzle.


    The drizzle drifted across the sky and fields, over mountains and forests, past the sturdy mountain city of the Otomi, and reached the camps of the Mexica samurai nestled in the mountains.


    Then, it gently fell, dampening the cloth of a log cabin, drops tracing soft arcs that caught the eye of a young boy.


    The boy lifted his pen in contemplation, then drew a pictograph of water: five curving blue lines, and below them he wrote the character for "water".


    The youth, Xiulote, looked at the wooden board in front of him, which was filled with blue drawings and characters. The content was split into two lines, the first line consisting of various pictographs similar to oracle bone script, the second being traditional Chinese characters.


    Seeing that the board was full, he took it from the clay stand in front of him and placed it into a neatly arranged pile of boards beside him.


    Next, he picked up a brush made from hair, dipped it in indigo Maya blue ink, and before he could start deeply contemplating, noticed that there was not much ink left.


    He then called for Bertade to go to the rooms of the priests and fetch some more Maya blue dye. If that was not enough, he was to mix some on-site with leaves from the wild blue tree and clay from the slopes.


    After Bertade left, Xiulote sighed deeply, feeling all his wisdom had been drained, and knew he needed a break to regain some energy.


    The siege had already lasted two weeks, and he had finally found some free time. Xiulote began an endeavor he had long contemplated and which was of great importance: "creating a script".


    In Xiulote''s eyes, the Aztec, and indeed the whole of Central America, were still in an era of graphical record-keeping, the sprouting of hieroglyphs just beginning, like the "war" figures he had once learned with his father¡ªa shield and a club, and "death", a white cloth wrapping a corpse.


    These figures were still in the budding phase of hieroglyphs, much more primitive than the full "six scripts" of the Yin Dynasty''s oracle bone script, and were estimated to be on the same level as the Seal Script from the legends of the Xia Dynasty. This also suggested that the forebears of America, when they separated from Eurasia, were still in a pre-historic era without any script.


    According to Xiulote''s experience, the Aztec''s current pictographs were too arbitrary, with their writing and interpretation changing according to the user''s whims, with cultural power firmly locked in the hands of the priests.


    Script is the foundation of a nation, and culture is its backbone.


    For the ambitious Xiulote, he could not tolerate the Empire''s current lack of a writing system and resolved to personally rectify this flaw.


    At first, Xiulote was ambitious, planning to emulate mythological legends to create a complete script system of his own. However, this idea only lasted for ten minutes before stopping dead at the first character.


    Then, Xiulote turned to the script system he was most familiar with and loved the most: Chinese.


    After a long contemplation, he thought that a Mexica Empire using Chinese characters wouldn''t be too bad either, "Huaxia Aztec Celestial Empire unifying America" just thinking about it made his blood surge.


    Next, he encountered a dilemma, "The development of writing does not happen overnight."


    For the nascent Mexica, it was impossible for them to start using simplified characters right away. A Mexica samurai could understand "the universe was vast," yet had not learned about "Vast Universe," could see "the sun and the moon waxing," but did not understand "the arrangement of constellations." For him, abstract terms like "science," "economy," "culture," had no foundational concepts established yet.


    Chinese characters themselves represented a recognition of the world and society, originating from pictographs and from the simplest perception of the world, then through various eras, with the integration of thoughts and cultural transformations, they moved from the pictorial to the abstract. Each explanation in explaining characters and words was an understanding of the world by the ancestors.


    Xiulote did not just want to introduce Chinese characters as tools, similar to how modern Mexico used Spanish. He wished to integrate the mature Han culture that relied on script. This way, on one hand, it would accelerate the development of the entire Aztec civilization, and on the other hand, it would mitigate the excessively bloody human sacrifice culture. Simultaneously, using the complete framework of Chinese characters as the main body, integrating existing pictograms, then introducing the phono-semantic characters of the Nava language, thus saving thousands of years of evolutionary time. Then, he would rely on script to swiftly undergo reforms in the Alliance''s politics, religion, and culture.


    "When King Wen taught and transformed, ladies-in-waiting behaved as dignified as dukes and ministers. Passing by, they dared not slacken, they stood and straightened their caps and tassels." Xiulote recited a few lines of poetry, then feeling that comparing himself to King Wen and the samurai to ladies-in-waiting was a bit too pretentious, he chuckled and continued to meditate deeply.


    Now, Xiulote already had a specific template for the script: traditional Chinese characters.


    What he had to do was to use semi-pictographic traditional Chinese characters as a basis, to deduce even more pictographic Oracle Bone Script, Seal Script, or invented pictographs, and establish a logical process from concrete objects->pictographic Oracle Bone/Seal Script->semi-pictographic traditional Chinese characters. Finally, from the semi-pictographic traditional Chinese characters, he derived the abstract concept meanings.


    After a short while, Xiulote heard someone lift the cloth covering the door and saw Bertade entering with a pottery jar of dyes, followed by Aweit, whom he hadn''t seen in several days.


    "Xiulote, what have you been busy with lately?" smiled Aweit. "There have been quite a few banquets at the camp these past few days, but I haven''t seen you there."


    "Banquets are just eating some roasted deer and drinking some tequila. Our supplies have been tight lately, and there hasn''t been much good food," Xiulote also smiled. "I''ve been busy with a big project lately, Aweit. If you have time, you could help me."


    The two then sat cross-legged at the edge of an earthen platform, with deer skin blankets laid out on the ground.


    "Take a look at these wooden boards," Xiulote pointed at a stack by his foot.


    "What is this?" Aweit looked at the two rows of figures and text on the wooden boards.


    "This is writing. The top row consists of various images, many of which we have studied on the Ritual Plates. The line of text below summarizes the meanings of the images and has a fixed writing style and text construction structure. You can try to guess the meaning of the text based on the images," explained Xiulote.


    Aweit grew interested and began to study carefully.


    "This wooden board, does the top row of images show a person, an eye, a mountain, a river, a tree, two trees, three trees, a fish?"


    Xiulote glanced at it, the line of text underneath read, "man, eye, mountain, water, tree, woods, forest, fish."


    "Right, the text below is a standardized writing form and a condensation of the meanings of the pictures above. See, a single ''tree'' character represents one tree, whereas two ''tree'' characters represent a large grove, and three ''tree'' characters represent the forest beyond us. The stacking of the ''tree'' character doesn''t refer to the quantity of one, two, three, but rather an expansion of the meaning in a larger spatial sense," explained Xiulote.


    "Then this wooden board, are the images a person holding something round, a river with land in the middle, a tree bearing fruit, an eye with hair above it, a person looking up at the sky? Are these images derived from the previous wooden board?"


    "Exactly, so the text below is related to the previous images as well. In order, they are melon, isthmus, fruit, eyebrow, sky. ''Melon'' comes from the character for person, ''isthmus'' from the character for water, ''fruit'' from the character for tree, ''eyebrow'' from the character for eye, and ''sky'' also comes from the character for person," Xiulote detailed.


    "Aweit, take a look at this one. The one that grows on the ground with round fruits is called ''bean''; when the beans are flourishing with lots of sprouts and leaves, it''s called ''abundant'', meaning a bountiful harvest; this shape of a skeleton represents ''bone'' in our bodies. ''Abundant'' derives from the idea of being large and full from harvest, ''bone'' combined with ''abundant'' expands to represent your body, which is ''body''..."


    "And look at this one, a single line is ''one'', two lines are ''two'', three lines are ''three'', a short line with a long line is ''above'', a long line with a short line is ''below''..."


    The two conversed more and more in tune with each other until the evening fell and the room grew dim.


    "Xiulote, these characters are fascinating. At first, they all represent things that can be seen and touched. Then, by combining them, they transform into things that can''t be seen or touched. Yet, despite not knowing these things, looking at the characters you''ve talked about, I somehow feel like I can understand them," Aweit remarked.


    "That''s because you''re very clever," laughed Xiulote. "What do you think of these characters?"


    "They''re really good," Aweit praised happily.


    "How about I tell you the meanings of the characters, then you draw the corresponding images?" Xiulote suggested enticingly.


    "Sure. I''ve been relatively free these days. I''ll play along with you for a while," Aweit agreed.


    "Imagine, just imagine. If this isn''t just play, I would like to use these characters with fixed meanings to replace the priests'' pictographic records, what do you think?"


    A moment of silence.


    Then, Aweit smiled and said, "I''d like to live a bit longer, and I''d like you to live longer too." Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 28 - 27 AD 1481

    Chapter 28: Chapter 27 AD 1481```


    Before his eyes, it was already mid-October, and the siege of Otapan had been going on for a month. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The long rainy season finally showed signs of departing, making way for the long-missed clear sunshine in the sky.


    During this period, Xiulote and Aweit had organized nearly a thousand commonly used Chinese characters and had drawn the corresponding pictograms. At the same time, Xiulote had also taught these characters to the samurai who followed him.


    These characters, starting from everyday objects, were connected to each other through their radicals, explaining each other''s meanings, and then gradually extended to form basic abstract concepts. For instance, the formal government office "temple" was constructed using "inch" and "earth," followed by the concept of "time" derived from studying the sun "sun" in the "temple."


    Then, inspired, Xiulote began working with craftsmen to create the simplest and clearest timekeeping device, the sundial, and proudly presented it to Aweit.


    Aweit only laughed and told him that such toys had already been invented by the ancient Maya two thousand years ago. It was simply because Xiulote had not yet undergone a long and formal priestly education, so he knew very little about astronomy.


    "According to the calendar we learned from the Maya, a year has twenty months, with eighteen days in each month. There are five unlucky days at the end of the year, with an additional unlucky day added every four years," Aweit explained.


    365.25 days a year. Xiulote thought, I knew that too.


    What came next, however, Xiulote did not know.


    "The world was created by the gods, who come from the starry night sky where the Big Dipper converges, a distant place with no known whereabouts," Aweit said, as he began to sing a song for sacrificial rites.


    "Twenty years make a Katun, twenty Katuns make a Baktun. After 64 and a half Baktuns, all things come to an end, and the Sun God returns to the origin of the Big Dipper."


    An era is 25,800 years? Xiulote silently calculated. Convergence of the Big Dipper? No, it must be the Pleiades the Maya observed. The Sun God returns to the Big Dipper? The sun takes roughly 25,800 years to orbit around the Pleiades!


    Xiulote, unable to help himself, held his forehead in his hand, thinking how such an advanced civilization in terms of their calendar could be without a writing system. Such a strangely prioritized tech tree.


    "The sun is reborn, the sun dies, one cycle consists of five eras. The first era was ruled by giants who ate acorns during the age of four Jaguars. The second era was mankind who ate pine nuts during the age of four Winds. The third era was mankind who ate lotus seeds during the age of four Rains. The fourth era was mankind who ate bullrush during the age of four Waters."


    What is all this? Xiulote rubbed his forehead, listening to tales of astronomy and mythology.


    "The fifth era is now, with mankind as the protagonist again, eating corn, in the age of four Movements. At the end of the era, everything returns to nothingness, the world is destroyed by earthquakes, living beings perish in floods, the Sun God returns to the Divine Kingdom, signaling the end of the world," Aweit chanted solemnly and mysteriously.


    "End of the world?" Xiulote felt oddly familiar with this term, "The Maya''s end of the world? 2012!"


    Jumping up excitedly, Xiulote grabbed Aweit, who was immersed in the mythological prophecies: "How many years are left until the end of the world?"


    "Let me calculate. Don''t worry, the end of the world is still far off," Aweit smiled, slightly surprised at Xiulote''s reaction. "There is one Baktun, plus six Katuns, plus eleven years left until the end of the world."


    Four hundred plus one hundred and twenty plus eleven, five hundred and thirty-one years? The year is 1481 AD!


    Xiulote felt so moved that he was on the verge of tears; he finally knew the current year, and his memories of history (Europa Universalis) could finally connect with this era.


    It was the year 1481 AD, eleven years before Columbus would discover America, thirty-eight years before the Spaniards invaded Mexico.


    ```


    In this era, the center of the world still lay in the Far East and the Near East, where the densest populations, the most majestic cities, the most bustling marketplaces, and the most powerful empires resided!


    In the Far East, the Ming Dynasty was at its zenith, still in the prosperous times of the Chenghua Renaissance, having defeated the Mongols to the north and the Jurchen in Jianzhou to the east, pressing down on East Asia, undoubtedly the protagonist of this world; the Kingdom of Korea was in the midst of intense internal strife, with the advent of the Four Major Disturbances sparking waves of factional conflicts; Japan had just experienced the ¨­nin War, and the Warring States Period had begun, heralding an era of chaos;


    In Southeast Asia, the Ayutthaya Kingdom was in a period of prosperity under the rule of the White Elephant King, embarking on a series of reforms; in the Java islands, the Hindu Majapahit Empire began to decline while the rise of the Islamic Sultanate of Demak was emerging.


    In Central Asia, the empire founded by the limping Tamerlane was falling apart, while the founder of the Mughal Empire, Babur, was about to emerge, set to conquer the Delhi Sultanate amidst its turmoil in North India; and on the Deccan Plateau in South Asia, the historically penultimate Hindu empire of Vijayanagara was in the final period of its first dynasty, with internal strife looming and the last chance to unify South India slipping away.


    In the Near East, another protagonist of the world, the resplendent Ottoman Empire, was about to enter its golden age. This year, Sultan Mehmed the Conqueror, who had conquered the Eastern Roman Empire, had just passed away. He already conquered half of the Balkan Peninsula, controlled the Khanate of Crimea and had invaded northern Iraq.


    Over the next hundred years, the crescent moon''s expansion would never cease; the Ottoman Empire would continue to conquer Iraq, Syria, the Holy City of Palestine, Mamluk Egypt, the entire coast of the Red Sea, until it gained full control of the East-West trade, forcing the exploration and development of new routes by Europe.


    The waves of Ottoman western conquest kept pressing forward, subjugating Romania, Wallachia, until they held the entire Balkan region. Then, conquering Hungary, invading Austria, and laying siege to Vienna, bringing a long, unstoppable fear to Europeans.


    On the grasslands of Eastern Europe, at this time, the Grand Duchy of Moscow had just gained independence from being a vassal state of the Golden Horde, and the Slavic people were finally welcoming the dawn of rebirth. After assimilating the culture and blood of the Tatars, the Slav''s expansion eastward would continue for half a millennium, crossing the boundless grasslands of Central Asia, and over the vast expanse of Siberia, all the way to the frigid Sea of Japan.


    In Central Europe, the Kingdom of Poland was in the "Golden Age" of the Jagiellonian Dynasty; the prosperity of nobility manors along with the development of the noble Sejm would maintain the kingdom''s loose strength; in the Holy Roman Empire, the great Maximilian I was about to become Emperor, planning cumbersome and protracted imperial reforms, and also skillfully laying out political marriages paving a vast future for the Habsburg Dynasty.


    In Western Europe, the Spanish Empire was born from the union of Castile and the Kingdom of Aragon, with the devout Catholic, Ferdinand II, becoming its first king. The Reconquista, lasting for eight hundred years, was nearing its end, with the Moors being expelled back to North Africa. The gaze of the Spaniards, together with Columbus, was about to turn towards the primitive and rich America, filled with an insatiable greed for gold.


    Even though Prince Henry had already passed away, the Portuguese exploration continued forward; they were about to discover the Congo, pass through the Cape of Good Hope, colonize South Africa, establish trading posts in East Africa, and eventually, upon encountering the Ottomans again in the Red Sea, they would reach the rich and fragmented India, setting up a colonial empire with a population of only two million.


    At this time, after the meticulous efforts throughout his life by Louis XI, the Kingdom of France had finally annexed the Duchy of Burgundy, completing a hard-earned unification. The Spider King was about to pass away, leaving the French the rudiments of absolute monarchy.


    As for the English, as far removed from the continent as they were, the thirty years'' War of the Roses was not yet over, and England''s unification still seemed distant. On this small island, there were still Wales, Ireland, and Scotland, and no one anticipated that an empire of the future would arise here.


    In West Africa, after the Songhai people conquered Timbuktu from the Mali Empire, they finally established the empire of Black Africa along the Niger River, and subsequently met the Portuguese explorers for the first time on the West African coast.


    In East Africa, the Ethiopians were still ruled under the Solomonic dynasty, their long reign set to continue for another five hundred years, sustaining the only cross amongst a sea of crescent moons.


    "This year is 1481, an era where nothing has yet happened, an era full of possibilities!" Xiulote thought, "At this time, the center of the world is in the East. Europeans have not yet obtained the wealth and land of America, nor have they started the counter-attack routes to America, Africa, India, Southeast Asia, and even China. They have not yet become powerful!"


    "I still have thirty years, to unify Central America and welcome the colonizers from afar." Xiulote finally let go of his fear of the unknown, the spark of conquest burning into flame. "Since I have come here, I am destined to change everything!"


    "Xiulote?" Aweit looked at Xiulote, who had been standing for a while, with some confusion.


    The young man finally returned to reality after a long reverie and then let out a happy laugh. He excitedly hugged his teacher, unable to contain his enthusiasm.


    Aweit''s smile froze instantly, and he disdainfully reached out to touch Xiulote''s forehead ¨C no fever. "You, what''s gotten into you all of a sudden? That''s just a myth; the end of the world is not coming."


    "Yes, teacher." Xiulote leaned his face against his teacher''s chest and mumbled indistinctly, "The end of the world is not coming, we shall change all this..."

 Chapter 29 - 28: Guerilla

    Chapter 29: Chapter 28: GuerillaThe rainy season departed on an inconspicuous night. The next morning, as sunlight pierced the darkness and the sky cleared, people erupted in warm cheers.


    The besieged camp quickly buzzed with activity; the samurai could finally air out their moldy garments. Also laid out to dry were heaps of slightly moldy corn cakes at the storage room entrance.


    Meanwhile, on a nearby hill, the imposing samurai were sitting cross-legged among lush grass, enjoying the comfort of the sun''s rays while they gazed at wooden boards in their hands with furrowed brows, struggling to learn the fearsome "script" with Xiulote.


    Glancing at the number of people on the grass, Xiulote sighed softly.


    He said to Bertade, who was beside him, "Lately, the camp''s food supply has been insufficient, and due to the rain soaking everything, it seems many warriors are sick in bed."


    Bertade nodded, "In the royal camp alone, two to three hundred warriors have fallen ill due to acclimation issues. The other two camps are likely in worse shape. Luckily, only two of the warriors following us have upset stomachs, probably from eating the moldy corn cakes."


    Xiulote nodded and then looked worriedly towards the distance, where the camp of the city-state warriors was located. His father was leading Teotihuacan''s legion there; he did not know how they were faring.


    "The priest truly had a divine revelation. The ritual of boiling water before drinking is indeed effective," said Bertade, admiringly to Xiulote.


    Xiulote could only give a wry smile. Initially, he had told the warriors following him that they should boil their drinking water to reduce illnesses during the rainy season.


    In that era, without metal tools, gathering wood and making fire was a very arduous task. The warriors were unwilling to spend hours just to have some hot water to drink.


    In the end, he had to use mythology, telling his followers, "The God of Death Xiulotel has a duty to protect the sun and will turn a blind eye to those who pray with fire." Only then could he barely instill the habit of drinking boiled water.


    "The rainy season has finally ended. Now, the transport and loss of grain will improve a lot, and everyone can eat their fill of corn cakes," Xiulote said with a smile, encouraging the followers beside him who were looking pale but still persisting in their studies. "Come on, continue learning, you all are the pillars of the nation!"


    However, the arrival of the dry season did not make things better. Normal grain transport only lasted less than two weeks, and by late November, there were repeated reports of grain transport teams being ambushed.


    Aweit and Xiulote sat cross-legged opposite each other in a hut, with Bertade sitting behind Xiulote.


    "Two days ago, a hundred-man grain transport team was attacked. One hundred militiamen, not a single one escaped," Aweit said somberly. "The militiamen''s clothes were all stripped off, it must have been the Otomi highlanders."


    "This is the second time this week. Last time, the militiamen''s heads were chopped off and piled into a pyramid as a display of defiance. Their clothes were left intact, indicating it was likely an Otomi warrior squad," Bertade added calmly.


    "It seems a large number of Otomi have infiltrated the forests behind us," nodded Xiulote. "Are there enough food reserves in the camp?"


    "The camp''s food can last three months at the normal rate of consumption," Aweit replied with a slight smile, "The situation with the food is not urgent for now. It''s impossible to maintain a large force in the forests for an extended period. The small groups of Otomi can only disrupt our grain transport; with their current capability, they are temporarily unable to cut off our food supply lines."


    Xiulote nodded again; the rear guard of over one hundred thousand had effectively maintained the logistics supply line for seventy thousand elite troops.


    "But this is a very bad omen. Where are these attackers coming from?" Xiulote asked seriously.


    "Most of the warriors and nearly all of the militia seem to come from Guamare and Pamus. Scouts discovered recent conscriptions in the villages of that region," Aweit, who had recently taken charge of the army''s intelligence work explained, while the security work was still jointly carried out by Totec.


    "A small number of warriors might come from the far west of Tlacaelel and the mountainous regions near Coahuila to the north. Although the Otomi city-states there are weak and remote, they can still dispatch squads of warriors a hundred strong."


    Xiulote nodded. Tlacaelel was to the west of Otapan, more than a month''s journey away. Further west lay the territory of the Tescos, where the Tarascans were currently on a campaign.


    Coahuila was almost two months'' journey north of Otapan, a place full of desolate Gobi and barren highlands, home to a semi-nomadic people known as the Chichimecs, practically the edge of the Central American world. Beyond Coahuila to the north lay the Texas plains, where wild bison could be caught.


    "After more than two months of siege, the Otomi from various places have finally reacted." Then Xiulote asked, "Does the Supreme Commander have any plans to respond?"


    "It''s over two weeks'' march from Xilotepec City to Otapan. The forty thousand militia encamped in between are fine for maintaining logistics, but they''re not strong enough for combat. Totec is preparing to draw two thousand warriors from both ends, divided into forty squads of one hundred men each, to search for and attack the assailants."


    After pondering for a moment, Xiulote looked up at Bertade beside him and said, "Bertade, can you lead a squad of twenty to join the battle against the Otomi squads? We need to grasp the specifics of Otomi mountain warfare. Be careful in battle and gather more information."


    Bertade then bowed his head quietly in salute: "I am honored to fight for you. Leave it to me!"


    So, the cruel forest melee began quickly. Most of the warrior squads returned from their search empty-handed, while a few that did encounter the enemy were locked in do-or-die brawls in the woods. Beneath the towering pine trees'' shadow, the bodies of warriors and militia lay fallen, indistinguishable from one another. Blood nourished the soft earth and fostered lush plant growth.


    In a month of mountain forest raids and hunts, more than ten Jaguar warriors were lost, over four hundred warriors died, and another five or six hundred were wounded, while the Otomi''s casualties were only twice this number, most of whom were militia.


    This kind of mountain forest attack suffered losses comparable to a large-scale battle, making King Tizoc both furious and uneasy. The rage of the Mexica warriors was burning fiercely, most directed at the enemy, with a small portion reserved for the King.


    When Xiulote saw Bertade again, the Jaguar-strength warrior still had a serene expression, but now there was a bandaged mark on his shoulder.


    Xiulote was quite surprised; apart from Totec, Bertade and Olosh were almost the strongest warriors he had ever seen. He was nervously concerned about his top warrior. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It''s nothing serious, just caught an arrow in a sneak attack from an Otomi Hunter''s bow. I''ve already applied healing powder," Bertade shook his head, "The situation is not optimistic; the mountains give the Otomi too great an advantage."


    "The Otomi militia and hunters set different traps, such as a prepared pitfall with sharpened stakes at the bottom, covered with a frame of branches and a thin layer of soil and turf. Once stepped on, if the weight exceeds the limit, the branches will snap and the Mexica warriors will fall, injuring their legs and feet, or even dying on the spot."


    "Another trap is a fork made of wooden spikes hidden in the leaves and grass, one end tied to a bent large branch or small tree, then the Otomi lure the warriors into a chase. Once the warriors touch the rope laid on the ground, the mechanism is triggered, then the branch snaps back with the fork, like a strike with the full force of a Jaguar, powerful enough to pierce through the body and Leather Armor."


    "Comparatively speaking, I''d rather face the Otomi warriors," said Bertade frankly, "The Otomi militia can be considered half a warrior in the mountains, while the few hunters are as dreadful as Jaguar warriors."


    "The mountains dispersed our strong formations. The heavy Obsidian Clubs drained too much energy while the militia''s Stone Spears turned out to be more agile. Various traps could circumvent the protection of Leather Armor and narrow the martial arts gap. Terrain familiarity also allowed the Otomi to conserve more energy and find more suitable opportunities."


    In conclusion, Bertade said: "We can''t keep depleting against the Otomi in the mountains, the sacrifice of warriors is too cheap. Once we fought on flat ground in a large-scale head-on battle, a Mexica warrior group could easily defeat five times the Otomi militia, with the casualties being ten times fewer than in the forest."


    Xiulote nodded, realizing that the army had effectively fallen into the most primitive form of guerrilla warfare.


    This kind of mountain guerrilla warfare would wear down elite enemy forces while providing a significant combat power boost to the terrain-familiar highlanders, much like the historically formidable Swiss highlanders and South African Boers. Guerrilla warfare allowed the weaker side to inflict disproportionate casualties against a vastly superior opponent.


    "The location of the war must change," agreed Xiulote.


    As the two were seriously analyzing tactics, they saw Aweit hurriedly approach.


    He reached out and naturally took hold of Xiulote. Then, smiling, he said, "The King has convened a council; let''s hurry over."

 Chapter 30 - 29 Martial Prowess

    Chapter 30: Chapter 29 Martial ProwessOn the way to the King''s tent, Xiulote looked up at the sky. The deep sky, high clouds, no longer warm sunlight, carried a cold wind.


    "It is already the end of December, and soon it will be the ominous final days of the year," Xiulote thought.


    Inside the tent, the King still sat high upon his throne, appearing like a deity, with his eyes half-closed, his demeanor unflappable. Today''s meeting, the War Priests had not attended. To the right of the tent stood the Central Army Commander, draped in a Sun Stone cloak, and to the left were the Legion Commanders of the City-States, each adorned in different cloaks, head crowned with feather crowns. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote saw his father too standing at the front left of the tent, his face a mix of resolve and worry. It wasn''t until he saw the two who entered that Xiuxoke smiled joyfully, exchanged a glance with Xiulote, and then nodded to Aweit beside him.


    Following that, Xiulote moved to stand beside Aweit to the right. He looked around, most generals in the tent were anxious, the familiar leaders couldn''t help whispering among themselves, momentarily creating a somewhat restless and uneasy atmosphere.


    A moment later, once the Commanders and the heads of all the battalions had arrived, Tizoc opened his eyes and scanned the room with a piercing gaze, gradually silencing the noises until there was complete quiet.


    Xiulote recalled past scenes of the King holding court, observing people''s expressions and the silence. It seemed that the King''s prestige had declined.


    "I have called you here for two reasons," Tizoc addressed the City-State Legion Commanders, "first, to understand the casualties of the various legions, and second, to discuss our next steps. How are your casualties?"


    The generals reported the losses of their warriors in turn, cursing the cunning of the Otomi people and simultaneously complaining about the insufficiency of provisions, hoping the King would distribute another batch.


    Xiulote saw Tizoc''s brow furrow slightly.


    The siege had already lasted over three months, and the casualties during this period were indeed much higher than anticipated. The rainy season''s inhospitable conditions, coupled with guerrilla warfare in the mountains and forests, had resulted in over six hundred dead from disease, more than four hundred killed in action among the fifty thousand Mexica warriors, nearly two thousand more suffering from illness and injuries, and even twenty of the elite Nobility Jaguar warriors had perished.


    Over three months, and the elite warriors had suffered casualties numbering three thousand. Xiulote was surprised by this figure. The fifty thousand Otomi Warriors alone would hardly have inflicted such losses on the army.


    From this, it was evident that logistics and environment sometimes dealt more damage to an army than large-scale battles.


    The Commanders were indifferent to the militia, so there was no precise tally of their losses. Xiulote only knew that the camp and rear-guard militias had also lost three to four thousand men, mostly among those tasked with maintaining the mountain forest transport. Half of them died due to the harsh conditions of the jungle during the rainy season, and the other half fell to guerrilla attacks by Otomi squads.


    Tizoc''s frown deepened.


    "What are the Otomi casualties?" the King asked Totec.


    Totec hesitated briefly, then stepped forward and declared, "We have found over two thousand five hundred bodies of Otomi Militia, and as for the warriors... less than a hundred bodies."


    A commotion spread throughout the tent. The Otomi Militia had inflicted casualty ratios of two to one, or even three to one against the Mexica warriors, an utterly unacceptable figure. It seemed the Otomi had finally found a way to counter the Mexica warriors, Xiulote thought.


    The King struggled to calm his emotions and commanded silence from the generals in the tent.


    Then, Tizoc asked Aweit in earnest, "Where did these Otomi come from? And how many are left?"


    "The militia came from Guamare and Pamus, while the warriors, in addition to these locations, included a small part from more distant western or northern City-States," Aweit replied gravely, "The number of warriors is estimated to be over a thousand, and the militia is countless, as these villages can still mobilize tens of thousands more."


    Hearing the number of tens of thousands, the generals once again grew noisy. Everyone clamored for a chance to crush the Otomi. Xiulote listened for a while, noting that no one yet suggested a retreat. The perceived weakness of the Otomi in direct combat gave everyone a false sense of a victory within reach.


    Even the King found it difficult to quiet the clamor in the tent this time, and he seemed disinclined to try.


    Tizoc waved Totec forward, and the two of them whispered briefly. Then, Xiulote saw Totec''s face harden, he nodded firmly, his eyes shone coldly, and then he struck his chest hard with his left arm as a sign of commitment.


    After a long while, the tent finally quieted down. Tizoc nodded, and Totec walked to the center, stood behind a chest-high stone platform, and announced the King''s decision to the generals.


    "The King has decided to deploy two auxiliary forces to campaign against the Guamare and Pamus City-States. One force will be directly under the Royal Family, the other given to the City-State Alliance. Each force will dispatch eight thousand warriors, with at least a thousand Jaguar or Eagle Warrior Battalion members, all disguised in regular warrior attire."


    "Each force will additionally carry two thousand village warriors to transport provisions and spoils of war, prioritizing food among the spoils." Totec''s gaze focused on the faces of the city-state leaders, fierce until each leader nodded in agreement.


    "There are three objectives for this military campaign. First, to march directy to Guamare and Pamus City, demanding the city-states to submit tribute and sever alliances with the people of Otapan, and to withdraw the harassing militias. We demand their withdrawal primarily; the tributes are negotiable."


    "Second, if Guamare and Pamus are unwilling to withdraw their reinforcements, or to sever alliances, then our detached force will feign weakness to lure them out for battle."


    "Thirdly, if the Otomi people still cling to their burrows like rats," Totec paused, scanned his generals once more, then removed the obsidian war club from his back, "Macuahuitl," and then he raised it with both hands, muscles bulging, and forcefully swung it downward.


    Xiulote heard a loud boom as the stone platform in front of Totec suddenly exploded into fragments, dust rising into the air, shattered by a single strike.


    The generals were shocked, looking at Totec with eyes filled with fear and obedience.


    The dust clouded the form of the supreme commander. Xiulote couldn''t see his reddened eyes, but heard his biting voice distinctly enunciate, "Let the samurai obliterate all the villages, burn everything! Do not spare men, women, children, or elderly; this battle will not take prisoners, not a single person shall be left alive!"


    The generals looked at each other, speechless for a moment, then thunderously agreed, their intent to kill boiling over.


    Xiulote was horrified in his heart, as if seeing boundless blood rushing towards him.


    Since arriving in this world, Xiulote had found that, despite bloodthirsty sacrificial rites, the Aztec military never engaged in senseless killing.


    The Mexica samurai only captured sacrifices they could take away, then release the old, infirm, and non-threatening young to allow the villages to continue thriving and propagating.


    This was like Jaguars hunting; they only capture food necessary for survival and don''t needlessly kill for amusement like domestic cats. That would be a waste of sacrifices.


    The promotion of samurai also follows this rule, counting only the number of living warriors captured and opposing mere slaughter.


    Theologically, sacrifices are owned by the gods. Only lives offered in sacrificial rites could satisfy the gods'' demands. The world needs a continuous flow of sacrifices as fuel to maintain the movement of the sun.


    The Mexica samurai needed villages to continue thriving, needing a continual flow of sacrifices, it''s a realistic jungle law, where sacrifices are the food for survival. Unlike the armies of the Ming Dynasty, they do not massacre villages for wealth, avoiding the pressures of civil officials and leaving behind no survivors.


    On the other hand, sacrifices also have different levels. Sacrifices from divine descendants please the gods most, followed by the blood of nobility, ordinary warriors are acceptable, while lowly militia are just trivial additions.


    This was also why Xilotepec City would rather give up all its wealth than open its gates: offering three hundred noble divine descendants was far more valuable than three thousand commoners.


    Until now, the wars Xiulote experienced were low-intensity tributary wars, not like the brutal wars of cultural conquest seen during the rise of Yuan and Qing dynasties.


    He was already capable of facing war, yet he was not ready to face true brutality.


    But now, due to the threat to the supply line, the great army faced an existential crisis. The Mexica warriors, like hornets poked in their nest, burst out fiercely. They had to discard the principle of capturing sacrifices and adopt the cat''s utter brutality to confront the mice''s attacks.


    The generals dispersed from the tent, rallying elite warriors, shouldering gleaming war clubs, and taking enough obsidian blades for the fight.


    Xiulote was somewhat dazed. He was led forward by Aweit, his steps unsteady. In his daze, he saw his father striding towards him.


    Then, Xiuxoke hugged Xiulote tightly, and then lowered his head to his ear, "Xiulote, I know you have always been soft-hearted, but being soft-hearted is pointless, my son. You must embody the strength of a samurai!"


    "Life is merely a blossoming flower; all things will silently perish, and you will always witness bloodshed. The blood of commoners, blood of warriors, blood of nobility, blood of priests, even my blood, and your own!"


    "Samurai, are calm, considering death as their return journey," after saying this, Xiuxoke lowered his head, kissed his son''s forehead tenderly. Then another tight hug followed, before he turned and left. Nearby, Olosh looked at Xiulote worriedly but also turned and left.


    Finally, only Aweit remained; he glanced at Xiulote sideways, smiled faintly, and continued to stride forward, half-dragging the young man with him.

 Chapter 31 - 30 Negotiation

    ```


    The strong wind carried the chill of late December, with that unique desolation and solemnity of the autumn and winter seasons.


    In the tropical north of Mexico, there was no snow to cover up the cruelty of everything, only the golden-yellow beanstalks in the fields during the harvest season.


    The end of the year had arrived, and in the blink of an eye, it was the ominous day.


    Perhaps due to the pressure of food, the two detached forces quickly assembled and promptly took along provisions for more than a month.


    Twenty thousand troops headed north for two days, then split to go northwest and due north. Three thousand Samurai, nearly two thousand Militia, and the divine and merciless King Tizoc remained, sitting in their camp below the city of Otapan.


    Casal stayed in the Royal Family¡¯s camp, leading one thousand Jaguar Warrior Brigade and five hundred Tonsured Imperial Guards, ready for battle at any moment. King Tizoc was expecting that the City-State of Otapan would seize the opportunity to break out of the siege and then welcome this "surprise".


    Totec led eight thousand personal Samurai and two thousand Militia from his own villages, marching nonstop toward Guamare to the northwest.


    He had a wooden map, and every time a Scout discovered an Otomi village, he would use bright red dye to draw a circle at that location.


    Xiulote originally didn¡¯t want to join this campaign. He wanted to stay in the tent, calmly teaching his followers Chinese characters. Aweit, however, smiled and firmly pulled on his arm, dragging him out of the hut.


    All he could leave behind was a message, "You must study hard!" before he was relentlessly dragged away.


    Bertade chose sixty outstanding Samurai followers to accompany Xiulote. Ever since he invented the "beast" catapult, more and more low-ranking Samurai had defected to him; now he had over three hundred followers.


    Fortunately, the King now had no interest in such trivial matters.


    To maintain these followers, Xiulote had to periodically beg his father for help, and Xiuxoke, with a pleased face, agreed, and even sent more Samurai from the Holy City to act as the core force.


    After marching for half a month, the way was filled with undulating mountains and hills. At first there were dense woods, but the further north they went, the fewer the forests became, and the mountains progressively less steep.


    Xiulote could clearly see the hills and fields before him, as well as the faint smoke from the fields, with the impoverished mountain villages at the end.


    Half a month later, the legion finally arrived below the city of Guamare. By this time, Totec¡¯s wooden board was all marked with bright red.


    Guamare City was a typical Mountain city, built on a hill, with the base of its walls more than ten meters above the ground. Xiulote estimated that the city covered about four square kilometers, with the walls about four meters high. The not-so-high hills still effectively strengthened the city¡¯s defenses, also reducing the effectiveness of human-powered catapults by half.


    "Hilly terrain, forests, mountainous cities, plateau cities. It seems that even though the Otomi people are weak, they are not an easy target for conquest," Xiulote mused while looking at the City-State before him. "If the Empire were to launch a territorial war, who should be its first target?"


    Soon, figures began scurrying about on the walls of Guamare City. Aweit said that, excluding the support for Otapan, there were probably about five thousand Samurai and twenty thousand Militia in the city, a numerical strength on paper capable of battling the Mexica Samurai.


    The Mexica Legion marched to a position two miles from the city, with eight thousand Samurai putting aside their shields and War Clubs, casually eyeing those on the city walls. Two thousand Militia stayed behind to erect a basic encampment, guarding the provisions.


    Totec sent out an Envoy, waving a flag to signal, requesting a negotiation with those inside the city. After half an hour, the city gates opened slightly, and a group of Nobles and Priests hurried over. They were dressed in fine robes with Feather Crowns, obviously having taken time to attire themselves.


    The leader was a Noble, dressed in a black and white exquisite cotton robe, smiling. Next to the Noble followed an elder with an Obsidian crown. The old Priest was not tall, draped in a black and white striped Ritual Robe, looking grave.


    Totec stood in front of his legion, signaling Aweit to step forward for negotiations. Aweit then took his entourage, grabbed the youth dressed in Divine Descendant¡¯s Ritual Robe, and smiled as he approached.


    As both parties had just stopped a mile away from the city, Xiulote suddenly felt a chill. Looking up, he saw the elder Priest glaring at him with eyes that could carve one to pieces, or more precisely, at the Ritual Robe on him.


    The Noble from Guamare smiled, asking with a touch of respect, "Honorable leader of the Mexica people, descendant of the Sun God," only to be interrupted by an unsatisfied cough from the elderly Priest.


    ```


    The nobility¡¯s smile faltered before he continued, "I am a Divine Descendant Nobility from Guamare. What business brings the Mexica Samurai Brigade to the city of Guamare? We have always had friendly relations with the Mexica City-State Alliance, and our support for Otapan City was only due to the alliance pact, not the true intentions of Guamare City. If your Battle Group needs food and drink, the City-State can supply it in abundance."


    Aweit also gave a slight smile, "Descendants of the gods of day and night, the army has come this time firstly, to see the City-State of Guamare submit to the great Alliance by providing a symbolic tribute. Secondly, we request Guamare City withdraw its support from Otapan City and sever its alliance with Otapan."


    Before the nobility could speak, they heard the angry roar of the old Priest, "The Otomi people will never submit to the Mexica. Otapan City is the ancestral land of the Otomi and must not fall into the hands of the cruel Mexica heretics!"


    Aweit¡¯s expression turned cold as he declared loudly, "The great King Tizoc is leading us, and the mighty city of Xilotepec has already surrendered. Now, Otapan is on the brink of collapse, with a hundred thousand Samurai already having the Mountain City completely surrounded. After the city falls, whether it be Divine Descendants, Priests, or Nobility, all will be sacrificed to the Sun God."


    "The Mexica¡¯s great army, with its thundering behemoths, has been unstoppable wherever it has gone! The city of Guamare only has five thousand Samurai¡ªutterly defenseless against the might of the army!"


    Aweit paused briefly, then continued with a smile, "However, the city of Guamare is far too remote and barren for the benevolent King to take much interest in. The Mexica army¡¯s conquest will end at Otapan City."


    "As long as you show submission, offer a symbolic tribute, and call back your support troops from Otapan, you will enjoy the protection of the Alliance and live a calm and safe life on this land."


    "The status of the nobility will not change; the Southern Tarasco people will not dare to invade again, and the Alliance¡¯s trade caravans will continue to bring cotton, cocoa, feathers, gemstones, gold and silver jewelry, even the divine smoke of the Maya. Your lives will be more sacred and prosperous than before."


    Aweit spoke gently of a promising future, causing the nobility to waver visibly. He opened his mouth to say something, but then another roar filled his ears.


    "Deceitful Mexica coyotes! Do not deceive the children of the Primordial God with false promises of a future!" the old Priest shouted angrily, like the agitated groundhog of Xiulote¡¯s memories.


    "Over a hundred years ago, it was the cruel Mexica who drove us from our fertile and rich valleys to the barren North. You ruthlessly took the sacred Ritual Plate of Xilotepec City and now seek to make the Otomi betray their ancient faith. You heretics! Now, you won¡¯t even leave our ancestral lands be. The Primordial God will bring down Divine Punishment on you!"


    "You can¡¯t really have a proper conversation with a religiously fanatical Priest," Xiulote thought.


    Aweit paid no attention to the Priest, instead attempting to continue persuading the nobility. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Otapan City is the foundation of us Otomi in the North, the home of all our City-States." Seeing that Aweit was ignoring him, the old Priest calmed down and turned to the Divine Descendant Nobility to say, "Chichimec people, Tarasco people, Mexica people, Tescoco people¡ªno matter how many times foreign tribes came to invade with overwhelming force, we have always relied on the fortifications of Otapan City to survive. Once the foreigners retreat, we can recover our lands."


    "Once Otapan falls, the Mexica will definitely sacrifice all the Otomi Divine Descendants, Nobility, and Samurai within the city, then relocate their own Divine Descendant Nobility. In a few decades, when the Mexica¡¯s Otapan City stands in the North, where will there be a place for us Otomi Nobility and Priests? Conquest will come once more, and by then, we will have nowhere to retreat to!"


    The Priest¡¯s words clearly moved the leading Divine Descendant Nobility, whose expression turned grave as he nodded slightly and gave a salute to the Priest.


    Aweit¡¯s face then went cold, issuing a chilling threat in a loud voice, "If Guamare City persists in its folly, the army will show no mercy! Every village under the city¡¯s rule will be reduced to ashes in the flames. Wealth will be looted, the land will be left desolate, and the Otomi people will fall, wailing, until every last person within the city is sacrificed!"


    Upon hearing this, the old Priest¡¯s emotions surged as he waved his Divine Staff. Xiulote felt he could explode at any moment, and the warriors on both sides drew their War Clubs and shielded their leaders with their shields.


    After a moment, the Priest eventually calmed down, speaking coldly, "The Primordial God protects us! With the forces you have, you cannot conquer the city of Guamare."


    "Let the outer villages be destroyed if need be. The commoners are but the wild grasses of the fields; even if the great fires reduce them to ash, come spring, they will grow anew. As long as we hold the city, one day, the land will be filled with commoners once more."


    "Otapan City is the cocoa tree planted by the Primordial God, and the Divine Descendants and Nobility are the cocoa gifted by the deity. Once the cocoa tree is cut down, the Otomi will be forsaken by the god and then face extinction."


    "Even if you burn the grass of the fields, it¡¯s better to preserve the sacred cocoa!" the groundhog-like old Priest roared lastly, before leaving with the nobility under Aweit¡¯s gaze filled with murderous intent.


    Hearing this, Xiulote fell into deep thought, "It seems that to all ruling classes of this era, the commoners are just expendable. This must be determined by the power disparity between Samurai and commoners. How can I change this?"


    Aweit shook his head and turned to return to report to Totec. The hard Supreme Commander was unsurprised as he brought out a wooden board marked with red circles.


    Peaceful negotiations had failed; what remained was only blood and fire.

 Chapter 32 - 31 Fishing

    The sun gradually sank toward the west, tinting the sky a pale gold.


    Xiulote sat cross-legged on the hilltop, gazing at the distant wisps of cooking smoke. Below him lay the golden village at sunset and the golden bean fields amid the countryside, all so tranquil.


    Yet in that tranquility, time seeped through. The golden clouds silently deepened, turning into rows of red billows. Before long, as the sunset gave way to darkness, Xiulote looked up again to see nothing but a blood-red sky.


    The negotiations with Guamare had been fruitless. Noticing it was already afternoon, Totec decided not to rush to dispatch troops for plunder but ordered the samurai to join the militia. They constructed a large camp on the hills a few miles away from the city.


    The troops then rested peacefully as if completely unaware of danger, waiting for the distant guests to arrive. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A quiet night passed without incident.


    The next morning, Xiulote rose early, donning a light robe, and went to find Aweit who was still sleeping, to inquire about the plans for the day.


    Aweit, sleep-filled eyes: "Xiulote, don¡¯t disturb me. I¡¯ve been lying in ambush all night without catching anything. Just let me get some proper sleep now."


    "Aweit, what¡¯s the plan for today? Is the army really going to disperse and plunder the villages?" Xiulote didn¡¯t wear his feather crown, revealing his delicate facial features, youthful cheeks, resolute profile, and stubborn eyes. To onlookers, he appeared as a strange and handsome youth.


    The youth was now sitting cross-legged at the head of Aweit¡¯s bed. After waiting a while with no reply, he thought for a moment and then stretched out his finger to poke his teacher and good friend¡¯s nose.


    Aweit¡¯s nose twitched, followed by an irresistible sneeze, finally waking up. "Hey, Xiulote, stop it. Plundering the villages is certain but wait, there¡¯s another plan. Just follow me and we¡¯ll go ¡¯fishing¡¯ together," he said.


    After finished speaking, he covered his head with a thin cotton blanket and turned over to fall back into a deep sleep.


    Xioloute, slightly helpless, could only stand up and return to his own tent. He put on his feather crown and Tengu ritual attire, transforming into a solemn and noble priest. Then he sat cross-legged in the center of the camp, waiting for the supreme commander¡¯s orders.


    Soon, the warriors of the camp were roused into activity. Xiulote first saw a thousand warriors don their tiger-patterned feathered helmets and tiger-patterned leather armors, regaining their identities as Jaguar Warriors. Next, he watched two thousand militiamen don the warriors¡¯ tunics and uneven leather armor, hastily leaving the camp under the leadership of true samurai.


    Subsequently, Totec called out five thousand-man samurai camps one after another, each dispersing in different directions. Thus, only one thousand Jaguar Warrior Brigade and two warrior camps remained in the campsite. As seen from the head of Guamare, the camp held only one thousand warriors and two thousand militiamen.


    Totec then had a dozen warriors carry bright banners to the nearest hilltop to wait. The moment they saw the Jaguar Warrior Brigade moving out from the camp, they were to immediately raise the flags calling the ambush.


    It was now noon. Only when the first whiff of smoke rose from a nearby village did Aweit wake up, leisurely washed up, and stepped out, draped in his formal Sun Stone cloak, smiling as he walked towards Xiulote.


    Xiulote was in a heavy mood as he watched the not-so-distant village.


    By then, the flames had burst into a blaze, thick smoke billowed from the fierce fire, and though far away one could see figures darting about and the silhouettes of warriors swinging their weapons. Shadows kept falling to the ground in the field of vision, while distant wails and cries drifted on the wind. Finally, scattered groups broke through the smoke-filled haze and ran toward Guamare, several miles away.


    Xiulote stood up, watching the smoke grow thicker around him, as more and more civilians fled toward Guamare. He felt an inexplicable ache in his heart, but no words came, and soon Aweit grabbed his shoulder.


    "Oh, Xiulote, my student, is your heart made of soft cotton?" Having spent much time with the youth, Aweit had become increasingly informal. He spoke with a chuckle, "You feel sorry seeing the Otomi suffer, look at you! This isn¡¯t the indifferent and fair God of Death and Rebirth, Xiulotel. You¡¯re more like the kind and weeping Goddess of Rivers and Lakes, Xalchiuhtlicue."


    Xiulote looked towards Totec¡¯s direction, pursing his lips in silence. He wanted to speak with the supreme commander to plead for mercy for the women and children.


    "Don¡¯t go. Totec is not in the mood to discuss these villagers with you now," Aweit said with a laugh, placing his other hand on the youth¡¯s shoulder so they faced each other. "Don¡¯t worry, today¡¯s target isn¡¯t the villages."


    "From the outside, it looks lively, but it¡¯s just one or two hundred warriors leading two thousand militiamen to set fires; not many people will die. If they were really attacking, why would they let so many escape to Guamare?"


    Xiulote was taken aback, slowly calming the emotional turmoil from a past life. This feeling, though less frequent, was still deeply etched in his soul, indelible. Deep inside, there remained a softness, and that was his greatest difference from everyone else in this era.


    After a moment of reflection, Xiulote asked calmly, "Is it a bait? Have we set an ambush? Was it your idea?"


    Aweit looked approvingly at Xiulote. "Correct, that¡¯s my idea. Right now, three thousand warriors are lying in wait in the camp, a thousand of them Jaguars. Two thousand warriors are hidden in the hills behind the left and right sides of the camp, half an hour away. And there¡¯s another thousand warriors waiting in the forest half an hour outside of Guamare. Everything is ready, just waiting for the fish to bite."


    After that, Xiulote and Aweit sat with legs stretched out in the middle of the camp, leaning against the central tent, quietly waiting for the big fish to take the bait. Meanwhile, Totec stood in the distance like a statue.


    A thousand Jaguar Warriors also sat quietly inside dozens of central tents, placing their javelins and shields at their feet, and war clubs on their backs, looking relaxed as they conserved their energy.


    On the left and right sides of the camp, a thousand warriors each, half lay low and quiet while the other half appeared lax in their guard. The Mexica warriors waited in silence.


    In expectation, the biggest catch they hoped for was five thousand Otomi warriors and twenty thousand militiamen from the city joining the attack. This was the maximum load of the net.


    If the Otomi people were to mobilize their entire army, the three thousand warriors at the camp would immediately take their positions to defend the stronghold and call for reinforcements from the hilltop. Then, five thousand warriors would ambush from three sides and finally converge below the camp to completely crush the enemy.


    At this moment, no one knew whether the fish would bite or how big it might be. Xiulote simply watched as the thick smoke lingered in the distance, with the sun setting towards the west.


    It wasn¡¯t until the sun slanted westward, just over an hour from sunset, that Xiulote heard a sudden burst of noise. The city-state a few miles away flung open its gates, and more than two thousand warriors swarmed toward their camp.


    Totec finally made a move. After observing for a while, he first ordered one thousand Mexica warriors to hold the stronghold tightly, watching as outside Otomi warriors broke through the wooden palisade and breached the wooden gate, then clashed with the guards at the breach.


    Then Totec waited a full quarter of an hour, witnessing dozens of warriors from both sides fall to the ground, seeing the gates of Guamare City close, with no more people coming out. Only then did he wave his hand, commanding Aweit and the Jaguar Warriors to get ready.


    Aweit let out a sigh of disappointment and said to Xiulote, "There must be an old fox inside the Guamare city-state; the ones they¡¯ve sent out are all plainly dressed, simply adorned militia warriors, likely related to the villages outside the city. Almost all the nobility warriors are hiding within the city walls."


    Xiulote thought for a moment, inexplicably recalling a roaring figure, and chuckled, "Perhaps it¡¯s an old groundhog instead."


    Aweit also laughed and said, "No matter what, since the fish has taken the bait, it¡¯s time for us to reel it in."


    Soon after, Aweit gathered the Jaguar Warriors in the center of the camp. These ace warriors and nobility with military honors ranged in age from their thirties to forties, in their prime of experience and martial strength. They held shields in their left hands and javelin throwers, inserted with javelins, in their right hands, ready for battle.


    Seeing the Jaguar Warriors mobilize, the warriors on the hilltop immediately raised the flag to summon reinforcements. The ambushing forces from the rear approached the camp at once, while the ambushers on the flank headed straight for the gates of Guamare City, which they could reach in just half an hour.


    Totec commanded the warriors at the gate to retreat to the sides, and more than one thousand Otomi warriors poured in. The first Otomi warrior regiment at the camp formed a bulging semicircle at the front.


    Seeing the enemy¡¯s concentrated protrusion, Aweit forcefully signaled, and the sound of the war drums striking for attack instantly erupted. The Jaguar Warriors, arranged in squads of a hundred, charged in rows toward the entrance, hurling pointed wooden javelins, then inserting their javelin throwers at their waists and rapidly drew out their war clubs to confront the enemy on both sides.


    With a distance of twenty to thirty meters, the javelins whistled through the air at their highest speed, tearing through the Otomi warriors¡¯ leather armor in an instant, some even piercing through and out, stabbing the arms of warriors behind. Those hit by the javelins immediately fell like fawns, some dying on the spot, others struggling on the ground.


    Xiulote was stunned by the power of the close-range mass javelin attack. By the time one thousand Jaguar Warriors finished throwing their javelins, two hundred Otomi warriors had fallen dead at the gate, with a frightfully high hit rate.


    The quick twenty percent casualties in a short span sent the morale of the first Otomi warrior regiment within the camp plummeting. With the Jaguar Warriors joining the fight, their superb martial arts, terrifying tiger-head emblems, and dreadful roars continued to attack the morale of the Otomi warriors, pushing those who had entered the camp to the brink of collapse.


    Seizing the opportunity, Totec immediately ordered the last thousand warriors, who had been lying in wait with flags down and drums silent, to deploy from the damaged sides of the palisade, attempting to pin the two thousand hooked warriors from the opposite direction. This would create a perfect annihilation battle when the ambushing forces arrived.


    The news that large groups of Jaguar Warrior Brigades had appeared quickly spread among the Otomi warriors. The morale of the second warrior regiment outside the camp also plummeted rapidly.


    Upon seeing the five hundred Mexica warriors emerging from left and right, trying to stick to the sides, and the approaching ambushing troops in the distance, the camp chief of the second regiment, born of military nobility, quickly realized the gravity of the situation and decisively blew the retreat horn.


    The second regiment¡¯s Otomi warriors immediately began retreating in panic but proficiently, swiftly scattering to all sides, ruthlessly abandoning the first regiment within the camp.


    The first Otomi warrior regiment had already suffered heavy losses under the javelins and was now fiercely holding back the charge of one thousand elite Jaguar Warrior Brigade at the narrow camp entrance. Once their flanks were exposed, the Mexica warriors from left and right pincered, and the first regiment¡¯s morale collapsed immediately.


    The Otomi warriors dropped their war clubs and fled, then under a three-sided assault melted away like snow. The battle quickly moved into the phase of a rout. The three thousand warriors charged out from the camp, on one hand killing the first regiment¡¯s Otomi warriors unilaterally, on the other hand in hot pursuit of the second regiment.


    By then, not even a quarter of an hour had passed since the Jaguar Warriors¡¯ offensive, and the ambushing warriors had yet to catch up to the battle. Only half the planned fish were caught.


    The pursuit lasted only a quarter of an hour before the sky turned completely dark, and the Otomi warriors, taking advantage of the night, disappeared into the familiar woods; the Mexica could only reluctantly give up the chase.


    After a quarter of an hour standoff at the camp, two quarters of an hour for the Jaguar Warriors¡¯ strike, and one quarter of an hour of pursuit¡ªthis battle lasted merely an hour. The Mexica suffered fewer than fifty casualties, including three Jaguar Warriors.


    The Otomi left behind more than three hundred low-ranking warriors¡¯ bodies and over five hundred prisoners, with more than a thousand scattering into the darkness, likely to return to Guamare City at some point during the night.


    Aweit and Xiulote exchanged glances, their bittersweet smiles speaking volumes. Such a large net was cast, yet only small fish and shrimp were caught.


    Aweit took a deep breath, "That old fox is ruthless, calculating even the timing, using so many warriors as cannon fodder."


    Xiulote nodded in agreement, "The old groundhog is truly cruel, now the city will surely hold out to the end, no longer venturing into battle."


    Both sighed in unison, one for the warriors within the city, the other for the civilians outside it.


    As night deepened, stars sparkled in the sky. Everyone was lost in the beauty of the night, momentarily forgetting everything.


    Thus, the night passed without incident, marked only by a simple funeral.

 Chapter 33 - 32: Rescue

    The morning sunlight illuminated the entire world, and the gentle breeze woke the sleeping people. It was as if the Feathered Serpent Divine had bestowed light and wisdom, promising peace and prosperity to all things.


    Xiulote knew that today was an auspicious day. According to the Aztec Calendar, it was the twelfth day of the first month of the new year, representing herbs and salvation, symbolized by the herbs in a bone basin, belonging to the divine jurisdiction of the Feathered Serpent Divine Quetzalcoatl. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote rose early. He was dressed in the formal attire of a priest, and his feather crown once again covered his forehead, this time additionally adorned with blue, red, and green feathers.


    The Feathered Serpent Divine is one of the four most important deities, the Wind God, the god of peace and prosperity, of light and wisdom, lord of the West. On the first divine day of the new year, a sacrificial rite had to be held for him. And in the prosperous city-states, this sacrifice often evolved into a New Year¡¯s celebration.


    In accordance with his priestly duties, Xiulote constructed an altar in the west, then placed a golden disc with a diameter of one foot in the center to symbolize light. Around the disc, he arranged a neat circle of turquoise to symbolize wisdom.


    Afterwards, he placed silver bowls at the four corners of the altar, each containing herbs to symbolize healing and salvation. Finally, he inserted blue, red, and green feathers below the golden disc, to signify the embodiment of the Feathered Serpent Divine.


    Thus, a simple altar for the Feathered Serpent Divine was completed.


    In times of war, all is simplified; in the city-states, the ceremonies were much grander. Xiulote had once attended the New Year¡¯s celebration in Teotihuacan. On that day, Moon Plaza would be covered with gold, silver, gemstones, and bright feathers, thousands of people dancing and singing songs of blessing together, old and young, in a scene so beautiful and memorable.


    Afterward, the warriors would gather below the stage, laying down their weapons and shedding their leather armor to pay their respects to the Feathered Serpent Divine. They prayed for the wounded to recover and the dying to be saved.


    Then Xiulote ascended the stage, chanting the song of the sacrificial rite, his voice passionate and clear, drifting into the distance, like the waves of the Eastern Great Lake:


    "...Ultimately, the Feathered Serpent Divine left the crying people,


    aboard a raft of green snakes,


    carrying the devout priests,


    sailing into the endless Great Lake,


    towards the distant East.


    He bestowed upon them a sorrowful promise:


    The flowers of prosperity will return every spring,


    just as I, who bless you, shall.


    Parting is but a brief withering,


    I shall return from the waters of the East,


    bringing back peace and prosperity,


    bringing back light and wisdom,


    to save you once more!"


    Not until the chant was finished did the warriors collectively turn eastward and kneel to the ground. They softly called out the name "Quetzalcoatl," praying for the return of the Feathered Serpent Divine. Then, the rite came to an end in silence.


    Xiulote wiped the slight sweat from his forehead and took a drink of water. The ceremony had a peaceful, almost mass-like quality to it.


    The Feathered Serpent Divine was one of the rarer benevolent deities in the Aztec mythology, disliking bloodshed for his sake and expressly opposing human sacrifice. Hence, the Mexica warriors did not drag out the Otomi captives from the day before and offer them directly to the deity.


    But in the eyes of Supreme Commander Totec, the fate of these captives was already sealed. The Mexica warriors had only wandered in a peaceful and serene spiritual world for a morning before they were brought back to the bloody world of war.


    Totec first assembled the warriors in formation, prepared to fight at any moment. Then he had a thousand warriors escort over five hundred captured Otomi Warriors to a location an arrow¡¯s flight away from the city of Guamare, where they were executed in front of the defending army. A distant wail and a scream arose, soon giving way to silence.


    Xiulote lowered his eyes; his principles had already retreated a great deal. He could accept the execution of enemy warriors without a change of expression. As his father had said, once on the battlefield, it was up to fate to decide the life and death of the samurai.


    Totec¡¯s face hardened, and his brows furrowed slightly. Though the city ramparts were briefly in chaos, the enemy troops did not sally forth. So, the plan to lure the enemy was over, and what followed was the destruction of all the villages.


    The commander then instructed a thousand Jaguars and two thousand warriors to continue garrisoning the camp. This force of three thousand would be led personally by him to watch over the city of Guamare.


    Xiulote watched as Totec settled into his tent, detachedly pulling out the wooden map board marked with red circles, dividing the remaining five thousand warriors and two thousand militia into seven camps. He pointed to seven positions on the map, and the warriors, with a cruel determination, nodded and left.


    As if a great deal of time had passed, Xiulote saw smoke rising in the distance; no sound came on the wind, and the world seemed still peaceful. After a very long while, the warriors returned one by one in formation, with a slight sweat on their faces, as if they had simply gone out for a run.


    Their expressions were unchanged, replacing the worn obsidian blades on their war clubs, as blood trickled out from the weapons¡¯ crevices.


    From the rise of thick smoke to the return of the warriors, not a single figure had fled towards the city of Guamare. Everything was like a silent pantomime; lives vanished in the aftermath, without causing the slightest ripple.


    Totec drew red crosses over the seven red circles, conversed briefly with the warriors, glanced through a gap in the tent at the midday sun, and then divided the seven thousand into fourteen groups of five hundred. The warriors dispersed once again.


    Seeing all this, the young priest finally grew restless.


    Xiulote mustered the courage to walk into the tent and stand before the cold Totec, grabbing the Supreme Commander¡¯s strong arm, as a pair of merciless and icy eyes stared back at him.

 Chapter 34 - 32 Rescue_2

    "What¡¯s the matter, Xiulote?" Totec¡¯s cold face lit up with a hint of a smile, "The sacrificial rite was well conducted today."


    "Supreme Commander, today is the first divine day of the Feathered Serpent, and on this auspicious day for celebrating the New Year, we should not create so much bloodshed."


    "Hmm?" Totec frowned, "Are you suggesting we leave the village till tomorrow before destroying it? But we¡¯ve already started; if we delay till tomorrow, more people will escape."


    "What I¡¯m saying is that we can show mercy. Warriors and able-bodied men are potential threats, but we can spare the women and children," Xiulote said earnestly.


    "The King¡¯s command is to kill all Otomi people," Totec shook his head, "Xiulote, don¡¯t be childish, you are a priest."


    Then, without waiting for Xiulote to continue, Totec grabbed Xiulote by the arm, pointing towards the distant Ping Shan City, "Can your catapult take down Guamare City?"


    Xiulote looked at the city and shook his head, "The current power of the catapult is not enough. Although it can reach the city, its force is limited."


    Totec nodded, "We also don¡¯t have the time to lay siege. Since we can¡¯t take down the city, we must burn down the villages and farmlands!"


    As he spoke, he turned his body to gaze earnestly at the youth: "Xiulote, the Otomi people do not deserve sympathy! Use the time to conduct more sacrificial activities for the warriors or study that catapult thoroughly."


    After that, he waved his hand, signaling the guards to take Xiulote out of the tent.


    Xiulote wandered a few steps outside the tent, then suddenly thought of someone and hurried off.


    Entering a side tent, Xiulote saw Aweit sitting cross-legged in front of an earthen platform, writing something on a wooden board. Occasionally, messengers and scouts would come and go, reporting on military affairs.


    Xiulote moved closer to see and was startled¡ªthe wooden board was filled with neat traditional characters: "Found 198 villages along the way, expecting to burn 21 today; the mission can be completed and return within ten days..."


    Seeing Xiulote, Aweit smiled and pointed to the board, "How about that, my writing is pretty good, isn¡¯t it?"


    Xiulote nodded. In just a few months, Aweit had managed to write Chinese characters without any errors, which truly was impressive.


    Then, Xiulote asked anxiously, "Aweit, the Supreme Commander wants to kill all the Otomi people. Can we be merciful?"


    With a smile, Aweit replied, "Xiulote, don¡¯t you know that the Otomi are our enemies? If we let the Otomi militia escape into the woods, the Mexica warriors will suffer heavy losses."


    Xiulote nodded in response, "I understand. I wasn¡¯t talking about the Otomi men; I meant the women and children."


    "Oh! I see." Aweit laughed heartily, his eyebrows curving in two soaring arcs. "After the New Year, you¡¯re already thirteen years old, the age when you long to become an adult."


    "How about this, I will talk to Totec and have the warriors bring you a few Otomi girls to change you from a boy to a man, then you won¡¯t be so soft-hearted."


    Xiulote was left feeling dry-mouthed, his face reddened by Aweit¡¯s teasing. This guy could really do it.


    "Look, although priests cannot marry, as long as you take these Otomi girls as concubines, they will be saved," Aweit continued persuasively, "The great Montezuma I, he had hundreds of concubines and fathered over a hundred Divine Descendant warriors. You can also take a hundred Otomi girls as well."


    Xiulote was stunned for a moment, then stood rooted to the spot, mulling over things. His intelligence had become a negative number in the day¡¯s ordeal; now he was counting on his fingers, murmuring to himself, pondering exactly how many girls he should save.


    Seeing Xiulote seriously getting lost in thought, Aweit became concerned again.


    He reached out and flicked Xiulote¡¯s forehead hard, saying seriously, "Xiulote, what are you thinking about! Our Mexica warriors are not like those weaker tribes; the warriors¡¯ coming-of-age rituals are after the age of fifteen, and the excellent ones even later."


    "My student, too much frolicking too early will seriously harm the body¡¯s vitality, diminish the intelligence of the brain, and drain the life force given by the Heavenly Divine. Those renowned Jaguar warriors often refine their bodies and suppress the desire for revelry until the age of twenty! Xiulote, I hope you will not be drawn to the opposite sex¡¯s pleasures before the age of eighteen," Aweit said, sobering up.


    "But I really want to save the innocent women and children," Xiulote insisted, holding his gaze firmly.


    "There are no innocent people in this world; everyone has a reason to die. Women will weave and farm, nurturing children. Children will grow up and take up arms to kill." sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Give me a reason, but not the same old talk about the sanctity and equality of life," Aweit said seriously. "If you can convince me, I¡¯ll convince Totec."


    Xiulote began to think calmly.


    "We could take them captive and bring them back to the Alliance," Xiulote answered.


    "We don¡¯t have enough food, and we don¡¯t have the manpower to spare watching over them."


    "It would take these women and children a decade or more to pose a threat to us," Xiulote added.


    "Indeed, but what about after that decade or more?"


    "In a decade or more, we will be powerful enough to thoroughly conquer the Otomi, turning these commoners into citizens of the Alliance," Xiulote said with some confidence.


    Aweit looked at Xiulote and gave a slight nod but then said, "Maybe that¡¯s the first reason. But for now, I can¡¯t see the benefit of letting these people go. Any other reasons?"


    "We could take these people captive and then take them to the gates of Guamare City, to exchange them for food. The army is currently short of food," Xiulote said.


    "What if the City-State doesn¡¯t offer food in exchange?"


    "Then we let them go, and the City-State will have lost the hearts of the people."


    "What do the hearts of the commoners amount to?" Aweit laughed, "But to trade for some food isn¡¯t bad. That¡¯s the second reason. But why should I help these commoners? Give me another reason."


    Aweit watched Xiulote¡¯s eyes, as if waiting for something.


    Xiulote pondered back and forth and after a while he said, "This is my personal belief, valuing life is not the natural order of this world, but it is my preference, and it satisfies my heart."


    "Oh? But we executed their husbands and fathers, they won¡¯t be grateful to you."


    "I don¡¯t need their gratitude, I just need to find peace and satisfaction in my heart," Xiulote replied softly, but it seemed to take all his strength.


    "So, my student, this is just a preference of yours, right? It is not the natural order that you should follow; preferences must serve the greater cause," Aweit asked gently, as if with a hypnotic charm.


    "Yes, it¡¯s just my preference, unrelated to the natural order of the world; it serves the greater cause," Xiulote repeated laboriously.


    "Good, very good! Valuing life is Xiulote¡¯s preference. These thousands of commoners are mere ants; how can they compare with the growth of my student! This third reason, this is the real reason that moved me!"


    Aweit finally clapped his hands and laughed, "Xiulote, remember what you said today. No matter what the memories of the past are. Life and equality are just your preferences, just as some people lust, some crave war, some love wine, it¡¯s simply a more benevolent preference."


    "When conditions allow, one can act on their preferences. But preferences must submit to the greater cause; they are not the bottom line."


    "The bottom line must not be breached, or it becomes a weakness, and weakness leads to death. Unlike ordinary people, a great ruler can never have weaknesses. So, Xiulote, whatever is in your memory, forget the weak part! This is the most important lesson I teach you!" Aweit insisted, pressing Xiulote¡¯s shoulders firmly, looking intently at him, his eyes full of expectation.


    "And as rulers, our only cause is this nation, the future of the Mexica, the supreme power of this world!" Whispering the last sentence, Aweit finally burst into laughter, his laughter filled with hidden ambition and longing.


    He gave Xiulote a firm hug, turned around, and strode away, heading for Totec¡¯s tent.


    Xiulote still stood there; he was about to take the first and hardest step towards becoming a great ruler.

 Chapter 35 - 33 War and Peace

    The dry season, the mild sunlight, the lush forests, the rolling mountains. Otomi villages were always nestled in the valleys among the mountains, gathering flowing springs that moistened the barren bean fields. A shallow fence circled around the village to fend off the attacks of coyotes outside. Inside, small enclosures were made to rear turkeys and native dogs.


    These simple defenses were meaningless to the samurai. The villagers, trapped by their hamlets like birds tethered by their feet, could only emit powerless cries under the pounce of a cat.


    Soon, both the village and the fields turned into flames, with women and children being driven away, leaving only the black smoke that screened the sun. Such was the cruel nature of war.


    Xiulote followed with a troop of two hundred men, silently observing everything before him. His weltanschauung, like blocks of iron, was continuously hammered, changed, and forged into steel.


    He did not know how Aweit had persuaded the Supreme Commander. It might have been food, perhaps efficiency, possibly friendship, or maybe even the future. The next morning, Totec changed the plan. He divided the samurai into squads of two hundred men, burned down villages, executed the males, but spared the women and children, aiming to drive them toward Guamare City as much as possible.


    The pace of destruction swiftly accelerated, and after several more days, all villages within a two-day distance from Guamare had vanished, and the camp was overwhelmed with thousands of starving women and children, constantly eroding the Otomi¡¯s potential for warfare.


    Aweit sent envoys to negotiate with Guamare City; the scene turned chaotic, reaching no agreement whatsoever.


    At night, Xiulote saw envoys stealthily arrive at the camp; then, sacks of food were hoisted down from the city walls. After receiving two weeks¡¯ rations for eight thousand people, Totec nodded in satisfaction.


    The next morning, the army prepared to break camp. Before leaving, Xiulote took one last look at Guamare City. The priests in black and white robes were also on the city walls, watching the withdrawing Mexica legion below.


    From afar, the young coyote priest and the old black and white priest looked at each other but could only see vague dots and hear no sounds, their emotions complex and swirling.


    Xiulote shook his head and turned to leave but then saw a young follower samurai, using a wooden shovel, dig a small pit in the ground. He then placed a small cotton bundle into the pit and buried it. Something was vaguely wrapped inside the bundle.


    Finally, the young samurai knelt on the ground, prayed toward the sun, and chanted the name of "Huitzilopochtli."


    Looking surprised, Xiulote asked the young warrior, "My warrior, what ritual is this?"


    The follower respectfully replied, "Honored priest, this is not an official ritual. Before joining the war last year, I had just had a son. The bundle contains his umbilical cord, which I have been carrying with me." S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This might be the farthest battlefield I reach. According to the custom of warriors, I¡¯ve buried my son¡¯s umbilical cord here to seek the War God¡¯s protection. This way, when he grows up, he can become a mighty Mexica samurai, follow the Mexica legion, and once again step onto this land to completely conquer the Otomi people."


    "The custom of warriors, huh..." Xiulote murmured, then nodded to the samurai, "The great Guardian God shall bless you and your son! We shall return."


    The legion then set out, burning down the camp outside Guamare City, releasing the useless captives, and heading toward Otapan City.


    The returning Mexica legion turned into a squid, with samurai squads extending like tentacles and returning continuously; along the way were burning flames, fields turned to ash, and scattered women and children.


    "Within twenty years, the Guamare City-State will no longer pose a threat," Aweit said while walking and watching the fires along the way, unable to stop himself from exclaiming, "As they can neither gather enough food for war nor enough manpower for logistics, even if they still have samurai, they can only stay in the city."


    "But there are other Otomi city-states farther west," Xiulote pondered.


    "That¡¯s too far away. Even if they send samurai, the food supply must come from Guamare," Aweit laughed, "Not to mention, seeing the plight of Guamare, the smaller city-states of Tlacaelel might not dare continue to wage war."


    Xiulote nodded; this was also a form of deterrence.


    "How¡¯s the situation on the King¡¯s side?" Xiulote asked curiously.


    "It¡¯s the same old story," Aweit shook his head. "The people of Otapan just won¡¯t come out. The King was a bit impatient and tried attacking once, shooting up from the base of the mountain. The ladders didn¡¯t even reach the top of the walls before the stones were hurled down continuously. They managed to climb once, but the ladders were quickly pushed over, and the leading Samurai were gone. It¡¯s estimated that over 400 Samurai and 500 Militia fell, with even more injured."


    Xiulote also shook his head, "Another battalion gone. These mountain cities can¡¯t be taken by force, the King has gone mad this time."


    "Ha ha," Aweit chuckled softly. "Without Totec, just the King alone is not good at waging war. Casal is too greedy for merits, not a qualified Commander-in-Chief in a siege."


    "Indeed," Xiulote pondered the King¡¯s religious fanaticism, and his grandfather¡¯s song offering.


    "After all, it¡¯s a problem of the supply lines. The efficiency through the forests and mountains is too low," Xiulote stated."


    "I remember that to the west of the Capital, there is the Lema River, following the highland and flowing west past the Mexica City-State of Tepanecapan, then further west past the border of Otomi and Tarasco people, and it can reach the southern border of Otapan City-State, and even to the southern forests of Guamare City-State."


    "This river is, at its shortest, less than a week¡¯s journey through the mountains from Otapan City. If we could utilize this river, then the Otomi people wouldn¡¯t be able to threaten our supply lines," analyzed Xiulote, pondering a potential breakthrough.


    Aweit turned towards the south, where mountains and rivers lay, beyond which was the territory of the Tarasco people.


    "This route is indeed the shortest," agreed Aweit. "But the Lema River runs right under the noses of the Tarasco people. Their legions could arrive at any time."


    "We cannot place the critical nodes of our food supplies here, otherwise once the Tarasco declare war, the army would be cut off from its supplies."


    "What if we maintain two supply lines simultaneously?" Xiulote mused.


    "That¡¯s the current crucial factor, we can¡¯t ascertain the stance of the Tarasco people, we don¡¯t want to provoke them," Aweit tapped his forehead lightly. "Scouts found that Tarasco legions are rallying on the northern borders with the Otomi people. Most likely they plan to invade the weakened Otomi, but we also need to stay cautious."


    "Actually, more than the movements of the Tarasco people, I¡¯m more concerned about the actions of our archenemies in the Alliance, the people of Tlaxcala. This war has lingered far too long now. All the nearby powers have been mobilized, always ready for battle."


    Xiulote was also concerned, but such worries couldn¡¯t change the overall situation.


    "Perhaps, retreating is the best option."


    The return trip of more than half a month passed quickly. Accompanied by black smoke along the way, the Mexica legion relentlessly destroyed the roots of the Otomi people and plundered the food supplies en route.


    When the formidable mountain city was once again in sight, Xiulote¡¯s body and spirit were both tired. The legion swiftly returned to the siege camp, and Totec ordered its disbandment.


    Xiulote, dragging his weary body, returned to his familiar hut with Bertade¡¯s assistance.


    The moment he entered the hut, he finally relaxed, threw off his Feather Crown, and yawned heavily. Then he took out a wooden board, drew and wrote on it. Afterward, letting go of the pen, he lay back on the deer skin rug and fell into a deep sleep.


    Bertade gently lifted Xiulote onto the bed, gazing at the young boy¡¯s sleeping face, he smiled gently. He then covered the young boy with a thin cotton quilt.


    Then he picked up the wooden board from the table. On the left was a drawing of a black Tengu, and on the right, a tri-colored Feathered Serpent, with a line of text underneath.


    "War¡­ and¡­ peace," Bertade read the characters one by one, then couldn¡¯t help but exclaim with a sense of admiration, "Priest truly is a studious person."

 Chapter 36 - 34 A Day in Xiulote

    The breeze scattered through the mountains, caressing the fresh buds on the treetops and bringing with it moist vapor, in what was the budding month of April. The siege had already lasted half a year; the dry season on the highlands had passed, and the new rainy season had not yet arrived. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After returning to the main encampment of the siege, Xiulote initially rested in his hut for a few days, then his father, Xiuxoke, came to visit him and they exchanged information about the campaign.


    The northern city of Pamus had almost been burned to the ground, and many nomadic Chichimec had moved south. After Guamare and the City-State of Pamus were devastated, the attacks by the Otomi on the army rapidly weakened, and the number of militia significantly decreased.


    Although the guerrilla tactics of the Otomi were still ongoing, their intensity had diminished from flies to mosquitoes. The casualties among Mexica warriors dropped to just over a hundred each month. The warriors of the City-State remained somewhat discontented, but it was still within the limits of endurance. The supply of food had caught up with consumption, and the stockpiles in the camp began to increase.


    The days of the siege seemed somewhat leisurely. Having been on campaign for several months, Xiuxoke had higher expectations for his son. He had a lengthy private discussion with the senior warrior, Bertade, and then resumed Xiulote¡¯s family military training.


    Every day at dawn, Xiulote had to rise, accompanied by the nascent sunrise, to begin his warrior training, with Bertade as his instructor.


    The Aztec City-State Alliance was a typical classical militaristic society, where every young man within each Mexica City-State was mandatorily required to undergo military training. Family training usually started by the age of twelve, influenced by the family¡¯s financial ability.


    Xiulote¡¯s training had started at the age of ten, his father provided him with abundant food supply, such as fine cornmeal cakes and scarce meats, and then had Olosh instruct him in martial arts.


    Initially, Xiulote, possessing the memories of an adult, was resistant to the training. He used various methods of hiding to test Olosh¡¯s intelligence in finding people, thus delaying the start of the training.


    To increase the young boy¡¯s interest in practicing martial arts, the Jaguar warriors, under the protection of the samurai, showed him an "ultimate technique": one man with one club dueling a jaguar. It was unimaginable how a human could agilely dodge the pounce of a large feline, then fiercely strike with both hands wielding an obsidian club, stunning the tiger with one blow and killing it with ten!


    Since then, the shocked Xiulote obediently met Olosh¡¯s training demands, which eventually shaped the muscles beneath his light clothing.


    When the City-State youths reached fifteen years of age, they would enter the strict community military school of Telpochcalli to receive practical skills and military instruction. The instructors at the military school were all Fourth-Level veteran warriors, looking after the youths like a Jaguar caring for a litter of kittens, definitely providing each youth with a memorable "pleasant" experience.


    These "pleasant" memories would last five years, until graduation from the military school. Outstanding youths would earn the status of junior samurai, becoming part of the prospective ruling class. Afterwards, they would start the promotion process of capturing prisoners and climbing ranks, advancing from the young to the middle-aged, bravely moving forward until reaching the civilian ceiling of "Fourth Level senior warriors," with the qualifications to join the Jaguar and Eagle Warrior Battalions, and become part of the military nobility.


    Youths who failed would henceforth be estranged from the ruling class. They would become craftsmen, merchants, or the lowest class of farmers. Top craftsmen could participate in the construction of pyramid temples, excellent merchants might be absorbed as intelligence scouts for the Pochtecatl, and they too belonged to the fringes of the ruling class.


    A minority of nobility and priest descendants would enter the Calmecac, the City-State¡¯s higher academy directly. There, military instruction was secondary, the main curriculum being noble literature and politics, astronomy and theology, ultimately achieving a higher "starting point," as junior noble warriors or assistant priests.


    The young noble warriors and priests still had to level up by capturing prisoners. Fourth-Level senior noble warriors usually joined the Jaguar or Eagle Warrior Battalions more easily, becoming First-Level military nobles. First-Level military nobles belonged to the small nobility class, moving upward to becoming a Second-Level hereditary noble, Third-Level honor noble, and finally reaching the Royal Family and King of the Descendants of the Sun God. The honor nobles already had the qualifications to rule the City-State as City Lords.


    The pinnacle of priests¡¯ promotions through capturing prisoners was the Fifth Level Coyote Priest, with the subsequent City-State Elder Priest, the Chief Priest of Teotihuacan, and the Chief Priest of Tenochtitlan all belonging to the holes filled by individuals at the top of the ruling hierarchy.


    In short, in Xiulote¡¯s view, the Aztec¡¯s class system was similar to the Qin State in the East, "title by military service," or Prussia in the West, "a state¡¯s army."


    Training at the camp always began facing the sunrise. Xiulote first took a half-hour cold water bath, wearing only a pair of shorts in the chilly morning breeze, honing his willpower. Then, the morning involved two to three hours of endurance training, including running, mountain climbing, moving stones, lifting shields, and loaded marching.


    After a brief rest, he continued to learn shield and war club techniques with Bertade, starting with shield raising for blocking, followed by war club chopping, hammering, and slapping, mastering the differences between killing and capturing, and finally moving on to one-on-one combat.


    During these times, Bertade always demonstrated what it meant to handle weight as if it were light, and what it meant to be indefensible. Xiulote often felt his shield was just for show, while Bertade patiently emphasized that the shield was a Samurai¡¯s life. This was especially true in large-scale battles, where one could replace a lost war club with a spare dagger, but losing a shield often meant not surviving more than three minutes.


    Training ended with a hearty lunch, as rigorous training required ample nutritional support, which was the biggest constraint encountered in the training of common warriors.


    Lunch began with a cup of hot cocoa. Xiulote had a hard time adjusting to the traditional cold cocoa mixed with spices and chilies and instead opted for honeyed hot cocoa. The taste was still bitter, but it felt comforting after drinking it.


    Central America was an excellent region for sugarcane cultivation, but sugarcane had not yet been introduced. If one wanted a taste of sweetness, it could only be obtained from expensive, rare wild honey, bland agave nectar, and seasonally limited maple syrup. It was said that the Maya possessed the secret technique of beekeeping, giving Xiulote one more reason to attack Yucatan.


    The main dish was corn tortillas filled with black bean paste and green beans, replenishing the basic carbohydrates and protein. The warriors really liked adding chilies, avocados, and cherry tomatoes. Avocados and tomatoes were usually more expensive, but in Mexico, chilies were abundant.


    Next was Xiulote¡¯s most satisfying supplementary meal, grilled venison seasoned with salt and herbs. In meat-scarce Central America, this was definitely food for the Great Nobility. Because venison was rare, often one had to settle for dry turkey meat instead.


    It was said the Maya had invented dishes like grilled lizards, conches, sea turtles, and lobsters. Xiulote politely declined, not daring to try these dangerous foods. Even delicious lobsters, once consumed with parasites, led to lifelong problems in this era, almost without a cure.


    Finally, lunch ended with an agave drink. Bertade would have a small cup of tequila, while Xiulote preferred the slightly sweet agave juice. Agave was almost one of the most important plants in the lives of the Mexica, with agave stems that could be roasted and eaten, agave leaves used to feed turkeys, agave juice that could be drunk or fermented, and leaf fibers that could be used to make rope. Xiulote thought it could probably also be used for papermaking.


    After lunch came the time Xiulote enjoyed: learning. Every afternoon, he would organize the Chinese characters he used daily, draw instructional diagrams, and sometimes Aweit would come to help and talk about the latest military intelligence.


    Then, as the sun set, he would joyfully gather his followers, watching the majestic warriors face the sunset with bafflement as they studied the written word. This was also a time when the eternally solemn Bertade would rarely show a pained expression.


    After nightfall, without candles made from fat or the presence of women, the warriors had little to do. They could only gather around the campfire to chat, boast, sing, fight, and drink. Of course, the scarce alcohol was generally only available on important sacrificial days.


    At this time, Xiulote would chat with his followers about family matters, listen to tales of urban life, distant rumors, and the desires of warriors.


    When the night deepened, he would return to his hut under the moonlight, lie on his grass bed, and gaze at the hazy starlight outside the cloth window. His thoughts would drift far away, crossing time and space, before he finally drifted off to sleep.


    Bertade, on the other hand, would lie awake in the corner of the hut, quietly guarding memories of the past and a future full of anticipation. And outside in the forest surrounding the camp, the conflicts and battles between the Mexica warriors and the Otomi people would thus be isolated, as if in another world.


    Such was Xiulote¡¯s day: rising with the sunrise, resting under the starlight, waiting for the turning point in the war.

 Chapter 37 - 35: Agriculture and the Empire

    The sun rose from the forests of the East, dawn pushed away the night, releasing a brilliant golden hue. Dew shimmered among the grass and trees, and the birds awoke along with it, their melodious chirping filled the air.


    Xiulote faced the rising sun, barechested, wearing only the most convenient white loincloth around his waist. Before him was a tub of cold water and a clay basin. Bertade stood quietly in front, looking at his face.


    He scooped up a basin of cold water and poured it from above his head. The water flowed like a waterfall, running down his entire body, instantly chilling him in the morning breeze, his skin puckering up, yet his expression remained unchanged. According to the demands of a Samurai, he had to always remain resolute, showing no signs of cold aversion or hesitation.


    After a little while, once the droplets had nearly dried, he poured another basin of cold water over himself, repeating the process until the tub was empty. Bertade then showed a slight smile.


    "Well done, Xiulote, you are now showing some spirit of a Samurai. It is already April, and the weather is starting to warm up. The willpower training for cold resistance will soon stop. Then in the mornings we will switch to agility training, until October, when the warm rainy season is over, and we will return to the beginning."


    Xiulote nodded firmly, his face had frozen, temporarily unable to speak.


    At that moment, a small red bird, attracted by Xiulote, flew around the young man while chirping. The bird had a distinct crown on its head, its face was black, it flew very fast, its call was loud and joyful, and it chirped melodically, occasionally pecking at the water splashes at his feet. Xiulote found it very familiar.


    "Ah, a courting songbird, it¡¯s a blessing from the Goddess of Fertility, Tonakaxiwatel. This is a good omen, it seems the season of reproduction has arrived. Xiulote, you need to suppress your own desires. Of course, trying it once, completing the transition from boy to man, is also necessary." Seeing the good omen, Bertade was in a good mood, and made a rare joke about men.


    Xiulote rolled his eyes, his face finally able to move."Bertade, you¡¯ve been corrupted by Aweit. You don¡¯t need to show off your theological knowledge in front of the priests. Tonakaxiwatel is also the God of Harvest. Seeing the red songbird signals that the season for spring plowing has arrived."


    This beautiful little bird is the Northern Cardinal, widely distributed in the woodlands of Central America and North America. April is their mating season, and they have an especially beautiful song. Xiulote was more familiar with its other widely known name, "Angry Bird". S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    While they were talking, they saw smoke slowly rising in the distant sky to the East, dispersing in the sky, not too dense. After a while, another plume of smoke slowly rose. Bertade looked in the direction of the smoke columns and then nodded in relief: "It¡¯s in the direction of the villages. It¡¯s preparation for Milpa, setting fire to the forests, spring plowing is about to begin."


    Xiulote nodded. The agriculture in Mexico comprised of Chinampa and Milpa, the former being the highly productive floating gardens in river and lake terrains, and the cornerstone of the strength of Mexica city-states. One hectare of Chinampa could feed at least twenty people, equivalent to one and a half per acre. Xiulote remembered the Ming Dynasty books he had seen, "The fertile fields close to city walls yield not less than five or six stone per mu ", which made Chinampa equivalent to the top-grade rice fields of Celestial Empire¡¯s Jiangnan.


    In the capital, the city of Tenochtitlan, located in the middle of a lake, boasted over 9000 hectares of Chinampa gardens, supporting a magnificent city of more than two hundred thousand inhabitants¡ªmore populous than any city of Western Europe at the time, comparable to Celestial Empire¡¯s cities like Kaifeng and Hangzhou. For this expedition, the capital along with three cities and the villages in the lake region, with a total population of 1.5 million, directly provided five Xiquipillis, 40,000 royal Samurai directly under the Royal Family.


    Xiulote had once followed his father to visit the family¡¯s Chinampa gardens. This fertile floating farmland was the core of every nobility¡¯s household. However, he was not familiar with Milpa, the most widespread form of cultivation in Central America.


    Agriculture was the foundation of the Empire, and population was the cornerstone of civilization; only civilizations with a substantial core population could truly grow into an empire. Xiulote thought about Celestial Empire¡¯s hundreds of millions core, Ottoman¡¯s ten millions core, France¡¯s ten millions core¡­ of course, excluding the Indian subcontinent.


    Considering this, Xiulote decided to personally witness the Milpa cultivation. A Samurai never delayed taking action. After consulting with Bertade, who nodded, he went to summon a hundred Samurai followers.


    Then, Xiulote went to find Totec and told the Supreme Commander that he wanted to visit the Otomi villages occupied in the East, "to conduct a sacrificial rite for the spring plowing". Totec furrowed his stiff brows, gruffly warned, "Be careful of the Otomi coyote attacks", and gave him an escort of a hundred Samurai.


    Thus, Xiulote dressed in a Coyote priest robe, accompanied by two hundred Samurai, carrying ten days¡¯ worth of provisions, set off to the mountain villages in the East.


    By then, the siege warfare had been going on for half a year, and the large Mexica army had already deployed at the foot of Otapan City. Siege warfare wasn¡¯t simply tens of thousands of soldiers amassed below a city; it involved setting up well-distributed camps, deploying troops extensively, controlling critical points around, and cutting off the city¡¯s food and water supply.


    By now, villages within two days¡¯ distance around the mountain city had been cleared out, the village closest to Xiulote being two and a half days¡¯ distance to the East. The squad of Samurai then followed the supply route, winding their way eastward.


    During the march, Xiulote encountered a supply convoy once; hundreds of porters carrying tall packs of provisions struggled to walk along the mountain path, their heavy loads bending their backs, surrounded by hundreds of fully armed Samurai and militia. Xiulote shook his head; this supply efficiency was so low that at least half would be consumed on the road.

 Chapter 38 - 35: Agriculture and the Empire_2

    After marching through the forest for two days, they had not seen any of the attacking Otomi Warriors. Instead, they encountered Otomi villagers coming out of the forest to surrender. Now, the nearby villages were all under the control of the Mexica warriors, and the spring planting was about to begin. Without spring planting, there would be no harvest for the year and certain death thereafter. The villagers had no choice but to abandon hiding and come down from the mountains.


    As for the villages that could be controlled, the legion treated them as their possession, showing enough mercy.


    When Xiulote arrived at the nearest Otomi mountain village, extinguished blue smoke lay before his eyes. A stretch of forest outside the village had been completely burned down, and the peasants were taking out stone ploughs, a simple digging stick, from between the thatched cottages and mud walls along with corn seeds, getting ready to begin spring planting.


    Upon seeing the large troop of Mexica warriors led by the Coyote Priest, the Otomi villagers immediately prostrated themselves, deeply burying their heads, hiding the fear and fire in their eyes. This was starkly different from the passion of peasants in the Mexican Valley. The commander of the stationed Mexica militia hurriedly came forward and paid respects to Xiulote.


    Xiulote observed everything: the empire¡¯s rule here was fragile, maintained only through military force. He did not say much but merely informed the militia commander that the squad¡¯s purpose was to perform the "spring planting sacrificial rite." Upon hearing this, the prostrate Otomi people also raised their heads, finally showing an expression of reverence and joy.


    The Priest¡¯s divine authority was potent. Its strength lay in its deep roots within people¡¯s hearts, encompassing every aspect of life, sustained through various rites.


    Xiulote came to the center of the village and set up a small altar. He first placed a circular stone, sprinkling soil on top to symbolize the earth. Then he scattered corn, beans, pumpkins, cocoa, and chili peppers on the soil¡ªall divine sustenance¡ªsymbolizing the upcoming planting. He then placed green grass around to signify growth, and finally green branches on the outer perimeter, symbolizing the eventual harvest.


    This was a ritual to pray for a bountiful harvest, very basic and people-friendly, widely spread through the villages of Central America.


    Next, the Young Priest ascended the altar, and immediately everything below hushed into silence. As the crowd waited prostrate, the Priest danced and sang:


    "I slept beneath the Earth,


    Dreaming of seven serpents encircling around.


    They feasted on my flesh of olden days,


    Hisssing loudly, calling me home.


    It was Tonakaxiwatel,


    Goddess of fertility and harvests."


    "The Goddess chose me in her blooming garden,


    Sunflowers and corn were my naive childhood,


    Beans and pumpkins were my comfort of youth,


    Cocoa was my bitter middle-age, S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Red chili peppers were my ripe old age.


    Then the flowers bloomed, tearing my throat,


    Then the fruits grew plump, coagulating my flesh."


    "The Goddess dyed the fruit that was me,


    She dressed me in olden skin,


    Life then departed from my body,


    Quickly come, consume the sacrifice of my flesh.


    I will once again take root in the midst of the Earth,


    Planted deeply,


    Into a long slumber."


    "I am the Goddess¡¯s grain,


    The seed buried in the soil.


    After planting, it sprouts,


    After sprouting, it grows,


    After growing, it matures,


    After maturing, it sacrifices,


    After sacrificing, it returns,


    Turning again into a seed."


    "This is the endless circle,


    I will always emerge for the Goddess.


    She guards me with the Sun,


    She kisses me with raindrops,


    Bringing the Earth its harvest,


    And I am never alone.


    This mighty Goddess,


    Tonakaxiwatel!"


    Consequently, the warriors solemnly performed their rites, chanting the divine name "Tonakaxiwatel" in unison, while the villagers lay flat on the ground, kissing the Earth beneath them.


    In Xiulote¡¯s view, this sacrificial poem was quite straightforward, treating crops as people, which sounded very odd at first.


    But after listening a few times, he realized it was actually an easily understandable agricultural poem, indeed meant to guide agricultural production.


    The first verse was nonsense.


    The second verse, the planting sequence of crops over time is sunflowers, corn, beans, pumpkins, cocoa, and red chili peppers.


    The third and fourth verses, the growth sequence of crops is: after planting the seed, wait for a while for it to sprout; after it sprouts, it will grow and then flower; after flowering, it will bear fruit, which must be eaten quickly; after eating, remember to plant again.


    The final verse, the conditions for crop growth are sunshine and water.


    After the ritual, the Otomi people¡¯s attitude toward Xiulote visibly changed. The youth, now utterly beloved, was surrounded by hundreds of villagers, with every corner of his priestly garment passionately kissed until his trusted aide Bertade rescued him from the crowd.


    After completing the ritual, it was time to sow. Xiulote followed closely to observe.


    The villagers dug finger-deep holes in the land cleared by burning, placed a few corn kernels therein, gathered ash and wood debris as fertilizer around the holes, and covered them. The gaps between the planting pits were about half a meter both horizontally and vertically, and the soil could not be densely planted as in modern agriculture, mainly due to insufficient soil fertility.


    This is the big sister of America¡¯s staple food, the Three Sisters: corn.


    The subsequent planting was coached by the village Elder, who explained and demonstrated while Xiulote listened and asked questions.


    A few weeks later, when the corn had grown to several inches, it was time to plant beans. These were the second of the Three Sisters. Beans must be planted surrounding the corn, several beans around one corn.


    Then a week later, it was time to plant pumpkins, the youngest sister. Approximately two to three meters was planted per pumpkin since pumpkins spread across the ground.

 Chapter 39 - 35: Agriculture and the Empire_3

    Xiulote pondered carefully, at the same time recalling past knowledge. In this process, corn grew tall, providing stalks for the climbing soybeans. Beans wound around the maize, fixing nitrogen to replenish soil fertility. And pumpkins spread across the spaces between corn and beans, clearing the field of weeds. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The three crops formed a perfect symbiotic relationship, requiring little human management, which suited the situation in Central America, where only rudimentary stone tools were available.


    Now it was late April; corn needed five months to mature and would be harvested around October, while beans planted later took about four months to mature, with a harvest around September. Early-maturing pumpkins only required a little over three months and would be harvested from August to September. Following the corn harvest at the beginning of October, they would decide whether to plant another round of beans at the end of the year, not for yield but to supplement soil fertility.


    Nutritionally speaking, corn was the carbohydrate, beans the protein, and pumpkins played a role in satiating hunger, which altogether supported the daily survival of the common people. As for sunflowers, cocoa, and chili peppers, the village Elder indicated those were things the City-State folks enjoyed, which the village didn¡¯t need.


    Xiulote did some calculations: if you included the time consumed in widespread planting, it meant sowing in April, May, and June, with harvests in August, September, and October, making it difficult for the City-States to mobilize Militia from April to October, deterring them from engaging in warfare lightly. However, the Mexica City-State Alliance with ample Chinampas could mobilize a large force during this period to catch their enemies off guard and incidentally ruin their agricultural production.


    Overall, the Milpa began with the slashing and burning of forests, followed by the successive planting of the Three Sisters¡ªcorn, beans, and pumpkins¡ªand ended with fallowing the land for one to three years. The yield varied from one-fifth to one-seventh of that of Chinampas.


    Xiulote made a conversion and figured that, depending on the variations in water and nutrients, each hectare of Milpa could sustain three to five people, that is, one person per three to five acres. This was slightly lower than the yield of the dry fields in the north of the Ming Dynasty at the time. Here, without the advanced agricultural technology of Huaxia, they simply relied on the high yield of corn and pumpkins. And in the barren mountains, the mountaineers would also grow sweet potatoes as supplementary food.


    Watching the hardworking Otomi villagers in the fields and pondering the data just calculated, Xiulote suddenly realized that the total population of Central America might far exceed his expectations.


    Even accounting for two years of fallow land, based on the supply of food, the density of most population centers in Central America would not be less than one-third that of the northern regions of the Celestial Empire at that time. And the Mexican Valley, blessed with countless Chinampas and no need for fallow periods, would have a population density close to that of Jiangnan in the Celestial Empire, which was Central America¡¯s "Nanzhili."


    Agriculture determined population, and population determined the potential of a nation. This is why the various nations of Mexico could so easily muster armies of over a hundred thousand for campaigns.


    Across the Mexica region, from the northernmost Chichimec to the southernmost Zapotecs, from the westernmost Texcoco to the most eastern Nava, and the centrally located Mexica, this was a civilization believed by posterity to consist of at least fifteen million people, but Xiulote considered it to exceed twenty million ¡ª a civilization territory with the world¡¯s highest yielding corn, pumpkins, sweet potatoes, and the increasingly spread potatoes.


    Xiulote gazed across the distant fields, where golden hope shimmered. He looked at the seeds yet to sprout, which were the cradle of civilization.


    "What does a Stone Age population of tens of millions mean?" Xiulote thought, and then he smiled.


    "This will be another Celestial Empire, a Celestial Empire with tens of millions in its core population!"

 Chapter 40 - 36: Life

    Spring plowing had just begun, and April in Mexico was the season for sowing.


    Xiulote sat at the edge of the field, watching the busy village farmers. Most of them were shirtless, wearing only loincloths, their feet bare and calloused, backs bent and hunched as they swung simple digging sticks, sweating over the freshly burnt fields.


    Fortunately, Mexico was not lacking in salt. The long coastline, scattered City-State rule, extensive trade, and widespread salt mines meant that the lower classes did not have to suffer from painful salt-deficiency edema. Xiulote remembered that near the capital, there were huge salt mines, which were also one of the trade goods of the City in the Lake.


    Strictly speaking, life in Mexico before the arrival of the colonizers was not too bad, Xiulote thought.


    City-State governance over its subsidiary villages was lax, without the high taxes imposed on the farmers of Eurasia during this era. Food was abundant, and salt was inexpensive. Even in the barren mountain fields, an Otomi person only needed to cultivate three to five acres to survive without fearing the dreadful spring famine. If sweet potatoes, which were highly productive, were planted in the mountains, it could even support an extra child.


    "Aside from the densely populated Mexican Valley, the lands in other regions are far from reaching their cultivation limit. With enough iron agricultural tools, a new great development could be ushered in, similar to the development of Jiangnan during Jin Dynasty," the young man¡¯s thoughts wandered off to Huaxia, a country also developed through history, thousands of miles away.


    Then, Xiulote grabbed a handful of soil from the field and carefully identified its type: it was a sandy loam commonly found in the Mexican Plateau area, between water-repellent sandy soil and water-affectionate loam. This soil, with good water and nutrient retention, did not require much alteration and was excellent for agriculture.


    "If only a canal could be built from the south by the Lerma River, the entire dry fields of the Otapan region could be transformed into irrigated fields," Xiulote yearned as he looked southward, "The yield of the land could undergo a breakthrough, moving from ¡¯lower fields¡¯ to ¡¯middle fields¡¯ and even ¡¯upper fields¡¯."


    "And to really achieve high yields, fertilizers must be applied. River mud, manure, and the recent natural fertilizer, guano," Xiulote recalled.


    America is famous for its guano deposits, with the nearest abundance being on the islands along the coast of Lower California to the west, a sacred resting place for flocks of birds. Further away, was the most famous Chilean guano. He remembered that Bolivia, Peru, and Chile had fought the renowned "Guano War."


    Xiulote watched the fields in contemplation. Warriors were scattered nearby, vigilant yet resting. In the controlled village area, everyone was relatively relaxed, with their weapons tied to their backs with hemp ropes, and only shields in hand.


    A young warrior took out a flask but before drinking, walked over to Xiulote and sincerely offered it to the young man: "Priest, this is the last bag of wine brewed by my wife, please drink."


    Xiulote smiled and reached out to take it. Seeing this, his trusted aide Bertade took it relaxingly first. He unscrewed it, smelled it, and then drank a gulp.


    "Not bad, this Tequila," Bertade smiled at the young warrior, "I was a bit thirsty, let me drink some first."


    "Need some salt?" the young warrior asked with a smile.


    "No need, I like this bittersweet and joyful taste. It reminds me of the old days," Bertade said with slight sentiment. After speaking, he took two more sips before passing it to Xiulote.


    The young warrior, named Kusora, had followed Xiulote since the funeral last July, and nine months had already passed in the blink of an eye.


    Xiulote knew that he came from a City-State civilian family, had a wife, and a newborn son. A few months ago under the city of Guamare, Xiulote had watched him bury his son¡¯s umbilical cord there and make a warrior¡¯s vow.


    Taking the flask, Xiulote did not hurry to drink, but first took out a small pottery jar, poured a little salt on his hand back, quickly licked it, and then took a gulp of Tequila. First came the saltiness, then the bitterness, followed by a gentle kick.


    "Without distillation technology, this light alcohol doesn¡¯t taste too bad," Xiulote thought.


    Then he looked at the flask in his hand, feeling its softness and light weight, a unique touch, and good sealing properties, making it a great marching water flask.


    "Did you make this yourself?" Xiulote curiously looked at Kusora. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes," Kusora nodded vigorously and began to explain enthusiastically, "This is made from a deer¡¯s stomach. I cut the appropriate part of the stomach, then sew one end tight, and make the other end adjustable with a closure. Afterwards, I bake pine branches, extract pine tar, and apply it on the stomach. Then I lightly roast the stomach with fire to let the pine tar seep into it and shape it, making a water flask that can be used for a long time."


    "You have skilled hands," Xiulote admired.


    Kusora was very happy: "My father is a craftsman; he taught me a lot. I often make small obsidian ornaments for my wife. When I go back, my son will probably be two years old, just the right time to make him a wooden toy."


    "Why did you think of becoming a warrior?" Xiulote smiled at Kusora¡¯s calloused hands. "You could have been a very good craftsman."


    Kusora scratched his head, laughed again: "By becoming a City-State Warrior, I gained a piece of land outside the city, and my wife could reduce her workload from weaving. If I capture some prisoners in this war, I could get promoted and rewarded. When my son grows up, I could provide better food for his warrior training. Later, he would have the chance to become a strong Jaguar warrior, or even own a Chinampa."

 Chapter 41 - 36 Chapter Life_2

    Kusola looked toward the direction of his southern home, his eyes filled with an expression unlike any other. Xiulote saw in him the responsibility of a man, the pursuit of a family head, and the aspirations for the future. Enlisting in the military was the only way for a Mexica to change their social class.


    "Yes," Xiulote nodded, sincerely blessing him. "Your son will become a Jaguar warrior."


    Hearing Xiulote¡¯s blessing, the young Kusola smiled happily. Bertade next to him also smiled.


    "Head Warrior Bertade, what about you, why did you enlist?" Kusola, still in high spirits, posed the question to the seasoned samurai beside him. Xiulote was curious as well.


    "Me?" Bertade gazed leisurely at the approaching sunset, his eyes growing distant and deep, as if they had traversed time and space to see the past.


    "I spent five years in a commoner¡¯s military school, then came of age and joined the capital¡¯s army, staying here for another twenty years. Initially, I followed the great Montezuma I into battle, then King Asayacatl, and now King Tizoc."


    Bertade chuckled, "The army is my entire life, here I have spent my youth, my adulthood, my middle age, and it will see my old age too. Perhaps dying on the battlefield like a samurai is the best ending."


    "But you are already a Fourth-Level senior samurai, owning enough land and slaves, you could retire back to the city-state, you could even become a military school teacher, living happily with your family, right?" Kusola imagined the life of a Fourth-Level samurai, looking curiously at Bertade.


    Bertade just smiled, the harsh military life leaving its mark of vicissitudes on his face, even more so engraved in his heart: "My wife has already gone to the red kingdom, dying in childbirth along with my child. I never remarried."


    "My only brother fell in battle last year." Bertade stared at the distant clouds, "When I return this time, his wife will probably remarry, and I will adopt his daughter to inherit everything I have."


    Xiulote slightly lowered his head, his mood somewhat heavy. In those days, childbirth was a very common danger. Without contraception and with a high infant mortality rate, women were trapped in a cycle of constant pregnancy and childbirth. One misstep, and it ended in tragedy.


    Therefore, in Mexica society, women who could continually give birth to healthy boys held an exceptionally high status, akin to outstanding warriors on the battlefield. And women who died in childbirth were honored just as warriors who died in battle.


    When Xiulote was very young, his mother passed away from complications during the birth of her second child. He vaguely remembered her face, a very gentle woman from a civilian family of the city-state.


    Later, his father married a new noblewoman and had many concubines who bore him many brothers and sisters. These new family members were not close to him, and they kept to themselves. Had he not been exceptional from a young age, earning the attention and affection of his father and ancestors, he imagined he might have found himself in many dramatic situations.


    The three fell silent, watching the distant sunset together, watching the far-off afterglow, lost in deep nostalgia.


    After a while, Kusola finally asked Bertade, "Head Warrior, why do you choose to follow the Priest?"


    Bertade looked at the setting sun and took a long time to respond: "Perhaps, I want to change something. What about you?"


    Kusola smiled sincerely, "At first, I thought, the Priest being so formidable at such a young age, I wanted to follow him, to seek a career and a future."


    Xiulote also smiled, looking at the young samurai before him, "So what do you think now?"


    Kusora thought seriously for a while before saying, "I think you, Priest, are different from the other nobles. You treat us peasant warriors well, teaching us to read and imparting knowledge to us. You are kind to the common people too. You are a good person."


    Xiulote felt moved inside. He had heard the accolades of the nobles for his knowledge, to which he would only smile. But this was a different voice, one that recognized him for who he was, and it touched him deeply.


    "You two guys, now you¡¯re making me blush. Come on, it¡¯s time for dinner." Xiulote said with a smile, getting up and pulling the two warriors with him as people started to gather around, preparing for the evening meal.


    The dinner was somewhat special. Everyone first sat around the village center¡¯s bonfire, roasting corn cakes and stuffing them with chili and bean paste. After that, the village elders presented two local specialities: a type of spineless cactus and red dried cactus fruits. He also brought out a jar of tequila, an important treasure of the village, expressing his heartfelt thanks and reverence for Xiulote¡¯s spring planting sacrificial rite.


    This type of cactus was the beloved "Mibonta" of the Mexican tribes, an important vegetable. Xiulote picked up a roasted piece, biting into the tip.


    The Mibonta was perfectly roasted, with thin skin, likely specially cultivated. The flesh was tender, tasting like a mix of cucumber, celery, and zucchini. Towards the center, the juice was more plentiful, bringing a light sweetness that seemed to blend fruit and vegetable flavors together.


    Then Xiulote picked up a dried cactus fruit the size of his fist, which closely resembled a dried dragon fruit, filled with many small seeds. After a bite, the sweetness shone through. Xiulote¡¯s eyes lit up, biting twice more, appreciating the slightly gritty texture. The Elder told Xiulote that this was last year¡¯s dried fruit and that fresh cactus fruits in October would taste even better.


    After drinking some more, the warriors around the bonfire became rowdy. Soon, with bellies full of food and wine, some warriors began a war dance by the fire, while others cheered them on. The other warriors sent by Totec loudly clamored for Otomi girls to come and dance. The village elder looked panicked and helpless, standing in place.


    Xiulote waved his hand to calm the warriors down.


    "Rest early and conserve your strength, for we return at dawn." Xiulote commanded, authority emerging from his youthful face. Only then did the warriors stop, agreeing to leave.


    The village elder quickly prostrated himself in thanks. The bonfire banquet came to an end, and the young man decided to go to sleep. The elder vacated his own house for him¡ªthe best wooden hut in the village, clean and tidy inside.


    Xiulote was about to thank the elder, but saw him bring a young girl, claiming her to be his granddaughter, to serve the Priest. The youth looked at the girl, about his age, her shy gaze downward, timidly standing next to the elder. The young man, who had just been emanating authority, suddenly turned a shade of embarrassed red. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bertade softly smiled, stepped forward, and spoke a few words about Mexica warrior tradition to the elder, who then quickly apologized and led the young girl away.


    Farmers, craftsmen, warriors, and nobility. Youth, young adults, middle-aged, and the elderly. Lords and vassals. Boys and girls. Snippets of life flashed through Xiulote¡¯s mind.


    He thought about the lives of the Otomi, the Mexica, and all the tribes of Mexico. Images swirled until finally settling on the girl¡¯s disappointed yet resigned smile as she left. The youth returned the smile, then, amidst the tumult of thoughts, sunk into a deep sleep on the soft grass mat.


    And on the ground mat next to him lay the quietly watchful Bertade, gazing into the distant night.

 Chapter 42 - 37 Ambush

    Dawn split the early morning light, and the still night retreated before the rising sun¡ªanother day had begun.


    When the first ray of sunlight touched Xiulote¡¯s face, it seemed to resonate with his body, and the youth opened his eyes.


    In an age without clocks, the rhythm of the body was the most accurate timekeeper. The samurai also woke up one after another, slowly bringing life to the village. After a simple wash and some cold food, Xiulote bid farewell to the village elder and set off with two hundred warriors on the return journey.


    The homeward mountain path was winding and rugged, barely wide enough for four or five people to walk abreast; it was a trail blazed by supply teams. The army advanced along the edges of the hills. Rolling hillsides on either side were complemented by dense trees, among which the red birds sang cheerfully. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote walked in the center of the troupe, dressed in a brown coyote priest¡¯s Ceremonial Dress, with a sturdy Cotton Armor underneath. He wore the priest¡¯s Feather Crown, and though it was the simplest type, it still stood out "tall" and conspicuous amongst the crowd. Occasionally, birds were attracted by the bright Feathers on his head, circling overhead before flying off with their calls.


    After half a day¡¯s walk, as they were about to enter Otapan¡¯s patrolling range, everyone relaxed a little. Perhaps because the sun was high, the birdsong around them seemed much quieter.


    At this moment, a swift dot flew from the treetops, arrived in an instant and then hovered out of thin air, staying in front of Xiulote¡¯s Feather Crown, curiously examining the "object" before it.


    It was only slightly larger than a bee, with green body Feathers, bright red Feathers on its head, a long beak, and a pair of rapidly flapping wings. Xiulote focused and realized it was a Hummingbird.


    "The Hummingbird is the messenger of the War God Huitzilopochtli, the guardian bird of us Mexica people," Bertade said with some joy. "Priest, you have been favored by the gods."


    Xiulote smiled. The avatar of Huitzilopochtli was the Hummingbird from the south, which had an extraordinary significance for the Mexica people. However, the Hummingbird in front of them was clearly attracted by the colorful Feathers.


    Perhaps feeling shy under the gaze of the crowd, or realizing that what was before it was neither a flower nor a mate, the Hummingbird changed the angle of its wingbeats, spun around on the spot, and then shot forward swiftly like a red meteor. After traveling forty or fifty meters ahead, the Hummingbird seemed startled, suddenly changed direction, and shot up into the sky.


    Xiulote watched, slightly stunned, and had yet to react when he saw Bertade¡¯s expression suddenly change drastically. Bertade glanced quickly at the terrain around him and shouted harshly, "Prepare for battle! Be careful!"


    Bertade¡¯s call acted like a switch, and before his voice fell, over a hundred warriors with short hair and twisted beards rushed out of the woods fifty meters ahead. The warriors, wild-haired, bare-chested revealing tattooed fronts, wearing only loincloths, held simple Wooden Shields in one hand and short Javelins gleaming coldly in the other. With wild beast-like roars, they attacked ferociously under the lead of a few samurai clad in green Leather Armor.


    Bertade immediately raised his shield with his left hand, guarding in front of Xiulote, and with his right hand, he took a Javelin from behind, focusing intently on the onslaught. The Mexica warriors ahead also took War Clubs from behind, shields held high, bravely charging to meet the enemy.


    At that moment, a cry of alarm suddenly came from behind Xiulote, "There are people behind us!" It sounded like the voice of the young warrior Kunava.


    Xiulote turned sharply, only to see six or seven scattered warriors appearing from the woods to their flank. They stood up from their ambush spots, drawing their massive one and a half-meter Wooden Bows, their arrowheads glinting coldly in the sunlight. Aiming at a distance of thirty paces toward Xiulote, they paused briefly to aim, then released without hesitation.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh." The sound of arrows cutting through the air joined in a line, and in these fractions of a second, one couldn¡¯t trace their path¡ªonly the empty bowstrings of the ambushers were visible. Xiulote¡¯s mind went blank, incapable of any response. At that moment, he had one last thought: "I wonder if, in this place far from the golden pyramids of the moon, I can be reincarnated?"


    In that moment of distraction, Xiulote felt a sudden weight on his back, as something pounced on him. He stumbled forward, unsteady on his feet, and then a series of forceful blows knocked him down to the ground, causing his Ceremonial Dress and Feather Crown to fall into the mud.


    He struggled to turn over, propping up the body behind him, only to face Kunava¡¯s blood-streaked profile. Kunava had fallen onto him, blood pouring from his neck like a fountain. He was powerless to move or even make a clear expression.


    In the moment he spotted the archers, he lunged forward to shield Xiulote, barely intercepting six Feathered Arrows, with one going astray.


    Most of the Feathered Arrows buried deep into his Leather-Armored back. A fatal Feathered Arrow had pierced through the back of his neck, severing his left carotid artery. Losing blood nearly at one hundred milliliters per second, he would die within ten seconds.


    The final moment came quickly, and Kunava simply gazed deeply into Xiulote¡¯s eyes, murmuring an indiscernible name: "Nava¡­" Then his eyes shifted slightly to the left, filled with infinite longing for the home in the south, and in the hallucinations before death, his lips curled up slightly, his gaze scattered, never to breathe again.


    Xiulote lay there dazedly, as if turned to sculpture, staring at the now dead young warrior. He remembered the happiness on Kunava¡¯s face from the previous day as he talked about his family, the joy that brimmed over his face, the longing in his eyes for a beautiful future. Xiulote knew that "Nava" was his son¡¯s name, taken from a valiant warrior among the Mexica ancestors. It was also Kunava¡¯s last hope.

 Chapter 43 - 37 Ambush_2

    This was the first Samurai to die for Xiulote.


    The battlefield did not halt for anyone¡¯s death, it demanded more blood. Bertade urgently turned and looked down, patting Xiulote¡¯s face. The young man quickly looked back, his expression void of the pain of being shot by an arrow, devoid of fear between life and death, simply a little lost for losing a friend. The world-weary warrior let out a sigh of relief, then checked Kusola¡¯s breath and sighed again. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Guardian Priest!" Bertade called out to the surrounding warriors with a heavy expression. He then placed his shield on Xiulote¡¯s body, turned, and ran toward the nearest archer.


    More than a dozen followers quickly surrounded Xiulote, using their shields and bodies to protect him tightly. The rest spread out with shields in hand and pounced on the ambushing warriors.


    Bertade ran like a charging jaguar, emitting the wild roar of a jaguar. His steps followed a slight zigzag pattern, his body half-crouched. The opposing archer shot two arrows, both missing and burying into the soil.


    As Bertade closed within twenty steps of the archer, he raised his Javelin Thrower above his head with his right hand, his arm steady and strong, suddenly thrusting it forward; a Javelin flew out rapidly, tracing a shallow arc and piercing into the archer¡¯s chest with a thud, the sharp spear tip exiting through his back.


    The warrior instantly lost all strength, his hands loosened, and his bow and arrow fell powerlessly. His body was knocked backward by the momentum of the Javelin, slumping against the slope of the hill. His last action was to try covering his bleeding chest with his palms, clearly in vain. Soon, he was motionless.


    Bertade did not bother with the warrior he had hit but turned towards another archer thirty steps away. He accelerated his run while drawing his War Club from his back, gripping it with both hands, the club¡¯s tip pointing downward. The archer, in his frenzied state, shot two arrows, which missed. Seeing that only ten steps separated them, he panicked, discarding his bow and arrow to reach for the shield and Short Spear at his feet.


    When the two engaged, Bertade agilely sidestepped, dodging the thrust of the archer¡¯s Short Spear. Then, power rising from his legs, rotating with the force of his waist, and accelerating with his arms, the Obsidian Club grazed past the shield, striking the archer¡¯s head with precise force. The archer¡¯s head instantly twisted unnaturally, his neck snapped harshly, and then his body stiffened before toppling to the side.


    The fierce melee lasted but a moment; brutal warriors without armor and Mexica Leather Armor-clad warriors with War Clubs were rapidly entangled, and they fell at a visible pace.


    Unarmored warriors tumbled like paper before the slashes of the Obsidian Clubs. The warriors¡¯ skilled Martial Arts deftly maneuvered around shields, slashing at enemy shoulders and backs, opening up deep wounds. Then, in mere moments, opponents collapsed from blood loss. The Short Spears of the enemy were formidable, too, with their metal tips able to pierce through the warriors¡¯ Leather Armor, inflicting casualties among the Mexica.


    Seeing the tide turning against them, the enemy Head Warrior turned and fled into the forest, with part of the Mexica in pursuit. The unarmored warriors seemed determined to fight to the death, but once Mexica warriors from the rear caught up and formed battle formations, the situation turned into a one-sided massacre.


    Bertade and his elite warriors caught up with the remaining archers and struck them down one by one, allowing no one to escape the Head Warrior¡¯s pursuit.


    The situation at the front also drew to a close, with the enemy leaders either fleeing or dead. The last of the unarmored warriors, surrounded, screamed in fury, cursing the Mexica¡¯s Sun God intensely, before being cut into pieces by the enraged warriors.


    By then, Xiulote had returned to normal. He knelt silently in front of the body, wordless for a long while before reaching out to gently close Kusola¡¯s eyes. Then, he picked up the water bag that had fallen to the ground, placed it in the young warrior¡¯s hands, bringing him a step closer to home.


    Only after standing up did Xiulote inquire calmly about the casualties among the warriors, his eyes carrying sadness.


    The ambush in the mountains was brief, swift, and intense. More than twenty warriors died, and fifty to sixty were injured. Most warriors perished under the Metal Spears of the unarmored fighters, with a few others killed by the second and third volleys of the archers. The ground was littered with the corpses of over a hundred unarmored fighters, and the enemy also suffered eleven or twelve dead.


    Due to the unarmored fighters¡¯ insults toward the Mexica¡¯s Sun God, the warriors did not spare anyone.


    Bertade checked the unarmored bodies carefully, examining the tattoos on their chests and backs. These wild-haired fighters, resembling barbarians, had bodies covered with shallow scars from long treks through forests. Most prominent on them were the abstract Feathered Serpents tattooed in Maya blue indigo.


    "These are the renegades from Toltec-Tepanec," Bertade said with certainty after examining the Feathered Serpent tattoos.


    "Renegades from Toltec-Tepanec?" Xiulote asked curiously, as this part of history seemed rarely mentioned by the City-States.


    "The Toltec had once established a vast Alliance in the northern Mexican Valley. Tula City, which isn¡¯t far north of Tenochtitlan, became their last Capital. And Teotihuacan, the Holy City where you were born, also once served as their Capital. They worshipped the Feathered Serpent Quetzalcoatl as the Chief Divine ruling the world. Later, the Tepanec from the western shores of Lake Texcoco, who came from the north and merged with the Toltec, took over the Toltec¡¯s dominance and established the Tepanec Kingdom," explained Bertade.


    "But then, the Feathered Serpent was exiled, and the War God Huitzilopochtli ruled the world, taking also the esteemed position of Sun God. He then became the Guardian God of the Mexica, leading the ancestors of the Mexica to build a great Capital City on Lake Texcoco, and promised the ancestors that the Mexica were destined by divine mandate to be the masters of all of Mexico! That was the will of the divine," Bertade concluded.

 Chapter 44 - 37 Ambush_3

    "The Toltec-Tepanecs then revered the Sun God, abandoned their capital city, dissolved their alliance, and joined the Mexica people. They converted to the worship of the Sun God, intermarried with the ancestors of the Mexica through generations, and then merged together to establish the Mexica city-states, one can say they are one of our forebears."


    "Now, in the city-states to the west and north of the Mexican Valley, many customs of the Toltec people remain, such as the grand celebration activities on the day of the Feathered Serpent Divine."


    "A portion of the Toltecs, nostalgic for the Feathered Serpent, followed His departure to the east, and then evolved and merged to become the relatively peaceful Nava-Totonac people of the present-day eastern coast."


    "Only a very small faction of Toltec-Tepanec rebels, still fervently worship the Feathered Serpent Divine and are hostile towards the Mexica alliance, taking refuge in the deepest forests at the border of the Otomi, Mexica, and Tarasco people, where they eke out a miserable existence. Speaking of which, the stronghold of these rebels is indeed not far from here."


    Xiulote recalled the mural of the Feathered Serpent Divine found in Teotihuacan, the "Song of the Feathered Serpent" his grandfather had offered to the king, remembering the New Year celebrations spent in the city-states, indeed everywhere bore the imprint of the Toltec people and the Feathered Serpent faith.


    However, the history Bertade narrated of the Tepanecs being assimilated by the Mexica people was like a myth: the Sun God merging two peoples to create an alliance? Intuition told Xiulote that there must have been countless bloody storms and battles of faith behind today¡¯s integration, which had been glossed over with myths. But since the Mexica people were the ultimate victors, he had no intent to delve into the truth of those bygone days.


    After confirming the identity of the Unarmored Warrior, Bertade went to check the body of the warrior with the Wooden Bow and upon seeing the small garment beneath the leather armor adorned with black and white striped patterns, he said, S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This is an Otomi samurai."


    Xiulote nodded, picking up the wooden bow from the ground. The bow was nearly one meter forty in length, very thick in the grip, still of a single-piece bow design, and the string was tight and strong. Xiulote tried shooting an arrow and, combined with the metal arrows on the ground, the power was formidable: ninety paces would kill an unarmored warrior, fifty paces would break through single-layered padded cotton armor, and thirty paces would penetrate double-layered padded cotton armor.


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes lit up at first, as the bow was much more powerful than a slingshot. But then he felt a wave of fear, realizing that even wearing leather armor, if he had been struck by several arrows at a distance of thirty paces just now, he probably would have been dead for sure.


    "This is Tlaxcala¡¯s Long Wooden Bow," Bertade declared with certainty.


    The two then continued to inspect the Short Spears with metal heads and the metal arrows on the ground.


    "Tarasco¡¯s Copper Spears and Copper Arrows," both said simultaneously, and fell silent.


    After that, the warriors cleaned up the equipment and weapons on the ground, beheaded the enemies, and piled their heads into a small tower by the roadside. Then they tended to the bodies of the fallen, burying them in freshly dug shallow pits.


    Xiulote silently watched as Kusora was submerged by the earth, his expression frozen, with a faint smile, holding a soft water bag in his hands, which still contained the remnants of his wife¡¯s farewell wine, as if he was returning to the warmth of home.


    "Your son will definitely become a Jaguar warrior," Xiulote whispered his promise, filled with sorrow in his heart but calm and reverent on the outside.


    Then, he looked towards Otapan City two days to the west and then glanced to the east and south: "The Toltec rebels, the Otomi samurai, Tlaxcala¡¯s Long Wooden Bow, and Tarasco¡¯s Copper Weapons."


    "It seems the enemies of the Empire have unknowingly formed some kind of union!" A foreboding feeling welled up in Xiulote¡¯s heart, like the distant dark clouds on the horizon.

 Chapter 45 - 38: Madness

    Xiulote led the samurais westward for two days and finally returned to the siege camp at Otapan City.


    At this time, the dark clouds from the east had quietly arrived, obscuring the clear sky and bringing the first light rain in months. This spring rain provided precious water for the seeds of spring planting, but it also left a damp shadow in the hearts of the samurais: the rainy season was approaching.


    Upon returning to the camp, Xiulote immediately sought out Aweit and discussed the ambush they encountered on the way. Then, both of them went to report the military situation to Totec. The stern Supreme Commander looked at the seized copper spears, copper arrows, and long wooden bows and slowly nodded.


    "The Otomi might have been funded by the Tarasco and Tlaxcala people, which is crucial information. Next, the two nations might personally join the battle. I will report to the king, it is time to consider the possibility of retreating," Totec said as he then patted Xiulote on the shoulder. "Next time you go out, bring more samurais; you are a priest, not a warrior!" Having said that, he turned away seriously.


    That evening, King Tizoc¡¯s tent resounded with his angry reprimand.


    It had been seven months since the siege began last September, and nearly four thousand of the fifty thousand elite warriors had died. There had been no large-scale, glorious battle during this period, only continuous guerrilla skirmishes, acclimatization issues, food poisoning, diseases, injuries, and one failed attack on the city. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The camp and the sixty thousand militia in the rear also suffered six or seven thousand casualties, most of which occurred during transportation in the mountains and guerrilla warfare by the Otomi people.


    In these seven months of warfare, due to the scarcity of food, the army did not capture many prisoners, and only a little over two thousand Otapan warriors were killed, of which a thousand were captured under the siege of Guamare City. As for the mass killing of civilians, it actually held no significance for glory.


    The massive casualties caused resentment among the city-states, and the meager military achievements demoralized the warriors. All these greatly diminished the King¡¯s popular support, placing Tizoc¡¯s prestige at a low point. He urgently needed a victory in this siege, using the fall of Otapan City to prove the king¡¯s correct judgment and, by conquering the Otomi people, to restore his own prestige.


    Seeing that Otapan¡¯s food supply would last for about five more months, the dawn of victory was already visible. At this time, the king would not easily give up, no matter what. Moreover, the long wooden bows and copper weapons in the Otomi¡¯s hands could not truly prove anything. The king would rather believe this was a coincidence, that the Otomi acquired them from traders.


    The war made the usually rational king a bit mad, and Totec could do nothing about it.


    All the Supreme Commander could do was keep a stern face, order the scouts to watch further, and constantly monitor the movements of the Tarasco people on the southern shore. As for the Tlaxcala people, the eastern city-states of Mexica still had tens of thousands of troops, enough to handle small-scale wars.


    War does not shift for the will of any one side; it is a game played among two or more parties involved. The Mexica grand army, in a position of advantage, sought a glorious victory, while the less-favored Otomi nobility spared no expense to avoid the fall of their mountain city and their own deaths. In this confrontation, civilian lives were like fleeting leaves that scattered at a slight breeze, easily falling into the mud.


    Back at the camp, Xiulote finally managed to sleep steadily for two days, allowing him to store the battles and sacrifices of the previous two days deep in his heart. That night, suddenly, there was an uproar from the distant mountain city; shouts and chaotic noise accompanied by the indistinct crowd sounded like scattering leaves and drifted straight towards the Mexica¡¯s grand camp.


    Xiulote immediately woke up. He got up, put on a long robe, and exchanged a look with Bertade, who was already armed. The two put on their armor in a hurry, gathered the following samurais, and then went to the front camp to take a defensive position.


    Standing on the high platform of the front camp, using the bonfire at the edge of the main camp for light, Xiulote could see the approaching crowd from afar, a hint of doubt crossing his mind.


    Night attacks are highly organized tactical operations, only the most elite warriors could execute them. From a distance, the attacking Otomi people appeared numerous, but they carried disorganized torches, and their movements were unsynchronized. Occasionally, torches scattered in different directions, some even turning back up the mountain. The sound filled the sky, and faint cries carried with the wind, with women¡¯s screams interspersed within.


    It was only when the crowd closed in that Xiulote understood, and suddenly, a wave of anger surged in his heart.


    Apart from the few lead Otomi civilian warriors, those behind were the scantily clad elderly, women, and children. Some were old, some young, some hopeful, some desperate, some bewildered, some mad. They only carried wooden sticks, driven forward by the noble warriors at the rear.


    Xiulote saw a stooping old woman with her head bowed and back bent, her face unclear, just shaking and stumbling forward with a stick. As the crowd behind continually surged in, suddenly someone bumped her, and she immediately fell to the ground; her stick scattered beside her. As the crowd trampled past, her frail body never rose again.


    These feeble civilians, armed only with sticks, madly rushed towards the gaps in the camp, desperately heading toward the forest behind the camp where they imagined a way out. However, the Mexica warriors had been waiting in tight formation. Holding shields and clubs, they formed a tight, curved line, firmly guarding the camp and its surroundings.


    Thus, Xiulote saw countless "moths" flinging themselves into the fire. The first few dozen civilian samurai let out desperate howls as they charged fatally toward the stern battle lines. They collided with the shields and were then struck by Obsidian Clubs, their Leather Armor bursting open, bones breaking, and bodies contorting as they fell.


    Next came countless Otomi civilians. Powerlessly, they hit the shields, Leather Armor, or another blocking civilian with wooden sticks. Like waves, all surged toward the rocks ahead, then scattered and fell apart, leaving behind only frail bodies weakly sprawled on the ground.


    The warriors coldly swung their weapons, War Clubs snapping necks and breaking spines. The sharp edges of the Obsidian, like blades, cut and tore through the unarmored limbs, blood splashing and staining the mud in front of the camp.


    Xiulote saw a young militiaman in the crowd, holding a simple Wooden Shield, trying to protect the woman and child behind him. But the crowd quickly met its end as it smashed into the firm "rocks." The "rocks" lifted their War Clubs, struck powerfully from above the side, bypassing the simple Wooden Shield, and heavily hitting the man¡¯s back.


    The young militiaman immediately stiffened, throwing his head back sharply like a broken stick. He looked back once, then fell down silently. Xiulote then looked behind him¡ªthe child had already disappeared under the feet of the crowd, and the woman screamed madly as she threw herself toward her husband¡¯s body, followed by a War Club crashing down onto her.


    Xiulote lowered his gaze, expressionless, no longer watching the "moths" burn. Totec, also standing on the high platform, frowned slightly, having already discerned the true nature of this "night raid".


    Immediately, Totec sent out two thousand samurai, instructing them to put down their War Clubs and switch to sharp Obsidian Short Spears. Then the two thousand samurai fiercely moved forward, mercilessly stabbing the incoming Otomi civilians. As the spear tips pierced the soft torsos, the civilians fell neatly in rows like thatching, and then another row from the crowd pushed forward, continuing like this. Against these defenseless and weak beings, the Short Spear was more efficient and less exhausting than the War Club.


    The warriors in the front line then returned to regroup, wiping their Leather Armor clean of the blood and flesh and replacing the worn edges of their War Clubs.


    The civilians continued to hurl themselves into the fire for a good three to four hours, living lives turning into heaps of severed limbs, as the ground was completely painted red. Not until the first light of dawn did they see that the civilians were nearly spent. The nobility warriors driving them from the hilltop to the mountain slope nodded to each other then retreated back to the castle on the mountain.


    The war made the Otomi nobility also turn mad. They discarded all "burdens" just to last longer.


    Soon, the dawn lightened the red sky; morning light filled the blood-soaked earth, the castle atop the hill shimmered with light, and the large camp below was filled with a murderous aura. Warriors from both sides looked across the mountain at each other, everything seemingly unchanged except for the glaring red amidst them.


    As daylight broke, Mexica¡¯s warriors surged out of their camp, forming torrents around the entire Mountain City. Scouts quickly caught many civilians struggling to escape on the steep northern side of the mountain. They too were driven, and in the pitch-black night, they leaped from the rugged cliffs, turning into heaps of corpses and wounded survivors. However, very few actually managed to escape.


    The scouts counted the dead and wounded across the mountain, roughly estimating the number to be twenty thousand, among which only a small part were civilian samurai who voluntarily faced death, and militiamen defending their families. According to the reports, Otapan City originally had over ten thousand samurai, thirty thousand militiamen, and more than thirty thousand civilians, roughly eighty thousand people. Now, less than sixty thousand remained in the city, most of whom were warriors and able men.


    This meant that Otapan City could hold out for "just" two more months, if such "night raids" did not occur again.


    In the tent, Xiulote slightly bowed his head, gaining a clearer understanding of the ruthlessness of the Otapan nobility.


    King Tizoc then furiously smashed his Obsidian Magic Wand in his hand, and immediately roared for the warriors to behead all the captives, piling them below Otapan City. This was the first time Xiulote saw the King lose his composure.


    The surrounding commanders wore serious faces, remaining silent and exchanging glances and expressions, occasionally nodding slightly.


    Without a doubt, this "night raid" severely struck the morale of both armies. The Otomi nobility still firmly controlled Otapan City with their warriors in hand, but Mexica¡¯s King could no longer effectively control the City-State¡¯s army in the large camp. Talks of retreat began to circulate in secret.


    Leaving the tent, Xiulote looked toward the distant sky. Another continuous layer of clouds was coming, a dark curtain slowly closing in, indicating another light rain was on its way. Then, he looked toward the distant campsite where, under the direction of the warriors, militias were clearing the ground of bodies, piling up the heads as a grim display and tossing the remaining parts into a large pit.


    The light rain could wash away the fresh red from the earth, but could it calm the madness in people¡¯s hearts?


    Xiulote gave a self-deprecating chuckle and shook his head.


    "War makes people mad; I must be cautious," he said to himself.

 Chapter 46 - 39 Longbow

    The drizzle arrived as expected, washing away all the fresh blood and temporarily halting all martial prowess. The birds retreated to their nests in the forest, and the vast army, like returning hornets, silently guarded Otapan City, uncertain when this fruit would ripen and fall.


    Xiulote sat in the small hut in the camp, closely examining the Tlaxcala long wooden bow in his hands.


    This type of bow was clearly a self bow, made from a single material, and was indeed a longbow, with a length of over 1.4 meters. The bowstring was made from treated deer sinew, tough and without elasticity. The bow¡¯s body was likely made of oak, one of the better materials for bow-making. The ends of the bow were wrapped and secured with cotton thread, then glued with bone adhesive.


    Overall, the craftsmanship was rather skilled, and the cost wasn¡¯t overly high; it should be possible to produce them on a large scale. The people of Tlaxcala certainly had sizable archer troops.


    Xiulote tested the bow¡¯s power several times and found it stable. With a small angle of shooting, it could kill at 120 meters without armor.


    "The Thirty-three Hall Long Shot"! This high-difficulty flat shot over a distance of 120 meters. Xiulote slapped his forehead, remembering his visit to the Tiantai Sect temple in Capital City during a past trip to Kyoto. It appeared that this self bow was slightly inferior to the composite Japanese bow used at the beginning of the samurai era.


    Ever since the last attack, Xiulote had been contemplating the long wooden bow in his hands.


    Arrows and bows, equipment that strayed from the samurai¡¯s glory and couldn¡¯t capture prisoners, were widely overlooked by the Mexica people. Yet they were actually the weapons with the most development potential among the various parts of Central America. Their development ceiling had the smallest gap with the Europeans and they could potentially breach the chain mail of ordinary knights in the future, harming cavalry horses that even armored knights couldn¡¯t protect perfectly. They did not have a high demand for metal, which made them the most powerful weapons for rising primitive civilizations similar to the Jurchens or Mongolians. Dense volleys of arrows or crossbow bolts were the best method for the Mexica, who had no cavalry, to confront the conquerors¡¯ cavalry.


    At the same time, Central America was rich in high-quality wood resources. The best naturally were ironwood and sandalwood, types of wood that were very hard and had the strongest energy storage, with a quality even surpassing the yew used for English longbows. Thinking this, Xiulote chuckled. Names like Ironwood Bow and Sandalwood Bow were very familiar in his memory.


    For those with slightly lower production costs, there were the commonly found spruce and oak, which were also quality materials for making bows. Spruce bows and oak bows were widely used throughout Europe by the Germanic peoples. These trees were all very common in America, and all spruce species originated from North America.


    Develop the bow and arrow! While pondering the resources at hand and considering the future, Xiulote got swiftly excited. He¡¯d finally found a bright path for the Mexica people to develop their military might under the current conditions!


    Following that, he continued to ponder the design and types of bows, searching through the fragments of memory in his mind.


    The scenes from various period dramas naturally came to mind first. Cavalry horn bows from the North? Xiulote shook his head, no cattle, no horns, no livestock, no go. The Great General¡¯s iron-tire bows? That must also be a type of high-difficulty compound bow, not worth considering. Soon, he realized that it was impossible to recreate any of the classical Chinese bow designs.


    "Whichever bow it is, in winter split the wood and in spring laminate the horn, in summer process the sinew, in autumn combine the three materials, in cold weather shape the body, and in the following spring string it up." It is mentioned in "Kaogong Ji¡¤Bowmen" that to make the most classic compound bows of ancient China, "wood, horn, sinew, glue, silk, lacquer" six materials were required, which are wood, animal horns, animal sinew, adhesives, silk, and paint.


    Additionally, it was necessary to take advantage of the "spring, summer, autumn, winter" four seasons: in winter prepare the wood, in spring shape the horn for the bow¡¯s ears, in summer process the sinew for the bowstring, in autumn create the bow¡¯s composite body, in winter shape the composite bow, and in spring finally string and adjust it, and finally apply paint to prevent insects.


    Who could afford this? Xiulote shook his head. Although a compound bow of equal length had more power, faster speed, and greater accuracy than a single-material bow, it was simply too expensive to use. He counted on his fingers; there were not enough materials, the production time was too long, and the abundant rainfall and high humidity of Central America made the compound bows too prone to damage; moisture and insect prevention were very difficult.


    Throughout the history of the Celestial Empire, when the Mongols and the Jurchen moved south, they always avoided the plum rainy season, one reason being it was too damaging to bows, and it was common for several bows to be ruined over the course of a summer. Forget it, better to adapt to local conditions and develop single-material bows.


    When it came to single-material bows, the first thing Xiulote recalled were the various Japanese bows seen in grand historical dramas, made of bamboo and wood, over two meters long, yet their range was not even half that of the smaller horn bows of the Celestial Empire. This was because Japan lacked high-quality timber, and without enough cattle, they could only substitute with bamboo. The stored energy of a bow comes from its limbs, and bamboo¡¯s energy storage efficiency is too low, leading to insufficient range and power. Of course, with the introduction of Celestial Empire technologies, Japan later began to widely produce compound Japanese bows, using a greater draw length to compensate for the power of the Japanese bows.


    Next naturally came to mind the famous English longbow, from European films, where arrows fell like rain and knights fell from their horses tragically. Xiulote calculated carefully, it had been less than seventy years since the famous English-French Battle of Agincourt. In this battle, eight thousand English longbows defeated thirty thousand French knights, capturing the French marshal, killing five thousand nobility, and nearly ten thousand knights. Whereas the English suffered only a few hundred casualties, the reputation of the longbow became renowned worldwide from that point on. While the terrain played the greatest role in this battle, and there were significant problems with the French command, the large-scale combat capability of the longbow was also affirmed.


    Overall, the early Japanese bows, Welsh longbows, and the later English longbows all belonged to the category of single-material bows with low technical content. It¡¯s essentially one piece of wood made into a bow, with a high draw weight and a large draw length, where the energy storage efficiency comes from the wood material, lower than that of the higher-cost compound bows. Therefore, longbows required high-quality wood and a larger, longer body to achieve greater energy storage and draw length, transferring more kinetic energy to the arrow. High-quality English longbows were all over two meters in length.


    The advantage of the longbow was that its production costs were much lower than those of compound bows, it required less maintenance, and it could be made very quickly, because there was no need for the gluing process of the composite materials. If a composite horn bow is compared to a samurai sword, which needs careful handling, cannot be dry or damp, and needs to be warmed by hand in cold weather before use, then the longbow could be likened to a big iron rod, casually thrown aside for half a year, and still ready for rough use when picked up. Xiulote chuckled to himself at this thought.


    Compared to the horn bow, the longbow¡¯s biggest disadvantage when of the same poundage was that the body was too long and could not be used on horseback, making it unsuitable for cavalry. "Anyway, there are no horses in America at the moment." Another issue was that the firing rate was too slow, the accuracy was somewhat lower, and it made a lot of noise. "A large-scale archery battle formation doesn¡¯t care about this." Lastly, it was too wasteful of wood, especially high-quality wood. "Central America isn¡¯t lacking in high-quality timber." After weighing the options back and forth, Xiulote finally made a decision, "Longbow, it shall be you!"


    With the technological development route now decided, what followed was the concrete implementation of the technology.


    ```


    Without hesitation, Xiulote immediately summoned the craftsmen bestowed by the King and then took out the Tlaxcala long wooden bow and asked, "Who has experience in bow-making?"


    A few dozen craftsmen looked at each other; a few carpenters seemed ready to step forward but hesitated, clearly lacking confidence in their skills. Only an elderly craftsman examined the long wooden bow closely for a while before nodding and stepping out.


    "Respected Priest, this is a long wooden bow from Tlaxcala, which I have replicated before; I can do it." The old man smiled confidently, squeezing out a face full of wrinkles.


    "Excellent! Master Craftsman, how may I address you?" Xiulote was overjoyed.


    "Priest, I am Kuode, one of the Chief Carpenters of Tenochtitlan, summoned by the King this time to participate in the construction of campsites during the march," he said.


    Tenochtitlan, carpenter. Xiulote thought for a moment, then asked, "Do you know Kusora?"


    The old carpenter looked surprised, "He is a junior member of our family, a very promising craftsman, but later he became a Samurai." S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote nodded, "He was my follower and sacrificed himself for me in the previous battle. When we return to the Capital, take me to his house for a visit."


    Kuode nodded respectfully. Then, the two began to formally discuss the making of the longbow, with the other carpenters helping to consult.


    "I need to make a sufficiently long greatbow, over two meters in length, with a simple form that is just a curved line. For now, use deer sinew or deer hide for the bowstring. Next, you must research how to make replacement bowstrings using cotton or hemp cord..." Leaving only Kuode and a few carpenters, Xiulote dismissed the other craftsmen.


    The brief discussion lasted only half an afternoon, and then it was time to start the actual manufacturing.


    Xiulote found some leftover rosewood from the previous catapult construction and chose a straight, three-meter-long piece of lumber. Then, the craftsmen took out their bronze tools and cut a wooden strip about two and a half meters in length and eight centimeters in both width and thickness.


    Next, Kuode used a tool akin to a marking gauge to draw the center line and then, following that line, sketched the shape of the longbow. He carefully cut and sanded, forming the shape of the bow from the wood.


    As it was a first attempt, Xiulote did not dare make the bow too thin. Since the goal was practicality, there was no need to consider decorative elements. Everyone began training the bow directly, a process of conditioning the wood.


    Training the bow was done on a training frame, which could simply be understood as a long stick with even grooves. Kuode first hooked the ends of the bow with a string, then placed the exact center of the bow at the top of the long stick, and gradually pulled down both ends of the bow, one groove at a time.


    Every quarter of an hour, they pulled down a notch, bending the straight bow into an arc until its maximum, then held it there for twenty to thirty minutes to relieve the tension in the bow. Then, they restored it to its original shape, rested for another quarter hour to let the bow recover, and proceeded to train it again.


    Thanks to the superior quality of the wood used, this training took until evening. The scent of food wafted from afar, a flavor of the night. However, Xiulote had no appetite for dinner, instead lighting a fire in the hut and focusing on the craftsmen¡¯s work. After a while, Bertade brought him some cornbread, and the two continued to watch while they ate.


    Only after the training was finished did a famished Kuode accept Xiulote¡¯s cornbread and hastily finished his dinner. What followed was a delicate task; the old carpenter painstakingly polished the bow with tools made of obsidian for a full half hour until the bow was smooth and sleek.


    The final step was oiling. In Mexico of that era, oils were precious commodities. Whether it was tung oil from China or palm oil from West Africa, neither had yet spread to the suitable climates of Central America, and the likes of lard or tallow were even more out of the question.


    Xiulote negotiated for half the night to obtain a small bottle of sunflower seed oil and even had someone press an expensive bottle of avocado oil; if there was time, one could extract some pine resin oil. Kuode generously coated the bow with the oil, and then all that was left to do was wait for the oil to seep in, and for the bow to dry.


    Before they knew it, the night grew deep; it was far past rest time. Kuode bid farewell with his fellow craftsmen, leaving a restless Xiulote behind. The young man lifted the curtain and gazed at the bright Milky Way in the sky, beneath which lay the ancient city-states and nations, unchanged for thousands of years.


    Turning back, he looked again at the longbow in the center of the tent. Its body was white and smooth, over two meters in length, outlining the curves of strength and beauty; it resembled an otherworldly beauty, concealing a fierce potential for martial prowess.


    Xiulote watched entranced, full of anticipation, his thoughts drifting far away, "What power might this longbow hold?"


    ```

 Chapter 47 - 40 Trial Launch

    Early the next morning, under the first light of dawn, Xiulote began his agility training. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He dodged Bertade¡¯s continuous swings with the nimbleness of a leaping monkey. As his muscle reflexes developed, he was already able to effectively avoid slower attacks. With such a reaction trained to the extreme, he could even make slight adjustments under arrow fire in the future, thus avoiding vital parts of his body and greatly increasing his chances of survival.


    The body is the capital of a Samurai, and Martial Arts are the foundation of a Mexica¡¯s standing. There are not yet eighteen types of Martial Arts, but a Samurai must train with shield, War Club, Short Spear, Long Dagger, and Javelin. At this moment, Xiulote was planning to add another foundation to his standing: Archery.


    Before long, Kuode arrived hurriedly with the craftsmen, carrying various bowstrings and pottery jars filled with bone glue. Xiulote was distracted by this and took a hit to the shoulder. Ouch, that hurt. He had no choice but to keep hopping.


    The old carpenter bowed to Xiulote from a distance, smiled, and entered the house to install the bowstring on the Longbow. Bowstrings are usually made of a tough, single-strand line, and here, they used deer sinew. The ends had loops, fitting into small grooves at both ends of the bow and were then fixed with thin twine and bonded with bone glue.


    In the middle of the bowstring, the old carpenter specifically wrapped a small loop of thin deer skin and then wound a thin twine around it. This was the centerpiece that protected the fingers that hooked the bowstring from the string. Above it, he used two thin lines looped to create the nocking point, where the arrow tail contacts the bowstring, preventing the arrow tail from sliding and reducing shooting accuracy. These components were once again fixed with bone glue.


    By late morning, as Xiulote finished his endurance training, the English Longbow, no, the Mexica Longbow was finally completed. Holding the "Divine Weapon," he couldn¡¯t wait to go to the training ground, the two meters and twenty centimeters of the bow¡¯s length towering over the youth by two whole sizes. The boy could only tilt the Longbow slightly to master the shooting center.


    Then, Xiulote excitedly took a bone arrow over seventy centimeters long from Bertade¡¯s hands, nocked it, and pulled hard. To his surprise, he found that with his current strength, he was actually unable to fully draw the Longbow. Bertade¡¯s good-natured chuckles came from beside him.


    The boy¡¯s face turned red with effort as he drew the bowstring and then aimed at the Leather Armor set up seventy paces away, attempting a level shot. A sharp "swish" sounded, and the Bone Arrow flew like unseen Lightning, soaring beyond the height of the Leather Armor. It arced faintly before thudding into the ground at a hundred and ten paces. When everyone went over to look, the arrow had sunk nearly a quarter into the soil.


    Clearly, at the last moment, the boy¡¯s hands had not been steady, and the arrow had risen slightly during release, turning a level shot into a lobbing one. However, when everyone saw the shooting power at a hundred and ten paces, the Samurais and craftsmen looked at each other, their astonishment beyond words. The boy smiled proudly.


    The following tests were clearly much more serious. Bertade took the Longbow, asking everyone to step back slightly. The weathered warrior inhaled deeply, held the Longbow aloft with his left hand steady as the ground, and pulled firmly with his right, bending the bow into a circular arc. He paused briefly to aim and released a shooting star of an arrow.


    Drawing a swift and straight arc, the Bone Arrow punctured the Leather Armor at seventy paces with a "bang," tearing open two round holes in the chest. It continued to glide forward for dozens more paces before landing diagonally, the arrowhead still embedded in the ground.


    The onlookers erupted in cheers, praising the "Divine shot". The Head Warrior¡¯s face flushed slightly; he had actually aimed for the helmet on the Leather Armor. Even the experienced Samurais of Mexica rarely practiced Archery; they were more adept at the precise throwing of Javelins at close range. Bertade¡¯s Archery skills came from his youth when he practiced hunting birds in the woods with a Hunting Bow.


    After another power check of the shooting, everyone¡¯s expression turned serious. At a distance of seventy paces, Leather Armor was as thin as leaves before the Longbow, and that was using Bone Arrows. If sharp Copper Arrowheads had been used...


    "This will be a revolutionary weapon. Within the ninety paces of Longbow¡¯s fire, elite Leather Armored Samurai and ordinary Militia clothed fighters are no different. Once hit, one is either critically injured or dead," Bertade commented seriously on the effect of the shooting.


    Everyone looked at each other and nodded in agreement. There was a vague sense of an era of change dawning.


    The Head Warrior again tested the extreme range of the Mexica Longbow. He drew the bow full circle, with the arrowhead angled half towards the sky, and fired a forty-five degree parabolic arc into the distant white clouds.


    Xiulote ran to check the landing. The Bone Arrow had a range of a full hundred and sixty paces, ushering in a revolutionary dominance over all of Mexico¡¯s simple single bows, capable of firing and suppressing city walls from the plains.


    At this point, the faces of those present were filled with irrepressible joy, mixed with serious contemplation. Kuode first smiled in satisfaction, proud of his craftsmanship. Then, the old carpenter glanced at the hole in the Leather Armor target and suddenly sighed softly.


    As if made of tireless steel, Bertade repeatedly tested the power of the Longbow at different distances until his arms ached and he could shoot no more.


    Xiulote got the actual data for the Mexica Longbow finally: a draw weight of over 90 pounds, an approximate initial arrow speed of 55 meters per second, a maximum lob shooting distance of about 160 paces, a maximum level shooting distance of ninety paces, can penetrate cloth armor within a hundred and forty paces, injure Leather Armor within a hundred paces, and a level shot at seventy paces could pierce straight through the Leather Armor! And within twenty paces, using metal arrowheads, it could completely shatter the chain mail armor of most European Cavalry.

 Chapter 48 - 40: Test Firing_2

    "The overall performance is roughly 80% of the English Longbow! The English Longbow¡¯s maximum range in a high arc is 180 paces, and in flat trajectory over 100 paces," Xiulote thought excitedly, "Even though we have better materials for the bow, our craftsmanship is somewhat lacking compared to theirs. Reaching this level of performance is largely thanks to Master Craftsman Kuode¡¯s own efforts."


    "Once we start mass-producing longbows, the overall power should be just slightly less than 80% of the English Longbow, capable of penetrating chain mail within 20 paces. This power is more than sufficient!" Happiness flushed Xiulote¡¯s face, and the young man couldn¡¯t keep the smile from spreading from ear to ear. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Watching the craftsmen continue to discuss the shooting and use of different arrows, the young man¡¯s feet seemed to catch the wind as he hurried to find Aweit, hardly able to wait to see his teacher¡¯s astonished expression.


    Soon, a grinning Aweit was being dragged over by the young man, and Bertade had recovered some arm strength to demonstrate once again the ultimate technique of piercing leather armor with an arrow within 70 paces. This time, the Head Warrior was able to stabilize the shooting point near the heart area of the leather armor, though he still could not guarantee a headshot.


    Through the ultimate test, the Head Warrior determined that even for an elite samurai like himself, the longbow¡¯s maximum rate of fire was 15 arrows/minute, with arm strength exhausted after maintaining this pace for a maximum of 3-4 minutes, that is, a maximum of 60 arrows. Whereas for steady shooting at a normal pace, the rate was 7 arrows/minute, sustainable for up to 20 minutes, amounting to 140 arrows.


    As for what Xiulote had read in novels before, about firing continuously for hours like rain, fighting hundreds with one, this should belong to the super warriors of a fantasy plane, or perhaps toy bows were being used.


    This time, Aweit evidently came prepared, and his shock was but a fleeting expression on his face.


    Then, he clapped his hands in applause and praised with a smile, "Xiulote, your grandfather really chose a good name for you, you are worthy of the name God of Death Xiulotel. With this weapon, the samurai¡¯s lives are like leaves, fluttering down amidst a rain of arrows!"


    Xiulote, clearly in an exceptionally excited state, glowed with a flushed face, exclaiming loudly, "Xiulotel is the God of Death and also the God of Thunder! This bow strikes like lightning, bringing death to our enemies, so why don¡¯t we call it ¡¯Xiulote¡¯s Bow¡¯? It shall sweep away all manner of demons and flatten all the pale-faced devils."


    Aweit rolled his eyes, an unusual gesture from him. He reached out to touch the young man¡¯s forehead, which was a bit feverish, likely from excessive excitement that resulted in such wild talk.


    "We¡¯ll talk about that later; right now, it¡¯s not suitable for you to be so ostentatious," Aweit said with a slight smile, then his grin disappeared, and he asked seriously, "How long does it take to make one of these bows?"


    Xiulote regained some composure. He thought carefully before responding cautiously.


    "The preparation of wood materials and the bow-making process can be separated. If there are sufficient materials and mastered skills, a skilled bowyer can make one or two usable ordinary longbows per day. However, if there is ample time, to make a truly excellent longbow would require several months, mainly to tame the bow correctly. Another limiting factor is the tools used for processing; only hard bronze tools can slowly cut through tough woods like santal and ironwood. Compared to that, the processing costs for cedar and oak are much lower. And compared to bow-making, the production of a large quantity of quality arrow shafts is even more time-consuming."


    Aweit paced back and forth on the spot, evidently pondering over something, hesitating.


    After a long while, he suddenly clapped his hands decisively, then with an extremely serious expression announced, "Keep the information about these bows and arrows confidential for now, make sure your followers keep tight-lipped. Keep the craftsmen under control, I¡¯ll arrange for wood to be harvested and bring you metal tools. We need to produce at least a hundred bows and thousands of arrows this month. I¡¯ll also secretly assign a hundred samurai to your command, to rotate through practicing archery."


    Xiulote realized that Aweit had a significant plan. The young man hesitated for a moment before asking, "What are you planning to do?"


    Aweit simply shook his head gravely. His handsome face took on a stern aspect, "I can¡¯t say right now, nor am I certain to act on it. But we must be prepared now for that fleeting opportunity that might arise. Rest assured, I won¡¯t act rashly, nor will I risk you. We are now in this together!"


    Xiulote no longer hesitated. The youth stepped forward, holding Aweit¡¯s shoulders firmly and nodding with conviction, "I believe in you."


    Aweit smiled slightly after hearing this, hinting at deeper meaning, "We will change everything!"


    Their eyes met for a moment, and a nameless impulse surged within them. They then burst into hearty laughter, the sound reaching the heavens, where a majestic eagle was soaring freely above the Nine Heavens.


    Subsequently, Xiulote gathered his followers to strictly guard the news of the Longbow. Bertade arranged for twenty Samurai to closely protect Kuode and the Craftsmen¡¯s safety while also assisting them with various tasks.


    In the following days, Kuode designed different types of Arrows, each handed over to Bertade for testing.


    Of course, the arrows for the bow were not of a single type, and different arrows had different functions. The commonly used War Arrows were about 75 centimeters long, similar to those used by the English. The shaft was made of sturdy oak, making it less likely to deform or be destroyed by the force of launch. Most arrowheads were made of cheap wooden Bone materials, while a few costly Bronze ones existed to deal with different targets. The light arrows with stone or wooden tips were for unarmored or Light Armor targets. At that time, Bronze arrowheads were considered Heavy Arrows, designed to penetrate Samurai Leather Armor.


    For a high-quality Longbow with considerable draw weight, the shaft must be sturdy, made of good wood, and sufficiently weighty. Too light of a shaft cannot fully handle the kinetic energy transfer from the bow and may cause irreversible damage to it. Inferior shafts can break under the immense kinetic force, and worst case, burst at the moment of launch, potentially blinding the Archer. Similarly, once the arrow strikes the target, the shaft and fletching are usually completely destroyed, and those with cracks cannot be reused. Often, crafting the shafts took more time and resources than making the Longbows themselves.


    "The Longbow really is a massive consumer of wood, luckily, we can still afford it, " Xiulote remarked, no wonder the English not only planted their trees but also imported timber in large quantities.


    With current production capabilities, standard arrowheads were made of Bone and Obsidian, while sharp Copper heads were used temporarily as Armor-Piercing arrowheads. In the future, with the availability of iron, they could make even stronger Armor-Piercing iron or steel tips.


    In terms of the arrowhead¡¯s design, slender arrowheads had greater penetrating power against chainmail, while broad arrowheads had a better stopping and killing effect against Light Armor. Regarding the dimensions of the shaft, slender shafts were more suited for long-distance flight, whereas short, thick shafts increased close-range lethality.


    Therefore, historically, the Jurchen favored thick, short shafts with large heads for their Heavy Arrows, which worked well with their war bows that had high draw strength and draw length to severely injure Ming Dynasty Light Armor infantry and Cavalry. The Ottoman preferred slimmer shafts with pointed tips for their conical arrows, maintaining armor-piercing capability at a certain distance to defeat European chainmail Cavalry.


    Of course, when the distance was close enough, everyone would use Heavy Arrows to up the killing power.


    As for blunted, whistling, Crescent, and Triangular arrows, Xiulote didn¡¯t need them at the moment. He just wanted the Craftsmen to have a concept of them.


    A month quickly passed by, and over a hundred Longbows had been completed. Xiulote had his followers and Aweit¡¯s confidants practice Archery Martial Arts together. He also incorporated archery into his daily training routine.


    "Being skilled in archery is an essential trait for a lord, " Xiulote joked with a self-deprecating smile.


    In the blink of an eye, two weeks of May had passed, and the most important spring plowing of the year was finally completed. The thunderous rains of the rainy season came along with a dark sky, bringing incessant rain and Lightning.


    In the interval between storms, a Scout covered in wounds hurriedly arrived from the mountains in the south, bringing important news to Totec, "The Tarasco people across the Lerma River have mobilized. Tens of thousands of troops are amassed at Akanbaro on the southern bank of the great river, only a week¡¯s march from our army!"

 Chapter 49 - 41 Begin

    Jifeng shook the tent¡¯s canvas just as the bonfire inside flickered, casting sporadic light across the faces of the generals. The sudden rain pelted the soft earth, much like the scout¡¯s rapid narrative that stirred ripples of unease in everyone¡¯s heart.


    "The people of Tarasco have mobilized an army of over fifty thousand, the exact number unknown. The army includes the Royal Copper-axe Guards and a large number of Copper Spear Warriors. These legions are currently assembled in the Akanbaro area on the southern bank of the Lerma River, with more troops still on their way."


    "Scouts from the enemy side have now covered both banks of the Lerma River, making it impossible to gather more accurate information about the enemy. Near our siege camp at Otapan, we have spotted enemy scouts. It is estimated that Tarasco¡¯s army is just over a week¡¯s march from our camp."


    This was startling news, but it was not unexpected by the generals in the tent.


    Since the spring plowing had passed, the Tarascans had no other mobilization concerns and were bound to send troops. Their targets could either be the formidable Mexica army, the dying Otomi people, or both, ready for any change.


    The people in the tent began to whisper among themselves. Those attending today¡¯s council were generals directly loyal to the King, without any intentions to waver or advocate retreat like some City-State Legion Commanders. Regardless of their personal thoughts, everyone would follow the King¡¯s orders.


    Xiulote stood at the edge of the tent, using his peripheral vision to observe the King seated high on the dais.


    Tizoc, in the center of the tent, wore only a light ceremonial garb today and a simple Feather Crown, not making much effort to maintain the "majesty of a god". His complexion was noticeably paler than at the last council, showing signs of poor sleep due to the prolonged siege, which troubled him deeply.


    At that moment, his cheeks displayed an unhealthy flush, a combined effect of emotional agitation and the irritability of insomnia.


    After listening to the scout¡¯s report, Tizoc took a deep breath to calm himself before speaking gravely, "The movements of the Tarascans are unclear. We need to detach a force to guard the south at the Lerma River. First, to use the river to hold back the Tarascans, and second, to establish a supply route to the Capital through the river and open up an additional food supply channel."


    "Who do you think is suitable?" After speaking, Tizoc¡¯s piercing gaze swept over each commander present, closely observing their expressions.


    Casal stepped forward with his head held high, his confident demeanor underpinned by a strong desire for victory. "Please give me twenty thousand warriors, and I shall defeat the Tarascans in one fell swoop!" sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tizoc remained silent, merely nodding subtly. Then, his gaze shifted to Aweit.


    Aweit gravely nodded, "The Tarascans are formidable opponents. It¡¯s enough to hold them back. This southern mission will not only need warriors, but also militia to construct and defend strongholds. Supreme Commander Totec is adept at using troops and has an acute grasp of the situation, making him the most suitable candidate."


    The King observed Aweit¡¯s expression, seeing only genuine sincerity. He slightly nodded, then turned to Totec, "Supreme Commander, what is your opinion?"


    Totec thought briefly before confidently saying, "I recommend Aweit. I can handle the Tarascans, but the siege of Otapan is more crucial. Aweit has fought the Tarascans in the past two years with mixed results, understanding their tactics well. Moreover, the purpose of this detachment is confrontation and defense, not offense, and Aweit is very good at defense. Therefore, he is more suitable!"


    Tizoc pondered for a moment, lightly tapping his fingers on the throne¡¯s stone surface. Then, he stared at Aweit for a few more seconds and finally nodded.


    "Aweit, you will be the commander of the Southern Army detachment." Tizoc¡¯s gaze remained on his brother¡¯s face.


    "We currently have nearly twenty thousand direct warriors and twenty-four thousand City-State Warriors. For this mission south, I can only provide you with fifteen thousand!"


    Tizoc¡¯s gaze became sharp. "No matter how many soldiers the Tarascans have, you must hold the northern bank of the Lerma River, prevent them from crossing it until Otapan City falls! Messengers have already sent word to the Capital, and new legions are being mobilized. Just hold for a month, and you will have continuous reinforcements."


    Aweit gravely bowed his head, "I will follow your will, my King."


    Then, looking up at Tizoc, he sincerely said, "Fifteen thousand warriors already stretch my command capabilities and are enough to resist the Tarascans. However, this mission south might be very challenging. I need ten thousand direct legion warriors and a thousand from the Jaguar Warrior Brigade as the core. They are more loyal and can endure longer."


    Tizoc hesitated a bit. If so, beside him, there would be less than ten thousand direct warriors left, a thousand direct Eagle Warriors, and five hundred Tonsured Guards. This would reduce his core forces to about ten thousand.


    The King looked towards his most trusted Supreme Commander.


    Totec nodded in affirmation, "This is the correct tactical decision. The front line¡¯s resistance must rely on the direct core; the City-State legions are willing to endure much less in casualties. The remaining ten thousand direct warriors in the camp will suffice to command the twenty thousand City-State Warriors in the siege."


    The theologian king then nodded, "Aweit, I will give you ten thousand direct warriors. Do you have any other requests?"


    Aweit thought seriously for a moment, "I need fifteen thousand direct militia, who will be used to construct and garrison the camps. Finally, I also want command authority over the Capital¡¯s boat corps, to establish a water-based grain transport route."


    The king looked deeply at Aweit, then majestically agreed, "All these are granted to you! Remember, hold the Lerma River fast, do not allow the Tarasco people to cross. If the Tarasco people do not attack, you are not allowed to cross the river to strike them! Lastly, without my orders, you are not allowed to retreat!"


    Aweit then bowed deeply, hiding his expression, revealing only his absolute obedience to the king.


    After discussing the critical issue of the Southern Army, the meeting proceeded relaxedly and swiftly.


    During this period, the army¡¯s logistics lines were occasionally attacked by Otomi Warrior squads and Toltec rebels. The Otomi people had city-states for support, whereas the Toltec rebels did not.


    Totec then dispatched large numbers of scouts into the deep mountains and found more than a dozen villages where Toltec people gathered. Following this, he sent two hundred Tonsured Guards and eight hundred veteran warriors, slinking deep into the mountains. These elite battle warriors cold-bloodedly wiped out all the Toltec people they encountered. Not even the rebels could escape the single combat prowess of the Tonsured Guards, which was even above that of the Jaguar Warriors.


    Now the logistics line was restored to normal again. The sole enemy of the grain supply was the perpetual, humid rainy season, known as "Treading the Wind and Dancing with Thunder."


    The meeting soon concluded. During this time, King Tizoc did not spare any extra energy on Xiulote, not even inquiring about the youth¡¯s prior ambush. He merely advised, "You must continue to study the trebuchet!" before discussing other matters with Totec again.


    The army was quickly reorganized. In less than two days, the troops were divided.


    Thus, on a gloomy rainy morning, Aweit, dressed in the bright Sun Stone cloak with a nearly three-meter high heavy back-flag tied behind him, resolutely led the thirty thousand strong army out.


    There were no horses, no carriages. The commanders at all levels could only walk, using tall back-flags to signify their identities. Aweit¡¯s back-flag was a giant yellow canopy supported by a long wooden frame, with equally dazzling green feathers. It was the symbol of the army¡¯s supreme commander, ensuring its visibility to all soldiers at a glance.


    In this era, one could not be a commander if they were not physically robust.


    At this moment, Aweit appeared somewhat spirited. After leaving the besieged camp, he faced the light drizzle, listened to the joyous cries of the swifts, and smiling, said to Xiulote, "The corn has already sprouted; the rainy season has finally begun!"


    Behind the supreme commander, a thousand elite Jaguar Warrior Brigade surrounded him, still the core of the large army.


    The Jaguar and the Eagle Warrior Battalions were both elite shield-bearing groups, with the Jaguar favoring flexible offensive assault and the Eagle leaning towards heavy shield defense strategies. The Tonsured Guard was scarce in number but boasted outstanding single-combat martial skills and absolute loyalty to the king.


    The ten thousand direct warriors boasted high morale, as they were the backbone of the army. Ten direct warrior camps were arrayed front and back, leading the five thousand City-State Warriors with ordinary morale, as well as the fifteen thousand militia bearing provisions.


    Thus, thirty thousand people trudged through the constant drizzle, walking on the soft mud in the woods, following the gradually easing mountain terrain, and after a week of marching, finally arrived at the banks of the Lerma River.


    Xiulote climbed a high hill, looking toward both banks of the great river. Beneath his feet were undulating hills and trees, while the far shore was a mix of gentle slopes and fields, with the scouts of the Tarasco people faintly visible. Both riverbanks featured relatively flat mudflats, extending endlessly to the east and west.


    First, he looked westward, where the hundreds of meters wide Long River roared westward, passing through the western boundary of Tarasco people at Chapala Lake, and then wound its way into the distant Pacific Ocean. Then, he looked eastward. Here, paddling upstream alone in a canoe would take just ten days to reach the western City-States of Mexica, then the bustling Mexican Valley, and finally the great Lake Capital City.


    "Canoes and small boats are still too slow, averaging only about twenty kilometers per day against the current. If there were vehicles from the Celestial Empire, it would only take a few days to communicate from east to west," Xiulote thought absent-mindedly. But shipbuilding technology was difficult, not something one could imagine out of thin air.


    The Lerma River, this seven hundred fifty-kilometer Long River, originating from the center of the Mexican Plateau, connected the three cities of the capital, western Mexica cities, the Otomi City-State group, the Tarasco City-State group, and went straight into the Pacific Ocean on the far west.


    "This truly is the core waterway of the Central American Empire!" Xiulote exclaimed. Canals were the lifeblood of classical empires, and their surrounding areas were the core of effective governance.


    The youth¡¯s thoughts seemed to travel through time and space, reaching that far-off flourishing future: "The north¡¯s Tampen River, the central Lerma River, and the south¡¯s Balsas River, these will be the future¡¯s Yellow River, Yangtze River, and Pearl River of the Empire!"

 Chapter 50 - 42: Divine Eagle and Cactus

    "What a grand river!" Xiulote stood on the hill, looking at the Lerma River, and couldn¡¯t help but feel moved.


    "Indeed, it really is a grand river!" Aweit also stood by, the command flag on his back raised high.


    He looked toward the East where the river originated, then to the northeast where Xilotepec City was located, and finally to the north where the King¡¯s camp lay, sincerely admiring it all.


    "Xiulote, do you know what¡¯s so great about this river?" Aweit asked with a smile.


    "What¡¯s great about the river? It must be that marching along the river is fast, and transporting provisions is convenient," the clever youth understood immediately.


    "Right. And this location is especially good," Aweit nodded in agreement. "Do you know, how long does it take from here to the Mexica¡¯s main camp outside Xilotepec City?"


    "I¡¯m not like you, having fought wars around here, how would I know the exact terrain?" the young man shook his head.


    "From here to the main camp outside Xilotepec City, it¡¯s just eleven days. Seven days by water route heading east, then four days by land turning northeast. Tell me, how long did it take us from Xilotepec to Otapan?"


    "Oh, that stretch through the forest, about sixteen days," the young man recalled the difficult trek through the woods.


    "Exactly, sixteen days without enemy interference. From here, it¡¯s at least five days faster," Aweit became a bit excited, "Do you still remember, from Xilotepec to Otapan, how many mountain camps did the army set up along the way to transport provisions?"


    "Four, roughly spaced three days apart each," he answered.


    "That¡¯s it! From here to the closest mountain camp outside Xilotepec¡¯s main camp, it¡¯s just nine days. Six days by water, three days by land. That¡¯s also the essential route from Otapan¡¯s main camp to Xilotepec¡¯s main camp!"


    Aweit laughed and patted the command flag behind him, causing the large umbrella above to sway, "From the siege camp to that place, it takes at least thirteen days."


    "It¡¯s only four days faster, what are you so excited about, Aweit?" the young man looked incredulously at Aweit, then noticed the flag that was three meters tall and still swaying, feeling a pain in his back.


    This thing was only slightly smaller than the four-meter-high King¡¯s commander¡¯s flag, but the commander¡¯s flag was always placed on the King¡¯s litter and didn¡¯t need to be carried by oneself.


    "Four days faster! Well, it¡¯s useless for now, but it means we have the initiative. The eagle must catch the breeze to fly fast enough to snatch the racing hare," Aweit said.


    "The premise is you¡¯ve got to spot the hare first," Xiulote had already guessed something; he too had soaring ambitions, but everything had to follow the course of events.


    "So, we stay put right here," Aweit laughed heartily. "Just like you said, guarding the stake, waiting for the rabbit to come crashing into it."


    "A stake is easy to guard, but this river isn¡¯t so easy," the youth looked at the Tarasco patrol squad on the opposite bank of the river, their hands holding gleaming copper spears, staring across the river at the grand Mexica army. Further back, a few scouts were running swiftly to relay messages.


    "But there¡¯s this command flag," Aweit said with a smile, patting the tall flag again. This action seemed to give him particular joy.


    "Are you that happy to carry a flag? That umbrella flag looks heavy. Walking with it all the time, don¡¯t you feel tired?" Xiulote asked with some concern, "Take a rest, let someone else help you carry it!"


    "This represents the highest command over thirty thousand men. A power bestowed by the Heavenly Divine, how can I pass it to someone else?" Aweit said with a smile, then changed his tone, "How about this, you help me carry it?"


    The young man quickly waved his hands, refusing; the flag was heavy, and he was no fool: "You just said it represents power, how can you just hand it over to someone else?"


    "Handing it over to someone else is of course out of the question. However, you, Xiulote..." his teacher laughed, "If I give it to you, I could accept that."


    "Forget it, don¡¯t try to trick me into helping; it¡¯s too heavy," the wise young man had already seen through his teacher¡¯s ploy, "I¡¯m still a child, go easy on me."


    Aweit chuckled heartily. "You¡¯re still young, not realizing the benefits of this flag. When you grow up, you¡¯ll try every means to carry it. If it¡¯s light, you¡¯ll be dissatisfied and want to swap it for a heavier one¡ªthe heavier, the better. You wouldn¡¯t put it down even if it killed you." S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote grimaced, "I want to be the master of power, not the slave of power!"


    "Master? Slave?" Aweit pondered for a moment before saying, "That¡¯s a good analogy. So how do you plan to be the master?"


    "To be the master...hmm," the young man thought for a moment, his eyes swirling, "Maybe it¡¯s about restraining one¡¯s desires?"


    Aweit was tickled by the response. He patted Xiulote on the head, laughing, "You are the master, why should you restrain your desires? As a master, there¡¯s only one thing you need to learn: how to dominate your slaves, how to use your power!"


    Aweit once again brainwashed the young man with ancient ruling-class ideology.


    "In other words, you need to think about what to do with your power."


    "And what about you? What do you want to do with your power?" the youth countered.


    "I will use the power in my hands now," Aweit said, patting the Commander¡¯s flag again, "to catch the biggest, fastest rabbit. Thereby gaining more power!"


    "And after that?"


    "After that... the Divine Eagle will soar into the sky, and wherever Its gaze falls, that will be Its hunting ground, and it will ultimately become the realm of the gods," Aweit recited a sacrificial prayer softly. "I want to be the Divine Eagle, to conquer the whole world. What about you?"


    "The Cactus will penetrate the earth, and wherever It can touch, it binds the roots as one, thereby making it the homeland of the people," Xiulote followed with the next line of the prayer. "Then I will be the Cactus, to cement an Empire."


    "Then, the Divine Eagle alights on the Cactus. It makes a promise to the Mexica: the fields of corn and deer, the boundaries covered by heaven and earth, will all be your future!" The two of them continued to chant together, their voices growing louder and further, reaching up to the clouds and falling to the earth, like a vow offered to the divine.


    Their intense emotions infused their voices and stirred in their hearts. They stood side by side, gazing into the distance.


    After a long while, Aweit smiled lightly, "It seems a bit too far-fetched to discuss how to eat when the corn has just sprouted."


    Xiulote nodded in agreement, "Then let¡¯s drive the stakes in firmly, in case the rabbit does come, right?"


    The youth and the teacher looked at each other and burst into laughter.


    Immediately after, Aweit exercised the Commander¡¯s power, turning the North Coast of the Lerma River into a massive construction site.


    He first selected five highland hills by the river, each establishing a forward camp. The camps, relying on the terrain, were small but sturdy, spaced a few miles apart, thereby controlling an area suitable for crossing the river. The camps were like nails; even if the Tarascans crossed the river from afar, they would be threatened by these nails in their rear.


    Into each camp, Aweit placed three thousand Militia, a thousand City-State Warriors as the base forces, a hundred personal warriors, and ten military Merit Nobility Jaguars as the command hierarchy. Their mission wasn¡¯t to attack but to hold their ground for at least five days. Relying on the sturdy camps, the morale of the troops was maintained. With the advantage of the terrain, a single Militia could achieve half the combat strength of a Warrior.


    Next, Aweit built a large camp a day¡¯s distance from these small camps.


    He stationed ten thousand of his true elite troops here. They prepared in secret, out of sight of the enemy, ready to strike at the halfway point. This was the main force for field battles, maintaining the initiative in choosing the appropriate battlefield. Xiulote¡¯s newly formed Longbow Guards were also in this camp.


    Meanwhile, Aweit had long dispatched Envoys along the river to establish contact with the Capital¡¯s fleet. He was pushing for food supplies and reinforcements while demanding effective water intervention forces.


    In the tense atmosphere of military preparations, two weeks quickly passed. The first fleet of Mexica boats, finally arriving with food supplies, appeared like a column of ants from the upstream Capital.


    And the Tarascans had at last completed their assembly. An eighty-thousand-strong army approached majestically and set up a vast camp spanning several miles on the south bank of the Lerma River. Across from them, the Mexicas¡¯ camps, boats, and warriors formed a defensive line linked by mountain and river.

 Chapter 51 - 43: The World

    The drizzle was tireless as it fell, during the rainy season of June.


    Raindrops landed on the wide surface of the Lerma River, creating layers of ripples. A gentle breeze brushed across the fields of sprouting new shoots, where corn saplings were joyfully growing tall. Beneath the corn were the newly sprouted beans and squashes.


    Xiulote stood on the watchtower of the mountain stronghold, squeezed together with Aweit, looking towards the lake and camp on the opposite bank of the river. The Tarasco¡¯s patrol team was inspecting the riverbank in the rain, just like the Mexica army on this side.


    "I finally see the advantage of this flag. At least it can block the rain." Xiulote reached out to adjust the commander¡¯s flag on Aweit¡¯s back, ensuring the flag¡¯s umbrellalike top sheltered them both. "You just said this camp is the most important?"


    "Yes," Aweit, the commander, observed seriously the distant Tarasco main camp. "See that lake? That¡¯s Lake Cuitzeo; it connects at its northernmost end to Leman Lake, and then extends westward into the Tarasco¡¯s inland. From the southwestern end of Lake Cuitzeo, it takes only a week to reach the Tarasco¡¯s core hinterland, located in the Patzcuaro Valley, Patzcuaro Lake region."


    "Patzcuaro." Xiulote repeated the word twice, digesting the information. "The Prepetcha people?"


    "Smart." Aweit smiled slightly, "The Tarascos don¡¯t call themselves Tarasco, but Prepetcha. They name themselves after the most prosperous capital, the center of their group¡¯s rise, the Patzcuaro Valley. In fact, hundreds of years ago, they were just a branch of the Chichimeca Canine Descendants that moved southward, conquering the flourishing Bajio and Michoacan Tribes, and inherited the name Prepetcha."


    "I see! Just as we rose from the Mexica Valley and call ourselves Mexica, or Tenochca people. And foreign nations say we are the Aztec, from the distant Aztl¨¢n. So, our ancestors were also a branch of the Chichimeca Canine Descendants who moved south?" The clever young man deduced by analogy.


    "That¡¯s not something a priest should say." Aweit laughed, "When the Guardian God promised us, our name changed from Aztec to Mexica, who are destined to conquer the world."


    The world of the Mexica was indeed the extensive Mexican region of Central America.


    Xiulote agreed with a smile, switching to a more crucial topic: "If the Tarascos are our greatest rivals, then how many people do they have? How many armies can they mobilize?"


    Aweit contemplated, tracing figures in the air, and after a while, responded: "From the north at the Lerma River to south by both banks of the Balsas River, east next to the Mexica City-States, to the west around Lake Chapala are the lands controlled by the Tarasco City-State Alliance: the Michoacan region. The Tarasco alliance controls a population of over one million six hundred thousand."


    "Michoacan? Land of fishermen?"


    "Yes. The Tarasco controls the territories of Eight States. The three states around Lake Patzcuaro have approximately eight hundred thousand people, with its core being Qinchongcan, Ivachi, and Patzcuari. Among them, Qinchongcan City has the largest scale, with a city population of fifty thousand.


    In the western part of the Tarasco lands, the Chapala Lake region¡¯s two states house about six hundred thousand people. However, these two states are quite far from Qinchongcan, so the Tarasco king can¡¯t effectively control this area.


    The remaining two hundred thousand people are spread across three states between the lakes. Overall, populations tend to cluster near lakes because only lakes can support the highly productive Chinampa." S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In this era, state was a vague regional division. It could be a city-state plus attached villages, a cluster of a group, or a small area separated by terrain. Xiulote regarded it as the "county" concept in Huaxia. The Tarasco alliance controls eight counties, with the capital located in the county of Qinchongcan.


    "One million six hundred thousand people in the Tarasco Alliance, estimated to have fifty thousand samurai, twenty-five thousand from the Patzcuaro Lake region, directly controlled by the king. Another twenty thousand samurai belong to the highly autonomous Chapala Lake region, with the remaining five thousand from the three states between the lakes," Aweit continued to calculate.


    "One million six hundred thousand people with fifty thousand samurai, so that means one samurai for every thirty-two people?" Xiulote thought for a moment, truly fitting of the Warring States, a period of warfare and militarization that couldn¡¯t be maintained without high-yield crops.


    Aweit considered for a moment and nodded, "Overall, approximately that ratio. In the capitals of various tribes, the ratio of samurai being supported is higher, while in other areas, the samurai ratio is slightly lower."


    Xiulote nodded in understanding. The capitals of each tribe always had more resources, wealth, and population, supporting stronger military power, maintaining suppression over other alliance city-states.


    Simply put, the strongest is king, and the king is the strongest.


    "Then how many militia do the Tarascos have?" the youth asked again.


    "The number of militia is hard to determine, depending on whether it¡¯s the busy farming season or not, and the ruling power of the tribe. In an emergency mobilization, the numbers can be extreme." Aweit pondered, "Overall, a tribe¡¯s provisions can barely support up to double the samurai as militia. More than that would severely impact the food stores and production of the states, inevitably leading to famine."


    Speaking thus, Aweit looked meaningfully towards the north at Otapan City.


    Xiulote nodded understandingly, sighing softly.


    At this time, the tribes of Central America and the daimyo of Japan¡¯s Warring States era were somewhat similar, composed only of relatively wealthy city-state warriors and very poor village militia, forming a two-tier military system of samurai and peasant soldiers.

 Chapter 52 - 43: The World_2

    Unlike the Celestial Empire, there wasn¡¯t a developed class of small peasant farmers here. The peasant farmers were just beginning to emerge in economic and political terms, providing very few "good families¡¯ sons" or "household troops."


    "The Tarasco Alliance, Eight States, 1.6 million people, 50,000 Samurai/25,000 directly controlled, 100,000 Militia." This was the first time Xiulote had a clear understanding of a tribe¡¯s specific military strength.


    Naturally, he developed a more concerning question, "How many people do we have in our Mexica Alliance? How many Samurai?"


    Aweit smiled confidently, "Not counting those vassals, the great Mexica Alliance actually controls eleven states. The core is the Texcoco Lake District of the Mexican Valley, which has four thriving large states, about 1.5 million people in total."


    "The state where the capital is located has more than 500,000. And the capital of Mexica, the Lakeland City of Tenochtitlan, is unparalleled with 250,000 people! It is the ancestral land of the Mexica, the holy site on the lake, the giant city of White Stone, and the center of the world! No other city can compare to it." Unknowingly, Aweit¡¯s voice took on a sacred chant.


    Xiulote also nodded longingly. At this time, Tenochtitlan was the miracle city of Central America and the most magnificent city in all of America ¡ª not that section he saw in the future, hidden beneath the ground in ruins and remnants.


    The young man snapped out of his reverie, curious, "Aweit, how do you know all these numbers?"


    Aweit smiled slightly, his confidence filling the Commander¡¯s grin with charm, "In the entire Mexica Alliance, you can only ask me to find out these specific numbers. I am the chief Intelligence Officer of the Alliance, and here, only you can surpass me in mathematics."


    "Great! Please continue." Xiulote tiptoed, trying to pat his teacher and good friend on the head, but Aweit casually brushed it aside.


    "Texcoco Lake District has 1.5 million people, a domain directly controlled by the Royal Family, capable of mobilizing an overwhelming force of 50,000 directly controlled Samurai. This time, the King brought a full 40,000 direct troops to command the city-states. Of course, after several detachments and casualties along the way, he now has only 10,000 direct troops under his command."


    Aweit winked at the youth, who nodded in confirmation, receiving the information.


    "With the Lake District as the core, the two states in the west have 500,000 people, the three states in the south have 700,000 people, the two states in the north have 300,000 people, the entire Mexica Alliance has over three million people, firmly occupying the rich and prosperous highland valley!"


    "What about the eastern city-states?"


    "To the east of the Texcoco Lake District lies towering mountain ranges, within which are the smoking, fire-spouting mouths of demons; where are eastern city-states? Further east lies the territory of the Tlaxcala people."


    Xiulote was startled, then realized that to the east of the capital stood the towering Popocatepetl Volcano, also one of the few places in the Mexica Plateau where ice and snow could be seen.


    "West, south, north - seven states together also have 50,000 Samurai, similar to the four states directly under the Royal Family. The city of Teotihuacan is also one of the origins of royal lineage," Aweit said as he glanced at the youth with a smile.


    The youth was calculating seriously, "Mexica Alliance, Eleven States, three million people, 100,000 Samurai/50,000 directly controlled, 200,000 Militia." Indeed, it was the absolute dominant power of Central America.


    "What about our age-old enemies, the Tlaxcala people? How are they doing?" Xiulote couldn¡¯t wait to know more about this world.


    "The Tlaxcala people have four large states. The status of the four states actually isn¡¯t much different; they support each other, without the concept of being directly under the capital. The northern state of Tlaxcala and the southern state of Tepeyacak are stronger, each with 400,000 people. The central states of Weisoqinke and Cholula each have 200,000 people."


    "Cholula¡¯s center is the Holy City of Cholula City, home to the Nava religion, a position much elevated." Aweit explained seriously the intelligence of their archenemies,


    "The Tlaxcala people, like us Mexica, have an efficient military mobilization system, and their ratio of Samurai is also around one to thirty."


    Xiulote nodded in understanding; culturally and racially close, they were actually relatives loathe to kill each other. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tlaxcala Alliance, Four States, 1.2 million people, 40,000 Samurai, 80,000 Militia."


    "What about the Otomis we are currently subduing?" The youth looked toward the north.


    "The Otomi, they are a very loose alliance, centered only on Otapan City as their ancestral and defensive heartland. Mainly four states, Xilotepec State with 300,000 people, Otapan with over 200,000, Pamus with 200,000, Guamare with 300,000.


    Above all, Pamus and Guamare have many Chichimeca Canine Descendants, who do not submit to the Otomi Alliance but coexist interchangeably. Sometimes they integrate and at other times, they fight among themselves. In fact, the Otomi have long intermarried extensively with the various Canine Descendant tribes; the name of Guamare State itself comes from the Guamal Canine Descendants."


    Xiulote was somewhat surprised; could the Otomi really number nearly a million? Now... he recalled the red crossed circle on Totec¡¯s wooden board and the brutal sweeping by the army along the way, and could only shake his head.


    "Otomi Alliance, Four States, approximately 600,000 people, more than 20,000 Samurai, Militia not known."


    Standing atop the high Watchtower, the youth and his teacher were immersed in discussion about this world as if they held the world in their hearts. Before them lay a bustling and vast world. Their desire for the world fervently burned!


    "Chichimeca Canine Descendants are everywhere in the northwest highlands and deserts. They continuously migrate, roughly divided into eight tribes, without formal Samurai but the whole nation participates in the military. Near the four states of the Otomi, at least 700,000 Canine Descendants."

 Chapter 53 - 43 The World_3

    "Chichimeca Canine Descendants, known to be from Four States, with at least eight divisions, are a population of around seven hundred thousand. They are nomadic people without horses, and the whole population is ready for war."


    "The Vastec people are somewhat loyal vassals of the Alliance. They live scattered near the lake at the very end of the East, distributed across the northeastern plains. They once had an Alliance too, but it was long ago subjugated and dissolved by us."


    "They are natural musicians with a tradition of worshipping in the nude; they rarely wear clothes. Hmm, their young women are slender and excel in rhythmic dance." Aweit looked at the young man and smiled meaningfully.


    "The Vastec, scattered across Six States, with about six hundred thousand people, fifteen thousand Samurai, and thirty thousand Militia."


    "The Tekos live to the west and north of the Tarasco, near the lake at the edge of the West. They have a loose Alliance that the Tarasco Alliance constantly subjugates. Colima is their ancestral land with nearly two hundred thousand people, and there, the World¡¯s Fissure belches smoke and fire."


    "Tekos Alliance, Four States, seven hundred thousand people, twenty thousand Samurai, fifty thousand Militia."


    Colima? The name sounded very familiar to Xiulote. He racked his brain, searching through his memories.


    Colima, Colima Volcano? The famous "Volcano of Fire," extremely active. He recalled witnessing this volcano¡¯s eruption during a trip to Mexico; smoke billowing, blocking out the sun, shrouding the land in a spectacular display. It even caused nearby airports, ports, and iron mines to shut down.


    Iron mines? Iron mines! A flash of inspiration crossed Xiulote¡¯s mind; he suddenly remembered a piece of information that at the time seemed trivial but was now crucial.


    "Peyacolorado Large Iron Mine!" Xiulote was so excited he nearly jumped from the Watchtower, had it not been for Aweit¡¯s timely grasp.


    Because it lies in a geologically active volcanic belt, the state of Colima has an abundance of minerals. There lies Mexico¡¯s¡ªand indeed, Central America¡¯s¡ªlargest iron mine, Peyacolorado (hydrothermal apatite) magnetite deposit. The reserves are astonishing, with surface layers reaching fifty to three hundred meters thick, extending over several kilometers.


    "Colima, Iron Age, hope!" Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but whisper to himself, and gave Aweit another hug. The teacher was used to his student¡¯s nonsensical ramblings and occasional outbursts.


    When he had calmed down a bit, Xiulote realized that things were not so simple. Historically, the great iron mine of Colima was not discovered and exploited until the modern era because of three unfavorable factors.


    First, the main ore layer was located more than a hundred meters underground. The surface had only scattered iron ores. A hundred meters underground wasn¡¯t a big deal for later generations, but it was a massive challenge now, requiring ample manpower, resources, and copper pickaxes, after years of mining to proceed.


    Second, the mine was located in the mountains, where transportation was very inconvenient. Roads would have to be built to transport the iron ore.


    Third, the great iron mine was formed under the influence of magma, near the active Colima Volcano. There were potential risks in the mining process.


    However, no matter what, Xiulote would not let go of this great iron mine; it was the dawn and hope of a new era!


    During the subsequent conversation, the young man¡¯s mind was somewhat distracted; he only roughly recorded Aweit¡¯s introductions of the various Tribes.


    "Nava-Totonac people, Seven States, seven hundred thousand people. Twenty thousand Samurai, forty thousand Militia. Along the eastern coast, a loose City-State Alliance, incorporating some of the Toltec people."


    "The Jontal people, Four States, two hundred thousand people. Five thousand Samurai, ten thousand Militia. In the southern part of the Mexica Alliance, on both sides of the Balsas River, with village settlements and no cities. There¡¯s a continuous influx of Mexica people."


    "Mistec people, Five States, eight hundred thousand people. Twenty thousand Samurai, forty thousand Militia. To the south of the Tlaxcala Alliance, a loose City-State Alliance. They are the ¡¯Cloud People¡¯ of the mountains and ¡¯the best goldsmiths,¡¯ centered around Totoztepec State. One of the disloyal vassals of the Empire."


    "Zapotecs, Three States, five hundred thousand people. Fifteen thousand Samurai, thirty thousand Militia. East of the Mistec Alliance, a loose City-State Alliance, abundant in cochineal. The second disloyal vassal to the Empire. Beyond the Zapotecs to the east lies the fearsome, vast Rainforest, which leads to the Maya¡¯s unknown heartland." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tlapanec people, Four States, two hundred thousand people. Five thousand Samurai, ten thousand Militia. Southwest of the Mistec Alliance, along the Pacific Ocean coast¡ªan insignificant minor Force."


    "There are also wild Tribes scattered in the forests, large and small, impossible to count accurately. Wherever sweet potatoes can survive, there will be human habitation."


    "Eighty States under heaven, divided into five distant domains. Fifty years in the human world, nine Tribes united in a hundred battles!" The young man¡¯s heart surged and he couldn¡¯t help but chant a crooked poem. Then thinking again, fifty years in the human world? Bah, that¡¯s an ill omen, he misspoke just now.


    "What about the more distant Maya?" After a while, Xiulote asked Aweit with curiosity.


    Aweit racked his brain, contemplating for a long time, before answering: "That is the end of the world, endless southeastern Rainforest. The Maya people are roughly divided into three: the corn people of the northern Yucatan, the Itza corn people in the middle, and the K¡¯iche¡¯ corn people in the far south. Hm, corn people is the self-designation of the Maya."


    "And as for the more specific numbers?" the Commander finally shrugged, absolutely refusing to admit he didn¡¯t know. "Let¡¯s conquer the known world first, then go see what¡¯s at the edge of this world!"


    Xiulote then laughed loudly, and the two looked south again. Tarasco¡¯s Scouts were running toward the main camp in the south. After a while, a large group of elite Samurai clad in Armor emerged, each holding a huge Bronze Axe that glinted coldly. They exuded an intimidating killing intent and, escorting another tall banner, went straight to the Lerma River bank.


    The persistent drizzle finally ceased. Across the several hundred meters of the river, the two armies¡¯ Supreme Commander faced each other from opposite shores. The huge banners fluttered in the wind, saluting one another to signify the beginning of battle.

 Chapter 54 - 44: Tarasco Legion

    The drizzle had ceased, but the wind persisted. The feathered helmets of the warriors shook like the trees in the forest, ominously pointing towards the sky.


    Aweit carefully identified the flags on the opposite bank of the river, then suddenly smiled, "It¡¯s my old friend. The new Cazonci of Tarasca, Su¡¯angua, who ascended to the throne two years ago."


    "Su¡¯angua?" Xiulote curiously looked at the enemy commander surrounded by axe-wielding warriors. "Is he formidable?"


    "He¡¯s a decent commander, very tenacious in battle, and adept at motivating his troops," Aweit reflected.


    "He had just ascended the throne two years ago. My elder brother, the former King Asayacatl, thought it a good opportunity to subjugate Tarasca, so he mobilized thirty thousand samurai and seventy thousand militia, invading the Xitaqualo regions of the Tarascans from the southern states of the Alliance."


    "His health was already failing at the time, so he handed over the command of the hundred thousand troops to me. As the new Cazonci, Su¡¯angua also mobilized a hundred thousand, personally leading them to battle. Two hundred thousand troops were squeezed into the narrow area south of Toluca Mountain and north of the Balsas River. We fought fiercely for half a year, and the undulating highland terrain was everywhere bloodied."


    "The Mexica legion once gained an advantage. But the Tarascans relied on the mountains and rivers, stubbornly defending the fortresses of Cutzamala and Tlalchapa. Months later, as our vigor gradually waned and the samurai grew tired, Su¡¯angua found his opportunity in a major battle, leading three thousand Copper-axe Guards to strike at our two thousand Eagle Warrior Battalion and several thousand surrounding samurai, defeating our tactical core."


    "I was defeated in that battle," Aweit said wistfully, "The army retreated hastily, losing four hundred Eagle Nobility, over three thousand samurai, and nearly twenty thousand militia along the way." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That battle cost us three Xiquipilli legions. Of course, the Tarascans also lost a thousand Copper-axe Guards and eight thousand militia as cannon fodder. It was a Pyrrhic victory for them."


    Upon returning to the capital, I handed over the command of the army and took over the Alliance¡¯s intelligence and security tasks. A few months later, my elder brother Asayacatl died, and my brother who loved theology, Tizoc, succeeded him as the new Tratuoani."


    Aweit looked towards the Copper-axe Guards on the opposite bank, his eyes filled with reminiscence, contemplation, and a hint of regret usually deeply hidden.


    Xiulote watched the Copper Axe Warriors with interest. They were robust, wearing bronze pointed helmets and heavy bronze shoulder guards, clad in yellow leather armor, each holding a man-high bronze battle axe. The design of these two-handed battle axes could effectively breach heavy wooden shields. Clearly, they were meant to counter the elite shield-bearing units of the Aztec, especially the heavily shielded Eagle Warriors.


    The elite force comprised about two thousand warriors. They stood firm and solemn, their expressions steadfast, exuding a powerful beauty and the sharpness of metal.


    The young man observed carefully, sensing that the Tarascan forces already bore some characteristics of Ancient Greek legions. Bronze was used to manufacture helmets and weapons, although they evidently had not yet developed the technology for bronze armor.


    "Battle Axe Imperial Guards, elite, Two-Handed Battle-axe Soldiers, bronze helmets, leather armor, Medium Armor, high morale, average discipline, armor-piercing weapons, enhanced against Shield Soldiers. Excellent shock infantry."


    Xiulote nodded, "This unit poses a significant threat to the Jaguar and Eagle Warrior Battalions."


    Aweit laughed, "The Tarascans lack a military system for extensively training seasoned warriors; they can only organize such a Copper Axe strike force to counter our elite battalions.


    Of course, we don¡¯t want our Nobility battalions to exhaust themselves against these metal warriors. It takes at least twenty years to train a well-rounded Jaguar or Eagle Warrior. But these metal warriors only need a few years of battle axe training to be ready."


    Xiulote strongly agreed, the Jaguar or Eagle Warriors were like the Spartans of Ancient Greece. Their martial arts and physique needed to be honed from a young age and then tempered in war, with a training cycle close to twenty years."


    In the history of Huaxia, they would be likened to the Jurchen wearing white armor, high in both offense and defense, but difficult to replenish, only deployable on crucial battlefields. It wasn¡¯t that they couldn¡¯t defeat the high-attack Battle Axe Imperial Guards, but rather, they couldn¡¯t afford the exhaustion.


    The young man pondered for a moment, then smiled confidently, "Facing such unshielded infantry, our newly formed Longbow Guards can perfectly counter them!"


    The commanders on both sides of the river confirmed each others¡¯ identities and then stared silently at each other for a long time before each returning to their camp.


    The next day was an unusually sunny day, with morning light streaming through gaps in the clouds. Early in the morning, the Tarascan camp on the opposite bank was bustling, and eighty thousand troops marched out from the camp, forming a massive formation on the southern bank of the Lerma River.


    Aweit also ordered ten thousand personal samurai to his side, relying on the stronghold behind them, unfolding on the hills of the Lerma River¡¯s northern bank. A thousand Jaguar warriors with beast helmets lined up neatly, exuding a formidable wild power.


    However, Xiulote knew well that neither army on the riverbanks was the real protagonist of the war. The true forces shaping the course of this confrontation were the naval forces on both sides of the great river, consisting of thousands of canoes.


    The main characters remained unseen, while the supporting actors took the spotlight first.


    Xiulote looked toward the distant Tarasca military formations, where the cold light of bronze flickered under the sunlight.


    At the core position was Su¡¯angua, the King and Supreme Commander of Tarasca, surrounded by two thousand Copper-axe Guards. On the outer perimeter were thirty thousand Tarasca warriors, of whom it was estimated twenty thousand were directly under the king.


    Most of these warriors wore wooden helmets adorned with feathers, and a few wore quaint bronze helmets. They were clad in yellow or green leather armor, and many wore a string of gilded small stones around their necks, shining and shifting dazzlingly under the sunlight.


    Xiulote examined them closely and determined these were by-products from mining variegated copper ore, though he wondered what their purpose could be. Perhaps they were meant to dazzle an opponent¡¯s eyes?


    The Tarascan warriors mostly carried robust wooden shields in one hand, and in the other, they held copper spears about one and a half meters long. The warrior formations were somewhat clamorous and not very orderly. Many nobility warriors were waving bronze weapons at the Mexica legion on the north coast and banging on their expensive bronze shields, shouting threats.


    Based on the number of bronze shields, the young man concluded that Tarasca¡¯s bronze mining output was still limited.


    "The Tarasca warrior battalion, elite, spear soldiers, leather-medium armor, high morale, poor discipline. Mainly close combat infantry. Apart from the copper spears in their hands, these Tarasca warriors indeed fall behind the year-round fighting, well-trained Mexica warriors in discipline."


    On the perimeter of the thirty thousand warriors, Xiulote also spotted two interesting new units.


    The unit on the left was dressed in simple cloth garments, with circular cloth caps on their heads, holding approximately two and a half meters long copper spears with both hands. This battalion of long spear soldiers, around five thousand in number, stayed silent without much noise. They roughly formed a square formation, even more orderly than the Tarasca warriors.


    "What is this unit?" the young man asked curiously. On the face of it, these spear soldiers resembled somewhat the formations of Ancient Greek phalanxes, but upon closer observation of their simple equipment, they appeared more like the Japanese Ashigaru with Yari spears.


    Aweit smiled after a glance at the formation, "This is a new unit concocted by Tarasca, composed of miners from the copper mines, using long spears in formation for combat. When they cluster together, they indeed have some use; they can defeat militia and even small groups of warriors. But if a large group of warriors charges from behind or the side, they quickly can¡¯t hold up and scatter. Once dispersed, they are much easier to deal with, as simple as reaping cornstalks in the fields."


    Xiulote nodded, acknowledging the unit¡¯s weak equipment and insufficient martial skills and morale. If equipped with shields, armored, and strictly trained to form spear formations, they actually held significant potential.


    "Tarasca Long Spear Battalion, average, spear soldiers, cloth-unarmored, average morale, average discipline, basic long spear formation. A good militia for maintaining battle lines."


    Being able to organize structured miner soldiers proved Tarasca¡¯s mining industry had developed to a certain extent. The city¡¯s economy had developed enough, and among the nobility and peasants, a certain number of citizens and craftsmen had emerged. Similar to self-sustaining farmers, this class would provide the country with elite militia, or what might be called foot soldiers.


    "Look at the other side," Aweit pointed to the right side, indicating another interesting new unit.


    This unit also consisted of about five thousand members, but their weapons were very disorderly, including stone hammers, stone axes, copper spears, wooden shields, and even short bows. Their equipment varied in layers, mostly dressed in cloth garments, a few in leather armor, some even wearing wooden helmets with feathers. These disorganized fighters were currently shouting towards the north coast, appearing to have fairly good morale.


    "These are Tarasca¡¯s foreign mercenaries, with complex origins, harbored by the people of Tarasca for use on the battlefield. They include the untamed Chichimec people, the displaced Otomi people, Toltec defectors with deep grievances against the Alliance, and even some warriors who lost their lands. This unit is morale-rich expendable forces."


    Xiulote then understood that mercenaries were indeed destined to be cannon fodder.


    "Foreign mercenaries, average, miscellaneous soldiers, cloth-unarmored, high morale, poor discipline. Excellent cannon fodder for the front lines."


    Beyond the Tarasca military formation stretched the hillside, already familiar to Xiulote, filled with militia. These militia were still primarily armed with stone spears, a few with shields. They wore cloth garments or were simply bare-chested, with low morale and no formation to speak of. About one-eighth were slingers, barely qualifying as a ranged unit.


    The militia numbered a total of forty thousand. In any Alliance, they were the multifunctional expendable forces that could carry supplies, dig pits, build fortifications, and fill the battle lines to exhaust the opposing warriors¡¯ strength.


    This was the composition of the Tarasca legion: two thousand Copper-axe Guards as the core, thirty thousand warriors as the main force, and the remaining five thousand long spear soldiers and five thousand foreign mercenaries as quality cannon fodder, with the largest number being forty thousand ordinary cannon fodder.


    The two armies faced each other across the river. The Mexica warriors sat quietly on the hill, conserving their strength and observing the bustling opposite bank.


    The Tarascan army initially spread out into a semi-circle, with the guards and warriors sitting down to rest. Then, hundreds of militia walked to the front of the formation, where under the command of a dozen elder priests adorned with feather crowns, they constructed three large round platforms, several meters high and about ten meters in diameter.


    Finally, when the sun had risen to the middle of the sky, over a hundred priests draped with long feathers, wearing gourd necklaces, arrived. Carrying various implements, they ascended the platforms and under the gaze of a hundred thousand soldiers on both banks, began a captivating performance.

 Chapter 55 - 45 Pre-battle Sacrificial Rite

    The Lerma River flows from the highlands in the East, winding its way westward. The rainy season made the river surge, and here lies its natural crossing point, where the river is only two or three hundred meters wide.


    The Tarasco and Mexica¡¯s canoe fleets were docked on opposite banks. At this moment, the naval forces from both sides, along with a hundred thousand warriors, were intently watching the Tarasco¡¯s pre-battle sacrificial rites.


    Xiulote watched with great interest as his Tarasco companions carried out their morale-boosting performances.


    The priests wore feather crowns on their heads that spread out like fan palms, with a preference for indigo blue feathers. Around their necks, each wore a string of necklaces, at the center of which was one or several clay round containers shaped somewhat like gourds. The youth was curious what these "clay gourds" were for.


    The priests gradually placed sacrificial items on the newly constructed altars.


    The first altar symbolized the Tarasco¡¯s Chief Divine of the Sun, Curicaveri, who controlled the heavens of the universe and was the most important god. So, on their altar, the priests placed a golden sun with a diameter of several meters, reflecting dazzling golden light under the sun.


    The second altar symbolized the Tarasco¡¯s Earth Mother Goddess, Velavaperi, who controlled the earth of the universe and was also the deity that bestowed harvests and minerals. The priests then brought a huge piece of copper ore to place on her altar, its vein-patterned surface flowing like water ripples in the sunlight.


    "Where do these strange Tarasco people get their beliefs?" Xiulote was somewhat curious. "They neither worship the War God nor the Feathered Serpent Divine, completely different from the other Mexica tribes."


    "Their beliefs likely come from the Bajio and the Michoac¨¢n people they conquered hundreds of years ago¡ªit is the native belief of the Patzcuaro Lake region. They think the Patzcuaro Basin is the center of the universe, providing the force that drives the world¡¯s rotation. And the universe consists of three parts: the heavens, the earth, and the Land of the Dead beneath."


    "So the Tarasco have their own language, culture, and beliefs, living in seclusion from the rest of the world?"


    "Yes! That¡¯s also why the Tarasco people have no allies in the world," Aweit nodded.


    "But we Mexica people also have no allies," Xiulote responded.


    "The strongest don¡¯t need allies." The two laughed and continued to watch the ritual across the river.


    The last altar symbolized the Tarasco¡¯s Moon Goddess, Xaratanga, who was the daughter of the Chief Divine of the Sun and the Earth Mother Goddess, and who controlled the underground world of the universe, the Land of the Dead. The Tarasco people hold special veneration for the God of Death and had invented the "Day of the Dead" for "Xaratanga."


    Shortly after, dozens of priests carried over an exceptionally large clay jar filled with many yellow chunks. This was a symbol of the Moon Goddess.


    "What¡¯s in that clay jar?" Xiulote asked curiously.


    "That¡¯s the Stone of the Dead, collected from the fissures of the world, from the underground world of the dead, capable of communicating between the living and the Land of the Dead," Aweit said seriously, relaying the intelligence he knew.


    "???" The young man¡¯s head was a bit muddled. He knew about the world¡¯s fissures, probably referring to the volcanoes in the West. The underground world must mean beneath the ground. But what were these Stones of the Dead, capable of communication between life and death?... Could this be a fantastical plane?


    With seventy percent curiosity and thirty percent bewilderment, Xiulote continued watching.


    The Tarasco priests quickly finished placing the symbolic items. Then, in front of the three altars, laborers brought over large quantities of wood and thatch, piling them into a huge bonfire.


    Afterward, an exceptionally dignified old man with a splendid feather crown raised a torch high to ignite the bonfire, bestowing the "Divine Flame."


    The priests then borrowed the "Divine Flame" from the bonfire with a stick, gently touched it to the clay gourds, and then brought the gourds to their noses, obliviously inhaling the smoke that drifted out.


    "Is this divine smoke?" Xiulote asked, astonished.


    "Yes, unlike our own War Priests, the priests of Tarasco carry with them ¡¯Divine Smoke.¡¯ They infuse it with many strange plants and minerals, which is said to make it easier for them to communicate with the gods."


    The youth fell silent for a moment. Soon, the smoking priests descended into a world of fantasy as they began to dance violently on the divine platform, crafting a mysterious atmosphere with their bizarre gestures.


    The dance quickened, flames ascended, thick smoke rose into the sky, taking on peculiar shapes. The priests, both on and off the platform, chanted loudly together. The ancient and desolate spell echoed across the heavens, praying for the descent of the Heavenly Divines.


    Aweit provided a simple translation of the prayer on the side. First, it was a blessing for the Chief Divine of the Sun, followed by gratitude for the Earth Mother Goddess. Lastly, they communicated with the Moon God of the underworld, requesting Him to allow all warriors fallen in battle to be resurrected, to forever enjoy wealth and peace beneath the earth.


    Under the reverent gaze of warriors on both banks, the sacrificial rite on the divine platform finally reached its climax. The frenzied dancing priests took out Obsidian Daggers and without hesitation, they cut their own cheeks, allowing the blood to trace mysterious patterns. Then, the high-pitched prayer spread across both banks of the great river, calling out the name of ¡¯Xaratanga.¡¯


    The exceptionally dignified elder appeared once again. He directed dozens of priests to lift a gigantic clay pot from the Moon God¡¯s platform and hurl it into the burning pyre. The pot shattered instantly, yellow chunks scattered about, and then quickly ignited in the flames.


    Immediately after, an extraordinarily spectacular blue flame rose from the pyre, like a ghostly fire from the underworld, carrying a strangeness and beauty not of this world, imprinting itself wildly in the eyes of every onlooker. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At the moment the blue fire rose, all the people of Tarasco fell into an ecstatic trance. Whether samurai or militia, all eighty thousand warriors knelt down, collectively shouting ¡¯Xaratanga.¡¯


    This time, the shouting was like the thunder of the rainy season, splitting the clouds in the sky and blasting the fields on the ground, and it also shook the Mexica warriors on the opposite bank. Many warriors, in alarm, bowed down to the blue flames. Even the fierce and proud Jaguar warriors lost their color, showing fear of the foreign deity.


    At that moment, Aweit stood up abruptly, staring intently at the command flag on the opposite side. There was the only Tarascan who had not knelt down. Aweit could not see the person¡¯s face but was determined to remember him forever in his heart.


    Seeing the blue flame, Xiulote exclaimed in shock: "Good heavens! The Stone of the Dead, it¡¯s actually sulfur!"


    The youth estimated the size of the large clay pot that had just been broken, his face revealing contemplation.


    That the Tarascans of the early Bronze Age could easily produce a thousand pounds of sulfur indicated that there must be an enormous natural sulfur reserve within their controlled territory. And with an adequate supply of bat guano stones as a source of saltpetre along the western coastline and the islands of lower California, added to the ubiquitous timber for charcoal, gunpowder production in Central America was incredibly favored.


    The youth stared dreamily at the brilliant blue fire, its crystal-clear beauty almost like a blessing from the heavens: "As long as the bottleneck of the Iron Age is overcome, the era of gunpowder will promptly follow. The future is always full of hope!"


    Thus, Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but smile involuntarily, caught off guard as his teacher and friend suddenly pinched his cheek.


    Aweit asked seriously, "Xiulote, looking at that blue flame, do you believe the Tarascans just summoned the God of Death?"


    Xiulote was amused by his friend¡¯s seriousness: "That¡¯s just the color of a particular mineral when it burns. If we have sulfur, we too can produce blue fire."


    Aweit also breathed a sigh of relief, although he didn¡¯t believe it, he had been a little nervous.


    "You need to quickly organize a sacrificial rite to pray to the War God with the War Priests, to restore the morale of the Mexica warriors."


    After hearing this, Xiulote observed the warriors behind him and indeed saw that they were shaken and pale. These battle-hardened warriors, unafraid of death, were actually terrified by the myths and blue fire, their morale significantly lowered.


    The youth couldn¡¯t help but shake his head: "These heretics playing god!" Then he quickly directed the accompanying priests to start their own god-playing.


    The pre-war sacrificial rite on the opposite bank soon came to an end. The priests shouted loudly in a language the youth didn¡¯t understand, likely some promise in the name of divinity. Then, they saw thousands of warriors cheering loudly, their morale high as a rainbow.


    Inspired by the high morale, the first batch of five thousand Tarascan spearmen boarded their canoes, heading towards the North Coast with high spirits.

 Chapter 56 - 46 Water Battle

    Aweit stood solemnly on the hilltop on the north coast, overlooking the enemy with focused attention. By his side were dozens of drummers, conch shell players, and flag bearers, awaiting the commander¡¯s orders.


    This was the narrow crossing of the Lerma River, where, even during the rainy season when the waters rose, the widest part was only five or six hundred meters across, and the narrowest less than three hundred meters.


    The Tarasco people launched a river crossing operation over a range of more than ten miles. Hundreds of canoes, loaded with warriors wielding two-handed pikes, approached from the south like a fleet of arrows, almost instantly upon them.


    At the commander¡¯s order, a deep drum sound filled the great river. The Mexica canoes also surged forward. The paddlers accelerated to their maximum, and within moments, the fleets clashed fiercely.


    Xiulote felt the world pause for a split second, then thunderous chaos erupted.


    He saw two large boats collide head-on, halting their forward momentum with a thunderous impact. The boats shook violently, spinning in place, and then slammed against each other again. The sailors and militia on both sides did not wait for the boats to steady; they roared as they brandished their weapons, leaping onto the enemy vessel, entangling in fierce combat.


    A Mexica militiaman raised his shield diagonally with his left hand, deflecting an incoming stone spear, then immediately thrust an obsidian dagger with his right hand into the enemy¡¯s abdomen in front and stirred it clockwise with force. The Tarasco paddler screamed and fell backward into the water, turning the water red where he sank. The militiaman had just started to smile when he felt a sudden chill followed by intense pain in his chest, and his strength left him instantaneously. When he looked down, all he could see was a spear that had penetrated a full span into his flesh.


    The opposing Tarasco spearman then howled ferociously, drawing attention from nearby. He tried to pull out his spear, but it wouldn¡¯t budge. The thrust had been too powerful and too deep, getting stuck on the ribs. As he attempted again, a stone axe already came from behind and viciously struck his neck.


    The spearman¡¯s scream was cut in half as the axe fell again. Then, a sturdy barefoot kicked his twisted corpse into the churning river, swiftly erasing all traces of his existence.


    Between the large boats, they grappled with one another. And when a large boat faced a small one, it was a complete overpowering.


    The young man saw that when a dozen paddlers on a Mexica large boat put their force together, the boat lunged forward like a hunting cheetah, heading straight for several small boats on the opposite side. One small boat couldn¡¯t maneuver away in time and was struck directly on the side by the large vessel. The small boat was tilted and lifted forcefully until it capsized, dumping the people on board into the water, where they did not have time to swim before several stone spears pierced their heads like carving into a melon.


    Another small boat hastily turned away, narrowly avoiding a collision, and then spun to join alongside the large boat. Immediately, a dozen warriors on the large boat roared as they pounced forward, with their weapons outnumbering and skewering the few on the small boat into a bloody mess.


    The continued collisions eventually slowed the large boat, briefly floating on the water. Dozens of small boats spotted their chance and swarmed like wolves, surrounding the large vessel. Militiamen surged from all directions, spears thrusting repeatedly, with sounds of flesh being penetrated, and blood quickly drenched the deck.


    Battle on water was exceptionally cruel. The warriors were entangled with one another; weapons attacked from all directions while footing was constantly unsteady and slippery. Falling into the water often spelled death. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote, while distracted by the intense naval battle, quickly completed the blessing ceremony of the War God. After praying to the Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, the Mexica warriors finally found the courage to fight against the "Evil Spirit cultists" of the strange gods.


    Only then could the young man take a close look at the boats on the Great River. Here, whether Mexica or Tarasco, there were only paddle-driven, sailless canoes.


    The so-called canoe was made from a single tree trunk for the entire keel, with the trunk being hollowed out to form the body of the boat, and the ends, edges, and gunwales shaped accordingly. In this era, Central American shipbuilding techniques were limited; there was no method of iron nail reinforcement or keel splicing. Only when a giant tree was used could there be no risk of leaking or disintegration.


    Therefore, the length and width of a canoe were strictly limited by the size of the trunk. Large, broad trees such as birch and cedar were often the preferred choices for canoes. Fortuitously, the forests of Central America were dense, and centuries-old trees were common, providing ample material for canoes.


    The canoes on the battlefield were divided into large and small types. The large canoe was the nucleus of naval battles, requiring entire trees and a complicated construction process. It was at least fifteen meters long and three to four meters wide, allowing for four people to sit side by side. With a large trunk as the keel, the structure of the boat was stable, and it could be additionally widened on both sides, such as attaching broad rafts, to obtain greater transport capacity. Of course, the canoe rested close to the water¡¯s surface and was not particularly tall, so flagships often had a high platform built for the commander to observe the situation. Around the gunwales, many round shields were secured with ropes to protect the paddlers and warriors and to defend against stones and arrows.


    To effectively drive a large canoe, at least ten paddlers were needed. Besides the paddlers, a large boat could typically carry thirty warriors while maintaining enough space for them to wield their weapons. Large canoes were also used to transport bulky items. The ritual plates of Xilotepec City were transported back to Mexica¡¯s capital on large boats.


    Small canoes were the most numerous and easy to manufacture. They were generally no more than eight meters long and one and a half meters wide, enough for two people side by side. Effectively driving a small boat required only two paddlers, and sometimes even one person could manage. It could accommodate six warriors or an equivalent volume of cargo. This was also the most common vessel among fishermen and merchants.


    Xiulote knew that farther east, the Nava and Maya peoples possessed a type of "great ship" that sailed along the coast. These ¡¯great ships¡¯ required certain skills and rare giant trees to construct. They were thirty meters long and three to four meters wide. The width of canoes was strictly limited by the girth of the trees.


    These huge vessels capable of navigating the seas were both oar and sail powered, with a mast set in the center and a great rectangular sail. The sails were made of animal hides, cotton, or even hemp mats. With sails for propulsion, the ship required a minimum of only sixteen paddlers.


    The Nava and the Maya sailed these great ships across the boundless Great Lake, trading precious spices, gemstones, feathers, and sacred incense. The Maya had even sailed to the distant great islands to trade tobacco and cotton with the tribes of the Taino people. Those were the primitive yet densely populated islands of the Caribbean Sea.


    Xiulote shook his head, ceasing further thought. He silently estimated the number of Tarasco ships.


    Aweit had told him that this time the Mexica naval force had mobilized on a large scale, bringing in two hundred large ships and six hundred smaller ones from Lake Texcoco. However, the ships were not loaded with a full complement of naval forces, but rather half the space was used to carry provisions, so the naval force totaled around eight thousand men.


    The opposing Tarasco had roughly over a hundred large ships and eight hundred smaller ones, all fully loaded. The total came to about eleven thousand men, including five thousand militiamen armed with Long Spears. Although the Tarasco were people of the lake, their core area around Lake Patzcuaro was not connected to the Lerma River, hence they could not assemble enough large ships.


    In river warfare, big ships had the advantage over small ones, and more ships triumphed over fewer, especially when bows, catapults, and cannons were absent. The young man had contemplated the classic tactic of fire attack, and Aweit was momentarily tempted. However, after searching around, the two regrettably discovered that it was not possible to procure much oil on the spot. This was because animal fats were scarce, vegetable oils expensive, and high-oil-yielding crops had not yet been introduced to America.


    "When will we be able to go to Texas or Venezuela to drill for oil? Greek fire is a powerful weapon in naval warfare, although the exact formula is still unclear," Xiulote yearned, yet with a touch of self-mockery.


    "It seems that California also has plenty of oil, and the climate is warm and suitable, better than the frost-ridden north or the miasmic rainforests of the south. If shipbuilding technology allows, colonizing California would be a good choice."


    Besides fire attacks and long-range combat, the era of oar-and-sail ships also allowed for the installation of rams at the prow. The fierce charge of a large ship could easily rip through a smaller one. However, the Mexica lacked sufficient metal, and the Tarasco probably hadn¡¯t thought of it.


    Consequently, the river battle became a brutal boarding melee. Warriors on both sides fought desperately to the death, with militiamen screaming as they fell into the water, quickly causing the river to turn a spreading pale red.


    It only took a quarter of an hour till both sides had suffered a thousand casualties each. On land, the militiamen would likely have already collapsed, but the chaotic and vicious nature of naval engagements increased their endurance. Either an entire ship perished, or all aboard survived, leaving the vessel with sufficient morale.


    "The situation seems dire," the young man quickly calculated the casualty rate of the two sides, knowing the numbers wouldn¡¯t lie.


    Aweit frowned. Leveraging the advantages of large ships, the Mexica navy had initially gained some advantage in the collisions. But once they entered large-scale boarding combat, the disparity in numbers became apparent.


    "The Tarasco¡¯s Long Spears killed quite a few of our militiamen; we will lose if this continues," the Commander swiftly confirmed the situation.


    "Shall we let the Samurai or militiamen board the ships?" suggested the young man.


    "There¡¯s no need to wear ourselves out against them on the water. The loss ratio is too disadvantageous. Let their Long Spears board first, then we can devour them in one gulp," responded Aweit.


    Saying so, Aweit confidently clenched his fist as if he had the enemies on the river in his grasp.


    He immediately gave the order, and the sharp sound of conch shells echoed along both riverbanks. The Mexica ships began to retreat, slowly disengaging. The ten thousand Samurai directly under the Commander¡¯s command also arranged their weapons, ready to fight at any moment.


    The Tarasco fleet did not pursue, as crossing the river was still their priority. The paddlers sped up their advance, swiftly unloading large numbers of Long Spears militiamen on the river banks, then quickly returned to the south coast to transport another regiment.


    About five thousand Long Spears formed into small teams, creating several round formations. They were prepared to trade their lives for time, awaiting the arrival of the next wave of reinforcements.


    Meanwhile, not far on the nearby hills, the Mexica Samurai were already excitedly gripping shields and clubs, ready for a thoroughly satisfying melee.

 Chapter 57 - 47 Crossing the River

    Aweit stood aloft, calmly directing the battle. Behind him was the mountain camp they had set up, with the flags of various commanders fluttering above the camp. At his disposal were one thousand Jaguar Warrior Brigade, ten thousand direct Samurai, one thousand City-State Warriors, four thousand Militia, and eight thousand boat troops.


    Xiulote huddled nearby, watching the exciting battlefield while learning from the commanding experiences and occasionally offering some sneaky ideas. Behind him were over a hundred Longbow Guards.


    The sound of the attack drums continued to rise among the hills. As the two large flags waved to either side, four Mexica warrior camps split into two wings and suddenly charged down from the hills.


    The young man saw the warriors divide into agile squads, each enveloping the small formations of Spear Formation on either side of them.


    He saw a formation of two hundred Tarasco Spearmen who had just disembarked and gathered together. The sharp spears clumped together, shimmering with the cold light of bronze under the sun. Dozens of Mexica Warriors provoked them in front, shouting loudly, brandishing their weapons, and cautiously approaching with their shields raised, luring the spear formation¡¯s forward point. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At this moment, two hundred warriors had already swiftly crossed past the flanks of the spear formation. As soon as the spear formation stepped forward, a hundred-man squad led by experienced warriors immediately charged from the flank. The warriors used their shields as the vanguard, rapidly and fiercely colliding into the Spear Formation, infiltrating the enemy and disrupting the formation of the Spearmen. Then the War Clubs slashed diagonally from above, mercilessly smashing onto the unprotected sides and backs of the Spearmen. Utilizing the close-range advantage, they killed the enemies wielding long spears.


    At the initial point of the charge, the front rows of Spearmen were in chaos, falling one after another. Only the back rows of Longbowmen barely managed to react, beginning to stab from behind. These stabs were hard to defend against and armor-piercing, soon causing several warriors to fall to the ground.


    At this time, the second hundred-man squad finally circled to the rear side of the Spear Formation, and the warriors launched a second charge. The charge from behind was devastating, the Spear Formation was not thick enough to engage in combat on multiple fronts. The rear Spearmen, currently attacking the front, were utterly unprepared to face the attack and fell down one after another. They died instantaneously as if ice melted in boiling soup.


    Seeing the chaotic spear formation in front, the dozens of warriors who first lured the enemy no longer hesitated and charged forward with their shields, using sharp Stone Blades to tear apart the soft bodies. Under the triple-sided attack, the Tarasco Spear Formation quickly disorganized, morale rapidly declined, and then collapsed. Without coordinated Long Spears, they posed no threat, ineffectively grazing the approaching warriors in Leather Armor, and then failing under close combat as the Spearmen dropped like brittle straws beneath the clubs, silently withering in the wind.


    The young man took keen interest in the agile pincer attack of the warrior squads, mimicking the tactics of hunting packs of Coyotes. In eliminating a two hundred-man Spear Formation, the Mexica warriors suffered casualties of no more than ten people.


    The hundred-man squads were led by seasoned warriors. These battle-hardened, low-level officers formed the backbone of the army, controlling the smallest tactical units. They were experienced, akin to the Mongolian Centurions, capable of launching very sophisticated small-scale tactics based on their own assessments of the situation.


    This tactic of outnumbering and multi-directional hunting carried on ceaselessly, and in just a quarter of an hour, out of five thousand Spearmen, over a thousand were consumed, while the warriors¡¯ casualties were less than one-twentieth. The remaining Spearmen did not blindly scatter and charge, nor did they ultimately collapse and disperse. Instead, they kept gathering toward the center, eventually forming a large formation of three thousand five hundred Spearmen. Under command, the formation gradually turned spherical, tens of layers thick like a giant hedgehog.


    Dozens of young warriors, flushed with victory, chased after the remnants of the enemy. Confidently, they charged at the large Spear Formation, only to be met by three layers of hundreds of long spears. After just over a dozen charges, the shield of one warrior was skewed aside, revealing a gap on the right.


    Immediately after, several Long Spears thrust from the right side, piercing through Leather Armor with a few puncturing sounds, half a scream as the shield hit the ground, blood splattering as the body fell. The young warriors quickly paid with their lives, staining the golden spear tips with their fresh blood.


    The drumming paused, and the long, echoing sound of a horn filled the air. The Mexica warriors then stopped advancing and gathered, slowly retreating. They formed four warrior camps, partially encircling the large Spear Formation from three directions, while the North Coast raged behind them. By this time, the Tarasco boatmen had returned to the southern shore, and the second batch of foreign Mercenary troops began embarking.


    "This miner-composed Spear Formation isn¡¯t bad. Even after crossing the river, they managed to form up again; suffering over a thousand casualties without collapsing. If not for their poor equipment, they would have also been considered strong forces. No wonder they were the first to cross the river," remarked Xiulote.


    "Yes, the discipline of this Spear Formation is indeed good, probably even better than that of the warriors opposite them. But their morale is very low now. If it weren¡¯t for their backs against the Long River with no way to retreat, they would have scattered long ago. If all of them had Leather Armor, the warriors¡¯ casualties would have been much higher," agreed Aweit, nodding.


    "But even the most elite militia are just expendable. The first ones sent over are meant to lay down their lives just to provide footing for the Samurai," the Commander said with a smile, stating the cruel reality.


    "What do we do now?" the young man asked, pointing to the porcupine-like spear formation. "Do we attack forcefully? The second river-crossing legion is almost ready to set off."


    "A forceful attack would cause too many casualties," Aweit shook his head. "Use long-range attacks. First, send out a thousand stone throwers to harass them. The Jaguar Warrior Brigade¡¯s javelins are limited; they need to be kept in reserve. For now, let¡¯s use the new Longbow Guards to shoot from a distance and test the new troops¡¯ capabilities."


    "This unique formation of spearmen relies entirely on alignment. As soon as their formation wavers, and the spearmen disperse or sally forth, the Samurai can surprise them from the flank and rear," the Commander said, showing his teeth in a grin.


    A thousand stone-throwing troops quickly left the camp, advancing to a distance of eighty steps from the spear formation. Stones the size of goose eggs fell like raindrops, causing chaos within the spear ranks. However, despite the impressive sound of stones, each volley only killed about twenty men; the spear formation struggled to hold on.


    Next, Bertade led more than a hundred Longbow Guards to a position ninety steps from the spear formation. Under the protection of a Samurai company, the Longbow Warriors began stable, level shooting. Facing such a dense spear formation from close range, the longbows unleashed impressive power.


    Xiulote saw a dashing Samurai draw his bow to the full, squinting slightly as he aimed, before releasing the arrow. A 75-cm bone arrow whistled through the air, easily tearing through the thin cloth of the front-line spearmen¡¯s uniform, piercing his warm chest, exiting from a narrow back, and then embedding in the arm of another spearman behind him.


    Two spears fell to the ground simultaneously, as the front-line spearmen collapsed powerlessly, bringing down their comrades behind them. Warm liquid flowed from their chests, seeping into the ground, making their bodies cold.


    Over a hundred longbowmen, shooting levelly from ninety steps. Facing an unprotected, dense spear formation, each round of shooting took more than ten lives and injured many more, with six rounds a minute. After five minutes of longbow firing, the front rows of the great spear formation were immediately disarrayed. The heavily injured front-line spearmen could no longer endure the one-sided attack and, howling, charged toward the Longbow Warriors.


    The Longbow Warriors immediately fell back, retreating thirty to forty steps, then continued shooting from another direction. The Samurai company behind them immediately advanced with shields, their coordinated, agile attacks turning the small groups of charging spearmen into corpses.


    Spurred by the charge, a part of the spearmen also attacked while others hesitated in place, causing the formation to scatter. At that moment, a middle-aged, burly man in leather armor, wearing a helmet and appearing to be a leader, roared within the formation. He swung his arms as if trying to maintain the order of the formation.


    Bertade¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, his eagle-like gaze locking onto the leader in the center. With a composed expression, he took a bronze arrow from his quiver. Then, the Head Warrior nocked the arrow, drawing the bow fully, closed one eye to aim, and slightly pursed his lips, holding his breath gently. A moment of stillness followed by a sharp whistling sound.


    A long arrow, fast as a shooting star, traced a hardly visible trajectory, bypassing surrounding spearmen and diagonally plunging into the eye of the middle-aged man. The arrowhead exited from the back of his head, and the burly man immediately fell silent, tilting his head and dropping to the ground. The surrounding spearmen instantly buzzed in shock.


    Bertade then breathed a sigh of relief: after years of using a short bow and practicing the longbow for so long, he finally managed to hit the head!


    With the death of the spearmen commander, the formation of spearmen could no longer be maintained. The longbowmen continued their fire for another five minutes, then had to stop.


    The opposing circular formation had become a broken wave. Four Samurai companies launched charges from three sides, mixing chaotically with the Militia and Samurai, who could now freely engage in close combat. Spears broke, blood flowed, and the remaining spearmen gradually retreated towards the great river behind them, Tarasco people falling in despairing screams.


    Meanwhile, under the harassment of the Mexica navy, the second batch of Tarasco people finally reached the North Coast. Five thousand foreign mercenaries, their morale high, roared as they jumped from their ships, charging without hesitation toward the hill where the commander¡¯s banner flew.

 Chapter 58: Article 48: Crossing the River Below

    Aweit furrowed his brows, looking at the enemy fiercely charging in and ordered again.


    Immediately, the Longbow Guards swiftly retreated, moving up the hill; they stopped shooting, trying to regain their arm strength.


    Meanwhile, four Samurai battalions pounced from the mountain, raising shields and wielding clubs, crashing into the oncoming foreign Mercenaries. In an instant, weapons and shields intertwined, war cries and roars resonated together.


    These wild warriors, with disheveled hair and chaotic weapons, were ferociously fierce. They barely defended but swung their Stone Axes and War Clubs, attacking with a disregard for their lives.


    Xiulote watched a skinny Chichimeca Canine Descendant, like a Coyote, pounce forward, clinging tightly to a Samurai¡¯s shield. His back was subsequently shattered by a War Club, his body bent, yet still twisted and hanging on the shield. The Samurai could only throw away the shield in his left hand. Another small Canine Descendant, seeing the opportunity, swung the double-handed Stone Axe forcefully, smashing it into the Samurai¡¯s waist.


    The Samurai winced, his body bending at the waist, his left hand pulling out a short blade, stabbing into the Canine Descendant¡¯s thigh root, blood immediately gushing. Yet the small Canine Descendant laughed maniacally, ignoring his own wound, and with all his might, swung the Stone Axe again. The axe smashed into the Samurai¡¯s head, cracking a deep indentation, and the latter died instantly. The Canine Descendant then collapsed to the ground with a laugh, dying intertwined with the Samurai, as if harboring an irreconcilable hatred towards the Mexica.


    "Truly reckless and fierce, with a readiness to embrace death," the young man couldn¡¯t help but exclaim. The battlefield below was only about one hundred fifty paces from him, and he looked at the twisted, entangled bodies nearby, feeling a chill in his heart.


    "If it were the Otomi people and Toltec rebels fighting so desperately, it would indeed be understandable," Xiulote thought, "but the Chichimeca Canine Descendants don¡¯t need to be this crazy."


    "Chichimeca Canine Descendants are inherently fierce and fearless of death; they are accustomed to death, and death is a part of their life," Aweit seriously explained as if seeing through the young man¡¯s thoughts.


    "These Chichimeca Canine Descendants roam the deserts, the Gobi, and the grasslands of the northwest, rarely engaging in farming, but rather chasing prey. They hunt deer, bison, wolves, jaguars, lions, turkeys, birds, fish, and even humans¡ªanything they can eat," he continued.


    "The Canine Descendants are divided into tribes, constantly migrating, hunting, and raiding southward. They reproduce rapidly when food is plentiful and kill each other when food is scarce. The elderly of the tribes are driven out without hesitation, becoming prey to wolves and other tribes. The perennial wind, sand, and cold cause them to age rapidly; apart from Shamans and Chiefs, few live beyond forty years," he added.


    "Their lives are like those of wild beasts, and death is all too common. They kill each other over food and water, fight over women, and fight to become leaders. A cold wave, a drought, or a food shortage would start a great chaotic battle. Tribes would hunt each other, using their weaker members to survive through times of hunger," Aweit elaborated.


    Listening to this, and then observing the frenzied battle below, the young man felt his scalp tingle. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "They pose little threat to our City-States and legions; they only frequently destroy the villages on the border. Only the cowardly Otomi would offer them food in exchange for peace," Aweit commented disdainfully, looking at the frenzied Canine Descendants.


    "That¡¯s because they don¡¯t yet have horses or cattle, sheep," Xiulote realized. The North America bison could not be domesticated, and the Spanish had not yet brought horses. The Chichimeca Canine Descendants were still in the most primitive stage of nomadic tribes, not yet a threat to the agricultural City-States of Central America, but already showing extreme belligerence and madness.


    Once they had horses, allowing the tribes to move quickly and unite, raising cattle and sheep, increasing the population of the nomadic tribes, and learning Archery to enhance their ranged attack capabilities, they would become Central America¡¯s most enduring border trouble, much like the nomadic tribes that continually arose on the borders of the Celestial Empire.


    Xiulote knew that the Spaniards would later fight a fifty-year Chichimeca War with the Chichimeca people. In the war, the Chichimeca learned horse riding, archery, the use of Matchlock Guns, and even survived epidemics, ultimately forcing the Spanish to seek peace with their nomadic guerrilla warfare.


    The Spanish could only resort to conciliation, providing food, tools, domestic animals, and land for free, using Missionaries and settlements to assimilate the Canine Descendants, gradually eliminating the northern border trouble over a century.


    The young man continued watching the carnage below. In general, the four thousand Mexica Samurai still had the upper hand. Shields and Leather Armor effectively increased their survival rate, and proficient Martial Arts also allowed them to kill the enemies faster. However, the casualty rate of the Samurai was already far higher than in the fights against the Spear warriors, with nearly one Samurai falling for every five Chichimeca people.


    In the moments of discussion, nearly a hundred Samurai had died. Seeing the Canine Descendants¡¯ stubborn fight to the death, would they really lose a thousand Samurai? Xiulote shook his head. Observing the entangled frontlines again, the Longbow Warriors clearly could not shoot as well.


    "The losses are too great; how about deploying Jaguar Warriors?" the young man suggested.


    Aweit looked towards the distance, noticing that Tarasco¡¯s fleet had just returned to the opposite bank, loading the third batch of the legion. From the looks of it, it seemed to be warriors holding Wooden Shields and Copper Spears and wearing Leather Armor and helmets. He now had a thousand Jaguars, three thousand Samurai, and four thousand Militia at his command.


    The Commander first nodded, then shook his head. Soon, several battle flags waved, and a series of battle drums sounded.

 Chapter 59 - 48: Crossing the River Part 2

    One thousand Jaguar warriors, like beasts unleashed from their chains, ferociously pounced from the flanks into the shattered Spear formations, completely scattering the Spear infantry. Their Beast Helmets glinted as they mimicked the roars of lions and tigers, swinging their War Clubs like lightning with full force. The remaining Spearmen struggled for just a few moments before their morale collapsed under the continuous strikes, and then, in groups, they threw down their weapons and desperately leapt into the river behind them.


    At the same time, three thousand Militia emerged from the camp, spurred on by two hundred Commanders¡¯ Escort, and charged at the Canine Descendants engaged in combat. The Militia swung their simple Stone Spears and Stone Hammers, bypassing the dense formations of the warriors, and swiftly advanced to the front lines of battle with the Canine Descendants. Their Stone Spears could pierce the unprotected bodies of the Canine Descendants, while the latter¡¯s Stone Axes could easily knock down the Militia, and both sides rapidly collapsed in the fray.


    The four groups of Samurai tactfully retreated simultaneously, recuperating while reorganizing their formation. Once a degree of organization had been restored, the Commanders of each group automatically fanned out to the sides, attempting to encircle the flanks and rear of the Canine Descendants. The Commanders¡¯ Escort also continued to supervise from behind the Militia, maintaining their morale. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Now, Aweit only had three thousand warriors, a thousand Javelin Militia, and a hundred Longbow Guards. The third flotilla of Tarasco was carrying another five thousand warriors towards the North Coast.


    The Commander issued another order, and the Mexica¡¯s naval forces began doing their utmost to disrupt the enemy¡¯s flotilla, hindering the enemy¡¯s river crossing. From time to time, a large Mexica vessel launched a charge, ramming into Tarasco¡¯s smaller boats from both sides. Then there was a loud boom, a massive collision of kinetic energy, hurling the warriors and Paddlers on board into the river.


    Then the large boat¡¯s Paddlers exerted force once more, while the Militia fought as they swiftly retreated. Before the warriors on other boats could gather, the large vessel disengaged. Then, after a short rest to allow the Paddlers to regain strength, they struck again. The purpose of this attack wasn¡¯t to cause massive casualties but to leverage the large vessel¡¯s advantages to delay the enemy flotilla¡¯s movement while preserving their own forces.


    It had only been a quarter-hour since the Spear infantry¡¯s morale had collapsed, and the encirclement was already in its deadly final phase. The Tarasco people had either put down their Spears, surrendered, or jumped into the water. The Long River behind them made the pursuit north extraordinarily swift and straightforward. The warriors suffered casualties only during the brief stalemate, with nearly two hundred warriors dying in that quarter-hour. Following the Jaguar warriors¡¯ pounce, it was a one-sided slaughter.


    A short blast of a conch shell sounded again, and as the battle flags waved, one thousand Jaguar warriors began to reestablish order. Their discipline was the highest, gradually retreating back up to the hill to regroup. Meanwhile, the four thousand pursuing warriors had completely dispersed, fiercely chasing the struggling Spearmen along the riverbanks and in the river, and it would take a long time to reform their ranks.


    At this time, the remaining four thousand foreign Mercenaries had completely fallen into the encirclement of the Samurai and Militia. The Militia on the front line exchanged lives brutally with the Canine Descendants. The Samurai, from the rear and flanks, utilized their numerical advantage and fully leveraged their shields and formation to steadily harvest the furious enemy.


    At that moment, the five thousand Tarasco warriors finally began to land, the elite shield-bearing, spear-holding men approaching to assemble. Soon, two Samurai camps had formed on the beachhead.


    Aweit issued another order, and the Longbow Warriors, within ninety paces, swiftly shot at the Tarasco warriors. They fired 10 arrows per minute, and at full exertion, they could continue for a maximum of ten minutes. The fierce Heavy Arrows were strong and substantial, pounding into the warriors¡¯ shields with a thudding sound, and occasionally a clanging sound from the rare Bronze Shields.


    But through the gaps between the shields, occasionally, a Longbow Arrow would tear through Armor-Piercing, whistling into the flesh followed by subdued agonizing screams and a thump as bodies fell. From time to time, a seasoned Longbow Warrior would slow the firing rate, carefully aiming for a moment, then a swift arrow would shoot forth, striking an enemy¡¯s face, penetrating the skull, a one-shot kill.


    Facing the spread-out, shielded, Armor-wearing elite warriors, the Longbow¡¯s lethality was much reduced, as even the close-range Heavy Arrows were often blocked by the shields. In five minutes of rapid firing, about three hundred Tarasco warriors fell, their fate unknown. The Commander sent out the last three Samurai camps, guarding beside the Longbow Guards, waiting for the enemy warriors¡¯ charge.


    The one thousand Jaguar warriors who had fallen back to the hill had just finished forming ranks. Each took up all three of their Throwing Spears, inserting one into the Javelin Thrower, and then ran toward the flanks of the Tarasco warriors. At a distance of twenty paces, they suddenly roared like tigers, hurling the Throwing Spears in their hands. The heavy Javelin Spears traced a visibly curved path, but with unstoppable kinetic energy, snapped through wooden shields and pierced into the enemy¡¯s torsos.


    The powerful kinetic energy instantly knocked the stricken warriors to the ground, the large spear tips causing severe wounds. Those hit were either critically injured or killed instantly, only Bronze Shields could marginally defend. Just the first round of throwing spears had caused a hundred or more warriors to fall, the powerful strike instantly loosening the enemy¡¯s formation and shaking their morale.


    The Jaguar warriors rested briefly on the spot, inserting the second Throwing Spear to prepare. Suddenly, a shrill conch sound came from the south bank, signaling a retreat. The Tarasco naval forces immediately began to reload the warriors who had just disembarked. Unwillingly, these warriors waved their Copper Spears, and then, following a loud command from a Commander on a large vessel, they turned and reluctantly boarded the ship.

 Chapter 60 - 48 Crossing the River Part 3

    Bertade aimed at the command ship of the Tarasco for a moment, then helplessly shifted away.


    He casually shot dead a samurai who was loudly roaring and brandishing his spear, leaving himself wide open. The great boat was a full one hundred and twenty paces from him, and the enemy commander carefully hid among his escorts. The boat was still constantly moving and drifting, without the slightest certainty of hitting the target.


    The Jaguar Warriors¡¯ second volley of javelins only hit a tail, and the third round was even more lackluster. The archers shot at the boats for another five minutes until they were exhausted. The Tarasco¡¯s fleet had already embarked on their return journey south, leaving behind fewer than a thousand warriors¡¯ corpses on the shore, a timely cut of their losses.


    The southbound boats paid no mind to the spear militia struggling to approach through the water, simply leaving these unarmed expendables to the still-harassing Mexica fleet. The Mexica fleet did not continue to entangle with the boats carrying warriors; instead, they gathered on the river near the North Coast, easily reaping the remaining soldiers in the water.


    The waves gently submerged the fallen warriors, then curling and taking some away, leaving others to resurface lightly, as if these were bloody ornaments adorning the twilight of the battlefield.


    The surviving two thousand foreign mercenaries finally awoke from their frenzy. Watching the departing fleet, the remaining Otomi and Toltec rebels completely lost their morale. They turned around and knelt, surrendering weakly, then awaited the merciless blow that came their way.


    In this cruel quarter of an hour of slaughter, the Mexica lost a full three hundred warriors, nearly twelve hundred militia. The militia at one point fled in disarray, and the rear guard of the commanders mercilessly killed nearly a hundred men before once again driving the militia forward.


    The remaining nearly thousand Canine Descendants then let out the howls of coyotes, the sound they knew best from their homeland. The howling, as a charge for battle, accompanied every Chichimec person throughout their life; they were born, matured, mated, and fought to it, and if they were lucky enough to grow old, they would meet their end in the belly of a wolf.


    In their final frenzy, the Canine Descendants charged toward the flag of the commander up on the hill, forcing the commander¡¯s escort to join the fight.


    Xiulote watched as the last Canine Descendant died fifty paces away from him, his arm broken by a war club, a back embedded with an arrow from Bertade. His mouth was tightly biting into the neck of a militiaman, the two embracing death together, with a bizarre and twisted smile at the corners of their mouths.


    The youth shook his head; this last struggle of the Canine Descendants had taken another five hundred militia, as well as more than fifty warriors. The Mexica warriors had gradually found a way to deal with the Canine Descendants: warriors nearby cooperated with each other, forming tight formations, protecting themselves with multiple shields, and focusing on outnumbering the enemy. Then they aimed to strike the head or neck of the Canine Descendants, aiming for a fatal blow, not giving the enemy a chance to struggle in their death throes.


    "Aweit, have the warriors hold back, and leave me a few captains of the spear militia," Xiulote said, grabbing the commander¡¯s arm.


    "You plan to form a unit of spear militia?" Aweit broke away from the serious command, a smile forming on his face.


    "Yes. There are many gold and silver mines being worked in the Mexica city-states. I plan to recruit some miners and train them," the youth said confidently with a smile, pointing at the spears scattered on the ground. "We just happen to have a batch of bronze spearheads now."


    "Alright. It¡¯s all up to you," Aweit laughed heartily. "This time we owe it to the Longbow Warriors you assembled, their lethality and explosive power are astonishing! The arrows can even break the enemy¡¯s formation, seizing the initiative of tactics. I really like this unit; we should give priority to expanding their numbers."


    "Great! Once this battle is over, we¡¯ll continue making longbows," Xiulote nodded, then looked towards the battlefield strewn with the dead. Warriors were standing in blood-soaked water, shouting and cheering, gesturing defiantly at the retreating Tarasco fleet. "Is the fight over?" sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The fight is over," said Aweit, looking towards the Tarasco camp on the south bank of the river.


    The Tarasco King¡¯s flag was still flying. Beneath the flag, there were continuous tents, tens of thousands of warriors waving copper spears, militia covering the hillsides, and small boats transporting food across the distant lake.


    "But the war has just begun!"

 Chapter 61 - 49 Waiting

    The setting sun painted the sky a hazy red, as if the eyes of the gods were watching over the earth, reveling in the grand slaughter of humanity, savoring the sacrificial rites and offerings. Then, with a smile, He caused ripples of crimson to dance upon the Long River, sweeping away all the icy sacrifices, before contentedly closing His eyes, plunging the world into darkness.


    The fierce battle finally drew to a close, with small fires sparking to life on both banks of the great river. The Militia had already cleaned up the battlefield. They buried the fallen warriors, collected the remaining weapons and Armor, and gathered the prisoners together.


    The battle to cross the river lasted an afternoon, and the Tarasco people suffered devastating casualties.


    Blocked by the Long River, the Spear-carrying Militia and the foreign Mercenary units were annihilated. Only a few lucky survivors managed to swim across the Long River and escape to the southern bank. The losses of the two elite Militia units totaled ten thousand, while the last batch of landing Samurai also suffered nearly a thousand casualties. At this moment, on the southern shore, Priests once again ascended the sacred platform, igniting the ethereal blue flames, guiding the departed souls to the infinitely beautiful underworld.


    The Mexica people also faced significant losses. Three hundred Samurai fell in combat against the Spear-carrying Militia, and the clash with the Mercenary units cost nearly four hundred warriors, totaling seven hundred fallen Samurai, along with one thousand eight hundred Militia. The majority of casualties occurred during the brutal melee and entanglement phases, particularly against the Canine Descendants. These fearless Light Infantry instilled a deep wariness in Xiulote.


    The Aztec Alliance was accustomed to conquest and had a well-established healing system. At this time, the injured were being treated. The limited amount of agave juice and inkwood leaves used for stopping blood and disinfection were reserved for those with severe injuries. Xiulote, along with his followers, boiled water to sterilize cloth strips, performing simple disinfections and bandaging for those with minor wounds.


    In this battle, the Longbow Warriors played a decisive role. In an America without Cavalry, the tactical importance of Archers was irreplaceable. The close-quarter shooting of the Longbow Warriors completely disrupted the densely packed Spear formations, allowing Samurai to break through and engage in close combat.


    Furthermore, the output from Longbows was sufficiently powerful; the damage exceeded everyone¡¯s expectations. Medium-range Longbow shots were enough to threaten targets wearing Leather Armor. For the first time, the Samurai¡¯s lives were so fragile. Landing Samurai on the riverbank fell like cherry blossoms under Longbows, causing the command of the opposing Commander to falter immediately. After roughly estimating the potential casualties among the Samurai, the Tarasco people decisively retreated to the south bank.


    After nightfall, a grand funeral took place. With limited food supplies for the isolated army, many prisoners were captured, but the young Priests only deliberately preserved dozens of the Spear-carrying Militia. The rest were given over to the fire pits, ceremonial dances, prayers, Sacrifices, and Blessings.


    At the end of the sacrificial rite, dawn lit the sky. After loudly bidding farewell to the Guardian God, the Warriors respectfully added the names "Aweit" and "Xiulote." They blessed the victorious Commander and the divinely protected Priest, offering earnest respect and loyalty from their hearts.


    A profound battle, a sacrifice, the hearts of the people, and a glimmer of the future.


    The Mexica people held the southern bank, and what followed was a prolonged standoff. The Tarasco people quickly ferried three to four thousand Militia across the river upstream and downstream, making a gesture of flanking with over a hundred Samurai leading the way.


    Yet Aweit remained unmoved, simply amassing boats to block the river passages upstream and downstream. An enemy without a stable supply line posed no threat; the morale of the three to four thousand Militia who crossed quickly diminished, and their formations became disordered. The Commander dispatched five hundred Mexica Samurai to scatter the crossing Militia groups, annihilate the enemy¡¯s Samurai core, and left the remaining Militia to their fate.


    The ten thousand main force of Mexica Samurai remained closely gathered, relying on the sturdy fortification of their camp, waiting for the Tarasco army. However, the Tarasco people suddenly lost the desire for a major offensive. They merely continued to build strong fortresses on the south bank and assembled more boats.


    The Samurai of both sides looked across the river at each other, the Priests¡¯ ceremonies were unceasing, and Commanders faced each other from a distance, yet they maintained a strange calm.


    Over the course of more than half a month, Xiulote continued the rigorous training of the Samurai. The physical condition of a Warrior was not built overnight, and firm will was shaped through sweat and hardship. Bertade¡¯s Archery skills improved remarkably rapidly. Given his foundation in Javelin throwing and thirty years of training as a Samurai, he was now only missing a poplar tree away from being able to shoot through one from a hundred paces.


    The youth also began to learn Archery. In this era of military revolution, even if heroes like Lv Bu and Zhao Yun were resurrected, they could not stand against Matchlock Guns and cannons. Archery, at least, was considered to be a safe and powerful option. For the rest of his time, he kept a close eye on Kuode¡¯s Longbow making. The elderly Craftsman and other craftsmen were kept close at hand by Aweit, nominally as engineers for the fortress construction. Over this half a month, the Longbow Guards indeed acquired twenty more Longbows. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the afternoon, there was a new breakthrough in the organization of written characters. Xiulote found that his followers who were learning Chinese characters would actively make familiar patterns and symbols from their life to assist in understanding and annotating pronunciation.


    Aweit enthusiastically took part in the second phase of script development: relying on the complete system of Chinese characters, integrating the Mexica¡¯s nascent pictographic characters to organize simple phonetic and semantic symbols, aiding in the learning, understanding, memorization, and pronunciation for ordinary people. In this way, for the Priest and Great Nobility classes, they had the cultural capacity to grasp the complete system of Chinese characters. For the average warrior and commoner, mastering daily written characters and traditional language was sufficient.

 Chapter 62 - 49 Waiting_2

    Xiulote watched for a while, feeling an odd sense of familiarity: wasn¡¯t this just like the Japanese hiragana and katakana? Both were acquired from the Celestial Empire during the tribal era as a phonetic understanding of their own language, and they would ultimately follow a similar path towards integrating Huaxia culture and developing their own civilization.


    And as the evening mist blurred the surroundings and daylight hid behind the clouds, the young man would stand atop the riverbank hill, gazing as the Long River flowed westward into the ocean of his memories; watching the Naval Forces of both sides intertwine on the water, sparring like the Mori clan, then dispersing, the Militia retrieving the fallen ships, heading back to camp to eat.


    This sudden tranquility left Xiulote somewhat perplexed.


    He found Aweit, the teacher, busy recording the consumption of food with Chinese characters and Mexica simplified script, as the camp now maintained a supply of provisions for over a month. A new fleet was gathering in the Capital.


    "Aweit, what exactly are the Tarasco people across the river up to? Why have they only attacked once? They still have seventy thousand men," the young man asked, puzzled.


    "Because they can¡¯t find an easy opportunity for victory. Or rather, the cost of winning the battle is too great," Aweit said with a slight smile, exuding full confidence.


    "But last time they crossed the river, they had the chance to win," the young man thought for a moment.


    "At that time, their first group of Spear soldiers and the second group of Mercenaries had already pinned down our eight thousand Samurai. If their third group of five thousand Samurai crossed the river, they would have engaged our remaining Samurai. Then the fourth group of five thousand could have attacked the four Mexica Samurai camps that had just defeated the Spear soldiers. The fifth group of Samurai could have gained the upper hand, and the sixth group would have been sure to secure the victory!"


    "Then under Longbows, Javelins, and War Clubs, how many Samurai would they lose?" the Commander asked with a smile. "Besides, I wouldn¡¯t allow the fourth group of Samurai to be transported smoothly. The Naval Forces were ready to fully engage the enemy, blocking the transportation for at least a quarter of an hour. By the time our side had dealt with the Spear soldiers and held off the Canine Descendants, we could surround and eliminate the five thousand Tarasco Samurai. Su¡¯angua¡¯s throne would then become unstable."


    "That¡¯s true, to defeat us they would at least have to lose five thousand Samurai," the young man nodded, "The Naval and Land Forces can cooperate with each other, producing a greater effect. The Naval Forces here are crucial, capable of impeding the enemy¡¯s troop transports at any time, allowing us to have a local numerical advantage, then our superior Land Forces can easily annihilate the enemy."


    "What if they give up this crossing and head north from another place?" the young man asked again.


    "Our point here is like a Wooden Spike, stuck in the eye of the Tarasco waist. Places within a five-day march are vaguely under our control, their supply line threatened by both our Land and Naval Forces. If the Tarasco people recklessly head north, once their supply line is cut, the Otomi will have no food to rescue them."


    "A force without supplies has no combat power to speak of," Aweit patiently explained, seizing the opportunity to teach Xiulote basic tactical skills.


    "So, they must pull out this Wooden Spike we¡¯ve implanted?"


    "If they really want to head north. they have to take down our stronghold," Aweit nodded. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If they find the right moment and secretly transport thirty thousand Samurai across the river, we would likely be unable to beat them," the young man seriously evaluated the casualties on both sides, believing in the truths mathematics revealed.


    "Haha, if they really can get all their Samurai across the river, we indeed would have difficulty winning a head-on fight," Aweit chuckled cunningly, "At that time, we would all hide in the camp and defend to the death. This camp is prepared for such a defense."


    "With thirty thousand Samurai surrounding us, the food in the camp could only last a month," the young man unexpectedly worried.


    "If the Tarasco people really do get their thirty thousand Samurai across and surround the stronghold, that would be better than anything!" Aweit laughed heartily. "Stationing troops under a fortress, with a great river behind them and enemy ships obstructing transportation."


    "At that time, Totec won¡¯t even bother sieging Otapan City! He¡¯ll just lead his army south, striking from inside and out, with the fleet blocking the river. Once we¡¯ve eliminated those thirty thousand Tarasco Samurai, the Tarasco people will be on the brink of extinction!" The Commander laughed with joy, looking forward to that future.


    The youth nodded in understanding, "So, the Tarasco people don¡¯t have the assurance of defeating us. Then why do they send out troops?"


    "In war, who can be sure of defeating their opponent?" Aweit stopped smiling, becoming more serious, "It¡¯s all about terrain domination, seizing the situation, and then waiting for the right moment."


    "What is the situation?" The youth asked, half understanding and half confused.


    "The situation. This Lerma River, this mountain encampment, that is the situation! Relying on this river, the enemy¡¯s forces cannot advance en masse, their numerical advantage cannot be brought into play, and they must also contend with our naval forces disrupting their grain supply lines. Relying on this mountain stronghold, we can hold out, using a small number of troops to counter a large number, and can fully utilize the power of archery."


    "Terrain domination is about enhancing our army¡¯s capability to exert a greater effect! Restricting the enemy¡¯s troops to achieve a lesser effect!"


    Aweit confidently concluded, "Not having secured this strategic location beforehand, is Su¡¯angua¡¯s greatest mistake."


    "So, what are the Tarasco people still doing on the south bank?" The youth pondered for a moment, a flash of insight, "Gathering so many troops, consuming so much provisions, there must be a purpose."


    Hearing this, the commander¡¯s pupils contracted slightly, snapping out of the pride of recent victory.


    He turned his back, pacing and thinking, "By staying here, the Tarasco people can only achieve one effect, and that is to tie down our army."


    Aweit slapped his hands together, "It is likely that this was their original intention. The battle at the river crossing must have been a spontaneous decision by Su¡¯angua after seeing me, an old friend!"


    "It seems that although the Tarasco people haven¡¯t taken the advantageous position, they are waiting for the right moment... I see now!"


    "What moment?" The youth was curious.


    "We will know soon enough," Aweit¡¯s eyes suddenly became deep, "because Otapan City cannot hold out for much longer."


    In the blink of an eye, it was August, and the rainy season greeted its most fervent period. Torrential rain turned into thick ropes in the sky, and the surging river waters submerged the previously used fords, bringing complete calm to both camps.


    Xiulote quickly adapted to the regular life: training, studying, instructing, researching, and reflecting. Every day was full of strength and purpose, and he was becoming a pillar for those around him. Confidence and resolve shone on his face as if destiny and fighting spirit were burning in his heart.


    One evening, as he stood on a hill once again looking at the distant boats, a small canoe suddenly, deftly arrived at the new crossing, and a young man descended from the boat, dressed simply and with a gentle face.


    Xiulote rubbed his eyes, almost unable to believe what he saw.


    "Acap! What brings you here?" The youth strode forward and wrapped his childhood friend in a hug, joyfully asking.


    "Wow, not seeing you for a year, Xiulote you¡¯ve completely changed, now you seem to possess the air of a commanding officer," Acap smiled softly, his demeanor gentle as jade.


    "I¡¯ve come this time due to a previous agreement between the High Priest and the king¡¯s younger brother," Acap said seriously, "I also bring an extremely important message!"

 Chapter 63 - 50 Covenant

    Clad in a simple straw raincoat and wearing a broad hat woven from reeds, Xiulote led the Messenger Acap through the camp. The large raindrops struck the wide brim of the hat, their pitter-patter drowning out all other sounds between heaven and earth.


    "How did Grandfather come to know Aweit?" the youth asked curiously. In his previous memories, he had not heard any information on this matter.


    "The High Priest and the Royal Family of Tenochtitlan definitely knew each other. He is also a royal elder who has come from the time of Montezuma I. Becoming the High Priest of Teotihuacan was inseparable from the strong support of Montezuma I," Acap explained gently.


    "However, the High Priest had always kept a neutral distance from the legitimate lineage of the Capital¡¯s Royal Family," Acap sighed softly, his eyes filled with tenderness as he looked at the youth. "When you were taken away by the King, the High Priest had two restless days of sleep. After that, he made up his mind to secretly contact the King¡¯s brother and ask for his help in looking after you."


    Xiulote nodded with some enlightenment. In the world of adults, every act of kindness has its original source. Under Tizoc¡¯s suspicion, his situation had once become very dangerous. If it weren¡¯t for Aweit¡¯s secret help, he might have already faced a grim fate.


    The two quickly arrived at the grand tent. Seeing the youth and the Messenger, the Commander laughed heartily and strode forward. He warmly grasped both of their arms, pulling them into the tent with an air of familiarity that transcended formality.


    Acap smiled helplessly, apparently also having met Aweit several times. He removed his straw raincoat and hat, solemnly paid his respects to the King¡¯s brother, and only then did the three of them sit cross-legged inside the grand tent.


    The thick cotton cloth isolated the wind and rain outside, providing a sense of intimate warmth and safety. The campfire flickered in the brazier, drying the rain on their bodies and casting a flickering light on their faces. The tent was momentarily silent.


    After a long while, seemingly having completely dried off, Acap spoke calmly, "Your Highness Aweit, before I set out, I received an urgent message. The people of Tlaxcala have amassed on a large scale at the northeast border of the Alliance. Nearly eighty thousand of the Four States¡¯ Allied Forces are estimated, with about forty thousand Samurai."


    "The City-States in the eastern part of Mexica have been mobilizing, calling up Militia and Samurai. Atotoztli, the most bordering State, has urgently requested help from the Alliance. When I was coming here, four of the six legions beneath Xilotepec City had already crossed the Tampen River, moving towards Atotoztli."


    Aweit nodded calmly, obviously already aware of this news: "Atotoztli has been a long-standing battleground, replete with fortresses and sturdy City-States, not so easily to fall. The Tlaxcala people may not be able to sustain the heavy casualties of a siege attack."


    "It¡¯s just that the legion commanders of the eastern City-States have long wanted to withdraw, stirring up a fuss in the camp with this news. Hence, Tizoc decided to dispatch four legions there, to silence everyone¡¯s mouths." S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Although not in Otapan¡¯s besieging camp, the Chief Intelligence Officer knew everything that happened in the camp as if he had seen it with his own eyes.


    "After over a year of campaigning, the Samurai are eager to return home," Xiulote nodded in agreement. He often talked with ordinary Samurai and the lowest-ranking Militia, knowing that everyone had lost their passion for war. In this difficult rainy season, homesickness pervaded the army. Only thanks to the Commander¡¯s prestige and recent victories did the troops maintain their morale.


    "Based on the mobilization of the Tarasco and Tlaxcala people," Acap spoke seriously, "the High Priest concluded that our enemies have united together, preparing to rescue the ancestral lands of the Otomi people, to prevent them from being utterly conquered by the Alliance."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression became grave. During this year¡¯s spring plowing, he had experienced an attack. This assault had already revealed signs of a coalition between the Otomi, Tarasco, and Tlaxcala people.


    "Therefore, the High Priest believes that the next key point is Xilotepec City. He has already sent Scouts to keep an eye on this Otomi City at all times. Because our enemies would not forget how crucial this position is, especially since it still harbors eight thousand Samurai."


    Aweit praised softly with a clap of his hand, "The eagle¡¯s gaze is always the same distance away, while the ground mouse only fixates on the food before it. Xilotepec City is just pretending to submit. They are like a venomous snake pressed under a stone, and the moment the stone is lifted, they will certainly bite."


    "Does that mean Xilotepec City could rebel at any moment?" Xiulote asked curiously, "With an unstable rear, the King should withdraw the troops as soon as possible, shouldn¡¯t he?"


    "The ground mouse lured by the food in front will not be driven away, except for the instant the fox pounces," Aweit said with a smile, no longer disguising his disdain for the King.


    "Totec has already advised Tizoc several times, but the King insists on not withdrawing, intent on laying siege for another three months to capture Otapan City. He has just repeatedly urged the Capital, sending a new batch of troops to fill the camp below Xilotepec City. The King¡¯s prestige has been almost spent, and taking Otapan City has become his psychological bottom line."


    Aweit turned his head and looked at the youth seriously, "Xiulote, do you remember what I¡¯ve told you? If you can¡¯t maintain your bottom lines, they become weaknesses, and a great ruler cannot have weaknesses!"


    "Because weaknesses bring death!" the youth blurted out. Death? The death of Tizoc? His understanding was complete, yet he felt a shiver of dread.


    Acap nodded, "Thank you, Your Highness, for your teachings to Xiulote. He has indeed grown a lot."


    "Xiulote is an outstanding youth and a good successor." Aweit smiled, looking at the youth with a rare tenderness in his eyes, "He is my student and my friend. I see many traces of my own past in him and also the shadow of my grandfather Montezuma I. He has the potential to be an excellent ruler."


    Acap smiled and then suddenly performed a deep bow towards Aweit, "Your Highness. The High Priest is willing to form an alliance with you and offers the loyalty of the Teotihuacan lineage to help you realize your grand vision. But we also hope that you can return a favor, one substantial enough to give us peace of mind."


    "A favor?" Aweit pondered for a moment, "Xiuxoke, the Legion Commander, has enough merits to become a Third Level Noble and to take charge of Teotihuacan City. Xiulote can become the successor to Chief Priest Quetzal of the Great Temple in the Capital, so that when he grows up, he can hold the positions of both Chief Priest and High Priest, unifying the two major priesthoods of the Alliance."


    "Moreover, I can earmark five hundred hectares from the twenty-five hundred hectares of chinampa directly owned by the Royal Family to the Teotihuacan lineage. That should be enough to support the nurturing of two new Noble families in the Capital!"


    The youth was somewhat surprised. One hectare of chinampa could support twenty people, meaning five hundred hectares could provide for ten thousand people. Tenochtitlan had only nine thousand hectares of chinampa in total. In the vast Celestial Empire, this was the treatment of nobility, let alone in the Aztec Alliance with its current population of three million.


    "Thank you for your generous offer, Your Highness, but the gift of five hundred hectares of chinampa is too lavish, we dare not accept it," Acap solemnly shook his head. Taking one-fifth of the Royal Family¡¯s land would make them a mark for everyone; it was a road leading to certain ruin in the future.


    Then, with a sly smile, he added, "You¡¯ve said that Xiulote is your student and your friend. Have you considered taking it a step further?"


    "What do you mean? A Priest cannot..." Aweit¡¯s face showed surprise; as clever as he, he instantly understood the implication.


    "If the plan of the High Priest and Your Highness comes to pass, then there won¡¯t be an issue of what can or cannot be done." Acap smiled gently, revealing a hint of sharpness.


    "The High Priest has heard that the eldest daughter of your chief wife is eleven years old, gentle and wise, lovely and beautiful, the purest white lotus of the lake city. He has specifically sent me to inquire: Would the Hummingbird of Teotihuacan have the fortune to settle upon the lotus of Tenochtitlan, awaiting the blessed blossoming?" After finishing his solemn message, Acap performed another deep bow, awaiting the Commander¡¯s response.


    "This..." Aweit, unusually flustered, paced back and forth in the tent, glancing at Xiulote with a complex expression several times, before letting out a soft sigh, reaching out to touch Xiulote¡¯s face.


    The youth was somewhat baffled, not yet grasping what was happening.


    "My dear Alisa is still young and has not been promised to anyone. And Xiulote is indeed a good child," sighed Aweit again. Unable to hold back any longer, he tightened his grasp and pinched the student¡¯s cheek hard.


    Pain, pain, so much pain, the youth cried out softly.


    "Once we return to the Capital, let¡¯s betroth Alisa to Xiulote!" the Commander retracted his hand, feeling somewhat relieved at heart, and then announced his decision with a serious expression.


    "The Teotihuacan lineage will be your most loyal ally, unwavering in the face of the Sun God¡¯s witness! And your enemies will be our enemies, no matter who they are!" Acap lifted his head, placed his fist over his chest, and vowed with the same seriousness.


    "Nani?!" Xiulote was utterly dumbfounded and speechless. He rubbed his reddened cheek; it hurt, this wasn¡¯t a dream. What had he just heard? Were they really betrothed now? The youth looked up at Acap, who smiled back reassuringly. Then he looked at Aweit, who gave him a fierce glare,


    "I¡¯m only thirteen years old!" In the end, the youth let out an incredulous shout in his heart.

 Chapter 64 - 51 Development

    Xiulote lay on the soft grass bed, tossing and turning restlessly throughout the night.


    Listening to the rain outside his window, the endless tapping of the raindrops seemed to knock directly on his heart. His thoughts, like a long wind, flitted away in the blink of an eye, soared to the distant Lake Capital City, and settled on an unfamiliar svelte figure, struggling to discern the smile of the shadow.


    Night always quickens one¡¯s thoughts. Xiulote clearly understood that this political marriage, as the most crucial guarantee for an alliance between two powers, could not possibly be canceled or altered.


    As for Xiulote himself, he felt a bit of awkwardness, yet he was also filled with many longings¡ªimagining, anticipating, the complexity indescribable. In matters of the heart, he was always a youth, whether in his past life or this one.


    Early the next morning, as dawn just began to break, Xiulote suddenly rose. He casually draped on a robe and went to find Acap, his old friend who lived nearby.


    Acap was also up early. Dressed in neat High Priest robes, his hair combed and wearing a formal feather crown, he sat upright in the tent, reading a wooden tablet in his hands. Upon closer inspection, it was the initial version of the script that he and Aweit had revised.


    "Acap, what do you think of this script?" the youth pondered, deciding to talk around the subject at first.


    "It¡¯s quite good! This script you¡¯ve invented is precise in meaning, standardized in writing, neat, and aesthetically pleasing. It facilitates communication between all levels and makes it easier to teach knowledge, contributing to the inheritance of culture," Acap said, nodding and smiling in approval.


    "Do you think Grandfather would be willing to use these scripts? Can they be promoted on a large scale?" the youth asked with some concern.


    "The High Priest probably won¡¯t object, especially since you invented it," Acap considered for a moment before smiling slightly. "He has always been keen on reforming religion, and over the years, he has guided the priests of the city-states in excavating and organizing the stories and records of the Feathered Serpent Divine."


    "However, other priests probably won¡¯t be pleased to see the standardization of script. The greatest resistance will definitely come from the Chief Priesthood in the Capital."


    "Chief Priest Quetzal has always been conservative and stubborn. They have historically held the authority to interpret mythological records, often using omens and legends to intervene in the internal affairs of the Alliance. The Chief Priesthood themselves possess many fertile lands and numerous warrior followers. This kind of change in script will touch on their fundamental interests, and there will certainly be a severe backlash."


    Acap analyzed seriously, and he looked at the youth with some worry.


    Xiulote nodded, understanding that the Priesthood had deep roots within the Alliance, holding the hearts of the warriors and the common people. Trying to forcefully overthrow the Priest class would mean opposing the majority in the Alliance, which would lead to self-destruction.


    Regarding the Priest class, only a religious reform was possible. Standardizing and popularizing the script was essentially part of the reform. Next, he needed to align himself with the reformist faction within the Priesthood, continuously strike against and eliminate the traditional conservatives, while also increasing the literacy rate among the warriors and commoners.


    Then came the reduction of Priest privileges, the modification of human sacrifice rituals, the improvement of theological theories, the reorganization of the ecclesiastical system, and deciding whether there should be unity or separation between church and state, and so on. These reforms could only advance step by step, requiring time for the people¡¯s views to settle and waiting for further developments in the situation, creating the groundwork for the next reform.


    The religious reform he hoped for was destined to be a long and difficult process, unless some uncontrollable force suddenly swept away all obstacles.


    After some idle chat, the youth looked around again. Hmm, no one was around, and Bertade was not there.


    Only then did he sit down next to Acap, grabbed his old friend¡¯s arm, and asked in a low voice, "Acap, about... Alisa, the princess... um, the one you proposed on my behalf yesterday, well, is she pretty? What¡¯s her personality like?"


    Acap was taken aback for a moment, then couldn¡¯t help but twitch the corner of his mouth.


    He fought to hold back a laugh and teased in return, "The princess is only eleven years old and is still in the stage of home education. It¡¯s not yet time for her to go to school at Calmecac. How could I have possibly seen her? You should ask His Royal Highness, the King¡¯s brother."


    The youth thought about it; indeed, maybe he should ask Aweit? Then he touched his still aching cheek and remembered Aweit¡¯s fierce glare, suddenly shivering. "Maybe not."


    "Actually, you shouldn¡¯t worry about the princess¡¯s appearance," Acap laughed heartily. "How do you think His Royal Highness, the King¡¯s brother looks?"


    "Quite good," Xiulote pondered on Aweit¡¯s handsome face and his distinct facial features, and replied factually.


    "Given that, the wife of the King¡¯s brother is also a renowned beauty of the Capital City, there¡¯s no way their daughter would be anything less than desirable. As for her personality, the Royal Family has always been strict in their household education. Moreover, the princess is still young and nothing is set in stone. If you¡¯re truly concerned, why not take the initiative to connect more?"


    "You need to cultivate a relationship between you, experiencing beautiful things together. At the same time, gently guide the girl¡¯s naive thoughts. By the time the princess grows up, you will be as intertwined as beans winding around corn, growing closely together. You two are certain to be a perfect match!" Acap said, smiling gently.


    In the eyes of the youth, the face of the old friend, gentle and refined as jade, suddenly sparkled with a light of "wisdom".


    "Acap, you¡¯re really too smart!" The young man suddenly stood up, hugged Acap with joy, and babbled excitedly, "Let me take a moment to reflect and seriously draft a plan!"


    Acap just smiled lightly, and patted the forehead of the young man, ah, that¡¯s good.


    The easy times passed quickly. That evening, Acap changed into casual clothes, bade farewell to the Commander and the young man, and, accompanied by a few intelligence officers, braved the rain to head towards the siege camp at Otapan.


    Then, Acap needed to make contact with Xiuxoke, the group leader there, to inform the High Priest and the King¡¯s brother of the decision to form an alliance, integrating the Teotihuacan City-State army into the Alliance.


    Aweit also dispatched envoys separately. He kept in contact with the military officers at all levels of the siege camp, keeping the upcoming plans strictly confidential, only cautiously testing the officers¡¯ attitudes. This was to identify those who remained loyal to him, judge the wavering neutral party, and clarify the King¡¯s staunch supporters. His identity as the Chief Intelligence Officer gave him great freedom and cover for his actions.


    On the other hand, envoys going to and from catered to the supporters in the three cities of the Capital. He showed goodwill towards the Great Nobility and the Priesthood, ensuring they would at least remain neutral in subsequent actions. To the lesser nobility and the rank-and-file Samurai, he made ample promises, and from the army units he had once led, he formed a steadfast group of supporters.


    Last, the Commander began to reform more than ten thousand Samurai under his command: first by marginalizing those loyal to the King. Then, based on recent military achievements, he promoted officers loyal to himself. Next, in the name of victory in battle, he lavished rewards on the common Samurai and Militia, thus consolidating their loyalty.


    Xiulote spent his days with his followers, practicing Martial Arts and literacy. Lately, he had been somewhat ill at ease in Aweit¡¯s presence and decided to hide away for a few days to recuperate.


    He now had five hundred followers and had formed a Personal Guard Warrior group, with Bertade serving as the Head Warrior of the guard. Relying on the core support sent by his father, his personal guard was already developing into a formidable force. The youth valued the literacy education of his followers greatly; he was preparing to train the Personal Guard into a future officer corps while also experimenting with new tactics and combat methods.


    The Longbow Guards within the military were also under his command. There were now one hundred and fifty longbows, and a full two hundred men in the guard, all more experienced Samurai. They had been exposed to javelins and possessed a foundational sense of distance for long-range shooting, as well as skills in aiming and firing. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote had secretly established a training base in the nearby forest, where come rain or shine, the Longbow Guards trained day after day. By now, their training regimen had shifted from general flat shooting and lobbing to focused fire on fixed targets within two hundred meters.


    Time slipped by in the wind and rain, waves surged under the rivers. An invisible net was slowly and steadily unfurling.


    Two weeks hurried past, and both banks of the Long River remained calm. Until one drizzly afternoon, a canoe suddenly arrived.


    The mud-soaked Scout leapt and sprinted, tumbling into the great tent. He had just rushed from Xilotepec City, traveling day and night for six straight days, without rest for man or oar, almost completely worn out.


    "Xilotepec City has rebelled seven days ago! The Otomi people simultaneously ambushed the supply camp on the banks of the Tampen River, as well as the food storage sites in the mountains. The exact casualty reports are still unknown, but the supply line to the siege camp at Otapan has been temporarily cut off!"


    The Supreme Commander and the young man looked at each other. Both faces remained calm as they nodded lightly, "It¡¯s finally here!"


    The next morning, the Tarasco camp across the river was also stirring. Just after midday, Tarasco¡¯s naval forces repeatedly mobilized upstream and downstream on the Long River, transporting numerous Militia squads across, making gestures of launching a major attack.


    "The beginning of the rainy season has passed, and everything among humankind is unfolding¡ªtruly perfect Unity of Heaven and Man." The youth stood atop a hill, looked up slightly at the rainy sky, and beheld the vast expanse of earth and rivers.


    In his heart was a peace, and even a trace of serenity. With matters coming to a head, it was time to be bold! He watched the world with amusement, stepped forward with conviction, as if the world itself was moving towards him.

 Chapter 65 - 52 Eastward

    The curtain of rain connecting the heavens and the earth enveloped the world, and August marked the fiercest time of the rainy season.


    Another week of wind and rain passed in the blink of an eye. During this week, Aweit remained calm amidst the storm, sitting steady like a fisherman waiting for a catch. He was just quietly waiting for the two most important pieces of news from both the North and the East.


    The Tarasco people from the southern shore organized several naval attacks, but they were all sound and fury, signifying nothing. They brought merely three to four thousand militiamen to harass us, scattered over several days¡¯ distance along the river, exerting psychological pressure on the Mexica.


    Xiulote was somewhat worried, "Xilotepec City has already rebelled, if the Tarasco people cross the river in large numbers, where should we retreat to?"


    Aweit smiled faintly, "Child, don¡¯t worry. Conducting a campaign is not just about comparing strengths, but also the combat will of both sides."


    "The Otomi people are defending their homeland; they will surely not hesitate to make sacrifices, doing everything to block the Mexica¡¯s troops. On the other hand, the Tarasco and Tlaxcala people are merely coordinating strategically, drawing our forces away to relieve the siege of Otapan City and prevent the extinction of the Otomi."


    "Under such circumstances, the Tarasco will not possess a high combat will. They will fight only when the wind is at their back, taking advantage when they can. They would not cross the river on a large scale to have a desperate struggle with us holding the high ground. That would be like pulling chestnuts out of the fire for the Otomi, and the casualties would be too heavy."


    "But if the King retreats, our opportunity to encircle and annihilate the Otomi might entice them to let the King pass and instead strike at our rear from the south. At that moment, our geographical advantage would be diminished by being attacked from both sides. With the Otomi as the vanguard, the Tarasco would seize this opportunity to cross the river in force. They would coordinate with the Otomi from the north and the south, aiming to completely annihilate us."


    "If I guess correctly, the King¡¯s Messenger should arrive soon." Aweit paused, his expression showing an unpredictable smile.


    "Aweit, what you said makes so much sense!" The youth agreed heartily.


    "Child, you¡¯re not allowed to call me by my name, call me Teacher!" Aweit¡¯s face turned stern as he reached out to pinch the youth¡¯s cheek.


    The daily training proved fruitful as the youth agilely dodged with a leap. It seemed that his teacher and friend¡¯s mood had yet to stabilize, so it would be best to hide in the trusted aides¡¯ camp for another two days.


    In less than two days, the King¡¯s Messenger arrived as expected.


    "...Your previous success in blocking the enemy was commendable, but you must continue to hold your position. Tratuoani generously bestows upon you lands and wealth... Without the King¡¯s orders, you may not retreat a single step. You must hold the North Coast of the Lerma River at all costs until Otapan City falls... Once you return to the Capital, you will be the prime contributor to this campaign! Promoted to Vice-King, rewarded with Chinampa..."


    The Messenger began with a majestic proclamation in the great tent. Afterwards, he smiled as he congratulated the King¡¯s brother, expressing hope that the future Vice-King would fulfill the King¡¯s heavy responsibilities and expectations, continue to hold firm, and win the prime contribution to the campaign.


    Aweit bowed his head for the last time to the King¡¯s decree. His expression resolute, he respectfully took the Token and the wooden tablet. His face showed a determination to fight to the death and an eager anticipation for the future, which remained until the Messenger departed.


    Then, he turned to Xiulote with a smile, "The King is preparing to evacuate."


    The Commander immediately secured the King¡¯s decree, instructing the officers loyal to him to disseminate the new military orders. The Samurai immediately prepared supplies, readying for evacuation.


    The following morning, another huge fleet arrived from the Capital. Aweit had leveraged the influence of his matrilineal family, summoning as many boats as possible from Lake Texcoco. This time, one hundred large boats and four hundred small boats were gathered, carrying only essential food and the minimum number of Paddlers.


    He now had in his possession three hundred large boats and a thousand small boats, with a maximum carrying capacity of seventeen thousand people.


    The Tarasco¡¯s fleet was intimidated by the absolute superiority of the Mexica¡¯s naval force. They all reined in their activities, hiding deep in Cuitzeo Lake connected to the Lerma River, seeking shelter next to the fortresses deep in Tarasco territory. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At this point, everything was in place, only the East Wind was missing, and the youth was eagerly looking toward the North.


    The following evening, the "East Wind" finally arrived from the North. Acap, travel-worn and noticeably thinner, no longer carried his usual airy grace. However, when Xiulote looked into his eyes, he saw a spirited and lustrous gleam that dazzled.


    The three seated themselves cross-legged. The same tightly shut tent as before, the same flickering campfire, the same unending wind and rain, but an altogether different surge of excitement.


    "We can¡¯t wait any longer, now is the moment!" exclaimed Acap, his voice quivering with excitement.


    "News of the rebellion in Xilotepec City arrived, followed by the severance of the supply routes. The City-State legions were in uproar, thirty thousand Samurai completely demoralized. Within a week, the Legion Commanders gathered several times, advising a retreat. The last time, even the direct officers were persuaded.


    With only three and a half weeks¡¯ worth of rations left in the camp, and at least two weeks needed to return to Xilotepec City. Furthermore, there was no telling when the supply lines at the rear would be restored, and Otomi guerrilla squads could be seen everywhere in the mountains and forests.


    The King could no longer contain the situation and was forced to nod his agreement. After dispatching a wave of Messengers to your positions, insisting on holding out, he began to dismantle the camp, regrouping the scattered legions, in preparation to return to the main encampment at Xilotepec.


    I had a final secret talk with Legion Commander Xiuxoke. The Commander has already rallied his four thousand Samurai and will always follow the King, closely behind Tizoc, waiting for our arrival!"


    Aweit also nodded vigorously, trying to suppress his excitement: "The army has finished packing and can embark eastward at any time. My loyal two thousand family Samurai have joined the new relief forces assembled at the Capital, and are about to support the main encampment at Xilotepec City."


    "We will sail east, subdue this relief force, and then take down the main encampment of Xilotepec City, blocking the King¡¯s return. If all goes well, we will capture the nearest mountain campsite, where I will bid farewell to my brother!"


    Having said this, the two men hugged each other with steadfast determination, their eyes ablaze with fiery zeal.


    The youth, caught in the middle, felt like the ham in a sandwich. He couldn¡¯t help but cry out for help loud, "Tizoc is nothing more than an aging field mouse; don¡¯t get too carried away. Young Divine Eagles, your gaze should be upon the entire world!"


    After hearing these words, Aweit and Acap paused for a moment before bursting into hearty laughter, hugging the youth even more tightly.


    With the world in their grasp, their hearts like fire. A sleepless night, their martial spirit vast and mighty!


    The next morning, Aweit broke camp and boarded the ship.


    After the battle at the river crossing, he commanded fourteen thousand Samurai and thirteen thousand Militia, while the maximum capacity of the fleet was seventeen thousand. The Commander left ten thousand Militia to defend the five encampments, instructing them to hold out for just two days, after which they could retreat on their own or surrender. He ordered a retreat along the river to the East if possible, so that when the fleet returned, they could be picked up with the utmost speed.


    Next, fourteen thousand Samurai and three thousand Militia boarded the ships. The army, taking only two weeks¡¯ rations, rushed upriver to the East. Samurai and Militia took turns as Paddlers, keeping the boats moving without rest. With this pace, it was estimated that they would reach the vicinity of Xilotepec main encampment in just about ten days.


    Standing on the large ship amidst wind and rain, Xiulote took a moment to look at the North Coast encampment.


    Under Aweit¡¯s orders, the Militia planted numerous flags, and the Commander¡¯s grand standard stood solemnly at the highest point of the fort, temporarily deceiving the enemy on the South Coast. The encampment still had more than a month¡¯s supply of provisions.


    The Militia stood silently atop the encampment, their morale low as they watched the fleet head east. Nearly a hundred loyal Samurai also remained to maintain the bare minimum of order. Their fate was to be sacrificed and wait.


    As the great boat moved, the shores flowed past, the river roared. Xiulote¡¯s heart was filled with cold firmness¡ªsuch was the cruel reality. He took one last look at the South Coast, where the flag of the Tarasco King still flew high, and the Priest¡¯s altars were faintly visible, with Samurai and Militia scattered around.


    When shall we meet again? A hint of a warm smile crept onto the youth¡¯s face, a mix of anticipation and confidence for the future, as if the searing flames were driving away the cold.


    "The next time we meet, it shall be total conquest!"

 Chapter 66 - 53: Marching

    Dark clouds cloaked the sky and earth, casting a vague gloom over the fields. The fleet, mighty and vast, moved eastward, rowing against the current.


    Xiulote sat cross-legged at the bow, clutching a long Obsidian dagger in his arms, which relaxed him. He watched the mighty river, observed the undulating mountains, gazed at the lush forests, and beheld birds flying low. Raindrops fell, pitter-pattering, dampening his long hair. The mist blurred his vision, making the world seem distant.


    He had once been a passerby across millennia, silently wandering alone in the primitive past. Like a lost goose, circling in a strange sky, merely watching the years pass by, overlooking the majestic landscapes, feeling a distant detachment in his heart. Such was the loneliness of a transmigrator.


    Sometime, perhaps when the goose grew tired, it finally alighted gently at the bow. The young man was no longer free and unattached; his heart now harbored emotions, concerns. He gained ancestors, teachers, friends, followers, and even a future wife. Only with a real home did he find his true existence.


    The homeland was gone; where the goose landed, there was his home. The young man had people to love, a world to protect. With a world to protect came enemies to vanquish, whether they were brave samurais, distinguished kings, or fair-skinned colonizers.


    A year of life and death transformations, a year of battles and strife. The once gentle and kind young traveler had morphed into a resolute and determined young samurai. The samurai¡¯s strength stemmed from his disdain for death and his love for life, for the people he cared about.


    On this drifting journey at the bow, Xiulote clung tightly to the long dagger in his arms. He was utterly certain, "I have assimilated into this world."


    He continued to survey the vast fleet surrounding him, thousands of boats racing toward the end of the highlands, like a hunting pack of wolves. The samurais silently harbored killing intent; archers cleaned their life-taking weapons. Aweit and Acap spoke in low voices, waiting for the hunt to begin!


    The hunt targeted a king who could threaten everyone¡¯s lives, and who could also protect his own power. How should power be used? Xiulote already had a clear answer.


    Six days had passed since the fleet sailed east. These six days involved marching daily from dawn till dusk, with militia and samurais taking turns rowing. The army finally entered the western border of the Mexica Alliance, Tepanecapan.


    Here, the highlands stretched upwards, and just ahead were continuous mountain ranges. This was the most challenging part of rowing upstream; beyond the river¡¯s high point lay the fertile, thriving Mexican Valley.


    The army disembarked here, turning northeast towards the Xilotepec encampment. The fleet then headed back west to pick up ten thousand militia left in Otomi territory.


    Aweit dispatched swift scouts who dashed towards distant villages, searching for messengers already waiting with intelligence. Fourteen thousand samurais formed into marching columns, traveling light with just five days¡¯ supply of food, swiftly marching northeast. Three thousand militia, bearing more provisions, followed behind.


    Xiulote also marched briskly. Thanks to prolonged training and ample nutrition, his endurance was comparable to that of an ordinary adult samurai. During the march, he still had the energy to look at the surrounding farmlands. On the boat trip, the north was Otomi¡¯s barren wilderness, while the south held sparse Tarasco fields. But upon entering the territory of the Mexica City-States, the view was filled with extensive connected fields of maize.


    By the end of August, the maize had already grown tall, over a man¡¯s height. They absorbed ample rainfall, and their broad leaves bore slender ears of corn ¡ª it was the harvest season. Xiulote paused to examine the fields; the soil fertility was limited, the density of maize plants was not high. The corn was smaller than in later times, and the kernels less plump, yet the harvest was still abundant, yielding more than the commonly cultivated wheat in Eurasia.


    Beans had also grown well, with pods peering out from the yellowing leaves, curiously eyeing the bountiful fields, also ripe for the picking. Below them, remnants of pumpkin leaves lingered. The pumpkins had been harvested not long before, and they were much smaller than those in later times. Yet these small pumpkins sustained the farmers through the toughest season before the harvest.


    Seeing the pausing young man, Aweit caught up from behind. He wiped the rain from his face, shook the mud from his sandals, and asked with a smile, "Xiulote, what are you looking at?"


    The young man smiled lightly, pointing to the harvested fields, "The autumn harvest is upon us; I am observing this year¡¯s yield. What a bountiful year! This is the foundation of the Mexica Alliance, the great endeavor that dominates the world."


    In the classic Empire era, agriculture was everything, and this was especially true in Central America where no food could be imported.


    Hearing this, Aweit also broke open a bean pod and tasted a black bean.


    "Indeed, the black beans are plump, and the corn cobs full, it truly is a bountiful year. Despite over a year of warfare, the City-States have not excessively conscripted the militia, hindering the crucial spring plowing. Once this year¡¯s autumn harvest is complete and the warfare halts, the food consumed during the war will be replenished. After yet another annual harvest, we can once again deploy troops massively."


    Xiulote nodded. This war had already depleted too much of the Mexica¡¯s food supply. Even with the bounty of the Texcoco Lake District and the pillaging from Xilotepec City, the City-State¡¯s reserves had been consumed by as much as five years. The food transport away from the river channels was like a bottomless pit of loss.


    "Next time we march, we must choose a route supported by rivers. I have a perfect target in mind, its land has both north and south waterways." The young man looked earnestly at his friend.


    Aweit nodded in agreement, "Just like I was thinking. They have no allies to call upon, making them the ideal adversary. It¡¯s also time for me to settle things with an old friend."


    Having said that, both men exchanged smiles, rediscovering their initial unspoken understanding.


    The eagles with spread wings pounced on the voles in the forest, while their gaze was already set on the future.


    After hastily traveling for half a day, the scouts finally connected with the intelligence personnel. The latest news, eight thousand Samurai and sixteen thousand militia from the three capitals were sent to aid the main camp at Xilotepec. They were now only a day¡¯s march from the main army and two days from Xilotepec City.


    This was nearly the largest mobilization of the Four States. In the vast Capital Region, there now remained only two thousand Samurai guarding the Lake Capital City and another thousand distributed between Texcoco and Tlacopan.


    With nightfall approaching, the army made camp to rest. The Samurai restored their strength, preparing for tomorrow¡¯s rush. Xiulote and Aweit huddled together, carefully calculating the nearby significant military forces.


    The Royal Family¡¯s fifty thousand direct samurai were now scattered all over.


    Twelve thousand were in the northeast at Atotoztli, guarding against the Tlaxcala people, unable to return anytime soon. There were also three City-State legions there, totaling twenty-four thousand, half of which were City-State Warriors. Although this force was considerable, its distant location meant it couldn¡¯t significantly impact the overall situation.


    Four thousand directly loyal were below Xilotepec City. After the Otomi attack, their casualties were unknown. There was also a City-State legion stationed there. The riverside camp and food were crucial here.


    Ten thousand were directly under Aweit¡¯s control, now completely dominated by him. Accompanying were four thousand City-State Warriors and three thousand militia, with the army having only five days¡¯ worth of food.


    Another ten thousand were in Tizoc¡¯s hands, having evacuated from Otapan City. Accompanying were twenty thousand City-State Warriors and five thousand militia. They were currently suffering the tribulations of disrupted supply lines, rainy season marches through forests and highlands, and Otomi guerrilla attacks, struggling on the mountainous forest roads back, with their exact situation unknown.


    Xiuxoke, leading four thousand Teotihuacan Warriors, would closely follow the King, with other City-State armies likely to retreat on their own.


    Between Otapan and Xilotepec, in the forests spanning more than two weeks, there were four encampments harboring over thirty thousand militia transporting food. The camps there would possess some food, and the food-stricken King would surely lead his troops there for provisions.


    Three thousand directly loyal Samurai had already perished in the campaign against the Otomi, and another three thousand were left in the three capital cities. Although the capitals could mobilize tens of thousands of militia at any time, the distance was too great to have a substantial impact on the greater strategy. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The final eight thousand loyal Samurai were en route to support the main camp at Xilotepec, accompanied by sixteen thousand militia. This included two thousand of Aweit¡¯s clan warriors. This troop was key to the changing situation, close at hand, ready for the taking.


    After final discussions, everyone understood clearly. The commander slammed his fist onto the roughly drawn wooden map, pointing northeast.


    "We set off first thing tomorrow morning, increasing our marching speed. We must capture this troop by dusk!"

 Chapter 67 - 54 Seizing Command

    The army made a simple camp in a rain-sheltered hollow of the mountain and rested for the night. Dawn was just breaking when Xiulote woke in his leaky tent. He felt his single-layer garment, already soaked through by the fine rain and dew. Fortunately, the Mexican Plateau during the rainy season was quite warm, with temperatures comfortably above twenty degrees, so there was no need to worry about the cold.


    Marching and fighting were always arduous. Without a robust physique, it was impossible to withstand the harsh natural environment and endure the relentless pain and slaughter required to become a fearsome Samurai, let alone rise to the rank of a Commander bearing the flag of a commander.


    The young Samurai roughly wiped over his distinctly sculpted body, changed into sturdy leather armor, and then donned a gray-black ceremonial war robe. The feather crown was too cumbersome, so he wore the sharp leather cap commonly seen among warriors. Finally, he strapped his war club and shield on his back and tucked the long dagger at his waist, ready to maintain a combat stance at any time.


    Next, the young Samurai went to gather his followers and the Longbow Guards, with Head Warrior Bertade guarding by his side.


    Today, Aweit was dressed splendidly. He wore a mighty beast helmet, a necklace adorned with gemstones, and a set of striking red exquisite leather armor, with a gold sun embedded on the chest.


    In his left hand was a long shield also depicting the sun, vibrant feathers hanging down from the bottom of the shield. In his right hand was a Divine Staff about two meters long, its top made of a pure gold oval base, about the size of a palm. Set in the middle of the gold base was a chicken-egg-sized Starlight Ruby, sharply cut with six star lines, rendering a perfect "*" star shape.


    Xiulote held his breath for a moment. He asked Aweit for the Divine Staff and gently touched the smooth surface of the cut Starlight Ruby. This ruby must have exceeded one hundred carats, its perfect cuts and star marks almost on par with the famous future-era Starlight Ruby from Roslifields. This was a gemstone that would captivate the whole world.


    "This is..." the young man looked at his mentor in astonishment.


    "Montezuma I¡¯s Divine Staff, embedded with the largest ruby under the heavens. This staff was passed on to his daughter, my mother Atotoztli II. Before she left for the Divine Kingdom, she left it to her youngest son, me."


    Aweit looked at the staff nostalgically, his voice laden with reminiscence, "It represents royal authority!" Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote quickly snapped out of his awe of the divine object. He looked up and continued to survey Aweit¡¯s commander¡¯s flag.


    This new flag stood four meters tall, with a exceptionally large yellow dome-shaped canopy. The canopy was covered with intricate red patterns and exquisite feathers, topped with a massive jaguar skull, and in front was a dazzling sun crafted from black obsidian and yellow gemstone. Behind the commander¡¯s flag, a line of trusted aides held aloft grand banners.


    "This is the banner of the Supreme Commander, exclusively for the King!" the young man exclaimed, recognizing the design and size of the banner. He looked into his teacher¡¯s eyes, harboring some speculations.


    "Correct," Aweit smiled lightly, "It¡¯s the royal banner from the capital, it arrived last night. It¡¯s the second most distinguished Blood Sun among the commander¡¯s regalia, only second to the Evil Spirit Commander carried away by the king."


    "Now, let us take it on the road."


    The army then set off, swiftly marching northeast under the guidance of scouts. Xiulote asked Aweit for Montezuma I¡¯s Divine Staff, offering to carry it for him so the teacher wouldn¡¯t be "overburdened". Aweit didn¡¯t mind at all, although the staff was indeed dazzling, he had appreciated it countless times. Now he just watched with a smile as Xiulote¡¯s face was illuminated by the ruby¡¯s glow.


    The young man curiously twirled the translucent gemstone repeatedly. This was a museum-piece quality gemstone, only viewable in future-era national museums, separated by thick bulletproof glass.


    Under various lights, the ruby reflected different "starlights". The surrounding warriors all exhibited adoring looks towards the divine object, considering this starlight as the Divine¡¯s radiance, blessed and awe-inspiring with the protection of Heavenly Divine.


    After noon, the drizzle gradually ceased and the clouds thinned, letting through slivers of sunlight. The Commander reestablished contact with the family Samurai within the reinforcements. The troops were only three to four hours away from the reinforcements.


    The leader of these reinforcements was Ctokoc, a hereditary noble loyal to the King and the nephew of the Supreme Priest Quetzal in the Capital. He held a considerable reputation in the army. Tizoc loved theology and was always close to the Priesthood. Soon after ascending the throne, the King had promised more privileges to the Chief Priest, who, in return, had sent many noble youths to the army.


    Acap suggested a brief preparation, "We could rest for a while and wait for nightfall. Then, coordinating from within and without, we could raid the command tent of the reinforcements by night, capture Ctokoc, and finally subdue the remaining forces."


    Xiulote thought for a while and said that the plan was impractical, "The elite Samurai capable of night raiding are always few; we might not capture Ctokoc promptly. Moreover, a night raid could easily lead to chaos and fratricide within the army. Both sides are loyal Mexica warriors of the Alliance, and such valuable military strength should not be wasted here."


    Aweit pondered for a moment, then nodded. He patted Xiulote on the shoulder and then, smiling at Acap, said, "Fighting by day is more apt. Let¡¯s rest for an hour to restore the warriors¡¯ strength. Then, we¡¯ll directly attack the marching reinforcement column. I will inform the family Samurai to prepare. This battle will be about momentum, with not much fighting involved."


    After he finished speaking, he immediately dispatched an Envoy to the northeast.


    The Mexica warriors sat down on the spot, simply consuming some food and water, silently conserving their strength. The Commander had already communicated the upcoming battle objectives. Though accustomed to countless life-and-death circumstances and indifferent to life itself, the warriors¡¯ morale was somewhat low. They were reluctant to strike against their own comrades in the same camp but maintained obedience under the Commander¡¯s authority.


    The rain had stopped, and sunlight drenched the land. Xiulote asked the Longbow Warriors to prepare their armor-piercing copper arrows in case the Longbow Guards needed to deliver a fatal strike.


    The fourteen thousand warriors soon embarked, like a surging beast herd, swiftly attacking their first opponent. As the sun dipped lightly towards the west, a vast army appeared before Xiulote¡¯s eyes. In the rear were disorganized Militia carrying baggage and provisions. Ahead of them were eight thousand warriors roughly divided into three groups: two thousand in the Vanguard scouted ahead, four thousand in the center protecting the Commander¡¯s Royal Banner, and two thousand in the rear overseeing the Militia.


    The reconnaissance Scouts of the reinforcements had already spotted the Mexica forces approaching from behind. At this time, the forward reinforcements had halted their advance. They slightly adjusted their formation but, did not adopt a combat stance. As both armies drew nearer, the "King¡¯s" Royal Banner became distinctly visible to every Mexica warrior.


    The opposing warriors were somewhat noisy. They had urgently gathered from the Capital and then headed north to support Xilotepec City, aiming to establish the supply lines and reconnect with the unknown situation of the large Royal Army, and now the King had appeared here?


    A new wave of Messengers came from under the command flag of the opposing center, respectfully bowing before the King¡¯s banner while bringing the inquiry of their Commander, "May I ask His Majesty the King, how fares the battle at Otapan, and how has Your Majesty come to be here?"


    Aweit, his face covered by the Beast Helmet, maintained a godlike posture in silence, uttering no word.


    Xiulote, dressed in a refined gray-black Tengu Ritual Attire, replied solemnly, "The Divinely blessed King, leading his trusted Samurai, headed south to the banks of the Lerma River. We boarded the Alliance¡¯s fleet and sailed upstream, returning to the Xilotepec camp ahead of others. We are now about to reorganize the large army and rescue the City-State forces stranded in the mountains. Let Commander Ctokoc come forth to meet the King."


    The Messenger lifted his head, his expression slightly startled. The King abandoning the City-State forces to retreat first was major news that could destabilize the Alliance. After another glance at the imposing Royal procession, the fierce Jaguar Warrior Brigade, and Xiulote in his Tengu Ritual Attire, he respectfully retreated.


    Soon, slight disturbances and noisy murmurs arose among the opposing warriors. Then, hundreds of Commander¡¯s guards split the crowd, escorting a command banner slowly toward the King¡¯s procession.


    Xiulote fixed his gaze, discerning a middle-aged Commander beneath that banner. He walked slowly, always keeping his eyes on the Royal Banner, accompanied also by five hundred elite guards, clearly harboring doubts.

 Chapter 68 - 55 Seizing the Army

    Sunlight dappled the vast expanse of the highland plains. Beneath the sky, two massive legions drew near to each other. The samurai bore the same flags, wore the same armor, spoke the same language, and had familiar faces among them. One side was noisily and excitedly welcoming their allies; the other waited in silence for their opponents.


    The King¡¯s ceremonial flag waved, signaling the opposing side to speed up. However, the middle-aged commander, Keteke, was in no hurry and even began to decelerate, his suspicion growing. Xiulote, somewhat puzzled, cast his gaze to the central army at the rear and noticed that two thousand samurai were already slowly shifting position, clearly indicating the true intended recipients of the flag signals.


    Just two or three hundred meters from the ceremonial flag, the middle-aged commander looked another moment at the flag beneath the King and seemed to finally realize something was amiss. He abruptly stopped, shouted a few urgent commands to his side, and then the flag-bearer beside him quickly waved the flag of request for assistance. The musicians blew a sharp, warning blast on the conch shells, and the guard gathered around the commander and began to retreat.


    Aweit did not wait any longer; he immediately gestured with his hand. Flags waved, war drums sounded, and a thousand Jaguars, along with three thousand samurai, fiercely pounced towards the nearby Keteke. The remaining ten thousand samurai split into two groups, dividing the opposing vanguard and rearguard from each other. And the two thousand Avite family samurai of the central army quickly split to either side; half strictly separating the remainder of the central army, and the other half flanking the middle-aged commander from behind.


    The buildup was like a placid lake, the onslaught, like startling thunder. In mere moments, Keteke was completely surrounded by five thousand warriors. Xiulote and Acap commanded the accompanying priests and warriors to shout loudly, "King Tizoc has been attacked and killed by the Otomi people! The noble prince has already succeeded the throne and become the new Tratuoani!"


    "The King is dead, the prince takes his place!" The frightening shouts echoed across the plains, as Aweit, holding high the Divine Staff symbolizing the royal authority and carrying the huge banner of the Supreme Commander, shone radiantly in the golden evening light. The dazzling brilliance attracted the eyes of the warriors, and the opposing tripartite samurai hesitated. They looked around at the expressions of their comrades-in-arms, quietly lowered the weapons in their hands, and halted their charging steps, unsure of what to do.


    Only the surrounded Keteke still shouted loudly, commanding hundreds of his guards to fight off the enemy while ordering the nearby central army to come to his aid. After a moment of hesitation, the warriors of the central army prepared for battle following the middle-aged commander¡¯s orders.


    Head Warrior Bertade exchanged a glance with Xiulote, requesting permission to fire. A hundred and fifty of the Longbow Guards had already moved to a position more than two hundred meters from Keteke. They had arrows nocked and were aiming at Keteke and his guard from afar.


    The young samurai hesitated slightly, knowing that once the longbows were fired, the opposing commander and a large number of guards would surely suffer heavy casualties. After just a few seconds, he made up his mind.


    The young samurai¡¯s brows furrowed, a murderous intent in his eyes, as he was about to signal the order.


    At that moment, a tall and powerfully built young Jaguar warrior suddenly emitted a fierce tiger-like roar, rushing forth from the ranks of the family warriors at the rear. He snatched a heavy shield from a comrade, lifted a pair of shields, and charged ferociously into the thin line of guards, leaping up in an agile pounce like a ravenous beast descending upon Keteke.


    The middle-aged commander was clearly no longer as nimble as he once was. He turned to flee, but his steps could not keep up with the turning motion, and he was brought down by the young Jaguar¡¯s pounce. The young warrior followed up with a Shield Strike, knocking Keteke unconscious. He then grabbed him by the neck, intimidating the surrounding guard who had come to assist. With their command structure lost, the guards were indecisive, allowing the warriors to expertly swing their war clubs, knocking them out with the wooden sides.


    Afterward, the young Jaguar warrior suddenly exerted force with his hands and broke Keteke¡¯s command flag, followed by a proud, tiger-like roar of triumph.


    Six thousand reinforcing warriors stood stunned as they watched the large flag slowly fall, witnessing the sudden "betrayal" of their two thousand comrades and the capture of Keteke and his guard beneath the flag. In their ears was the shout, "The King is dead, the prince takes his place!" In their sight, Aweit¡¯s ceremonial regalia and the gemstone-studded Divine Staff shone resplendently in the sunset. Finally, they took another look around at the warriors enveloping them, outnumbering them by more than double.


    At last, the reinforcing warriors laid down their weapons. They knelt to the ground, surrendering to their compatriots who held the upper hand, to the authority of the Divine Descendant¡¯s royal family. The crisis erupted suddenly, and without clear orders, the Militia at the rear were at a loss. They watched the royal family¡¯s strife in disarray until the victor had already emerged, and it was only then that the Militia leaders came forward one by one, offering their supplies and loyalty.


    Aweit quickly sent his confidants to take control of the surrendered support troops and detained all the battalion-level ¡¯Chiliarchs¡¯ and legion-level ¡¯Decarchs.¡¯ The captured Keteke and his guard were stripped of their armor and weapons and handed over to the most loyal family warriors for safekeeping.


    This brief assault lasted less than a quarter of an hour. Both sides¡¯ warriors exercised restraint, with only a little over sixty guard commanders falling in battle, and a hundred or so warriors were lightly injured.


    As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Aweit at last found a moment of respite. He summoned his trusted followers to gather and partake in a simple victory meal after the march, each enjoying two cups of low-proof tequila. Then, he extended his hand to summon the young Jaguar warrior to approach. The Samurai removed his beast helmet and, respectfully kneeling, saluted Aweit.


    Xiulote inspected the young warrior who had just distinguished himself in battle by slaying generals and seizing banners. He was but twenty-four or twenty-five years of age. With short hair and a broad forehead, he had thick brows and large eyes, and wore a Jaguar bone ring through his nose, a symbol of bravery. The bone ring rested on his full lips, carrying the untamed aura of the jungle. His tiger-like eyes flashed with a barely concealed fierce killing intent, like that of a roaming fearsome beast.


    Aweit introduced him to Xiulote and Acap with a smile, "This is the youngest Jaguar warrior of my family, twenty-four-year-old Sterling. He once captured eight seasoned Tlaxcala warriors by himself, thereby ascending to the nobility as a Fifth Level military achiever, a warrior more ferocious than the Jaguar itself!"


    "Sterling, you performed brilliantly in battle and played a pivotal role in capturing the banner! Once we complete the great task and return to the capital city, I will promote you to the Second Level hereditary nobility! Come, pay your respects and offer a toast to the distinguished people here."


    Sterling raised his head, his young face brimming with buoyant confidence. He cast a proud glance at the officers, then nodded his head on Aweit¡¯s instruction, slightly bowed, and did his best to restrain his fierce fighting spirit.


    He first respectfully toasted Xiulote, the Fifth Level Coyote Priest. Then he paused and directly bypassed Bertade, the Head Warrior dressed in simple clothing beside Xiulote. Again respectfully, he toasted Acap, who had ascended to Third Level Black and White Priest.


    Just as the Fifth Level Coyote Priest represented the God of Death Xiulotel, the Third Level Black and White Priest also represented the day and night gods, Ometeotl, most revered by the Otomi people. In the various tribal myths, the status of the gods differed greatly. The highest-ranking Chaos Priest among the Otomi people could only serve as an ordinary Third Level Black and White Priest among the Mexica people.


    Xiulote noticed a flash of anger in the eyes of the Head Warrior next to him, which was swiftly replaced by calmness. He sighed softly and patted Bertade on the shoulder. Upon their return, he was determined to promote the Head Warrior to the First Level military nobility.


    Bertade, born into the common class, although extremely brave and a skilled commander, had spent his years stagnating in the military. After being promoted to Fourth Level seasoned warrior at the age of thirty, he found it difficult to advance further, stuck right at the threshold of the elite Battle Group nobility.


    Similarly in his thirties and of noble birth, Olosh was a long-renowned Jaguar warrior, a First Level military noble, and the "Chiliarch" of Commander Xiuxoke¡¯s veteran barracks.


    And before them was Sterling, born into a royal family, who at only twenty-four was already a seasoned First Level military noble and soon to become a Second Level hereditary noble!


    In Xiulote¡¯s view, the martial prowess of the three was actually comparable, with Bertade being slightly superior in archery. In terms of command ability, the older and more experienced Bertade and Olosh had a clear advantage. But in this age, and even in the next, one¡¯s destiny was not completely in their own hands. Birth determined the speed of one¡¯s rise and the height of one¡¯s advancement.


    "In addition to educational reforms, I must consider military reforms. There has to be a clear path for commoner warriors to ascend to the military nobility. Position of battalion commanders in the forces should be filled by experienced senior commoner warriors," decided Xiulote resolutely.


    The group then raised their glasses in unison, reveling in the mild buzz from the low-proof tequila. This drink, found among the supplies of the reinforcement troops and with an alcohol content of merely four or five degrees, was like water to the robust warriors. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After finishing the two cups quickly and having a simple dinner, Aweit commanded the officers to return to their camps. The warriors needed to recover their battle readiness for the next fight.


    At the campfire, only three remained. With the flickering firelight, the trio exchanged looks and then burst into hearty laughter. Today marked the first and most crucial step in their successful hunt.


    Now, they had in their hands an army of twenty-two thousand warriors, nearly twenty thousand militia, and also the military orders to support the great camp at Xilotepec!

 Chapter 69 - 56 Inquiries

    Three people gathered around a fire pit, chatting lively late into the night about their next actions before dispersing contentedly deep into the night.


    After merely two cups of rice wine, Xiulote felt a bit tipsy. His young body was not yet fully grown, making him more susceptible to alcohol. Bertade reached out to steady him by the arm and helped him back to his tent. The young man smiled and did not refuse.


    "Wine doesn¡¯t intoxicate; people intoxicate themselves," Xiulote said with self-deprecating laughter, giving a warm embrace to bid farewell to the loyal Head Warrior before lying down on his simple sleeping mat in a slightly tipsy state.


    After a hectic day of battle and setting up a temporary camp, naturally, there were no soft grass beds to lie on. The samurai were not very fussy about their living conditions.


    The alcohol made him feel warm all over, so the young man took off his leather armor robe and slept just in his undershorts, bare-bodied. He was deeply asleep for about four or five hours, still before dawn, when he suddenly woke up with a start and sat up.


    Xiulote stared blankly, looking at the sky outside the tent, which was still deep night. He had just had a weird dream.


    In the dream, he saw a powerful man wearing a beast helmet, clad in red armor, and holding a Divine Staff. The man was sitting aloofly on a high Obsidian throne, surrounded by generals celebrating the new king.


    "Aweit!" he happily approached, giving the new king a hug. But the man pushed him away and then voluntarily removed his helmet. Taking a closer look, the young man was shocked and bewildered. Beneath the helmet was his own cold face.


    The version of himself that became king stood up, handed the Divine Staff to the stunned young man, then forcefully set him on the throne before disappearing. The generals continued their congratulations. The young man sat uneasily, finding the Divine Staff extraordinarily heavy and the throne both ice-cold and incredibly hard, which made him uncomfortable all over. Finally, he could not endure it any longer, threw the Divine Staff aside, and abruptly stood up from the throne!


    Then, the young man woke up. When he looked again, he was sitting on his sleeping mat. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He touched the sleeping mat, a thin layer that was indeed hard and uncomfortable. Then he looked at his left hand, which had somehow been trapped under his body and had turned red.


    Xiulote first let out a sigh of relief, his heart calming down. Then, reflecting carefully, he felt somewhat solemn, "Power is indeed a terrifying thing. Unknowingly, my heart has already filled with a desire for the Divine Staff and the throne."


    "If one day in the future, I really obtain the ultimate power, what will I become?" Thinking of the cold and aloof face he wore on the throne, he shivered involuntarily.


    "I must control myself. No matter what happens in the future, I must not betray my true heart." Xiulote unwittingly clenched his fist, muttering to himself firmly, then silently nodded.


    Afterward, he remembered the dream king who had pushed him away.


    "Everyone is changed by power. What will Aweit become once he gains power?" The young man pondered worriedly.


    Seeing that it was just before dawn, Xiulote put on his robe and walked out of the tent. He sat cross-legged on the grass wet with morning dew, quietly watching the twinkling starry sky.


    It was September, which would be autumn in the northern hemisphere. Yet at this time, there was still the last warmth of the rainy season slowing fading on the Mexican Plateau.


    A pale bright star caught the young man¡¯s eye, heading in the direction of the east. It radiated a cold blue light, tinged with red, embodying a detached lethality. The young man was somewhat mesmerized, his pupils reflecting a faint light. That was Sirius, the star of murderous intent in Huaxia mythology, the star of conflagration in Ancient Greece mythology, and the star of solitude in Central American mythology. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "First success drums of war, three men converse shooting Divine Eagle. Two cups of lingering wine enter dreams, a single Sirius falls into a solitary heart~"


    The young man softly sang; the stars were so brilliant, the dreams so distant. Would a samurai, who was no longer solitary, perhaps one day become a lonely king?


    Xiulote momentarily lost track of time, just watching the pre-dawn sky. Until the dawn light began to brighten, and the sun rose in the east, revealing a beautiful morning sky. The young man¡¯s worries, like low whispers in the night, gently dissipated into the wind and were promptly forgotten.


    As the sun rose, the samurai awoke from their dreams. The sound of voices and clashing of weapons against armor made the camp boil with a murderous intent. Xiulote, neatly dressed, headed straight for the central grand tent.


    Inside the grand tent, Aweit¡¯s face wore a dignified expression. In his king¡¯s regalia, surrounded by jaguar warriors in full armor. Seeing Xiulote approaching, he nodded gently with a faint smile.


    The generals quickly assembled. Gazing at the slightly bright sky, Aweit smilingly gave an order.


    "Sterling, the sun has already risen; Ctoco must be awake by now. Go and bring up your prisoner from yesterday."


    The bear-like Sterling responded with a knowing smile, his bone ornaments lending a brutal footnote to his grin. His leather armor swayed as he strode away with large steps.


    Soon, a commotion came from outside the tent, where a voice roared angrily, though not very clearly, "I am the Alliance¡¯s newly honored Third Level nobility! How dare you insult me like this! Ugh... Ugh..."


    Then, the tent curtain was pulled open again as the tall and robust Sterling stepped in. His right arm firmly clamped around a struggling, slightly plump figure, half-choking the person¡¯s neck. His large frame dragged the other like a bear dragging a constantly flailing wild boar.

 Chapter 70 - 56 Inquiry_2

    Having dragged him into the middle of the tent, Stanley finally relaxed his grip, hurling "Wild Boar" forward. The figure stumbled and fell, sprawling on the ground and coughing for a long while before he slowly got up and stood straight.


    Xiulote took a closer look and saw that it was indeed the middle-aged Commander Quetzal from yesterday. Wearing only a nightgown, his hair was disheveled, and he appeared utterly discomfited. His face was flushed red, his recent suffocation and anger causing him to breathe heavily, his slightly portly body trembling continuously.


    Aweit watched this scene calmly. When Quetzal finally caught his breath, he asked with a smile, "Quetzal, since when did you become a Third Level Honored Noble? Was it promised by Tizoc? What else did he promise you?"


    Quetzal lowered his head to straighten out his nightgown and smooth his hair, pretending he hadn¡¯t heard, offering no reply.


    He was born into the lineage of the Chief Priest Quetzal, a true member of the Great Nobility. Years ago, he had already been a Second Level hereditary noble. Now with Tizoc in a precarious position, desperately needing his support in battle, he was promised the title of Third Level Honored Noble and the corresponding Chinampa. In Europe at that time, this was the equivalent of a distinguished Marquis or Earl.


    Xiulote knew well, in the Royal Family¡¯s civil war, even as a captive, the Great Noble Quetzal was confident of his life being worry-free, waiting for his eventual release after everything had ended.


    Aweit was not annoyed either. He simply continued smiling as he said, "Whatever Tizoc promised you, it counts for nothing now. Come, Quetzal, tell me, how is the situation at the Xilotepec main camp you were to support?"


    Upon hearing Aweit¡¯s words, the Great Noble Quetzal raised his head, opened his mouth as if to refute something, but then, seeing Aweit¡¯s Kingly Divine Attire and the Divine Staff in his hand, shut his mouth again. After a moment, he spoke somewhat irritably, "I don¡¯t know!"


    "You don¡¯t know?" Aweit continued to smile, only narrowing his eyes dangerously. He then glanced at Stanley.


    Stanley bowed respectfully. Then, his towering frame bent slightly as he placed his hands on Quetzal¡¯s shoulders, like a bear pinning down a wild boar. Taking a deep breath, he pressed down hard.


    The Great Noble Quetzal managed to resist for two seconds before being forced to kneel down powerfully, his body trembling with pain. His knees made two depressions in the muddy ground, and his head was pushed down, formally saluting Aweit.


    Aweit said nothing, watching the Great Noble Quetzal with a smile. Only after Quetzal raised his head again did he slowly drop his smile and asked in a cold, calm voice, "You said, you don¡¯t know?"


    This time, the Samurai stood still as statues. Xiulote also felt a chill in his heart, holding his breath, maintaining a solemn silence.


    All sounds in the tent disappeared in an instant, and you could hear a pin drop. The Great Noble Quetzal knelt, looking up, trying to face the dazzling, tall, and indifferent Aweit.


    It seemed to last only a moment, yet it felt like a long time had passed. Only then did Quetzal slowly lower his head and said in a low voice, "Respected King Brother, General Troel has already led four legions into Atotoztli territory. Before I set out with the reinforcements, I had already sent him a messenger, telling him there was no need to return for support.


    The camp in Xilotepec City was stealthily attacked by the elite Samurai of the Otomi under cover of night, and the original commander-in-chief was killed in the assault. The rear camp lost some food, but the casualties among the two legions stationed there were not significant. After a few days of chaos, now, a deputy commander from the direct troops, named Kuluka, has taken over as Commander-in-Chief."


    Aweit nodded slightly, "Kuluka? What kind of man is he?"


    Great Noble Quetzal opened his mouth silently, unable to speak.


    It was a while before, as Stanley started to press down on his neck again, that Quetzal spoke in a small, aggrieved voice, "He¡¯s just a Samurai of common birth, who I heard became a military noble at over thirty years of age. His appointment as Legion Commander this time is already a huge surprise. How could I concern myself with what kind of person he is?"


    Aweit frowned, and the Great Noble Quetzal immediately bowed his head with a scared look, appearing genuinely not to be pretending.


    After pondering for a moment, Aweit skipped this topic and continued, "Quetzal, how did you find out yesterday that the man beneath the Royal Banner was not Tizoc?"


    This time Quetzal responded promptly, "I had my suspicions. Timing-wise, even by boat travel on the waterways, the King couldn¡¯t possibly have arrived near Xilotepec at this time. Unless he abandoned all his troops and only brought the Imperial Guards. But as I approached for a closer look, despite the thousand Jaguar Warrior Brigade, there was no sign of the Tonsured Guards. The King would not leave his loyal Imperial Guards behind, so I deduced they were rebels!"


    Xiulote nodded slightly. Having gone through over a decade of military academy education, the Mexica military commanders, regardless of their abilities, have enough war knowledge to not make basic mistakes.


    Aweit¡¯s brows furrowed even deeper, his expressionless gaze fixed on the Great Nobility Quetzal.


    Quetzal met Aweit¡¯s gaze. Although his years had not been overly kind to his intelligence, they had at least granted him life¡¯s experience.


    He immediately realized his predicament and bowed his head to the ground, "I did not know at the time that it was your army. For our line of Chief Priests, we always maintain absolute neutrality in the strife of the Divine Descendants. Please believe me, release me back to the Capital, and I will relay your generosity and greatness to my uncle, Chief Priest Quetzal."


    Aweit did not speak, merely waving his hand dismissively. Both were clear that now was not the time for Quetzal¡¯s release. Yet since the line of Chief Priests had been mentioned, action would be tempered with a measure of mercy. Stanley understood and gently trapped Quetzal¡¯s chest with his arm. This time, Quetzal did not struggle, compliantly following the towering Samurai away.


    "Stow the King¡¯s insignia and raise Quetzal¡¯s banner. Now the most crucial factor is time! The army must set out immediately, destination the Xilotepec camp. Gentlemen, exert your full strength!" Aweit commanded authoritatively, his eyes sweeping over the assembled officers, who responded in unison and swiftly departed.


    Taking five days¡¯ worth of provisions and escorting the important captive, the twenty thousand Samurai rapidly struck camp and marched urgently toward the Xilotepec camp ahead. Aweit left behind two thousand loyal Samurai to take charge of the twenty thousand Militia and the baggage train and continue to follow behind.


    In the midst of the march, the youngster found an opportunity and sidled up to Aweit, grasping his good friend¡¯s arm.


    "Aweit, you were quite frightening this morning."


    Aweit waved his hand, signaling the Escort Samurai to spread out a bit, before smiling and saying, "These past two days were the first time I used the sacred regalia as a King. It was a very strange sensation that was somewhat intoxicating.


    As a King, only from a distant high position can I wield sacred power. With sacred power, I possess the authority to command everything. And only with ruthless authority can I control everyone. To maintain my authority, I must achieve continuous victories!"


    At this, Aweit finally showed a genuine smile, habitually pinched the youngster¡¯s cheek, "Come on, Xiulote, let¡¯s go greet our next victory!" sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The youngster rolled his eyes but felt relieved inside.


    After two days of rapid march, the twenty thousand Samurai soon arrived at the Xilotepec camp. Not far off, a tributary of the Tampen River flowed quietly by.


    Xiulote looked at the familiar riverside camp, where months of fortification had made the camp even more solid and imposing. Next to the outer wooden palisade, he saw signs of scorching from smoke and fire, as well as huge gaps from axes and clubs. Now, though, these breaches were filled with fresh stakes, retaining the original defensive strength.


    The memories of the past year were still fresh in the youngster¡¯s mind, and his heart was full of sentiment.


    There had been many beginnings here. It was here that he was chastened by the King, became good friends and students with Aweit, developed the trebuchet, and witnessed the surrender of Xilotepec City. Then, from the Priest¡¯s Ritual Plate, he thought to introduce the first un-Aztecized version of Chinese characters.


    For him, this was where the war began. And perhaps, the end of the war was not far off.


    Seeing the approaching Mexica army, the Samurai of the Xilotepec camp beat their shields, cheering enthusiastically. During this time, they had faced many challenges, and had been waiting for reinforcements for too long, feeling as if the days dragged on endlessly.


    The Defending Army in the Watchtower barely glanced at the Token brought by the Messenger and was about to order the gates to be opened.


    Just then, a middle-aged Samurai in his thirties hurried over. Dressed simply, carrying the plain flag of a Commander, he jogged to the wall of the camp. He quickly surveyed the Mexica army outside, rapidly counted on his fingers, and his face immediately changed color.


    Then came the urgent shout from the plain-dressed Samurai, "Stop, stop! Don¡¯t open the gates yet!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote and Aweit exchanged glances, their faces also changing.

 Chapter 71 - 57 Surrender

    September marked the end of the rainy season, with sporadic raindrops and overcast skies. Under the sky lay the solid wooden fort and, within and without, tens of thousands of Mexica samurai.


    Last September, the young man had followed King Tizoc¡¯s army and departed from here. This September, he returned with the army of Prince Aweit. Time had hurried by, life like a cycle of reincarnation, with only the hearts of the samurai changing.


    Standing outside the main camp, Xiulote carefully observed the fort¡¯s defenses. The layouts of the Mexica camps were always similar.


    The outermost perimeter was a dense palisade. Within the range of stones and arrows, it was the first defensive line to obstruct enemies.


    Further inside was the stockade wall, built from logs. The height and thickness of the stockade determined the camp¡¯s maximum defense capability. Here, the walls were just over two meters high and less than one meter thick, but that was enough to form a defensive advantage, delivering a sufficient penalty to the attacker¡¯s stamina and diminishing their assault. At this moment, all damaged areas of the wall had been repaired.


    Upon the wall stood dense ranks of warriors, dressed neatly in armor and carrying weapons and shields, probably ever-vigilant against the Otomi people. Between them was a considerable number of militia.


    To Xiulote¡¯s surprise, even the militia were armed as best as possible. They were essentially all equipped with shields, some holding the samurai¡¯s war club, others wearing ill-fitting, damaged leather armor. Upon closer inspection of the patterns on the armor, it was actually in the style of the Otomi.


    The young man couldn¡¯t help but nod in approval, his expression grave, "The commander here is quite capable; a direct assault would incur heavy losses."


    As the plain-clothed warrior on the wall shouted out commands, the watchtower guards stopped at the sound. Although the warriors near the wall were somewhat restless, with some issuing questioning outbursts, their actions were still in compliance with orders.


    Xiulote continued to observe, identifying the plain-clothed warrior¡¯s back banner, "That¡¯s the flag of a legion-level commander. The warriors in the camp are all under his command; it¡¯s very likely Commander-in-Chief Kuluka himself."


    Aweit nodded, he did not speak but simply waited for the response from the city battlements.


    The plain-clothed warrior stood behind the watchtower above the palisade, first issuing a few commands, mobilizing the camp¡¯s defending forces. Then he carefully concealed his form, peeping through gaps in the watchtower out towards the camp, eyeing the banners of the grand army.


    Before long, a troop of warriors climbed onto the wall, and toward the grand army outside the camp, they shouted in unison, "Is the army outside the reinforcements from Tenochtitlan? Please Commander Kotoko, step forward to talk. Please Commander Kotoko, step forward to talk!"


    Xiulote glanced at Aweit.


    The mentor pondered for a moment, then waved his hand, sending Stanley away. Shortly after, Kotoko was escorted over. Elite warriors dressed him in the commander¡¯s regalia, then firmly "escorted" him to their side.


    "Order the gates open," Aweit¡¯s gaze sharpened as he eyed Kotoko¡¯s trembling body. "You are the true Third Level noble of the Alliance. Otherwise..."


    Hearing this, the bear-like Stanley stretched out his thick and powerful hand, gently encircling Kotoko¡¯s neck, as if touching a delicate, fragile jade artifact. Two days ago, it was these hands that effortlessly snapped Kotoko¡¯s back banner. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kotoko immediately jolted as if electrocuted, his slightly overweight body quaking like a sieve. His strength drained from him, he was almost carried by the warriors to a spot less than a hundred meters from the wall. His command banner was also held high by the warriors.


    "I am the commander of the reinforcements, Kotoko!" His trembling voice was overly shrill and off-key.


    Looking at the numerous warriors on the wall, Great Noble Kotoko shuddered, seemingly finding some strength. Then, his face filled with emotion, he opened his mouth, intending to shout loudly, to alert the fort to something.


    Just then, Stanley¡¯s large hand timely and gently landed on the back of Kotoko¡¯s neck once more.


    Some strength rapidly left him, Kotoko opened his mouth to speak, yet unable to utter a word, as if performing in a silent pantomime, before tens of thousands of warriors watching from the camp.


    Stanley was somewhat anxious, trying to keep his expression calm, the hand at the nape applying slight pressure. Then he opened his mouth, whispering quietly, "Let them open the gate!"


    Kotoko trembled again but remained speechless. At this moment, he lacked the courage to resist and warn the fortress, nor did he have the courage to betray and call for the opening of the camp¡¯s gates.


    He simply stood there, dumbly watching the city head, like a puppet that had been drained of all vitality, turning into both a mute and a deaf.


    Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but shake his head. Aweit, too, furrowed his brow.


    The clamorous warriors gradually grew quiet, watching the scene before them. The fort was embraced by an odd silence. Soon, a tense atmosphere began to spread inside and outside the camp, with warriors nervously touching the weapons on their backs.


    Aweit finally shook his head. With a stern expression, he gave the command, and the twenty thousand Samurai outside the camp unfolded in sequence, forming a battle formation and gradually surrounding the Xilotepec camp.


    Xiulote continued to observe for a moment and noticed that the warriors inside the fortress had not yet laid down their arms, their faces bearing traces of confusion and hesitation.


    The youth then advised, "Aweit, why not put on the Divine Descendant King¡¯s sacred attire, take up the Divine Staff, and try to persuade them to surrender one more time at the camp? Even if it doesn¡¯t work, it might shake the resolve of those inside the camp and facilitate our upcoming assault."


    Aweit hesitated for a moment, then decided to take a risk. After all, there were no longbows on the city walls, only simple bows with limited power. He donned the Beast Helmet and Red Armor, tightly clutching the ornate Feather Shield in his left hand and raising the gemstone-encrusted Divine Staff high with his right hand, approaching the fortress gate under the heavy shield cover of over a hundred Jaguar warriors.


    "Open the gates quickly, the new King stands here!"


    "King Tizoc has been attacked in Otapan and was brutally killed by the treacherous Otomi! The esteemed younger brother has succeeded to the throne in Tenochtitlan and has become the most sacred Tratuoani!"


    Xiulote and Acap followed on either side. They wore Priest robes convincing enough to instill belief, and in the unique solemn chant of the Priests, they called out to those atop the city walls.


    The clear, archaic voices resounded throughout the camp, delivering the staggering news.


    Like deer faced with a Jaguar, the camp was instantaneously abuzz. The warriors on the palisades whispered to one another in shock, gazing down towards the city base. Their gazes converged on the majestic and solemn Aweit, and on the dazzling gemstone Divine Staff, with bursts of astonished cries.


    The simple-looking warriors behind the palisade walls also peeked out, scrutinizing Aweit dressed as the King. He glanced at the coyote-clad youth, looking around at the twenty thousand warriors encircling the camp, before barking angrily at those nearby.


    "The King is not dead, you foolish turkeys! Those below are rebels, the enemy!"


    Xiulote¡¯s eyelids twitched. He looked up at the simple warrior on the wall, who was stamping his feet, and suddenly took a keen interest in him.


    The standoff between those above and below the wall continued, with the warriors finally taking down their shields and weapons, and a grim atmosphere of killing intent spread. Years of training brought about an automatic muscular response. Regardless of their willingness, despite any confusion, the Mexica warriors were ready for combat. The battle was on the verge of erupting.


    Aweit¡¯s brows furrowed deeply.


    He watched the palisade-top warrior who was shouting loudly, and a flash of coldness went through his eyes. Then he slightly turned to the youth beside him, "Shoot him!"


    Xiulote nodded. He gestured to Bertade nearby, then pointed towards the command flag on the wall.


    Bertade obeyed the order with a salute. He summoned the best Archers from within the Longbow Guards, and fifty longbows were simultaneously aimed at the simple warrior on top of the palisade. Soon, the bowstrings were drawn, producing a heavy humming sound.


    As soon as the simple warrior on the wall saw the Archers¡¯ movements, he agilely leaped backward like a wary monkey. Once again, he hid behind the sturdy Watchtower, appearing to have been on guard all along.


    The longbows thundered, and the arrows flew like lightning. Dozens of Feathered Arrows arrived in a flash, sinking deep into the position where the simple warrior had just stood. The Archers were only seventy to eighty steps away from the wall, the perfect distance to achieve maximum flat-shooting power, with the Armor-Piercing copper arrowheads fully embedded in the wall, penetrating more than an inch into the wood.


    Xiulote saw a hand quickly reach out from behind the Watchtower, feeling the length at which the arrow penetrated the wood, tugging at an arrow without pulling it free, and then quickly withdrawing it, like a monkey stealing peaches.


    The youth couldn¡¯t help but laugh.


    Aweit didn¡¯t laugh. He raised his Divine Staff and swung it forward forcefully, issuing the command to attack.


    Suddenly, the drums of assault were being beaten. The drum beats were urgent and low, accompanied by the terrifying roars of the Jaguar warriors. The twenty thousand Samurai raised their weapons, prepared to launch an assault and breach the walls ahead.


    However, at this critical moment, a shrill sound of a conch horn rang out from within the encampment, and the gates suddenly opened.


    Xiulote saw that same plainly dressed warrior again. He wore Leather Armor, was stooped over, with the command flag on his back, carrying a heavy shield, stepping out under the protection of a dozen shield-bearing warriors.


    "We surrender!" The plainly dressed warrior emerged from the gate, immediately took off the command flag from his back, and threw it onto the ground. Then, in front of everyone, he knelt down, still not forgetting to keep his heavy shield raised in front of him.


    Witnessing this scene, the youth was left speechless.

 Chapter 72 - 58: Speeches and Trials

    The sky was overcast past noon, casting a heavy mood.


    However, Aweit was not affected by the weather. He stood majestically outside the camp, looking at the open gates and the commander who had surrendered, a slight curve lifting the corners of his mouth.


    He commanded authoritatively, disregarding the prostrated commander, and ordered his trusted aides to take him into custody. Then, thousands of Jaguar warriors, fully armed alongside tens of thousands of warriors, entered through the gates. They secured the gates and quickly occupied strategic points in the camp, finally disarming the camp warriors and gathering them together.


    The legion¡¯s commander had surrendered, the legion¡¯s banner had fallen, the superior force of fellow warriors had entered the camp, the King¡¯s banner had appeared!


    The eight thousand warriors in the camp, already wavering, now offered no resistance. They surrendered directly to the ceremonial regalia of Tratuoani and the Divine Staff of Montezuma. The march of battle halted in the final moment, and the camp changed hands in peace.


    Only after confirming that the army had entirely taken control of the Xilotepec camp did Aweit enter, his spirits high.


    He stood atop the high watchtower, loudly promising the captured warriors:


    "...I forgive your crimes of rebellion against the new King because you did not know of the change in rulership before. You have earned great merit in guarding against the Otomi people! I will generously reward those warriors who have shown bravery in the past months: the outstanding thousand warriors will be granted cotton and cocoa, the most excellent hundred veteran warriors will become military nobility, and the most exceptional ten nobles will be granted land in Chinampa!..."


    The mood among the captives quickly settled down during the speech.


    In the end, Aweit vowed passionately, "I will end the war within a month, and let all the warriors go home! Go home, back to the beautiful Lake Capital City! Back to the beautiful Mexica lands!"


    With the cries of going home, the camp erupted into booming cheers. Whether it was the captured eight-thousand-strong legion, the following twenty thousand warriors, or even the militia within the camp, everyone cheered warmly and embraced each other.


    Soon, under deliberate guidance, the resounding cheers in the camp turned into a deafening slogan, "Go home! Go home! Follow the Great Tlatoani Aweit! Go home! Go home! Follow the Great Tlatoani Aweit!"


    Xiulote smiled lightly, happily watching the boiling camp. The speech was his proposal.


    In the recent standoff, the young man had clearly seen that both the army outside the camp and the guards inside were very low in morale.


    The war had been ongoing for nearly a year and a half. With the Otomi assaults and the failure of Otapan¡¯s siege, the warriors saw no hope of victory.


    Their hearts were already filled with the longing to go home. Proposing to retreat and end the war could capture the warriors¡¯ hearts most quickly and fully, amassing the most energy for the final battle!


    In the Nava language, Tlatoani is a title for King, meaning "he who speaks." Great Tlatoani means "he who speaks greatly." The Great Tlatoani can be understood as "great monarch" or the Great Chief of the Alliance, a rank above Tlatoani, similar to how a son of Heaven ranks above feudal lords.


    Promoting this concept was, of course, not arrogantly self-appointing as the common ruler of Mexican tribes. It was merely necessary psychological preparation for the upcoming military campaign against Tizoc.


    Xiulote looked around the camp with evident self-satisfaction at the boiling morale of the warriors and militia. Then, he noticed the simply dressed warrior being kept in the corner. With a thoughtful expression, the young man carefully observed the simple warrior¡¯s features.


    The warrior looked to be in his early thirties, not very old. He had high cheekbones, a pointed chin, a broad forehead, and a somewhat thin face that made him resemble a monkey, far from the superior genes of the Great Nobility like Ctokoc, who was imposing in appearance.


    His face bore the signs of hardship, and his simple temperament was like that of a farmer, clearly not of noble birth. His drooping eyebrows added a touch of sorrow to his expression. Only his bright, intelligent eyes, twinkling with agility and wisdom, stood out.


    At that moment, the simply dressed warrior was listening intently to Aweit¡¯s speech, his expression changing rapidly with the content, evidently understanding deeply. Finally, upon hearing everyone¡¯s cheers, he could no longer hold back a sigh, and simply lay flat on the ground, his face against the dirt, completely devoid of a warrior¡¯s dignity. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote watched quietly, contemplating.


    After the speech ended, Aweit proceeded to the main tent of the camp surrounded by his generals. Although it seemed that the warriors¡¯ loyalty had returned, the necessary precautions were still indispensable.


    First, both the company and legion-level officers were gathered and detained, regardless of whether they were direct descendants of Tizoc. Next, Aweit allocated a portion of the supplies from logistics to reward the distinguished warriors and military nobility, continuing to win over their loyalty. Finally, he dispatched trustworthy family officers to integrate into various companies as key chiliarchs.


    Xiulote also stood by, learning how to manage and organize a large army.


    Only after settling the most crucial military affairs and securing tight control over the army did Aweit finally breathe a sigh of relief. It was then that he remembered something and whispered an order, "Bring the surrendered commander here!"


    Soon, the simply dressed warrior, head bowed, was brought in by two robust Jaguar warriors. Xiulote then realized that the warrior had a slightly thin frame and was not very tall, likely due to inadequate nutrition during childhood.


    Aweit was still in his majestic royal attire. He lightly tapped the end of his Divine Staff against a stone seat, producing a clear and unique ring.


    The elite warriors quickly quieted down. Everyone¡¯s gaze then fell on the simply dressed warrior.


    The plain-dressed Samurai lifted his head slightly, then respectfully knelt on the ground and performed a ritual greeting, "Military Nobility Kuluka greets His Highness, the esteemed Prince, wishing you great fortune in war."


    Aweit remained expressionless, offering no response to Kuluka¡¯s words. He did not set up any sort of intimidation either, for to him, dealing with a commoner-born ordinary Military Noble like this involved nothing more than dragging him out and executing him if necessary, which would not affect the bigger picture at all.


    Xiulote was well aware that at that moment, Kuluka¡¯s life hung by a thread in Aweit¡¯s mind, making excessive formalities utterly meaningless.


    "When you first saw the Commander¡¯s banner of Ktotoc, why did you not open the gates?" Aweit asked directly, his handsome face filled with divine majesty and indifference.


    "I noticed that the number of warriors was incorrect. Although both groups were around twenty thousand in size, Ktotoc couldn¡¯t possibly have that many warriors, including even a thousand from the elite Jaguar Warrior Brigade." Kuluka, clearly aware of his own predicament, answered respectfully and honestly.


    "Why were you sure that Tizoc wasn¡¯t dead? Did he send you a Messenger?" the "Divine" on the stone throne continued questioning.


    "I did not receive a Messenger from King Tizoc." Kuluka used the corner of his eye to sneak a glance at Aweit¡¯s expression, but could discern nothing.


    He could only continue answering cautiously, "However, if King Tizoc had passed away, Your respected Highness would officially inherit the throne. You could simply send a Commander to the large camp at Xilotepec, such as Lord Ktotoc, to take over the command of the army, without needing to degrade yourself by coming here in person."


    "Even if you did come in person, there would be no need to initially fly the banner of Ktotoc. You could have directly displayed the Royal Banner. As long as there was certain news of King Tizoc, and with the endorsement of the Priesthood, your position would be unshakeable."


    "But you chose to hide amidst Lord Ktotoc¡¯s troops, and Lord Ktotoc¡¯s actions were quite strange, which only proves one thing."


    "What thing?" Aweit¡¯s voice fluctuated slightly.


    Xiulote also curiously paid attention. As expected, Kuluka was indeed clever.


    "You are an enemy¡­ an adversary, not our ally, intending to take over the large camp at Xilotepec. The purpose of taking here must be to contend against the living King Tizoc," Kuluka dared to sneak another look forward.


    Aweit slightly narrowed his eyes, like a Jaguar about to pounce.


    "So you are loyal to Tizoc, thinking I am a rebel?" came the flat voice, void of any emotion.


    Kuluka, frightened, thudded down on the ground, his head pressing tightly against the surface. "No, I am just a commoner-born Military Noble, never having received King Tizoc¡¯s favor. That I could temporarily command the army was solely due to the trust and recognition of my comrades. Regarding the Royal Family¡¯s hierarchy, someone as lowly as I am has no right to comment."


    Aweit said nothing, just letting Kuluka lie prostrate on the ground. A long time passed, sweat oozing from Kuluka¡¯s forehead, before he finally asked in a deep voice.


    "Kuluka, why did you initially refuse to open the gates, and then later choose to surrender?"


    This time, Kuluka dared not sneak a glance forward. He continued to respond while prostrated: "Initially, I had some ignorant confidence. I thought that facing twenty thousand warriors, with my abilities and relying on the fortifications, I could still hold the large camp.


    But later, when your Royal Banner was raised and the supreme Divine Staff was held high, the army¡¯s morale at the camp was severely shaken. The warriors were filled with doubt, and I too grew uncertain. When the warriors holding Greatbows began to shoot, striking wood more than an inch deep from over a hundred meters away, I became certain that the camp could not be defended! No warrior could survive under such shooting.


    Since it couldn¡¯t be held, causing greater damage to your grand army would be meaningless for me and detrimental to the warriors who trusted me. Better to straightforwardly surrender, betting on you being a tolerant, magnificent, benevolent, and wise Highness."


    Having finished his last statement, Kuluka still couldn¡¯t help but sneak another glance at Aweit, and Xiulote caught him squarely doing so.


    Aweit fell silent for a moment before his voice adopted a chilly tone, "It seems, Kuluka, that you possess no loyalty to the Royal Family. Today, you can straightforwardly betray Tizoc. Tomorrow, you would betray me without hesitation!"


    At this point, a hint of a smile appeared on Aweit¡¯s indifferent face, yet his eyes carried an unmistakable murderous intent, "I¡¯ll give you one last chance to persuade me to take you as my subordinate. Otherwise, you¡¯ll head to the Divine Kingdom!"


    The tent was as silent as death, the generals as quiet as cicadas in winter. This was the ultimate majesty of the King, and the power that decided all.


    Kuluka lay tightly on the ground, his body starting to shake uncontrollably. Large beads of sweat kept dripping from his neck, quickly wetting the ground.


    Xiulote watched the plain-dressed Samurai on the ground, hesitating a bit, wanting to plead for Kuluka.


    But when he looked again at Aweit¡¯s familiar yet unfamiliar majestic face, a chill ran through his heart, and the pleading words just couldn¡¯t be spoken.


    "This is supreme power," the young man sighed softly in his heart.

 Chapter 73 - 59 Saving People

    Time is always elusive, its pace shifting with the emotions of the heart. In the hushed grand tent, it seemed as if a moment had passed, yet also like a century.


    Kuluka lay prostrate on the ground, like a weed swaying in the wind, trembling weakly. What could the weed on the ground say to the scorching sun above? It could only wither, losing moisture and vitality under the blazing heat.


    For a moment, there was silence. Then, from the stone throne at the center of the grand tent, a soul-shattering sound rang out once more.


    It was then that Kuluka struggled to speak, trying to maintain a calm response:


    "Great Prince, I am an excellent Samurai and an outstanding Commander. I am familiar with the terrain, adept at judging situations, and capable of leading your legion into battle. I have keen observation skills, seizing opportune moments, and I can serve as your staff officer. My mathematics is also good, and I understand civil engineering, able to manage your Craftsmen.


    I am a common Samurai, understand the thoughts of ordinary warriors, care for their lives, and get along well with the Militia. The warriors in the camp recognize and support me. That¡¯s how I became a temporary Commander..."


    Xiulote listened with interest to Kuluka¡¯s self-promotion and quietly observed his teacher on the stone throne.


    He saw Aweit¡¯s eyebrows furrow slightly, his eyes dangerously narrowed, his lips tightened. Knowing his teacher well, he immediately realized that because of something Kuluka had said, Aweit had become intent on killing him.


    Kuluka did not dare to raise his head. Unaware, he continued the interview that would determine life or death:


    "I was born into an ordinary Samurai family. My grandfather once followed the great Montezuma I and became a Nobility through his military exploits. My father followed Asayacatl and died of illness in the southern Rainforest campaigns. Military Nobility could not be inherited, and both my father and I were just common Samurais.


    The life of a common Samurai is very hard. It wasn¡¯t until I was over thirty that I finally became Military Nobility. I don¡¯t want my descendants to repeat this difficult struggle. If you promise me the inheritance of Second-Level Nobility, I swear to Huitzilopochtli, the Sun God: I will remain loyal to you for life, never to betray!..."


    Xiulote nodded slightly, Military Nobility being the dividing line between commoners and Nobles. For Kuluka, a commoner, to be promoted to Military Nobility in his early thirties was in itself proof of his excellent ability and flexible handling of affairs. First-Level Military Nobility was like a Knight, possessing some land and privileges.


    And Second-Level hereditary Nobility lay between Viscount and Baron. The phrase "hereditary" means the privilege that passes on to descendants. Once one becomes a hereditary Noble, they enter the ranks of the Great Nobility, which share common cause with the nation. The difficulty of this threshold is thus not hard to imagine.


    Hearing Kuluka¡¯s self-appraisal, Aweit said nothing.


    The majestic King simply turned his face slightly away, no longer looking at Kuluka, then flicked the back of his hand outward lightly.


    The trusted aides immediately understood. Two towering Jaguar warriors stepped forward again, one grabbing Kuluka¡¯s arm as if seizing a monkey before execution, and dragged him straight out of the grand tent.


    Kuluka struggled violently, but was completely unable to break free from the grasp of the Jaguar warriors. The desire to live made him shout at his fastest speed, using all his strength, crying out his most genuine plea:


    "Tizoc is but an aging Jaguar! With the siege failed, he¡¯s completely deserted! His weakness is laid bare for all to see, no longer able to intimidate fierce beasts or drive Coyotes like me. The camp is lost, all that awaits him is death!"


    Aweit turned his face back, his gaze sharp as an eagle¡¯s. He scrutinized Kuluka¡¯s expression carefully. The trusted aides immediately stopped, leaving Kuluka on the threshold of life and death.


    Kuluka gasped for breath, staking everything. He shouted once more towards the King on the stone throne:


    "You are the young Jaguar, the new King of the Mexica Jungle, full of wisdom and strength! I am willing to be your war dog, to be driven by you, to chase field mice and hares, to kill running deer, until I die before you age!"


    Aweit¡¯s gaze became more scrutinizing. With a familiar understanding, the young man felt his teacher¡¯s intent to kill wane.


    "If you wish to become the Divine Eagle, flying into the vast sky, soaring over the jungles and mountains of Mexica, to preside over the tribes of Mexico! Then I will be your most loyal helper, your pack of wolves, killing Jaguars and bears for you, spreading the glory of the Guardian God across the entire Highland! As long as the Divine Eagle does not descend to the ground, the Coyote poses no threat!"


    Kuluka¡¯s face flushed red. Between life and death, his heart thumped violently, fear etched deeply on his face, accompanied by an inexplicable exhilaration, his arms waving unconsciously in the process.


    Xiulote noted the plain Samurai¡¯s movements and expressions. Hmm, too much adrenaline rushing, definitely a collapse of strength coming.


    "How can there be absolute loyalty in this world? My loyalty depends only on you! Great Great Tlatoani, the future magnificent King!"


    Kuluka shouted his last sentence with all his might. Then he was completely drained of strength, like a dehydrated fish, hanging from the arms of the Jaguar warriors.


    The youth silently chuckled. Not too bad, even in his agitation, Kuluka hadn¡¯t completely lost his reason¡ªhis will to live was strong.


    Aweit pondered briefly before smiling gently, "The Divine Eagle, the Coyote? Quite the orator."


    Then, he made a gesture as if to bring someone over. The trusted aides once again dragged Kuluka back to his original spot. No sooner had they released their grip than Kuluka¡¯s strength gave out, and he slumped to the ground. Like a broken stalk of withered grass, he collapsed at an angle, only half his face exposed to the piercing gazes.


    Xiulote quickly deliberated. He could always feel Aweit¡¯s murderous intent towards Kuluka. Where did this persistent thirst to kill stem from? He recalled that the murderous intent peaked when Kuluka declared he had been elected Commander by the camp.


    Suddenly, the youth had a realization: Aweit always favored a carrot-and-stick approach. This was a peaceful conquest of the camp, with generous promises made to the samurai. Favors had been given, yet an air of authority seemed lacking. To establish his authority quickly, Kuluka was the chosen one, a chicken killed to warn the monkeys.


    Since Kuluka was supported by a faction of warriors and had also been a camp Commander, his presence in the camp was always a threat. With a decisive battle nearing, the teacher was not prepared to leave any potential instability unaddressed¡ªeven the slightest possibility warranted elimination.


    "Kill one to awe the army, execute; reward one to delight the masses, bestow." An ancient Huaxia saying surfaced in the youth¡¯s mind.


    Talent was precious. Waiting any longer, Kuluka would still die. Xiulote thought it over and decided to intervene and save him.


    "Aweit," the youth said with a joyful smile, "although this Kuluka comes from common stock, talent is, after all, hard to come by. Since he understands mathematics and is adept at civil engineering, let him join my craftsman team. I will keep him by my side at all times, with Bertade strictly overseeing him."


    "Now we have an army of thirty thousand samurai and nearly as many militia, the next strike will be the winning blow!" He concluded, the joy finally brimming from within, spreading across the youth¡¯s face.


    Aweit on the stone throne looked towards the youth; his icy gaze finally softened. The King¡¯s cruelty was temporarily supplanted by the teacher¡¯s gentleness. He smiled faintly, nodding to Xiulote.


    After a moment¡¯s contemplation, the cold and imposing voice sounded again, "Kuluka, do you still wish to become a Second Level hereditary noble?"


    Kuluka, just recovering from his weakness on the ground, managed to kneel properly. Upon hearing the question, he instinctively nodded, then shook his head desperately.


    A light chuckle rose from the stone throne, followed by an unquestionable command, "Kuluka, from this moment on, you are to offer your loyalty to Priest Xiulote. The Divine Eagle does not tolerate the betrayal of a Coyote, even the thought of it signifies death! Do your duty, and until your demise, I grant you the succession of a hereditary noble!"


    Kuluka once again prostrated respectfully, "I obey your will, Great Tlatoani!" His head buried deeply in the ground, he let out a nearly inaudible sigh of relief¡ªhis life was spared.


    Immediately afterward, Aweit waved a hand. The trusted aides stepped forward to take Kuluka away. As they passed by Xiulote, Kuluka managed to squeeze out a sincere smile, "My respects to you, benevolent Priest."


    The youth nodded gently, with a mild smile.


    Aweit surveyed his generals with an authoritative air and issued the command for battle, "Return to camp tonight for preparation, set out tomorrow. Thirty thousand samurai will march to the highland camps to the west, awaiting our final prey! Roar!" S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The generals in the tent thunderously echoed, their war cries like the howls of a wolf pack. The confidence in their victory and the desire for future glory transformed into a ferocious fighting spirit, blazing in their eyes, roaring in the samurais¡¯ chests.


    In that moment, infected by the fervent atmosphere, Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but let out a long, impassioned howl!


    Then, the King¡¯s coldness descended once again.


    "Ketoco defied my orders and did not open the camp gates; he must be punished. Tomorrow morning, as the armies gather, we¡¯ll use him for the ritual execution and display his head before all troops!"


    Xiulote bowed his head slightly. With the decisive battle approaching and the need to balance benevolence and authority, someone¡¯s head had to be offered as the price. Having saved the simple samurai Kuluka, it was time to use the Great Noble Ketoco as compensation.


    "Generals, heed my command: this battle shall result in victory, not defeat; this is the will of the gods, and it shall not be defied!"


    Aweit stood up, the Divine Staff once again raised high, like the avatar of a deity.


    The people inside the tent fell into sudden silence. The generals prostrated in unison, responding thunderously once more. They were welcoming the birth of a fierce sun, to replace the vestiges of the old day¡¯s twilight!

 Chapter 74 - 60: Calculations on the Eve of Departure

    As the sun set and night fell, the rear army¡¯s two thousand Samurai finally arrived with twenty thousand Militia and baggage, setting up camp in Xilotepec.


    The campsite was abuzz with human voices. The Militia were busy organizing the baggage, grinding corn flour, baking cornbread, and preparing provisions for the departure the next day. The Samurai gathered by camp units, discussing their hopes of returning home and fantasizing about the beauty of their homeland. The new Commanders of each camp were not idle; they were using their time to familiarize themselves with the Centurions under their command and to restore the organizational structure of the army.


    Inside the tent, Aweit shed the attire of the King and the burdens of royalty, revealing a more relaxed and comfortable demeanor.


    He wore only a robe, continuing to handle military affairs beside the campfire. On the eve of the expedition, military matters were intricate. Xiulote also assisted by his side, learning and helping to arrange the subsequent marching plans.


    After the surrender of the Xilotepec camp, the army now boasted thirty thousand Samurai and nearly thirty thousand Militia. The daily logistics arrangements, the marching plans of each camp, and the replenishment of food and supplies... all these matters came pouring in. With the increase in numbers, every task became extremely burdensome.


    And now, as they were about to face battle, the work became even more complicated. The army had to prepare various plans and contingencies, even though most of these plans would never be used.


    These affairs first went through preliminary handling by the staff, then flowed to the Supreme Commander, awaiting the final decision¡ªas if they were simply wooden boards in the hands of a youth.


    "There are still too few Samurai who are proficient in mathematics!" Looking at the wooden board in his hand, Xiulote inwardly called for talent. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In his hands were the camp records handed over after the surrender of Kuluka: a massive wooden board containing all the camp information depicted in drawings. Because there was no established script, the Mexica commanders had to use drawings to record detailed military intelligence.


    The youth first saw a group of small pictorial figures, which were very illustrative; he understood them at a glance.


    Above were eight simple little figures holding sticks, representing eight thousand Militia. Below them were four square little figures wearing hats and Leather Armor, representing four thousand City-State Warriors. At the very bottom were four figures with hats, wearing Leather Armor embossed with the character "return," representing four thousand Samurai directly affiliated with the Royal Family.


    To the far left of the Samurai figures were three large flags of varying sizes. The flags bore a rectangular block filled densely with vertical bars and divided in the middle by a red strip, like a ruler.


    "What is this? A command flag?" The youth studied it for a while and made a judgment.


    Aweit took the wooden board and glanced at it.


    "Correct, Commander flags. The three flags represent the Samurai coming from three different City-States. The floral pattern of the City-State is on the edge of the flag," Aweit recognized. In this era, such military knowledge was a secret passed down between master and disciple, accessible only to senior commanders.


    "The rectangular block represents the number of troops," Aweit pointed to the largest rectangle, "Look, this pattern is the emblem of the Capital of Tenochtitlan, considering the size of the block, it¡¯s around four thousand people."


    As he spoke, he pointed to the other two commander flags, "These two, the smaller City-State probably has about one thousand seven hundred Samurai, and the larger one about two thousand three hundred."


    The youth was astounded; calculating area from images was such an impressive skill?


    "Teacher, that¡¯s amazing, how can you calculate so accurately?"


    Aweit laughed heartily, tapping the youth lightly on the head. Hmm, it didn¡¯t hurt at all.


    "Look at these vertical bars in the rectangle, each bar represents a Samurai squad, distinguished by different patterns, generally consisting of 80 to 120 people. Count how many bars there are, and you can roughly figure out how many Samurai there are,"


    Xiulote nodded. The Samurai squad was the basic tactical unit, usually led by an experienced Samurai who could command the troops in Scout, hunting, Formations, assault, and defense orders. One day, when there was a chance, he still had to reform the army into unified squads of a hundred and Centurions.


    "So what does this red ruler mean?" The youth continued to inquire.


    "It depends on the commander¡¯s own ideas who drew the picture," Aweit smiled. "The red line divides the Samurai squads into major categories. For me, I prefer to place squads skilled in offense above and those skilled in defense below."


    "And my former commander teacher liked to place the less important civilian Militia above as tactical expendables and the important Nobility Samurai below for cautious use."


    The youth understood that distinctions were everywhere, and everyone had a ruler in their heart.


    Then, he looked again at the twenty small flags to the left of the Militia figures, the flags had simpler patterns with a blank rectangle above them.


    "So these twenty small flags mean that the Militia come from twenty different villages? But why is the rectangle blank?" the youth extrapolated.


    "Right, twenty different villages; the patterns represent the villages belonging to different Great Nobility or Royal Family," Aweit nodded with a smile, a rare moment of relaxation while mentoring Xiulote.


    "As for why it is blank? Of course, that¡¯s because no one knows the exact number! The Militia are conscripted by village, led by the village leaders, and gathered in groups. The commanders will only roughly estimate their numbers based on their area, and then deploy them to specific construction projects or expendable secondary battlefields,"


    Thus the youth understood, Militia were consumable war assets, widely used, with no need to know specific numbers or casualties.

 Chapter 75 - 60: Calculations at the Temple on the Eve of Departure_2

    Xiulote shook his head and continued to analyze the military situation from the drawings. He suddenly saw a very vivid shape.


    "Is this yellow cluster a corn cake? There¡¯s one, two, three, four... twenty-five?"


    "Hmm. This cluster represents the ready-made dry food, usually corn cakes. Normally, when stationed, the samurai can eat just two meals a day, one in the morning and one in the evening, each consisting of two cakes. On the march, a strong samurai needs at least three cakes per meal. And on the day before a battle, samurai need to accumulate more physical strength, so they will eat three meals, each consisting of more than three cakes."


    The young man nodded, understanding that food supplies must precede the troops. Battles and marches consume more food. Marching rations must be light in weight and small in volume. The best choice is to make corn cakes, as they are convenient to carry and are dry and solid.


    "And here, one cluster of corn cakes represents the ten-day consumption of a thousand samurai. Twenty-five corn cakes mean that the main camp originally had enough marching rations for twenty-five thousand samurai for ten days. Kuluka really prepared well."


    "Tomorrow we need to deploy thirty thousand samurai, and we must prepare at least ten days¡¯ worth of dry rations, so that would require thirty corn cakes. It¡¯s better to have some extra, so let¡¯s have thirty thousand militiamen work tonight and make up to forty by dawn!"


    After speaking, Aweit called his trusted aide to immediately convey the new orders.


    "What about the militia¡¯s food supply?" the young man asked curiously, as he hadn¡¯t seen a corresponding symbol.


    "The militia generally brings their own food, mostly sweet potatoes, corn, beans, and squash. They will also forage for additional items like wild rabbits, field mice, wild vegetables, leaves, or insects during the march.


    If there is a shortage of food in the camp, the militiamen are usually the first to be abandoned. Commanders typically launch a meaningless assault to expend them first to prevent unrest among the militia. Of course, if there is enough food in the camp and the commander wants to train the militia, they also will be supplied with an extra meal of corn cakes each day."


    Xiulote remained silent for a moment. An ancient Huaxia poem says, "Men remain sleepless, generals¡¯ white hairs and soldiers¡¯ tears."


    In the writings of civil officials, there is a shared sentiment between generals and soldiers. However, the militia cannot be compared to the samurai, let alone to the commanders. The militia must labor day and night, preparing dry rations and digging ditches. They must also endure continuous hunger and be the first to suffer casualties.


    Thus, the soldiers should only have tears, not white hairs, because they don¡¯t live long enough to develop them.


    The moment of tenderness passed quickly. The young man looked around again but didn¡¯t find any new food symbols. He then asked with perplexity, "How much food is left in the main camp?"


    Aweit promptly turned the large wooden board over. In that instant, hundreds of food symbols in the form of simple square sketches appeared before the young man¡¯s eyes.


    Corn, beans, squash, fish, avocados, chili peppers, and cocoa were all depicted in individual square frames, neatly arranged to fill the entire board. Xiulote occasionally saw frames with corn being crossed out, and others circled.


    "What do these frames represent? And these lines and circles?"


    "Like the corn cake clusters, a frame represents the ten-day consumption for a thousand people. Crossed-out frames indicate losses, such as Otomi guerrilla attacks or mountain transport damages. Circled ones indicate spoilage; this food can harm a samurai¡¯s health and, after simple processing, is left for the militia. There are always militiamen for whom the food is insufficient."


    There are now... let me count... about three hundred frames here, which means food for one hundred thousand people for a month. This was likely prepared for Tizoc¡¯s grand army, now all amassed here. Xilotepec¡¯s main camp benefits from its proximity to the river, making it convenient to transport food. This batch of food should be enough for us!"


    However, this kind of frame is quite inaccurate. Such raw food can sometimes feed only eight hundred people, and other times up to twelve hundred, depending a lot on the quartermaster¡¯s mathematical skills and the rate at which the food spoils."


    If there are no major issues, the losses are still tolerable. But if a major problem arises, it is the time for the quartermasters to pay with their lives, regardless of their nobility rank. For the Alliance, it¡¯s also the position that sees the most executions." S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "As a commander, to ensure there is an accurate amount of food when the samurai march, it is still better to choose processed corn cakes. Corn cakes can also be stored longer than raw food."


    Xiulote nodded; food storage and transportation are always major issues. In the warm, humid rainy season, storage losses alone can account for up to thirty percent per month, and transportation losses are proportional to the distance."


    In simple encampments, old food often cannot be stored for long, so the army¡¯s food supply is always insufficient."


    Once the supply lines are cut and there are no new food supplies, the old food quickly spoils during the rainy season. Just like the current King Tizoc, he is definitely facing a severe food shortage. And once there is a shortage, the military¡¯s morale plummets, and combat effectiveness rapidly declines."


    "If we could establish an efficient logistics team, it would greatly reduce the Empire¡¯s burden of food supply when deploying. Of course, first I need to cultivate a group of experts proficient in calculation." The young man set another goal for military reform in his mind.


    Xiulote continued to turn the wooden board back to its front. His attention was finally caught by a row of prominent long banners in the center of the board, adorned with many bright green feathers, next to various intricate patterns.


    "What is this? It looks very detailed." The young man was puzzled, counting a total of nine long banners.

 Chapter 76 - 60: Calculations at the Temple on the Eve of Departure_3

    "This is the mainstay of the army," Aweit said with some emotion. "The nine long flags represent the lineages of nine hereditary nobilities. The number of feathers on the long flags represents the number of the Great Nobility."


    "Generally speaking, these feathers make up at least half of your army¡¯s battalion-level commanders, all of your regiment-level commanders! Each feather representing the Great Nobility starts as a battalion-level commander, equivalent to the pinnacle of an ordinary civilian Samurai."


    The youth shook his head; the resistance to military reform in the commander system was still too great.


    As he spoke, Aweit took out an old wooden board. This was military information acquired from Quetzal after capturing the Capital City reinforcements. He found the flag at the forefront, pointing to the largest feather and said:


    "Look, Xiulote, this flag with the sunflower pattern is the family emblem of the Quetzal lineage. The largest feather on top is Quetzal. Since we¡¯re going to use it as the ritual flag first thing tomorrow morning, let¡¯s paint over it now."


    Aweit then casually picked up a brush, dipped it into the Maya blue dye used for sacrifices, and covered the feather representing the Great Nobility Quetzal with a stroke. "Quetzal" was covered in blue, sacrificed to the Heavenly Divine.


    "Aweit, are we really going to execute Quetzal tomorrow? If this news spreads to the Capital, how would the Chief Priest Quetzal react?" the youth asked seriously.


    "Of course, Quetzal is the Supreme Commander of the reinforcements; keeping him alive is always a risk. His execution will serve well to deter the generals and Samurais, increasing our chances of victory," Aweit declared.


    Aweit sat up straight. His bright eyes sparkled with the edge of a Commander-in-Chief. A King¡¯s confidence appeared on his smiling face.


    "Let¡¯s give it our all in this battle! If we win, we¡¯ll have everything, ascend to the throne, become the Divine Eagle soaring into the sky. If we lose, we¡¯ll lose our lives, join the Divine Kingdom, and fall as petals into the abyss. Why worry so much!"


    Aweit laughed heartily, tossing the wooden board to the side. He then pulled the youth toward him, sitting him beside himself.


    "These drawings are too cumbersome; come, let¡¯s use your invented writing to reorganize the military information." Saying this, Aweit picked up the brush and started recording on the wooden board: "Thirty thousand Samurais, thirty thousand Militia, food for a hundred thousand for one month..."


    Xiulote thought for a moment, then suddenly broke into a smile: "Aweit, now it¡¯s my turn to teach you something."


    With that, the youth snatched the brush and wooden board from his teacher¡¯s hands and wrote in Chinese characters:


    "He who calculates well before the battle is won has many such calculations; he who calculates poorly is defeated. More calculations lead to victory, fewer lead to defeat, not to mention no calculations at all!"


    "What is this?"


    Xiulote burst out laughing, throwing the wooden board to the side like his teacher did. He then grabbed the elder¡¯s hand, lifted the tent flap, and together they gazed at the vast and distant Milky Way.


    The stars in the galaxy haven¡¯t changed for millennia, and wars will continue for millennia. The youth recalled the images from his "memories": the Napoleonic Wars, the Civil War, the Franco-Prussian War, World War I, World War II, from the Army General Staff to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, from industrialization to digitalization, until the era when computing decided everything!


    "This is the future of war!" the youth said confidently, gazing at the bright stars. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...Come over here! Copy the military intelligence."


    "Ouch, ouch, ouch, stop pinching my face, it hurts so much!"


    The night before they set off was filled with hustle and bustle. Only when Sirius quietly rose and dawn was not far off did they finally complete the last of their strategic planning and solidify their battle plan.


    The two had completed all military preparations and had managed to forget the pressure of the upcoming battle for a rare moment.


    Temporarily freed from the shackles of the throne, all they discussed was the direction of military reform, hands joined in creating a future that could change everything.

 Chapter 77 - 61: When the king is unjust, he should be overthrown.

    The next morning, as the rainy season drew to a close and the sun showered down from the sky, a rare clear day unfolded.


    Thirty thousand Mexica samurai assembled outside the encampment, spreading over the desolate fields and intimidating the Otomi people within the city of Xilotepec. Samurai were the dominators of war, the force capable of conquering all. Now, nearly a third of the Empire¡¯s might was gathered here, obeying the King¡¯s command.


    The sacrificial altar had already been raised high; thirty thousand warriors gathered, and the ceremony of departure for war began.


    Xiulote sang ancient songs in praise of the sun, while Acap brandished an obsidian dagger used for sacrifices. This represented the holy sacrificial rite offered to the Sun God, in the name of the divine, declaring the affairs of the human world.


    Behind them stood nearly a hundred priests of various ranks. Everyone was dressed in ancient garb, solemn in demeanor. With feather crowns raised high, they played the distant, desolate pottery flutes and danced mysterious, ancient sacrificial dances, creating the solemnity of a formal ceremony.


    The priesthood had just recently arrived from the Holy City of Teotihuacan to support Acap, who was now their leader. This also represented the High Priest Xutel¡¯s support for the prince Aweit, anointing the prince¡¯s campaign with the lofty authority of the divine and rallying the heart of the warriors.


    Under the gaze of thirty thousand samurai, the Great Nobility member Ctotoc trembled as he crawled on the ground, having been previously fed Obsidian Knife Water. Now with a vacant gaze and limp limbs, he was unable to speak. Beside him were several of Tizoc¡¯s trusted officers, also in a narcotized state.


    Xiulote had learned the recipe for the Knife Water from his grandfather. This anesthetic was commonly used before sacrificial rites, with main ingredients being psychoactive and sedating herbs like datura, nightshade, mandragora, and psilocybin mushrooms, as well as fortified tequila. These plants were known as "the plants of the gods" and were also added to sacred smoke by the Maya and Tarasco people.


    "The effects of the potion are quite good, suitable for an anesthetic during surgery," the young man mused solemnly as he sang, "though the name is too plain. It would be better called ¡¯Sacrificial Water!¡¯"


    Urgent military matters dictated simplicity. Before long, the solemn ceremony moved into the exalted sacrificial phase, and all the warriors held their breath. Their gaze fixated upon the altar, filled with reverence. Everything was silent between heaven and earth, except for the sacrificial song.


    Ctotoc, like a boar to be slaughtered, was effortlessly dragged a hundred meters by the giant Stanley and brought onto the sacrificial altar. Then, under the obsidian daggers of the priests and in the trance of the Divine Kingdom, the blood of the Divine Descendant flowed on the altar, transforming into a noble sacrifice offered to the Sun God Huitzilopochtli.


    In the comforting sunshine, Acap raised the warm offering in his hands and cried out the name of "Huitzilopochtli" to invoke the God¡¯s descent. Thirty thousand warriors also knelt in unison, calling out before the altar in a thunderous chant that echoed through the heavens and earth like lightning tearing the world asunder! After three cries, they prostrated themselves completely.


    In the nearby city of Xilotepec, the Otomi nobility shivered amidst the shouts, well familiar with the ritual¡ªan inexhaustible source of the Aztec¡¯s prowess in battle and a nightmare for the Otomi.


    Soon, dozens of tall poles rose in front of the altar, heads of sacrifices now impaled to intimidate the three armies.


    "Tizoc¡¯s war against the Otomi failed, it¡¯s time now to finish this war!"


    Xiulote stood majestically atop the altar, shouting to the multitude with solemnity. His mind was filled with his grandfather¡¯s motivational speech in the Holy City, his body clad in the black garb of a celestial dog priest.


    It was his "gift" from Tizoc after his first trial of life and death. At that time Tizoc held a great army, and having just learned of the peculiar omens of his birth and his innate exceptional wisdom, the King¡¯s murderous intent had arisen. With suspicion in his heart, the boy¡¯s father and grandfather could only watch in humiliation as he was taken away, his life hanging by a thread in the hands of others. After that came the clandestine communication between his grandfather and Aweit.


    This was the cause of all that had transpired, and it would bear witness to the outcome.


    "But Tizoc does not intend to end this war! For the sake of his shattered reputation, he wants to lay siege again and again, squandering the lives of warriors in the dreadful rainy season and the endless forests. There, warriors don¡¯t even get a death in battle with honor. They die either from weakness due to sickness or at the hands of despicable Otomi militia, never reaching the domain of the War God!"


    The siege had failed. What was next for Tizoc? Xiulote didn¡¯t know. But the Samurai had to know that their former king had become their enemy, the target of their weapons.


    Remembering the forever damp rainy seasons, the endlessly harsh forests, and the Otomi people who were like swarms of mosquitoes, many Samurai showed pained expressions on their faces. The religious beliefs instilled in them since childhood made them not so much fear death. But dying without a glorious death in battle... That¡¯s what the Samurai feared in the afterlife.


    "Tizoc has failed. He could not lead the Samurai to victory. He didn¡¯t cherish the lives of the Samurai. He has been stripped of his kingship!"


    In the Mexica Empire, failure to achieve victory was the greatest sin of a king.


    "Under the supreme witness of the Sun God, the War God, the Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, brother Aweit has ascended as Great Tlatoani! The High Priesthood of the Holy City has sworn allegiance to the new king. He will end this war and send all Samurai home! Now, it is time for you to show your loyalty!"


    With these oath-taking words, Aweit, clad in the king¡¯s regal attire, raised Montezuma¡¯s Divine Staff, climbing atop the highest divine altar.


    The youth then took out an Obsidian Dagger, cut a lock of his own hair, and placed it on the sacred altar before Aweit. The youth blinked quietly, while Aweit, radiant, watched the boy, a faint curve forming on his lips.


    Next was Acap, cutting his hair to swear allegiance, followed by the Priests of all ranks, loyal camp Commanders, then two thousand family Samurai, fourteen thousand of the Southern Army, and finally thirty thousand of the Mexica legion!


    "This is also the order of loyalty," Xiulote maintained the solemnity of the Priesthood. Facing the Samurai below who were cutting their hair in allegiance, he silently weighed in his heart.


    The Great Nobility with the lowest loyalty were detained within the camp. At this time, they stood unarmed on the ramparts, wearing armor-less regal attire, silently watching the sacrifice of Ktoco and the allegiance of thirty thousand Samurai.


    These Great Nobles were former Commanders of the legions, once supporters of Tizoc, now being forced to remain neutral. Well-versed in the games of power and not devout towards religious theocracy, they disregarded the Priest¡¯s words. Now, stripped of their command over the army, replaced by Nobles loyal to the brother, they were even offered on the sacrificial altar. In this war, they were no more important than the common Samurai.


    Beside them stood fully-armed Samurai of the Avite Family. The Samurai had been ordered that if rebellion broke out in the Xilotepec main camp, they were to immediately execute the Great Nobles to prevent an escalation.


    "King Zhou was tyrannical, and King Wu fought against him!" Xiulote closely observed the expressions of the Samurai, feeling their fighting spirit, then nodded in satisfaction. Those who control the army must first control the heart, for occupying the moral high ground in people¡¯s hearts is often more important than the battle itself. The morale of the army determines its combat power and the course of the war!


    Similarly, those who attack the army must also attack the heart. The youth¡¯s thoughts flickered: "Today¡¯s strategy can also be used in reverse another time."


    No matter the era, solemn rituals always gather the scattered hearts of people, implanting the suggestion of obedience. With the allegiance of thirty thousand Samurai complete, the morale of the army distinctly improved. The Samurai, touching the weapons at their backs, no longer resisted the upcoming battle.


    "Samurai! It is not honorable to kill your brethren on the other side, but capturing the Samurai opposite counts as military merit. This battle is only to depose the king, to end the war, and for everyone to return to their hometowns!" Under the dazzling sunlight, Aweit finally consolidated the will of the people, with the magnanimous stance of a king.


    In this moment, the three armies were united, and ten thousand were subdued here! The majestic king waved the Divine Staff to the west, and thirty thousand Samurai immediately set off, carrying two weeks¡¯ worth of march provisions, like a surging, solemn torrent, heading to the nearest camp in the hills. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Only thirty thousand Militia were left to garrison in Xilotepec¡¯s main camp, along with a few hundred core Samurai. Relying on the strong fortifications, they were sufficient to fend off the Otomi people. Scouts and Intelligence Officers had already moved out ahead, sneaking into the distant forests, to communicate with allies agreed upon long before.


    After marching for three days, they came to the boundary between the forests and the plains. Xiulote saw again the sturdy camp between the mountains. The camp was built on the top of a hill, with open terrain and sparse forests, easy to defend. From afar, a wisp of smoke rose to the sky, and next to it flew the king¡¯s flag, also fluttering.

 Chapter 78 - 62: The Eagle and The Rabbit

    The encampment nestled high in the mountains had an unobstructed view of its surroundings. An army of more than ten thousand troops would have great difficulty concealing itself in the forest, not to mention launching a surprise attack from a long distance.


    Just past noon, the day was bright. From afar, the sight of the approaching army, with Mexica banners and even the King¡¯s regalia, prompted the encampment to swiftly dispatch an envoy. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The envoy from the encampment was just a thin, ordinary Samurai. He approached the massive army with confusion, saluted the King¡¯s regalia from a distance, and then respectfully asked an outermost Jaguar Warrior, "Esteemed military noble, we just welcomed a group of the King¡¯s Samurai this morning who said the main army would arrive in two days. How has the King arrived here just after noon?"


    However, the army did not halt; the Guards seized the envoy. Aweit, leading three thousand Samurai, Xiulote, commanding the Longbow Guards, and the King¡¯s regalia at the forefront¡ªthey all hastened towards the encampment.


    In just a moment, three thousand Samurai swiftly reached the gates of the encampment. The stationed Militia barely had time to react before the gates swung open. Immediately, a thousand-strong Jaguar Warrior Brigade poured in, swiftly taking control of the camp. Two thousand clan Samurai followed the majestic King straight to the commander¡¯s tent.


    Xiulote nodded his head; the Intelligence Officer had done well. Before setting out, Aweit, under the name of the main encampment of Xilotepec, had sent a group of Samurai into the camp, gaining control over some Militia. Inside the camp, there were merely a few hundred lower-ranked Samurai and eight thousand village Militia. Now, with coordination from inside and outside, there was no resistance whatsoever, and the encampment had changed hands without a struggle.


    The Jaguar Warriors flung open the commander¡¯s tent, and dozens of trusted aides rushed in. After a tumultuous interrogation and the clashing of weapons, silence fell quickly.


    Soon after, one trusted aide exited the tent and reported with a bowed head. Only then did Aweit, dressed in Royal Garb, step firmly into the tent with Xiulote.


    Upon entering the tent, Xiulote saw dishes overturned, corn cakes scattered about, and dozens of neatly-dressed but now captive lean Samurai being firmly held down by the trusted aides. Clearly, moments before, the Samurai in the tent had been in the midst of a meal. No wonder smoke was seen at noon; the Militia did not share that privilege.


    Hearing the noise at the entrance of the tent, the apprehended Samurai all looked up.


    Xiulote observed their somewhat gaunt faces, marks of hunger, and then his gaze settled on the leading Samurai. His face was grimy but strangely familiar.


    "Aweit?!" the disheveled leading Samurai exclaimed in astonishment, "How is it you?! What about the Tarascans? The Otomi? Have they let you go?"


    "Balda," Aweit said with a slight smile. His Royal Garb made his smile shine even more brightly, "Since you are here, Tizoc must be nearby, right? How many men does he have now?"


    It was then that Xiulote recalled that this was one of the three Commanders he had encountered in his first battle against the Otomi, a noble of the Eagle Warrior Battalion. He led the first wave of the assault force and was also the deputy to Commander Casal.


    Upon hearing this, Balda finally noticed Aweit¡¯s Royal Garb and the Divine Staff in his hand. His mouth opened wide, shock spreading over his face.


    "You...you...how can you be wearing the King¡¯s attire? How can you possibly be here in Royal Garb!"


    "Because I am now the new Tratuoani. Look, this is the regalia from the Capital¡¯s coronation ceremony," Aweit said with a smile, "Tizoc¡¯s war for coronation has failed; the Elder Priests have stripped him of his kingship! The Chief Priesthood and the High Priesthood now pledge their loyalty to me. And look at these," he gestured.


    At his signal, a trusted aide came forward with Totec¡¯s command banner, while Acap presented the High Priesthood¡¯s Feather Banner.


    "This is impossible!!" Balda¡¯s voice was hoarse with shock, his expression frozen. He looked back and forth between the two banners, mumbling in disbelief, "How could Totec betray the King?! The King promised him the honor of nobility. And how could the High Priest support you? Xiuxoke was loyally guarding the King all the way. Even when other City-States turned their backs, he did not leave!"


    "You can¡¯t do this! Although the King has been defeated, the Samurai have lost only a few thousand. As long as the King returns to the Capital, convinces the Priests and Elders, we can still reorganize and fight again! Yes, back to the Capital!" The barrage of shocking news left Balda dazed; he had temporarily lost the ability to discern.


    Aweit waved his hand, and the trusted aides escorted Balda and the others away. Xiulote instructed his followers to send them corn cakes and black bean rice. By the look on their faces, they seemed to have had a tough time with hunger on the road. The thought made the young man worry for his father and Teacher Olosh.


    "Xiulote," Aweit turned to the young man, his eyes shining, "Your strategy was quite good. Since Balda believed what was said, then most likely, the majority of Tizoc¡¯s Samurai will too. Utilizing the information asymmetry you mentioned, and fabricating narratives can indeed significantly sway the hearts of the people. We will give Tizoc a surprise!"


    The young man smiled faintly, feeling he should make himself a feather fan - it was the perfect time to wave it.


    "Balda¡¯s heart seems inclined to believe us. It appears that the failed siege and the army¡¯s lack of provisions have completely eroded Tizoc¡¯s prestige. With morale shattered and the City-States turning away, this is the weakest he¡¯s ever been!"


    Aweit nodded in approval, "Tizoc¡¯s main forces should be in the western mountains about two days¡¯ march away. I¡¯ve already sent the Intelligence Officer to contact Xiuxoke; we¡¯ll have detailed intelligence by tonight!"


    ```


    After taking control of the camp, Aweit carefully counted the camp¡¯s grain supplies. The main camp at Xilotepec City had stockpiled enough food for one hundred thousand people for a month, and the first mountainside camp had enough for thirty thousand people for a month. Xiulote then took out the camp¡¯s record wooden tablet and carefully examined the slash marks on the corn cakes.


    Aweit summoned the former commander of the camp, a tall and thin Samurai in his thirties or forties with a seasoned presence. The prince¡¯s face was stern as he earnestly inquired about the details of food transportation.


    "The camps to the west still have enough supplies for thirty thousand people for ten days. These past two weeks, the Otomi have been crazily guerrilla attacking, targeting the mountain camps and the grain transport teams. There are simply too few warriors in the camp, and we¡¯ve only managed to successfully transport supplies to the west once. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was just enough to keep the western camps going," the tall and thin Samurai said with a face full of shame, obviously still not fully grasping the situation.


    "Military supply shortages incur death by alliance rules. Please execute me! I am willing to plunge into the Abyss, just please do not cut off my son¡¯s path as a Samurai," said the tall and thin Samurai, prostrating himself on the ground, willing to seek death.


    "What¡¯s your name?" Seeing the posture of the tall and thin Samurai, along with his body clearly gaunt from hunger, Xiulote¡¯s heart was slightly touched. Indeed, an army quartermaster starved of food.


    "Priest Sir, my name is Begire," hearing such a simple name and surname, the youth was certain that he, like his Head Warrior, was of commoner origin.


    Aweit did not care about the Samurai¡¯s background. His face emotionless, he simply waved his hand lightly, ordering people to take Begire away and keep him under custody.


    "This is good news! Even if we disregard the lives of the militia, Tizoc¡¯s forces now have at most a little over a week¡¯s food supply. The army must be in a near-starvation state," Aweit said with a slight smile.


    "Yes, I¡¯ve checked the transport records, and the food storage in the three western camps is very limited." Saying this, the youth felt a little afraid, "We were just two days shy! If Tizoc got the food from here, he could regroup his forces, restore morale and spirit, and then it would be much more difficult to deal with him."


    Aweit laughed heartily, gently patting the youth¡¯s head: "Xiulote, do you remember what I said to you when I first arrived at the Lerma River?"


    "You said this position was particularly good," the youth recalled for a moment; that was before the conversation between the Divine Eagle and the Cactus.


    "Right, all the way along the water route, arriving here, we were just two days ahead of Tizoc, but we¡¯ve seized the most important initiative in war," Aweit reminisced a little emotionally.


    "The Eagle always needs the wind to fly fast enough to catch the racing hare!"


    "Now, we have finally grabbed the hare by the ears."


    Setting off from the Lerma River camp, landing after seven days, then taking the reinforcements in one day, occupying the main camp in two days, and reaching the mountainside camp in three days¡ªthirteen days in total, non-stop marching, restless nights. And now, the two of them had finally seized this fleeting opportunity!


    The journey was exhausting, but the hope was exhilarating. At this moment, a young King and a young Priest looked at each other¡¯s faces, which had both thinned. They had the same uplifted spirits and the determined eyes of an Eagle on their faces.


    The two exchanged glances, then burst into hearty laughter once more!


    By evening, a Scout finally came running from the west, bringing a verbal message from Commander Xiuxoke:


    "Under the leadership of a Commander named Jiowar, the warriors from Otapan fought desperately to attack Tizoc¡¯s great army, relentlessly pursuing the King. The King has split three thousand of his immediate forces to serve as the rear guard under Casal. Seven thousand of the Royal Banner¡¯s immediate forces remain, alongside one thousand Eagle Warriors and five hundred Tonsured Warriors, currently located at the third mountain camp.


    Tizoc, having suffered consecutive defeats, is out of control with rage, irritable, and has lost the hearts of people. Supreme Commander Totec remains loyally dedicated to maintaining the overall situation. This man is formidable, be very careful.


    The mountain trek is arduous, with a lack of grain and salt. Enemy guerrillas continue to attack, and warriors wander lost. Teotihuacan still has over three thousand warriors, closely following the outer perimeter of the Royal Banner. This journey is not easy; I am prepared.


    Tizoc clings tightly to the food supply, with ample provision for his immediate forces. Although morale is low, combat strength remains. The Eagle Warrior Battalion and the Tonsured Guard are especially fierce; they must be split up.


    The military groups from various City-States are full of complaints, having prematurely divided the second camp¡¯s food supplies. They have now scattered, days away. Please dispatch Envoys quickly, promise food supplies, stabilize the City-State armies, and do not affect the decisive battle."


    The key to this battle is not killing, but Tizoc himself!"


    ```

 Chapter 79 - 63: Father’s Love, King to King

    Both of them received the message and fell into deep thought.


    Xiulote clenched his fists. Through the message, he seemed to faintly see his father¡¯s resolute face and the struggles of the Teotihuacan legions.


    In his memory, his father was a truly strong samurai. He never spoke gentle words to him, even before he went to battle, his consolation was, "My son, you must be as strong as a samurai. As a samurai, you should calmly face death as if it were the way home!"


    His father just buried his tenderness deep in his heart. He would feel for the exhaustion of his son after capturing prisoners, wanting his son to rest; he would clasp his son¡¯s hand, reminding him to be cautious; he would kiss his forehead, embracing his son in his chest. Oh, and there was the time when he was just born, when his father lifted him high and let out a hearty laugh.


    Thinking of this, the young man also smiled warmly.


    Perhaps influenced by his grandmother of common birth, his father didn¡¯t have much ambition for power, just gradually pushed forward by his grandfather. He didn¡¯t have the cold-blooded nature of the great nobility, who treated commoners like trash and their children as pawns, using only strength to cover the fragile emotions of a commoner.


    This time, his father willingly risked his life, lurking beside the king, always ready to sacrifice himself with a single strike. It wasn¡¯t for himself, but for his son, Xiulote.


    The young man quietly closed his eyes. In the adult world, there is no love without reason. His grandfather loved him for his exceptional abilities and the greatness of the family; Aweit loved him for his talent and their shared ideals; Bertade loved him for the vow of protection and the hope of the common people. If he lost these, love would linger and be reluctant to leave, but would ultimately depart.


    In this world, only his father was the one who loved him unconditionally. From his own birth until his father¡¯s death. Xiulote would always trust his father and offer his own back to him.


    As for his future wife, the young man had no knowledge of that now. He was willing to give all his heart to one person, restrain all his desires for one person, only hoping for a lifelong love that mutually cherish...


    "We must change our plan," Aweit said after a moment of contemplation, wrapping his arm around the young man¡¯s shoulder. He roused the young man from his soft reverie back to the harsh reality.


    "An army of thirty thousand from various origins cannot completely seal off the news, and there will inevitably be those secretly alerting Tizoc. He will soon know of our presence and the rough size of our force."


    "Our original plan was to assemble thirty thousand samurai to control this key marching route and food camp, thus forcing Tizoc¡¯s food-strapped army to come here for a decisive battle. The terrain here is open, with sparse mountains and forests, and if Tizoc is defeated, it would be difficult for him to escape into the woods."


    "But now, Tizoc has abandoned the vast majority of the city-state legions and concentrated all the food supplies in his hands. With the Supreme Commander Totec¡¯s decisiveness, once he assesses our superior troop numbers and the layout of our camp, he will likely persuade Tizoc to circumvent."


    "Their food can barely sustain eight thousand troops directly under them back to the capital. If Totec is willing to lead the troops in a risky forced march, enduring the huge losses and recklessly into the unknown southern mountains, Tizoc has a good chance of escaping back to the Mexican Valley. It would be difficult for us to completely intercept them in terrain with limited visibility."


    "Tizoc is currently trapped in the mountains, short of food, limited in information, and ignorant of the capital city situation. His army can easily be influenced by our rhetoric, and the samurai loyalty is at its most vulnerable low. This is when he is at his weakest."


    "Once Tizoc returns to the Mexican Valley, even if he escapes alone, he could still regain the support of the Chief Priest Quetzal. Once he reestablishes contact with the great nobility, offers rewards and promises, and recalls the legions, restoring food supplies, our troubles will increase significantly!"


    "By then, the opposing priesthoods and nobilities would side with each faction, and the situation would evolve into a full-scale civil war between two royal family factions, and we would become the sinners of a divided alliance!"


    Xiulote nodded with a stern expression.


    The strength of King Tizoc wasn¡¯t just the troops in his hands. More importantly, behind him were the Chief Priesthood, parts of the Royal Family, and the great nobility supporting him. Once they have the righteous cause of the king, they can mobilize several more legions, tens of thousands of militia, and gather sufficient supplies.


    There are still many military forces doubtfully watching from the outside. In the forests outside Xilotepec, nearly twenty thousand city-state warriors remain, there are four groups of eight thousand each within the territory of Atotoztli belonging to the king¡¯s uncle Trole, and the Eleven States of the Alliance can be mobilized again. If these forces get involved, though the outcome remains uncertain, the destructive power of the civil war would surely rise exponentially.


    "So, what should we do? A light infantry raid?" Xiulote asked after a moment¡¯s thought.


    Aweit turned his back, pacing back and forth in thought, then made up his mind. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "An army of thirty thousand cannot gather here and wait! I will disperse twenty thousand samurai, with four thousand in each group, widely deploy scouts, layering checkpoints, and block the southern mountain paths and the fields of the East. Tizoc must not be allowed past!"


    "In the camp, only ten thousand elite samurai will be left behind, with three thousand hidden away, giving the enemy the illusion of a possible victory. Tizoc is currently unaware of the situation in the Capital City, nor does he know of Xiuxoke¡¯s identity. Given his prideful nature, if he has the upper hand, he won¡¯t flee but is likely to take a risk and fight."


    "Raise my banner, and use food and myself as bait to lure Tizoc here!"


    "If we haven¡¯t waited for Tizoc after three days, I will personally lead three thousand elite samurai in a light infantry surprise attack on his main camp! You take the remaining seven thousand men and quickly follow from behind."


    At this point, a cruel and steely expression finally returned to Aweit¡¯s face.


    "If this battle allows him to escape, we will march south immediately and seize the Capital City. No need to consider the long term, just offer up all the members of the Priesthood and the Great Nobility as a sacrifice to suppress all threats. Lake Capital City is an impregnable fortress; with it, we will be invincible."


    "My sons are still young and do not yet possess the bearing of a king. If I fall in battle, I entrust the Royal Family¡¯s ceremonial duties to you, and the Divine Staff to my eldest daughter."


    "You can tell the samurai that you were born on the day Montezuma died, under an auspicious omen, with Venus shining brightly. You are the reincarnation of the great former king and possess sacred royal authority! Stanley will lead the samurai of my family along with the nobility that support me, loyal to you and Alisa. Xiulote, take good care of her!"


    Aweit¡¯s expression was cold and stern. His gaze twinkled slightly as he extended a large hand, pausing for a moment at the young man¡¯s neck before moving to caress his cheek.


    Xiulote had no time to think, shock appearing on his face. This was the first time Aweit had spoken of his own death, clearly outlining the succession of the great undertaking. The transfer of Mexica royal power has always been accompanied by bloodshed and martial prowess.


    Moments later, the young man stepped forward instinctively, embracing his teacher and friend tightly. He felt love like that of a father, which moved him deeply, his voice choking with emotion.


    "It won¡¯t happen... Aweit, you won¡¯t die..."


    Embracing the young man, Aweit¡¯s gaze finally softened, revealing a sincere smile.


    The movements of the samurai were never delayed. The very next morning, the twenty thousand-strong army divided into five groups, quickly spreading to the East and South, controlling the mountains and plains within a week and blocking the passages to the heartland of the Mexica Alliance.


    The Otomi guerrilla units then shrank back, leaving the battlefield to the two enormous Mexica battle groups.


    Aweit¡¯s Supreme Commander¡¯s Royal Banner was flying high on the watchtower of the fourth mountainous camp, while Tizoc¡¯s Supreme Commander¡¯s Royal Banner struggled to stand at the peak of the third mountainous camp.


    Separated by just three days, the hearts of the warriors from both royal armies were filled with complex emotions. Rumors, like the wind, had started to spread within Tizoc¡¯s army about a new king being enthroned in the Capital, and the Chief Priesthood deposing the former king. No one knew who was secretly spreading these rumors.


    Tizoc¡¯s banner hesitated for two whole days. Xiulote was unaware of the chaos and disagreements that had unfolded, nor how many people¡¯s loyalties had changed. He only knew that two days later, Tizoc, with great effort, managed to rally nine thousand personal samurai, four thousand City-State Warriors, and ten thousand Militia, marching out in full force towards Aweit¡¯s camp.


    Inside the camp, the samurai were gathering their strength, waiting for the signal to fight. Another two days passed in the blink of an eye.


    On this day, Xiulote looked towards the distant sky. The noontide sun shone over the empty hills, and the autumn wind brought a solemn chill. The sunlight fell, reflecting off thousands of Mexica samurai and their gleaming War Clubs. The autumn breeze swept up wilting flowers and bent the fragile dry grass, heralding the end of lives.


    On this sunny day, Aweit led ten thousand samurai, quietly waiting in front of the camp. Inside the camp, eight thousand Militia stood guard.


    After a long while, the two Royal Banners finally appeared in the eyes of the Mexica warriors. Two vast armies, two sacred banners, two brothers of the same blood, crossed thousands of mountains and waters, their hearts filled with turmoil, now separated by only a few hundred meters.


    At this moment, they looked across at each other, their emotions turbulent, their intent to kill overwhelming.


    King against King! The royal authority of Mexica has always been passed down through bloodshed and martial prowess!

 Chapter 80 - 64 Shooting the King

    The sun was merciless, the autumn wind harsh and deadly. In the silence of heaven and earth lay the king¡¯s battlefield.


    Xiulote stood on the hillside, watching King Tizoc in the distance.


    The king wore a skull helmet and donned plain white war armor, still presenting the terrifying visage of an Evil Spirit Warrior. The helmet obscured his face, concealing the king¡¯s expression. He simply faced toward Aweit, staring intently at the opposing royal banner.


    Marching through the woods was always difficult, and Tizoc¡¯s palanquin had long been lost somewhere. Now, he bore the king¡¯s banner, its large canopy making him particularly conspicuous. From time to time, Tizoc¡¯s warriors glanced at his royal banner, as if it were the only source of their remaining morale.


    At Tizoc¡¯s side stood the tall and burly Supreme Commander Totec, his expression stern and unwavering. Like a rock, the Supreme Commander was the real pillar of the army, now carefully observing the formation of Aweit¡¯s warriors. His gaze swept over the other royal banner, yet he remained utterly unmoved.


    Totec was clad in double-layered leather armor, with a tonsured pattern on his face. He held a great shield over one meter high in his left hand and grasped an equally lengthy war club in his right, with a nearly two-meter-long, massive two-handed bronze axe slung on his back. His exceptionally sturdy body bore the weight of dozens of kilograms of equipment without compromising his agility.


    As Xiulote recalled the moment when Totec wielded the Macuahuitl with both hands and shattered the stone platform, he couldn¡¯t help but admire inwardly, "This is a man who truly surpasses the Jaguar, a peerless fierce general without equal in the world!"


    By the side of the tonsured Supreme Commander stood five hundred Tonsured Guard Warriors, sporting similar patterns on their faces. These loyal protectors of the king possessed the strongest individual combat capabilities, many clad in double armor, wielding armor-piercing bronze axes.


    They wore indifferent expressions, silent and calm, having undergone brutal training for years and maintaining rigorous discipline. The Tonsured Guard often deliberately recruited from among common warriors, even including many from other ethnic groups. As long as the royal banner did not fall, their loyalty would never waver.


    Behind the Imperial Guard Warriors were a thousand Nobility Battle Groups of eagle warriors, skilled in forming shielded infantry formations. Most of these first-level nobility warriors came from lesser noble families, and upon seeing the opposing royal banner, they were visibly restless. A stern glance from Totec was enough to make them all bow their heads in respect and fall silent.


    Further out were seven thousand warriors directly under the Royal Legion. Warriors of various ranks wore differently colored leather armor. Their faces bore the marks of hardship, their bodies showed the gauntness of hunger, and they wore the exhaustion of marching through the woods. Unlike the eagle warrior Battle Group, they dared not make noise, their expressions complex as they looked at the opposing royal banner and army corps.


    Quite a few warriors bowed their heads, their morale obviously low. They had been besieging Otapan City for years, suffering through the rainy season. After a failed retreat, they were pursued and harassed by the Otomi people, enduring the hardships of rain and dew in the woods and a lack of food. With homecoming in sight, they now found themselves facing an army corps of their own people... Many couldn¡¯t help but think of recent rumors.


    To the right flank of the direct warriors were four thousand City-State Warriors. Most of them came from the army corps of the Holy City of Teotihuacan. These City-State Warriors looked pale and dusty, ostracized on the outskirts of the direct warriors, evidently distrusted. They were positioned on the southern side of the formation, inadvertently blocking the southern passage.


    Xiulote stood on tiptoe to get a better view, his gaze passing over many familiar figures, until he finally saw his father. Xiuxoke, donning a Beast Helmet and bearing the battle flag, appeared lean and tall. He was gathering with two hundred Jaguar Warrior Brigade members, conveniently forming a strike squadron. At that moment, his father was also silently gazing at Aweit¡¯s royal banner, the place where his son was.


    Further back were ten thousand Militia who had been conscripted. The Militia were positioned far away, carrying various supplies and baggage. Armed only with rudimentary stone weapons, they gathered in groups under the management of village bailiffs, noisy and disorderly.


    If this were a siege, the Militia could be used for laborious tasks such as fort construction and trench filling, but in the current large-scale battle formations of the warriors, the commanders had collectively forgotten about the Militia. After all, these troops, armed only with Stone Spears, posed no threat to the warriors and would only take up valuable space in battle.


    Looking at the undermanned and undersupplied army corps of Tizoc, the young man couldn¡¯t help but remember his first meeting with the king back in Teotihuacan.


    At that time, the Mexica great army comprised no less than twenty corps, with more than seventy thousand warriors. They were as vast as the Long River, as imposing as mountains, their presence majestic between heaven and earth, their might overshadowing the wilderness.


    But now, everything seemed to vanish like rain swept by the wind.


    "A man should be like this," the youth thought, feeling his lips grow dry as the decisive moment approached, always wanting to say something, "Ptuh, ptuh, no good. It should be, ¡¯He who can be conquered should be succeeded.¡¯"


    "No, that¡¯s not right either. It¡¯s better to say, ¡¯He who is favored by the heavens receives more aid, while he who has lost their way receives less...¡¯"


    "Yes, that¡¯s it! The sentiment of King Wu¡¯s campaign against Shang is better! ¡¯He who inherits martial spirit subdues Yin and curbs Liu, thus securing his achievement...¡¯"


    As the youth¡¯s thoughts wandered, he suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw the solemn and dignified Aweit, also dressed in a blood-red battle robe, bearing the royal banner, clad in armor, holding a sharp weapon, and carrying the Ruby Scepter.


    "Xiulote, don¡¯t be nervous." Aweit could even afford a slight smile, "At the crucial moment, all you need is to be brave, as you once told me."


    "Look at the distance to the opposing royal banner. Can the Longbow reach that far?"


    Xiulote stretched out his hand to measure the distance. He closed his left eye, opened his right, then extended his right arm straight, raising his right thumb. He then aligned the left side of his thumb with the target royal banner, alternating between opening and closing each eye. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 81 - 64 Shooting the King_2

    "The distance now is three to four hundred paces, too far for longbows to reach," the young man calculated silently for a moment and then answered seriously. Following that, he assessed the landmarks ahead.


    "If I could lure Tizoc near that large rock ahead, it would be within one hundred fifty paces, right in the range for a longbow¡¯s trajectory!" the young man declared confidently.


    "Good!" Aweit nodded, "Next, I will invite Tizoc for a meeting, try to get him as close as possible. He should not yet be aware of the longbow¡¯s range. You lead the Longbow Guards forward slowly, further reducing the distance between us."


    "As soon as I wave the Divine Staff with my right hand, the Longbow Guards will concentrate their fire on him! Giving him an honorable Samurai¡¯s death!"


    The young man nodded vigorously, slightly excited. If they could eliminate the king in one fell swoop, the battle would be easily won. The opposing army would surrender without a fight!


    Xiulote immediately summoned Bertade and one hundred fifty of the Longbow Guards. He gave detailed instructions, and the Longbow Warriors took out their powerful longbows and fitted them with armor-piercing copper arrows, readying themselves at all times. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The great new Great Tlatoani, ruler of the lake city of Tenochtitlan, bearer of Montezuma¡¯s Divine Staff, the glorious Aweit, will meet with his brother of the same bloodline, the deposed former king, failed Alliance commander, and inept Tizoc!"


    Dozens of War Priests advanced to the front line, holding high the banner of Totec, adorned with the decorations of the High Priesthood. Their organized shouts reached the ears of most warriors, causing a stir among those in the front ranks.


    As they shouted, the Royal Banner on the opposite side responded. Tizoc almost instantly moved forward, fury burning intensely in his chest, nearly transforming him into the flames of the Sun God.


    Totec slightly furrowed his brow, the stern Supreme Commander¡¯s face always as solid as rock. He quickly stepped forward twice, shielding the king beside him, then stretched out his strong arm, half supporting, half restraining.


    "King, they are intentionally provoking you, do not fall for it!"


    Tizoc again tried to move forward for two steps, probably unable to drag the imposing Supreme Commander, before he finally calmed down.


    "Forward! I wish to confront this traitor! Totec, can I trust in your valor?"


    "To die for you!" Totec clenched his fist with one hand, placing it on his chest.


    "I¡¯m worried about the situation in the Royal City, the army¡¯s morale concerns me. We must kill this traitor in this battle! Be ready, I will get close to him."


    "As soon as I wave the Divine Staff, you lead the Imperial Guards to charge and split my dear brother in half!"


    "To die for you!" Totec responded without hesitation, bowing to accept the command.


    Then, on Totec¡¯s orders, five hundred Tonsured Guards raised their shields and surged forward. They tightly protected Tizoc, surrounding the king¡¯s Great Banner as they advanced.


    Aweit, flanked by hundreds of elite family warriors, moved forward bearing the Royal Banner. Beside him, the bear-strong Stanley also held up a Great Shield for protection.


    Behind him, Xiulote, clad in war armor and wearing a masked helmet, remained inconspicuous. He temporarily did not want Tizoc to notice him, to avoid jeopardizing his father. Bertade led the Longbow Guards at the rear, with the warriors¡¯ longbows carefully hidden behind their robes and shields.


    Xiulote had a slight stirring in his heart; both kings had not brought the Jaguar or Eagle Warrior Battalions.


    It seemed that, in the royal civil war, as pivotal military nobilities of the Alliance, the loyalty of the Jaguar and Eagle Warrior Battalions was greatly wavering and not fully trusted by the kings. This was similar to Mongolia¡¯s Qeshi army, which was also suspiciously looked upon by both Great Khans during the Mongolian civil war between Kublai Khan and Ariq B?ke.


    "Therefore," the young man pondered slightly, "if I can isolate the opposing Eagle Warrior Battalion from Tizoc, without direct military orders, the Eagle nobility might slack off and will likely not fight to death."


    Thinking this, Xiulote instinctively looked towards his father¡¯s direction, then at the over three thousand Holy City warriors there. Then, he remembered his father¡¯s message and nodded slightly.


    The Royal Banners slowly drew closer. Aweit, holding the Divine Staff of conqueror Montezuma, calmly looked at Tizoc across from him.


    Tizoc was also holding the Divine Staff. This Ancient Relic, granted to him when he ascended the throne at the Great Temple by the Chief Priest, represented the ultimate divine authority of the Mexica ancestors and their ancient traditions.


    In his time, predecessor Monarch Montezuma had crafted another Divine Staff to circumvent the interference of the High Priesthood and to enhance the influence of the monarchy. He revered the ancient Holy City, meddled in the High Priesthood elections, supported a High Priest from the Royal Family, and elevated the High Priesthood to a status equal to that of the Chief Priesthood.


    Throughout his life, predecessor Monarch Montezuma finally split the supreme divine authority in half, dividing it between two different centers of divine power, each keeping the other in check.


    These two Divine Staffs, one representing reform and monarchy, the other representing conservatism and divine power, were now raised high by the two kings, determined to settle their scores!


    Separated by over a hundred steps, both sides finally stood firm, with warriors gripping clubs and shields, ready for battle.


    "Aweit! You treacherous serpent!"


    Having just taken position, upon seeing Aweit¡¯s royal attire and Divine Staff, Tizoc could no longer contain the rage in his heart. He bellowed furiously.


    "I should have cast you into the abyss long ago, let you struggle and wail in the underground Sacrificial Lake, be torn to shreds by crocodiles! I should not have hesitated, should not have ignored the Chief Priest¡¯s advice, giving you, this serpent, a chance!..."


    Tizoc completely lost control of his emotions, merely cursing in rage.


    Xiulote shook his head; the once majestic and fearsome lion had turned into a powerless, raging mole, roaring ineffectually.


    "Tizoc, you have failed! Quetzal has already betrayed you! The High Priests and Elders have already declared your deposition; I have already been enthroned in the Capital City! Give up! Out of respect for you as my brother, I will only imprison you and let you live out your life in peace!"


    Aweit watched Tizoc with a smile. He was unconcerned by the curses, even finding Tizoc¡¯s behavior extraordinarily satisfying. He laughed loudly, urging his brother to surrender.


    "Lies, all lies! I have already made contact with Quetzal, the capital still firmly in our grasp. You are merely a buzzing mosquito! Reinforcements are already on their way, food is being delivered; all it takes is to crush you, this mosquito, and we shall claim victory in the Otomi war!


    You warriors on the opposite side! If you turn away from the dark and repledge your loyalty to your King, I, King Tizoc, swear to the Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, I will forgive your transgressions and punish no one!"


    The young man first nodded, then shook his head.


    Regardless of his military acumen, Tizoc was after all a proper King, stabilizing army morale, promising the future, and winning over warriors were all basic strategies. However, clearly, the Otomi war had become an obsession for the King. Even at this moment, Tizoc was unwilling to end the war; his plea would thus be futile.


    "Crossing a baseline turns it into a weakness, and weakness brings death." Xiulote murmured softly to himself.


    Disappointed, Tizoc looked across as the warriors under the King¡¯s gaze slightly bowed their heads, but made no significant movement.


    "Tizoc has been deposed! His sins belong to him alone! Surrender now, warriors on the opposite side! Let¡¯s end this war and go home together!"


    Aweit shifted his focus, shouting across to the warriors. At the mention of "going home," the loyal Tonsured Guard remained unmoved, but the wavering regular warriors started to stir.


    Feeling the situation turning against him, Tizoc thrust his Divine Staff forward, straightforwardly flipping the table: "Die, you serpent full of lies!"


    Seeing the signal, Totec immediately let out a thunderous roar. Holding a massive Two-handed Battle Axe like a beast from the wilderness, he charged unstoppable towards Aweit¡¯s Royal Banner with hundreds of Tonsured Warriors, leaving nearly a hundred to guard the King.


    Facing the charging Guard, Aweit hesitated not a moment. He wielded his Divine Staff forcefully, and a hundred and fifty longbows were drawn instantly, emitting a humming buzz. Then, amidst a massive rumble, hundreds of Armor-Piercing Copper Arrows, like lightning splitting the sky, shot towards the opposing royal flag!

 Chapter 82 - 65 Unrivaled!

    Beneath the vast sky were two royal banners with identical designs. At this moment, two kings stood beneath them, merely a hundred meters apart.


    Xiulote stared unblinkingly, his focus fixed on Tizoc not far away.


    The initial speed of the longbow exceeded 60 meters per second; in but a single breath, hundreds of feathered arrows shot forth. Carrying a sharpness that pierced everything, they flew through the gaps in the shields, penetrated the sturdy leather armor, and sank deep into the soft flesh. Then, the arrowheads emerged from the bodies and pierced into another form, blood suddenly gushing forth!


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes widened. He saw that the moment the sound of bows being drawn rang out, a Tonsured Guard did not hesitate to throw his body forward, knocking down Tizoc as the king¡¯s banner snapped in half. Then, the surrounding Imperial Guards also did not hesitate to pounce inward. They had no time to lift their wooden shields; instead, they used their own backs as shields, layering into two walls of flesh, tightly protecting the king.


    The feathered arrows almost arrived at the same time. The powerful longbows pierced through human bodies; more than ten outer guards were struck dead in that instant. The trans-body longbows continued forward, pinning the inner guards together, immobilizing them.


    By then, the outer Tonsured Guards rushed over. They force tore away through the dead guards and longbows, pulling the king out from the human shield. The king¡¯s skull helmet had fallen during the pounce, and the young man saw Tizoc¡¯s disheveled hair and his face unsettled with shock.


    "Ah!" the young man sighed with regret, "Truly, it¡¯s the loyalty of the Tonsured Guards!"


    The guards quickly erected two thick layers of wooden shields, completely blocking the directions of incoming arrows, and the young man could no longer see Tizoc¡¯s expression.


    Suddenly, the king¡¯s banner was raised again, and under the cover of the guards¡¯ shields, it was quickly pulled back. The second round of shooting followed immediately, longbows piercing the front-row guards¡¯ shields, leaving behind nearly ten corpses. Seconds later, the last volley of shots hit the retreating shields, ineffective.


    Xiulote felt somewhat regretful, yet a deep, unearthly roar sounded near his ear. He shivered all over, his gaze turning, only to see Totec charging fiercely, a daunting figure rapid closing in.


    The cold Supreme Commander had just heard the thuds of bowstrings during the charge and instantly judged the power of the longbows. He pivoted his body, and before he could return to help, his sight caught Tizoc being knocked down by the Imperial Guards, arrows entering bodies. Then, within seconds, Tizoc was dragged out, showing a pale, colorless face.


    Totec became resolute, a moment of thought confirming the crux of this battle. He immediately let out a furious roar and charged violently toward Aweit. The Samurai¡¯s charge is about 8 meters per second, and in barely four to five breaths, Totec and the four hundred Imperial Guards reached Aweit.


    Aweit¡¯s family Samurai did not hesitate to ready their shields to meet the charge. A Samurai protected his upper body with his shield, and the copper spear in his right hand ruthlessly targeted Totec. As the most loyal force, the family Samurai also possessed the best weapons and leather armor.


    Totec merely dodged slightly, nimbly avoiding the sharp copper spear. Then he advanced a step and accurately kicked at the bending leg of the Samurai directly to his left side. The immense force immediately made the opposing Samurai lose his balance. The Samurai¡¯s body tipped forward, his shield skewed, exposing his neck. A massive bronze axe followed closely, its sharp blade cutting precisely and immediately bifurcated his head, with bright red blood splashing like a waterfall. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Totec did not pause, chopping forward like a whirlwind. His steps shifted, dodging the Samurai¡¯s side attacks¡ªthis was the agility of a tiger; his precise striking broke through the Samurai¡¯s front defenses¡ªthis was the swiftness of a leopard; his enormous force cleaved the Samurai in two¡ªthis was the strength of a bear. Among the battle arrays, there were no complicated maneuvers, only practiced chops, exquisitely timed dodges, and supremely accurate judgments.


    Where the great axe went, armies parted easily. Totec slashed through a dozen elite Samurai, his bravery unmatched in all the land!


    In just a moment, he had already advanced within ten steps of Aweit, threatening the King¡¯s life.


    Xiulote was dazzled by the spectacle.


    "Truly an unmatched general!" the young man murmured, "Within ten steps, a man is slain, leaving no trace even across a thousand miles."


    Having undergone more than three years of Samurai training, he had a clear understanding of the skill levels of Samurai. The Totec he watched stood at the pinnacle of Samurai; placed in Europe, he would be called a "Champion Swordsman", in the Celestial Empire, a "Match for Ten Thousand", in Japan, an unparalleled "Sword Saint"!


    As a "Sword Saint", Totec possessed not only terrifying strength and speed but also absolute control over the battlefield. His grasp of distance was extremely precise, his control over his body was flawless, and his understanding of his enemy¡¯s reactions was as if he held them in the palm of his hand.


    This was not something that could be achieved through mere training. A "Sword Saint" must be extraordinarily talented and have gone through countless life-and-death trials to reach this human limit.


    Xiulote thought quickly; for such a "Sword Saint", the best method would be concentrated long-range firing. When ranged density reaches a certain level, human reaction can no longer avoid it. Muskets, longbows, powerful crossbows¡ªhundreds of them firing together, even a hero would inevitably fall.


    The young man immediately told the Longbow Guards to retreat, pulling back to shooting distance, searching for the right angle.


    Xiulote continued to survey the battlefield; with long-range support unavailable for now, he could only use another method.


    He would direct the Great Shield Formations of Samurai from all directions to close in tightly, reducing the "Sword Saint¡¯s" space to maneuver. By limiting his range of movement, the Samurai could overwhelm with numbers, swiftly depleting the "Sword Saint¡¯s" stamina. Once the close-combat attacks became dense enough, it would also spell doom.

 Chapter 83 - 65: Unparalleled!_2

    He immediately signaled, and the following Samurai raised their shields for support; Aweit¡¯s family warriors also formed a dense formation. However, at this time, the Tonsured Guards had already charged up. They launched a savage assault as well, brandishing Bronze Axes and War Clubs, tearing a gap in the shield wall and containing the enemy forces ahead.


    Totec took advantage of the situation to slay several men and charged into the shield formation, advancing within five steps of Aweit; the Royal Banner was within reach.


    Everything happened in just a few breaths. Faced with Totec¡¯s imposing force, Aweit began to retreat subconsciously. Although he was also an excellent Samurai, skilled enough in Martial Arts to match several men, he was clearly far from being able to face such an unrivalled mighty warrior.


    Beside him, the huge bear-like warrior Stanley also let out an angry roar. He did not hesitate to lift his shield to meet the enemy, sweeping his War Club horizontally.


    After a brief exchange, Totec judged that the strength of the warrior opposite was not inferior to his own. He immediately adjusted his strategy, with a slight sidestep, he moved half a step forward to the left, narrowly dodging the War Club. Then, he swung his heavy Battle Axe, dexterously avoiding the face of the Great Shield, and from the right side where Stanley held the club, he suddenly chopped down, bringing a force that ripped through the air.


    Once it came to reactions, Stanley was clearly unable to keep up with Totec¡¯s agility. He could only barely turn to the side, using his shield in his left hand to protect his chest. With a loud bang, the Wooden Shield was struck leaving a deep gash, and Stanley was jolted backward, his footing losing stability. With pounding strikes like thunder crashing down, Stanley could only defend desperately with his Great Shield, unable to launch another attack. He gradually lost his balance, staggering to the side and opening the path to the Royal Banner.


    Xiulote felt an ominous sensation. Within ten steps, they were surrounded by enemies, and Aweit¡¯s life hung by a thread.


    To face the "Sword Saint," the last resort was for several Great Generals to cooperate. Such cooperation required extremely high experience and skill, and the generals also faced imminent risk of death. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The youth looked urgently at the Head Warrior beside him, "Bertade, let¡¯s go, to support Aweit!"


    Bertade showed an unusual hint of hesitation. He looked at Aweit who was in critical danger just tens of meters away, then at the tall Royal Banner, before saying in a low voice, "King, we can win this battle! You should be the King..."


    But the youth did not hear this deeply meaningful statement. He had already dashed forward, rushing towards Aweit under the Royal Banner.


    Bertade sighed softly and shook his head slightly. He too sprinted fiercely, following close behind.


    Seeing Aweit now within easy reach, Totec no longer entangled with Stanley.


    He slightly twisted the Battle Axe, and with a fierce slap of the vast axe face, the Great Shield in front trembled with a ringing vibration, Stanley once again succumbed to an imbalance of his center of gravity. Immediately afterward, Totec took two more steps forward, with a horizontal slash, he cut across the last blocking warrior¡¯s chest, blood sprayed instantly, staining his face as well as Aweit¡¯s behind him.


    Now, before Totec, the unrivalled warrior, stood only the King¡¯s brother, holding a decorative shield and the Divine Staff. Red droplets fell from Totec¡¯s stern face, and finally, he broke into a bloodied smile.


    Life and death were in a moment; Aweit¡¯s mind went blank. Past memories flashed by like lightning: born into the most prestigious Royal Family of the Alliance, a carefree childhood doted on by the Queen mother, the dashing youth cultivated by his eldest brother the King, the talented young man esteemed by the nobility of the Capital, the suggestion of kingship inherited from his grandfather¡¯s Divine Staff¡ªit was twenty years of a bright and clear path!


    Then came leading the army, the bloody and ultimate defeat at Tarasco; returning to the Capital City, the dissatisfaction of the grievously damaged nobility; the grief and reluctance when his elder brother died and his next brother ascended; the subtle threats of the new King¡¯s suspicion and the Priest¡¯s ostracism; the stripping of his authority, the humble forbearance in the darkness¡ªit was the deepest valley of his life.


    At last, there was a fateful encounter, an interesting youth, a sincere affection. The youth dispelled the solitude of his nocturnal wanderings, dissolved his deeply buried resentment, and brought him a chance of dawn¡¯s light. Seizing this opportunity, he no longer hesitated, soaring upon the wind in one bound, determined to make the eagle¡¯s final strike!


    And now, as Totec¡¯s raised Battle Axe was poised to strike without hesitation, multiple faces flickered across his mind: mother, eldest brother, next brother, wife, youth... In the end, the image settled on a bright-eyed, clever girl, the tenderest haven in his cold heart.


    "Alisa..." Aweit did not retreat any further. Instead, he calmly looked south, gently bidding farewell.


    "Whoosh!" The Battle Axe cleaved through the air, the draft unraveling the hair bun, yet it struck empty air.


    The youth finally arrived in time; he grabbed the large banner behind his teacher and forcefully pulled it backward.


    Aweit stumbled back, his helmet grazed by the axe¡¯s edge, leaving behind a crack, then fell off during the motion, the noble¡¯s long hair suddenly cascading down.


    "Aweit, don¡¯t be foolish, run! Run!" Xiulote forcefully dragged Aweit, retreating towards the rear formation of warriors. Thankfully, the youth, having trained for years, already possessed the physique of a Samurai and was able to run while dragging someone along.


    Bertade covered the retreat of the two. He lifted his shield, barely blocking the raging charge of Totec.


    As the tide of victory seemed to slip away before his eyes, Totec, like a furious giant, unleashed boundless ferocity. He wildly swung his Battle Axe, casually slaying the warriors attacking from both sides, then, like a tidal wave, he continuously struck towards Bertade.


    As a seasoned Warrior with thirty years of Martial Arts experience, Bertade¡¯s combat savvy was far superior to that of Stanley¡¯s. He did not possess Stanley¡¯s immense strength, nor did he directly block Totec¡¯s assaults. He simply moved nimbly, keeping pace with Totec¡¯s rhythm of attack, doing his best to avoid the direct path of the Battle Axe.

 Chapter 84 - 65: Unrivaled!_3

    The Head Warrior¡¯s footsteps darted; he twisted his body to the side, his left hand holding the shield at an angle to fend off the Battle Axe, while his right hand swung the War Club, deflecting the trajectory of the Battle Axe as well. This kind of defense was like dancing on the edge of life and death, requiring extremely agile movement and exceptionally skilled Martial Arts. If he were not the most seasoned warrior, it would be impossible to continuously seize the right moments.


    Under Totec¡¯s relentless assault, Bertade was forced to take small steps back. He dodged the greatest force of the Battle Axe, yet always entangled, blocking Totec¡¯s path of pursuit. The Head Warrior struggled to hold on for a few breaths until Stanley finally snapped out of it. He roared, lifting the Great Shield once again and pounced towards Totec. The shield smacked and blocked, helping Bertade share the burden. Together, they finally stood their ground, stabilizing their defense to jointly hold off Totec¡¯s charge.


    From the Longbow¡¯s rapid firing, the sudden assault, to the Kings¡¯ retreat, and the War Generals¡¯ clash, all these events hadn¡¯t even lasted a quarter hour, and both sides¡¯ guards had already suffered dozens of casualties.


    The same drum beat simultaneously erupted, startling birds in the forest and shaking the clouds in the sky. As if in a concerted symphony, the silent Samurai began to move forward on the drums¡¯ command.


    Seeing the sudden change in the center of the battlefield, the City-State army of Teotihuacan that was prepared early reacted first. They launched their attack at the first opportunity!


    "Depose the King, return to our homeland!" With a unified shout, Xiuxoke led Olosh into the charge. Two hundred Jaguar warriors decisively assaulted towards the Royal Banner of Tizoc as it began to retreat. The remaining three thousand Battle Group moved rapidly northward, wedging into the gap between a thousand Eagle Warrior Battalion and the Royal Banner, first separating them.


    Seeing Tizoc¡¯s Royal Banner briefly fall then rise again, the Eagle Nobility warriors were in turmoil, guessing the King¡¯s fate. Then, the sudden betrayal by Teotihuacan¡¯s army completely cut off their connection with the King, and the Nobility warriors¡¯ morale wavered, their actions hesitant.


    Next, a thousand Jaguar Nobility warriors also charged with a tiger¡¯s roar, engaging the Eagle Warrior Battalion directly. These Nobility Samurai were always swift and adept at quick assaults, but now, they changed their usual demeanor. The Jaguar warriors formed shielded Formations, let out earth-shaking battle cries, yet only skirmished sporadically with the opposition.


    Both sides¡¯ Nobility warriors, coming from the Royal Capital City, were mostly familiar with each other, many related by blood or marriage. Without the King¡¯s strong command, they wouldn¡¯t actively fight to the death.


    The seventeen thousand warriors directly under the Royal Family also fought each other. They gazed at the familiar faces, watched the center of the battlefield where the situation was dramatically changing, just like the dramatically changing hearts of people! The warriors looked at one another, ignoring the distant urging of the Battle Group Commanders. They slowed their actions, reaching some unspoken consensus. Though they seemed to be fighting, it was more like a standoff.


    On both sides, the warriors simply swung their shields at each other, tightly defending while shouting unintelligible cries. It seemed as if by mutual understanding, they all distracted themselves, looking towards the two Royal Banners, observing the unfolding situation.


    The real fighting was only occurring around the vicinity of the Royal Banners, yet it was intense beyond imagination. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Totec heard the cries and glanced quickly backwards, only to see Xiuxoke leading the City-State army, charging towards where the Royal Banner was located. His heart sank, and looking ahead again, he saw Xiulote dragging Aweit, who had already escaped twenty meters away; further back, the retreating Longbow Warriors had begun to stop their steps, reorganizing their formations, lifting their Longbows once more.


    Victory was swiftly slipping through his fingers, the King about to face grave danger! Totec steeled himself and let out an inhuman roar. He charged forward in two quick steps, getting up close to Bertade, but instead of defending himself, he hurled the huge axe sideways with force.


    "King, duck down!" Bertade had no time to attack Totec and, turning his head in urgency, he bellowed.


    The Battle Axe whirled through the air. On hearing the shout, Xiulote turned, shuddering in fright. He violently pulled Aweit, causing both of them to fall onto the ground. The howling Battle Axe flew over their heads, and with a swish, it chopped off Aweit¡¯s Commander¡¯s flag, then with a thud, stuck deep into the soil in front of the youth, the axe handle within reach.


    Xiulote subconsciously touched his own head. Luckily, it was still there, and he wasn¡¯t bald.


    Then he looked towards Aweit, who was also visibly shaken, compulsively touching his disheveled hair. It was the first time the young man saw undisguised fear and relief on his teacher¡¯s face.


    Xiulote once again observed Totec¡¯s formidable figure, but saw that he had turned around, nimbly dodged Stanley¡¯s war club, withstood Bertade¡¯s side attack with his double-layered leather armor, then surged forward again, charging towards Tizoc¡¯s royal banner without hesitation.


    The Tonsured Guards also split in two, half following Totec to the rescue, while the other half continued to fight to the death. Bolts from the longbow followed immediately, killing dozens of Imperial Guard Warriors, but Totec was already too far away.


    The family warriors surrounding them once again rushed over, forming layers of protection around the two and raising the royal banner from the ground once more.


    Finally, the boy let out a sigh of relief and calmed down. He removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his head with the leather armor on his arm; the sprinting escape just now was utterly exhausting, completely reaching the peak of his life¡¯s 50-meter dash.


    When he became a little more composed, Xiulote reached out, trying to pull the great axe that was fully embedded in the ground, but he couldn¡¯t pull it out at that moment.


    The boy then looked toward that retreating burly figure, the bright red blood-stained war armor; his heart, which had just settled, was once again stirred. He couldn¡¯t help but exclaim loudly in admiration.


    "Truly a Great General without equal!"


    "Without equal? Does it mean there¡¯s no one that can match?" Aweit also quickly recovered, his face returning to its usual calm. He put on the King¡¯s authority, hiding the fluctuation of his emotions, scrutinizing the intense battlefield as well as the unfathomable human heart.


    "Yes, I always knew Totec was formidable, but I never imagined to this extent! Blood stained on the armor shines red; throughout history, charging into formation to save a dire king. How could Tizoc have such an unrivaled Great General!"


    In the young man¡¯s heart, there was nothing but admiration.


    Aweit reflected quietly. The fact that Xiulote could save him amidst Totec¡¯s rapid assault meant that the youth didn¡¯t hesitate at all once he saw the situation was critical. He then remembered that before the decisive battle, he had already announced to the generals that should he perish, his student would inherit the throne.


    The King remained silent, his face tranquil like a still lake, quietly watching the battlefield, yet complex emotions swirled in his heart.


    "After this battle, you too are my Great General without equal!"

 Chapter 85 - 66: Fleeing South

    The midday sun still shone, but now it carried the light of a narrow escape from death. Beneath the sun, the fierce battle raged on between the personal guard and the eagerly observing warriors from both sides.


    Xiulote admired Totec¡¯s retreating figure. Following that direction, he saw the nearby Tizoc Royal Banner with envy. Further ahead, a charging squad of Jaguar warriors caught his attention, led by two familiar figures fearlessly assaulting under the royal banner.


    "This is bad, very bad!" Seeing his father and Olosh, Xiulote swiftly realized the situation. He suddenly leaped up, seizing Aweit¡¯s arm.


    "Quick, Aweit, we must charge towards Tizoc. My father and the others can¡¯t hold back Totec alone!"


    "Yes! The moment has come, we cannot let Tizoc slip away!"


    Aweit once again swung the Divine Staff, and the royal banner moved forward. Beside him, hundreds of family warriors with Great Shields and Copper Spears immediately advanced. Under Stanley¡¯s command, they bypassed the fiercely resisting hundred Imperial Guards and charged directly towards Tizoc¡¯s royal banner.


    Xiulote also rallied the Longbow Guards, and together with Bertade, they too sprinted forward once more.


    Totec, striding meteorically, had already reached under the Tizoc royal banner. Moments before, he had hurled his massive axe, but sadly fell short of success, for Aweit was saved by a short warrior whose face was unclear. Now, he had armed himself with a spare shield and war club, ready to fight for the king¡¯s protection!


    He quickly surveyed the situation. The betrayal of the Teotihuacan Battalion was a direct and critical blow; the balance of power had suddenly shifted, putting the Royal Army at a distinct disadvantage. Even more crucially, the connection between the royal banner and the direct battalion had been severed. Without the commander¡¯s control, the loyalty of the Eagle Nobility and their warriors was now in doubt!


    Totec hesitated no longer. He let out another deep, thunderous roar to bolster both his and the Guard¡¯s spirit, then charged directly towards the approaching Jaguar Warrior squad.


    Hearing the roar, Xiulote shivered momentarily, as he still harbored a psychological shadow from Totec¡¯s previous battle cries. The young man looked ahead only to see Totec holding his shield with his left hand and swinging the war club with his right.


    The tip of the club was as fast as lightning, striking a Jaguar warrior at a vital point, the force piercing through the body, tipping the warrior sideways to the ground, dead from the blow; the resonance of the club, like crashing thunder, continued pummeling on the Jaguars, shattering their bones, causing them to tremble and fall, soon writhing in agony. In just moments, nearly a dozen Jaguar warriors had fallen.


    Dressed in Double Armor and wearing a Beast Helmet, Xiuxoke stood shoulder to shoulder with Olosh, also adorned as a Jaguar warrior, both bravely advancing. Totec swung his club horizontally, but Olosh skillfully blocked it, while Xiuxoke struck powerfully from behind.


    Totec furrowed his brow and stepped back quickly. He moved nimbly, his left hand dancing with the shield to block their attacks, his right hand gripping the club, ready to strike. Warriors in fast motion and strong attacks often reveal flaws, and Totec¡¯s eyes, sharp as a hawk¡¯s, watched their every move.


    Xiuxoke, clearly agitated, delivered a forceful club strike, exhausting his strength but missed as Totec stepped back, causing Xiuxoke to stagger slightly.


    Totec immediately raised his left hand, hurling the shield at Olosh with great force, then gripped the club with both hands, his upper body slightly turned in preparation, and delivered a powerful, sweeping blow. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the blink of an eye, Xiuxoke could only brace his shield in front, but then an irresistible massive force struck, hurling him several meters along with his shield. He fell to the ground coughing up blood, limbs numbed and weak, body twitching slightly, unable to move for the moment.


    Olosh barely managed to dodge the shield when he witnessed the scene. He gasped in shock and swiftly stepped back to protect Xiuxoke. Surrounding City-State Jaguar Warriors also crowded in, dragging Xiuxoke away by the hands and legs.


    From a distance, Xiulote cried out in alarm. Fortunately, slaughtering the great general was not Totec¡¯s goal. Seeing the Jaguar squad retreat, he did not pursue them.


    Totec simply stood his ground, taking several deep breaths to recover the rapidly depleted energy from the intense battle. An Imperial Guard picked up the shield from the ground and respectfully handed it to the grim-faced Supreme Commander, his body stained with blood from the battle.


    Totec nodded, noting the Jaguar squad had indeed retreated far enough. He then turned once more, leading two hundred Tonsured Guards back into the fray on the left side of the Teotihuacan warriors. He aimed to reconnect with the Eagle Warrior Battalion and, with his undoubted authority, regain control over the battalion.


    In the loose battle formation, ordinary warriors could not support each other effectively. Totec always managed to create opportunities for one-on-one attacks, and with each strike, he felled an enemy. In less than a quarter of an hour, he had already knocked down more than a dozen men, nearly clearing through the battle lines, barely seeing the Eagle Warrior Battalion in the distance.


    A fierce scowl appeared on Totec¡¯s face. An experienced Supreme Commander like him could judge the intensity of the battle just by the size of the clash zone.


    He had realized that the Eagle Nobility Battalion was not fighting intensely; these noble warriors were just forming a dense shield formation, engaging in single-sided clashes with a similarly dense formation of Jaguar warriors. War clubs struck each other¡¯s shields, causing a loud clashing noise, but almost no warriors from either side were getting hurt.


    At that moment, the dull sound of drawing bows rang out again.


    Finally, Xiulote brought the Longbow Guards to a position 150 meters from the royal banner, suitable for flat shooting. He quickly arranged the Longbow Warriors in a line formation, increasing the shooting angle. Rapid arrows burst forth like a waterfall, and the archers began firing at a rate of 10 arrows per minute.

 Chapter 86 - 66: Fleeing South_2

    Over a hundred Imperial Guard Warriors formed a tight double-shield formation, yet long arrows kept piercing through the shields and finding gaps. The warriors in the front row kept falling to arrows, and then the warriors in the back row would prop up the bodies of the fallen, continuing to block the arrows, contributing their final loyalty.


    Upon hearing the twang of Greatbows, Totec looked back again and saw the Royal Banner in a shower of arrows. Even with his rock-solid will, he now felt despair: wavering all the way, the army¡¯s morale had long since dissipated; at this point, there was no turning back.


    For the fourth time, Totec let out a deep roar, calling for the two hundred ever-loyal, blood-soaked Imperial Guards locked in combat. Then, he gave up on the Eagle Nobility warriors who were within arm¡¯s reach but beyond his command and turned to charge toward the direction of the Longbow Guards.


    Upon hearing the roar yet again, Xiulote felt much calmer. He glanced at the approaching Imperial Guard Warriors and confidently ordered the Longbow Guards to shoot at Totec.


    At that moment, Totec was hunched over, hiding behind a Great Shield. His body moving quickly, his center of gravity remained stable at a fixed height, his steps consisting of constant small hops, repeatedly accelerating himself. This was a sprint reminiscent of a Jaguar¡¯s hunt, with speeds that could even reach ten meters per second.


    From over two hundred meters away, two volleys from the Longbows killed only thirty to forty Imperial Guards and failed to focus fire on the swiftly moving Totec.


    Xuilot¡¯s eyelid twitched, and without hesitation, he turned and ran, blowing the retreat horn as he went. Bertade did not bother with the Longbow Warriors, instead, covering Xiulote¡¯s retreat.


    "In the end, there are too few Archers!" the young man complained as he ran. "With a thousand Longbowmen, let alone a running tiger, even if it were a flying eagle, I¡¯d shoot it down!"


    Before the youth had gotten far, Totec caught up to the tail of the Longbow Warriors, swinging his staff horizontally and vertically, and in the blink of an eye, nearly ten warriors lay on the ground.


    Moments later, the Copper Spears warriors who were coordinating on the side finally arrived. Stanley avoided Totec, simply directing his warriors to form a dense formation to approach and try to entrap Totec, while Aweit¡¯s Royal Banner stood tall in the distance, maintaining a safe separation from the unmatched fierce general.


    After more fighting, Totec scattered the Longbow Guards. Looking around, only a hundred or so Imperial Guard Warriors remained. Looking farther away, the Eagle Warrior Battalion was still entangled with the Jaguar Warrior Brigade, and the warriors directly under the Royal Family also formed a square formation, lightly clashing with the familiar warriors opposite them.


    He let out a resigned sigh, turned, and ran toward the Royal Banner, like a lonely Jaguar.


    "King! The army¡¯s morale is gone; we are defeated! We must leave quickly! I will protect you as we head south!" Totec knelt on one knee, bowing his head before Tizoc. Blood and sweat flowed from his body, dyeing the ground beneath him red.


    "They have all betrayed me! They all deserve to die!... Totec, can I trust your loyalty?" Tizoc was disheveled, his face covered with dust that revealed a sickly paleness underneath, and only his fierce eyes shimmered with madness.


    "To death for you!" Totec replied, once again clenching his fist with one hand and placing it over his chest. His hands were full of tiny cuts, just like his armor was scarred all over his chest.


    "Good! Let¡¯s go!" Tizoc briskly handed the Royal Banner to an Imperial Guard and discarded the encumbrance on his back.


    "Protect this banner until you die! I promise your offspring a future!" Although he did not remember the name of the Imperial Guard behind him, that did not hinder the King¡¯s final promise.


    The Tonsured Guard bowed his head in acknowledgment, then quickly stood up and silently took over the Royal Banner. Over a decade of special training had instilled absolute loyalty in these guards; they had long since abandoned self.


    "Let¡¯s go!" Tizoc gave the battlefield one final look, as if to etch all the betrayals into his heart.


    "When I return to the Capital, I will send everyone to the sacrificial altar, and let their blood drain!" The King¡¯s eyes were filled with blood-colored hatred.


    "The Otomi as well!" that was the last bit of madness.


    Tizoc did not hesitate to flee south. Over a hundred remaining Tonsured Guards escorted him southward, leaving only a few dozen to protect the Royal Banner. Totec continued to lead the charge, while the warriors directly under the Royal Family scattered, clearing the way for the march.


    Exhausted, Xiuxoke lay on several Leather Armors, surrounded by City-State Warriors who were guarding him. Shielded by the shield and double-layer Leather Armor, he had been shaken by Totec¡¯s blow, breaking two of his ribs; he was now unable to move. Fortunately, his internal organs were unharmed, and he was not in mortal danger.


    At that moment, he managed to raise his head and saw Tizoc fleeing south. Suppressing the pain in his chest, he shouted with determination: "Chase him! We must not let him escape!" S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Olosh sighed, gently laying Xiuxoke¡¯s head down. Tizoc disappeared from his sight in an instant, replaced by the resigned face of the Head Warrior.


    "Commander, don¡¯t be anxious. The overall situation is settled; Tizoc¡¯s defeat is inevitable. With me, the tracking master here, he can¡¯t escape! Do you remember when we were young, watching Jaguars hunting together? The prey¡¯s final struggle is the most dangerous. The Jaguar does not take risks; it simply keeps inflicting wounds, following behind the prey until the prey bleeds out and exhausts its strength, then it strikes lethally!"


    Xiuxoke recalled the carefree youth, a time before he had to shoulder the responsibilities of his father and the family, the exhilarating years. He and his old friend adventured in the Jungle unrestrained, chasing tigers and leopards, seeking hawks and falcons... Calming down, his steadfast face broke into a smile.

 Chapter 87 - 66: Fleeing South_3

    "I¡¯m fine, just broke two bones, a month of rest should do the trick. You go and find Xiulote with the Jaguar warriors, tell him not to worry about me. Quickly, take the Longbow Guards, and pursuit together! Remember, do not go near Totec until Tizoc is dead!"


    Olosh nodded, glanced at Xiuxoke¡¯s smiling face, and also smiled. He reached out to feel his old friend¡¯s forehead, ensuring there was no fever. He then lifted his friend¡¯s Leather Armor to check carefully, making sure there was no bleeding.


    Afterward, he thought hard, turning to instruct the surrounding samurai, "Use the ropes from your captives to carefully secure the brigade commander¡¯s ribcage. Remember to tie it tightly so that he cannot move, just like tying up a crocodile."


    "Head Warrior, how do you tie up a crocodile? I¡¯ve never done it," a warrior said, visibly troubled.


    "You¡¯ve never tied a crocodile? There are so many by the river, what were you lads doing when you were young! Silly turkeys! Fine, you must have tied up a deer, right? Remember to pad his chest with a soft cloth."


    Having said that, Olosh turned to leave, then thought again and added, "Get another roll of cotton, cover the commander¡¯s eyes with it, don¡¯t let him look around. We have already won this battle, let him sleep well. It¡¯s been a restless journey! Watch him closely, make sure not to move!"


    Only then did Olosh nod in satisfaction, feeling he had considered everything properly. He then hastily led the elite Jaguar squad toward Aweit¡¯s Royal Banner.


    Xiuxoke was left with a resigned, bitter smile.


    Watching Totec leading Tizoc flee south, the giant bear Stanley finally stepped from behind the shield wall of the Copper Spears warriors. He looked at Totec¡¯s retreating figure, both fighting spirit and awe flashing in his eyes.


    Then he charged boldly forward, rushing toward the Royal Banner guarded by only a few dozen men. The Copper Spears warriors swarmed in, quickly felling the severely wounded Tonsured Guards. Stanley then grasped the flag with both hands, forcefully snapping it, and Tizoc¡¯s Royal Banner slowly fell.


    By this, the outcome had been decided, leaving only one king on the battlefield!


    Seeing that the overall situation was settled, the dignified Aweit raised the Royal Banner and Divine Staff, once again loudly offering amnesty: "In the name of Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, the crime lies solely with Tizoc, those who surrender will be pardoned!"


    As Tizoc fled south and the Royal Banner fell, the Eagle Nobility Battle Group were the first to react. They had been observing the situation and upon hearing Aweit¡¯s promise, they slowly retreated, tactfully disengaging from the Jaguar Warrior Brigade.


    Then, they discarded their original battle group flags, replacing them with large flags painted with a blood-red sun, kneeling on one knee before Aweit to signify submission. Given that both royal families shared similar family crests, they had to distinguish themselves with different royal regalia, clearly prepared beforehand.


    Lastly, the noble warriors pushed forward the now powerless commander who had been loyal to Tizoc, tying him up with hemp ropes; he was the scapegoat they presented.


    Xiulote, watching the noble battle group¡¯s surrender, felt that the process flowed seamlessly, naturally, without a trace of fireworks, and the surrender was as it should be.


    The direct samurai were much more straightforward. Upon hearing the king¡¯s promise, the seven thousand direct samurai dropped their weapons and knelt toward the Royal Banner, bowing their heads to the ground. They used obsidian shards to cut off part of their own hair, demonstrating their loyalty and obedience. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aweit, meanwhile, sent out his trusted aides to incorporate the surrendering samurai, quickly convening the generals.


    In just a moment, Stanley with his Copper Spears warriors, Xiulote with his Longbow Guards, and Olosh¡¯s City-State Jaguar warriors, all gathered beneath the Royal Banner.


    The youth anxiously asked Olosh, "Teacher, how is my father¡¯s injury?"


    Hearing the address "Teacher," Aweit¡¯s brow slightly furrowed as he cast an unhappy glance at Olosh.


    "The Commander¡¯s injuries are not severe; there are no life-threatening dangers. He wants us to quickly pursue Tizoc!" Olosh assured the youth with a comforting look.


    The youth nodded, his worries lingering as he glanced in the direction of his father briefly.


    Aweit tapped his Divine Staff with his fingers, producing a crisp sound that instantly brought solemnity among the warriors.


    "We must capture Tizoc! Xiulote, I give you seven hundred Samurai, take along one hundred Longbow Guards and two hundred Jaguar Warrior Brigade from the Holy City, and quickly head south to pursue!"


    The battle was brief and brutal, with the Personal Guard on both sides bearing the brunt of the losses. Aweit¡¯s two thousand Samurai lost three hundred, and the Longbow Guards also suffered nearly fifty casualties.


    These Samurai were a legacy from his mother, holding the highest loyalty to Aweit. Now, he was giving seven hundred to the youth, retaining only one thousand loyal warriors to command the Royal Family¡¯s army.


    "In the south, I have already stationed over ten thousand blockading warriors, and I also transfer their command to you. They will work with you to encircle Tizoc!" Aweit said with a slight smile as he handed the youth a token.


    "Stanley, you follow Xiulote as well, protect him and stay vigilant against Totec!"


    Stanley knelt on one knee, bowing his head respectfully to accept the command.


    "Tizoc represents Totec¡¯s battle creed. Don¡¯t aim to capture him alive, shoot to kill Tizoc directly! Do not engage Totec in close combat! Protect yourself well." Aweit finally leaned in, whispering in the youth¡¯s ear, then gently patted his head.


    Xiulote also knelt on one knee, bowing to receive his orders. From this battle forward, the teacher was the sole King. He needed to show respect for the King in front of all warriors.


    Aweit nodded, then lifted the youth¡¯s hands, watching him as he departed. He would stay here to continue reorganizing the Surrendered Army and asserting dominance over the eagle Nobility.


    A thousand elite warriors quickly gathered.


    Xiulote straightened his chest, looking confidently at his forces: elite warriors armed with Copper Spears, Longbows, and War Clubs, with Stanley, Bertade, and Olosh bowing to listen to the orders.


    The youth was spirited and full of vigor. This was his first time leading an army alone, and also his first time going to capture a King!


    "Warriors, hear my command!" Since the youth had no Divine Staff, he could only swing his War Club southward: "Move south to search for the enemy, regardless of life or death!"


    The army roared in response, immediately heading south quickly, like a pack of wolves rushing in pursuit. This was the ultimate hunt!

 Chapter 88 - 67: Sunset and Sunrise

    The sun set obliquely to the west, leaving behind the last of its afterglow and warmth. The golden rays of sunlight fell and refracted across the shimmering hills, painting a magnificent wilderness.


    This was the boundary between the Otomi woodlands and the edge of the Mexican Valley. Southward from here, the trees gradually thinned, and the mountains flattened progressively.


    Hundreds of warriors with longbows and copper spears marched south with steady, unquestioning strides.


    A young commander wearing a helmet to cover his face was walking at the center of the troop. He was of a smaller stature, holding a shield, carrying a war club on his back, and draped in a commander¡¯s Sun Stone cloak with a greatbow painted on the back. An exquisite obsidian necklace wrapped around his neck, symbolizing the status of a high priest.


    As the solemn warriors advanced, flocks of birds sporadically took flight, and the swirling cries of eagles echoed by their ears.


    The young commander watched the eagle soaring through the brilliant red glow, bidding farewell to the golden sun and the warmth of this world.


    At his side, an especially robust Jaguar warrior listened intently. After the similar cries of the eagle repeated several times, he nodded in understanding.


    "Xiulote, the prey has moved eastward, half a day¡¯s journey from us, now drinking water," Olosh confidently stated.


    Xiulote nodded slightly. He wore the face-covering helmet to maintain the majesty of his command and to prevent the warriors from seeing the youthful face of the commander.


    "Teacher, is that all?" the young man maintained his demeanor, and after a long while, he turned to Olosh, his face filled with surprise.


    "Of course! The Jaguar warriors¡¯ imitation of the eagle signals can only convey simple messages: east, west, south, north, half a day, one day, two days, drinking, eating, sleeping. It¡¯s not human language; what more do you want?"


    Olosh looked at the young man, gave a helpless smile, and shook his head lightly.


    "Also, within the army, the hierarchy is clear. You need to maintain your prestige, just call me by my name!"


    "Yes, Teacher."


    Xiulote nodded and then loudly commanded, "Turn east!"


    The warriors obeyed the order and pursued eastward.


    The hunt had been ongoing for two days. During these days, the Jaguar warriors from the Holy City of Teotihuacan finally had the chance to excel and demonstrate their traditional skill: hunting.


    Unlike their prosperous counterparts in the capital, the war nobility of Teotihuacan did not have enough land and villages to sustain themselves. The High Priesthood also held a dominant position in the distribution of City-State wealth.


    The war nobility of the Holy City had to fend for themselves to supplement their household.


    They often ventured into the northern woodlands to hunt tigers, leopards, deer, wolves, and crocodiles, thereby obtaining hides and meat. The hides were used to create or repair leather armor, and the meat was used to supplement the young warriors in training in their families.


    Every so often, when large sacrificial rites necessitated preparations for sacrifices, the warriors would assemble into small teams and delve deep into the lands of the Otomi, Vastec, Tarasco, and even Tlaxcala people to capture the local Canine Descendants, raid enemy villages, and even capture opposing warriors. This was the capture of prisoners.


    Capturing prisoners could bring promotion and honor to the participating warriors but also hid the cruel reality of death. Male sacrifices could bring rewards from the temple, while female captives could be exchanged for riches in the market or simply kept at home to weave.


    The youth of Teotihuacan always experienced their first battle through capturing prisoners, just as Xiulote himself had. Once the veteran warriors were promoted to war nobility, most of them joined the adept Jaguar Warrior Brigade to further enhance their hunting abilities.


    In hunting, the most crucial skill was tracking, and the most valuable quality was patience.


    To capture a peerless warrior like Totec, Xiulote had ample patience.


    The young commander scattered the Jaguar warriors of the Holy City into the woodlands. They kept a close watch on Totec¡¯s movements, transmitting signals through the high, swirling cries of eagles.


    The movements of Tizoc were consistently tracked; despite several attempts by Totec to break away and scatter, he failed each time.


    In the two days of pursuit, the hunters continuously inflicted wounds on their prey, draining its stamina, waiting for an opportunity to deliver a fatal blow!


    Whenever the Imperial Guards drank water, ate, or rested, the Longbow Warriors from the squad would quietly appear. The rapid-fire longbows delivered deadly feathered arrows, snatching away tired lives one after another and preventing the guards from regrouping.


    By now, over half of the 150 Imperial Guard Warriors had already fallen. The remaining loyal escorts were also injured and exhausted. They didn¡¯t even dare to kindle a fire at night and could only chew on cold rations, enduring the chilly wind.


    Once the enraged Totec prepared to chase, other squads would appear in the surrounding mountains, waiting for an opportunity to shoot the king. Totec was like a fierce beast, bound hand and foot, and Tizoc was the rope that bound him.


    Would the fierce beast submit to him if he cut that rope? The youth mused leisurely.


    Just then, guided by a Jaguar Warrior, Stanley came from the forests to the east. He hurried along, his expression slightly weary but very exhilarated.


    "I¡¯ve made contact with the Samurai Brigade to the south, three thousand samurai have encircled from the south, and by tomorrow morning, we will have Tizoc completely trapped."


    "Well done," the youth removed his masked helmet, revealing his handsome face. His demeanor was confidently buoyant.


    "Tomorrow morning, let us launch the fatal strike!"


    Nights without a campfire were always tough. Totec¡¯s eyes were slightly closed as he stayed alert, guarding by Tizoc¡¯s side.


    Around the king, Imperial Guards with shields stood vigilant. These two days of marching and fighting, the attacks leaving no time for sleep, found the guards struggling amidst exhaustion. Occasionally, they would close their eyes and bow their heads, their helmets lightly tapping the top of their shields, then they¡¯d startle awake for a moment before quickly falling back asleep.


    Totec listened carefully, hearing neither the annoying cry of eagles nor the low hum of longbows. He slightly relaxed. Tonight, the rebels hadn¡¯t disturbed them. He glanced again at the exhausted, scarred guards and said nothing.


    Everyone enjoyed the rare rest, and the king could finally sleep peacefully. In his sleep, he growled unclear dream talk softly. In these two days, the army had traveled south harshly, harassed by rebels day and night; even sleeping required keeping one eye open.


    In adversity, the king found the resilience of a samurai within himself. He no longer complained or cursed. Instead, he periodically motivated the loyal Imperial Guards, promising them a future.


    "This is truly the descendant of Montezuma," Totec thought quietly, "not enamored with theology, not slighting loyal samurai. Not swayed by the Chief Priest¡¯s words, leading to murderous thoughts toward his own brother."


    "If only he had been this way sooner..." Totec shook his head slightly. Once things of this world pass, they can never be changed; since they cannot be changed, there¡¯s no need to dwell on them.


    "If we can return to the capital this time, the king will surely change and become a monarch like Montezuma!"


    Totec tried to recall the face of the Predecessor Monarch but could only remember a vague, towering figure. Perhaps, in the distant past, in his youth, he never dared to directly face the great and brilliant Montezuma. He merely obeyed Montezuma¡¯s orders, loyally serving the king, keeping his vow of protection.


    As a Tonsured Guard, he protected the previous monarch; as a Supreme Commander, he protected Tizoc. He was grateful to the king for his promotions, but official positions and awards meant little to him.


    He was entirely alone, without a wife or relatives, living a simple life, pure as a rock on the mountain top. Because a samurai¡¯s life is nothing but being true to their mission, fulfilling their promises until a peaceful death!


    The moments of tranquility always passed quickly, and at the crack of dawn, a new red sun emerged. The sunrise, with endless dawn and hope, illuminated the vast world, reaching for the highest peak, just as a monarch among men.


    The red sun rises, its path brightly lit.


    Totec watched the brilliant dawn, as it dyed the clouds at the horizon. The clouds unfolded from the east like the gates to the Divine Kingdom. A profound smile of enlightenment rose in his heart: the old sun had passed, the new sun had just risen ¡ª what a beautiful day it was, fitting for a peaceful death.


    That night, Xiulote had slept well. He woke to the dawn and lazily stretched against the rising sun. Then the youth donned his armor, guided by the cry of eagles, and led the warriors east. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Before noon, he received urgent intelligence. Totec, leading eighty Imperial Guards, was nearly breaking through a thousand-man camp to the east, and it was uncertain how long the two thousand-man camps behind could hold on.


    The youth cursed internally: "These Royal Warriors are so ineffectual!"


    He immediately ordered, eight hundred samurai surged like a torrent, rapidly heading east.

 Chapter 89 - 68 Withering

    After about half an hour¡¯s run, the battlefield finally appeared before their eyes.


    Xiulote climbed the nearest mound and peered down; four to five hundred meters away, the towering figure of Totec appeared once more. He was leading over thirty Imperial Guards forward, charging at the Royal Warriors who were obstructing the formation, with Tizoc guarded by more than fifty Imperial Guards behind him.


    The young Commander furrowed his brow. He had seen the exact state of the battlefield and couldn¡¯t say that the group of Royal Warriors was shirking their duties.


    Every three hundred of them formed a dense shield formation, primarily focusing on defense. Seeing Totec leading the Imperial Guards in a charge, they would try to sidestep to avoid the fierce onslaught, aiming to wear down Totec¡¯s stamina. They waited for the rear guard where Tizoc was to get closer, then moved forward again to entangle repeatedly, forcing Totec to return to aid his troops. Ten shield formations alternated in this manner, continuously harassing the enemy.


    Put plainly, it was still akin to a pack of wolves tearing at their prey, attacking relentless to exhaust the opponent¡¯s stamina and capturing the prey with minimal casualties.


    Totec would occasionally burst into the shield formations, striking swiftly a few times, taking down the squad leaders at the front before retreating before he could be swarmed. He would not stray too far from the supporting Imperial Guards, preventing himself from being surrounded from both front and back. Once encircled by the dense formations, losing speed and space, even the most valiant of warriors could only hold out for a moment.


    Each effective assault would heavily drain his stamina and add some new wounds, but it also plunged the shield formations ahead into stagnation and chaos, losing command for at least a quarter of an hour. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    To break through such layered obstructions, either the speed of the assault had to surpass the rate of the shield formations¡¯ alternation, as Totec was doing now¡ªalready leaving a significant number of shield formations behind. If his stamina was sufficient, he could completely break through with the King in half an hour.


    The other method was to continue the struggle until nightfall. When darkness descended, the dense shield formations would fall apart, and the military formations would become difficult to coordinate. During a night battle, the individual combat ability of the warriors was amplified, and with Totec¡¯s capacity, breaking through would be a breeze.


    Xiulote gestured with his hand; Bertade nodded his head, both having conspired earlier with a simple and crude plan.


    As the Samurai continued to march into position and the deep sound of drawing bows rose again, any possibility of breaking through was lost.


    Totec halted his steps. He turned around to look at the nearby mound. More than a hundred paces away, Longbows took aim. The Commander cloaked in a cape stood in front, the same diminutive Samurai who had saved Aweit. Beside the diminutive warrior were three familiar old adversaries: Stanley holding the Great Shield, Bertade drawing the Longbow, and Olosh gripping the Javelin.


    "Tizoc, surrender!" called out the youth, removing his helmet to reveal a face that was delicate yet resolute.


    All this effort, of course, was not for the doomed King. The youth¡¯s gaze was fixated on Totec as if beholding a rare treasure.


    Totec also looked at the youth. His body was covered in indelible bloodstains, his face was full of dust, and his brow could not hide his fatigue, yet his expression remained as steadfast as a rock.


    No matter how difficult the situation, his unwavering will would never give up!


    Seeing Xiulote¡¯s face, Totec was slightly surprised, then the only thought he pondered was recalling the youth¡¯s identity. His gaze immediately sharpened, he slightly bent his body, breathing quickly to conserve energy. Then he slowly moved forward, his whole body poised and ready to strike like a Jaguar ready to pounce.


    Only by capturing the youth alive could he have the slightest hope of escape!


    "So it¡¯s you, you little mongrel! It was you all along!" Tizoc suddenly realized, shouting loudly from within the protection of the Imperial Guards¡¯ Great Shields.


    In the two days of fleeing south, he had repeatedly dissected the failings of the civil unrest but had never been able to make sense of the events.


    How could Aweit suddenly appear at the mountainous camp? Why were Ktok¡¯s reinforcements in the hands of Aweit? Why did Xiuxoke¡¯s legion betray him at the most crucial moment? Now, he believed he finally understood the whole truth of the matter.


    "So the puppeteer behind the scenes is Xutel, that old fox! The old fox colluded with a venomous snake!" he exclaimed.


    "The sinister snake has bitten me once, and the cunning jackal too has bitten me, and now even this little pup that hasn¡¯t yet grown its teeth wants to take a bite! Tell me, who else is there? Quetzal, that old venomous frog, has he betrayed me too?"


    Xiulote¡¯s appearance seemed to shatter the last shred of sanity in Tizoc, and madness once again took over his eyes. He waved the Divine Staff in his hand excitedly, and the composure of a warrior once again vanished from his being.


    "Tell my brother, this little mongrel is a threat to his throne, and he is the reincarnation of Montezuma. He will sooner or later die at the hands of the old fox and the jackal! Only by killing them..."


    As Tizoc shouted towards Stanley, madness kept him from being rational, but it could not erase the cunning ingrained in his very bones. Perhaps imagining the delightful scene of his enemies slaughtering each other, his excitedly waving Divine Staff deflected the shield in front, revealing a significant gap.


    "Shut up!" Xiulote could no longer bear Tizoc¡¯s slander and instigation against his grandfather, father, and Aweit. Infuriated, he swung the War Club, ready to cast aside the original plan and order the Longbow Warriors to shoot in unison, no longer concerned about the possibility of accidentally injuring Totec!


    "Whoosh!" A sharp Lightning struck with the loud sound of air being ripped, carrying a slight curve, in the blink of an eye it passed through the gap opened by the shields, directly hitting Tizoc behind them. The King was instantly silenced!


    Bertade¡¯s Longbow trembled, and a smug smile appeared on the corners of his mouth, proudly admiring his own shot.

 Chapter 90 - 68 Withering_2

    Totec listened to the voice, his heart trembling. He changed the angle of his force and charged toward the King, but it was already too late.


    The long arrow, with a quivering sound, pierced through Tizoc¡¯s throat with a thud. Then, carrying immense kinetic energy, it tore through the King¡¯s windpipe and sliced open his right common carotid artery from the inside. A great amount of blood gushed from within the neck, streaming into the adjacent trachea.


    Tizoc could no longer speak. He collapsed in Totec¡¯s arms, struggling to breathe, but could only gasp out mouthfuls of bloody foam. The King, in the triple agony of choking, suffocating, and bleeding, struggled for several dozen seconds before his hand loosened, the Divine Staff falling to the ground, granting him eternal release.


    Bertade¡¯s smile froze. His aim had been the eyes, so the process would have been quick, and the King wouldn¡¯t have suffered much.


    Stanley said admiringly, "As soon as the Commander said ¡¯shut up,¡¯ the Head Warrior shot an arrow through Tizoc¡¯s throat, a shot worthy of the God of the Hunt! That¡¯s the first merit of this battle!"


    Since they had joined forces against Totec two days before, Stanley¡¯s impression of Bertade had greatly improved. He thought that although the other came from a humble background, he was indeed a warrior no less brave than himself. And between warriors, mutual admiration was only right.


    Olosh sneered, "To hit the throat from over a hundred steps away, I couldn¡¯t do that! You must be the lame tiger that caught a blind rabbit, purely by luck."


    The calm, weather-beaten warrior¡¯s old face turned red. He simply looked up at the sky, paying no further heed to the envious crowd. Above, the noon sun rose high into the sky.


    Although the three mighty warriors felt a pang at Tizoc¡¯s death, there was little turmoil in their hearts. Their spirits were high, longing only for a broader sky!


    However, not all warriors longed for the future; some already left their faith and vows in the past.


    The battlefield fell silent, the old King was dead, all was at rest.


    Totec held the dead King, his arms drenched in blood that flowed down his limbs, across his body, and onto the earth at his feet.


    All would return to the earth, as per his oath.


    Totec remained motionless, like a statue set in stone. Head bowed, Xiulote couldn¡¯t make out the expression on his face. Beside him, the Imperial Guards had also lost their animation, like withered trees bereft of life.


    The youth waited for a moment and, seeing the statues remained motionless, decided to take the initiative.


    "Totec! Tizoc has passed away! I will give him a glorious and grand funeral! I will conduct a Sacrificial Rite to guide him into the Divine Kingdom! Come, help me!"


    As if those words flipped a switch, Totec finally slowly bent over. He laid the King¡¯s body on the ground and gently closed the eyes, which were opened wide in pain. Then, with slight effort, he pulled out the long arrow lodged in the King¡¯s throat.


    Then he removed his double-layered armor and with a bronze Long Dagger cut through his undershirt, tearing a long strip of cotton. The sharp blade cut through the muscles on his chest, oozing out threads of fresh blood. His demeanor didn¡¯t change one bit, as he slowly and steadily wrapped the King¡¯s wounded throat, then straightened the King¡¯s appearance.


    The youth¡¯s words stuck in his throat. He said no more, silently watching the scene, a bad premonition forming in his heart.


    Totec knelt on one knee and finally performed a ritual of allegiance to the deceased King. Then he stood up and faced the youth.


    Xiulote observed carefully and saw that Totec¡¯s face bore no sadness, anger, pain, or relief. His usually stern, impassive face now lacked even temperature, like an inanimate boulder. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Heart as dead as ashes, now we¡¯re in trouble!" The youth felt uneasy and made a last attempt.


    "Totec, surrender! Tizoc is dead, Aweit is the new King. We can pledge our loyalty together to Aweit! If you surrender, the position of the Supreme Commander can still be yours! Whatever you want, I can promise on behalf of Aweit, such as the status of a Third Level Nnobility or a wife from the Royal Family..."


    The youth felt perhaps his own prestige wasn¡¯t enough, so he took on the role of granting titles and making promises on behalf of Aweit, surety that Aweit would agree. After all, an army is easy to obtain, but a good general is hard to find. With such a fierce warrior, one could form a strong Battle Group to strike at enemy commanders in major battles and secure critical victories. With him, conquering the world would be much easier. Besides, Totec¡¯s leadership skills were clear for all to see.


    Totec just shook his head gently.


    "We could join hands to conquer this world! The Tarasco, the Tlaxcalans, the Otomi, the Mistecs, the Zapotecs... We could work together to conquer all of them! This is also the will of our predecessor Montezuma!"


    Xiulote, increasingly frantic, realized that the Great General refused to surrender and remembered that the previous generation of warriors were young men during the reign of Montezuma, who held a particularly special place and influence in their hearts. So he cited the alleged will of the former king.


    Totec nodded, then shook his head, and finally spoke.


    "The will of our predecessor Montezuma was to integrate this Alliance. He said, ¡¯I have conquered enough land; my descendants must unify this fragmented Alliance into one entity. Reduce the Priest¡¯s divine power, increase control over the City-States, decrease the Great Nobility¡¯s lands, for this is the path to enduring peace.¡¯

 Chapter 91 - 68 Withering_3

    Xiulote was stunned. Had Montezuma truly spoken these words? Born of the Royal Family himself, he had not heard a single sentence of it. He suddenly felt a chill in his heart: Even someone as great as Montezuma, once he died, all records unfavorable to the Priests and Great Nobility would be quietly erased.


    The young man thought for a moment, and then urged, "Then come and help us! If you wish to inherit Montezuma¡¯s will and reform the Alliance, we still need external conquests to gain the military prestige needed to assume control. You can help us to accelerate the realization of this great future!"


    Totec did not speak. After a moment, he answered.


    "My duty was to guard the King, but I failed."


    "I made mistakes. I should not have recommended Aweit for the role of Commander-in-Chief of the Southern Army under the siege camp at Otapan City, giving him the opportunity. I should have persuaded the King not to rashly choose to battle Aweit and suffer such a crushing defeat. I should have identified Xiuxoke earlier, but I did not. I was supposed to protect the King as he moved south, yet I still failed to fulfill that duty."


    "I made an oath to guard, and now the oath is unfulfilled! I assumed the responsibility and now the responsibility has failed! As a Samurai, what else is there to say? All that remains is death."


    Totec¡¯s voice finally wavered; his low murmur echoed between heaven and earth, carrying an unwavering will.


    Finally, in a burst of urgency, the young man shouted, "Don¡¯t you care about the King¡¯s body? Who will guide his spirit? What about your comrades-in-arms? Will you just let them die?" sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Upon hearing this, Totec nodded, "Thank you for reminding me."


    He looked around at the last 80 Tonsured Guards: "After my death, you are not to commit suicide. Swear loyalty to the new King! This is my final command!"


    The Imperial Guards simply knelt on one knee in silence, bowing their heads in obedience.


    Then, facing the young man, Totec said seriously, "The body of the King I leave to you. The King was Aweit¡¯s elder brother by one, and for the sake of the new King¡¯s reputation, Aweit will surely give the King a grand funeral."


    "The King should not have laid siege to Otapan City; it caused the hearts of the people to scatter and invited interference from other Tribes, it also allowed Aweit to rise opportunistically. This was the root of all failure, but alas, I could not persuade him."


    "After this war, the Otomi people have been greatly weakened and no longer pose a threat to us. You can sign treaties with them and save the captured Samurai. If they refuse to negotiate, then use your catapults to take down Xilotepec City. Shielded by forests and hills, they cannot threaten us. Do not besiege the Mountain city of Otapan any longer!"


    "If the new King is prepared for external conquest, target the Mistec or Zapotecs to the south, their rudimentary city fortifications and Wealth will satisfy the Nobility and Samurai. Alternatively, target the isolated Tarasco to the west; their copper mines will strengthen the nation!"


    "Do not first attack the people of Tlaxcala, for that is like a pond where the birds rest. Throw a stone, and you will startle flocks into flight. They will call for reinforcements from the Nava and Mistec people. The Holy Land of Cholula, once threatened, will eventually choose to support them. The King of Tarasco is far-sighted and will definitely come to their aid."


    "This Divine Staff is very important to the Quetzal. If Aweit needs support from the Quetzal, he could use this Divine Staff as a bargain. If you plan to deal with the Quetzal, then keep it safe."


    "Finally, my Predecessor Monarch once said that after death, spirits naturally go to the Divine Kingdom, and there is no need for anyone to guide them. Such a ritual is merely a tool for the Priests to control the hearts of the people."


    "After I die, please bury me simply, without a mark, and I ask that you not hold a Sacrificial Rite..."


    Xiulote was shocked in his heart. The seemingly cold and reticent Totec had always had a mind clear as a mirror!


    He now felt a belated fear, realizing that if it weren¡¯t for Tizoc¡¯s constraint, letting Totec act freely, both he and Aweit would likely have ended up with no place for burial!


    Having said all that had been weighing on his heart for a long time, Totec¡¯s face finally took on the breath of life; as if he had broken free from shackles that had bound him for years, he had attained inner freedom at last.


    In the end, he lifted his gaze towards the beautiful clouds on the horizon, revealing a vivid smile.


    "A Samurai is like a fading flower:


    The flower fades naturally, I remember its beauty,


    It¡¯s time I should peacefully pass away, leaving behind my own beauty.


    Because a flower never longs for the beauty of the world,


    It chooses to die quietly on a beautiful day...


    With his final words spoken, Totec naturally lifted the Copper Dagger in his right hand, gently sliding it across his neck. He allowed the bright red to flow silently, quietly watching the distant sky, smiling, revealing the surprise of reliving memories, and then he fell to the ground without a sound.


    The young man watched this scene in a daze. Tears involuntarily slid down his cheeks.


    This was the withering of a flower, in the most beautiful season. This was the death of a Samurai.

 Chapter 92 - 69 Conclusion

    The noonday sunshine was still warm, but the autumn breeze carried a slight chill.


    In the light of the sun, scattered weapons gleamed coldly, leaving behind the final sparkles of the samurai. With the breeze came the gently falling yellow leaves, carrying away the silent farewells of many.


    The campaign that began at the great Otapan camp, developed by the waiting at the Lerma River, and climaxed with the fierce battle in the mountain encampment, had now come to an end, just like the close of the rainy season. The king and his warriors had all returned to dust.


    After a long while, Xiulote silently stepped forward. He gently closed Totec¡¯s eyes and, touching the samurai¡¯s cold, stiff face, once again smelled the familiar scent of blood and couldn¡¯t help but let out a soft sigh.


    Olosh came up from behind and gently patted the young man¡¯s shoulder.


    "Xiulote, even the mightiest jaguar will one day die in the forest, and even the highest eagle will fall to the mud. We all have our day. To die for one¡¯s beliefs is actually a samurai¡¯s fortune. I, too, look forward to such a day!"


    Xiulote nodded, calming down from the intense emotions. The sorrow in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a determination that came from within. It was a lesson taught by example, showing the young man what a samurai¡¯s will was, and what it meant to have beliefs and to protect them!


    Strength was shaping his spirit, erasing completely the fragility of his future life.


    He moved over to Tizoc¡¯s body and looked at the face smeared with mud. The once-superior king now lay on the ground, looking no different from an ordinary man. The young man shook his head; he felt nothing for the king¡¯s death. If it was a fight to the death between enemies, then death it should be.


    Xiulote picked up the Divine Staff from the ground. It had a slender wooden body, with ancient textures, and on top was a gold base studded with a ring of yellow gemstones the size of pearls, forming the outline of the sun. The young man thought of Aweit, and likewise flicked his finger on the Divine Staff.


    A clear and melodious chime of gold and jade reverberated across the fields, also spanning through time and space.


    This was the ancestral Divine Staff, passed down for hundreds of years, a symbol of divine authority.


    During the times when the Priesthood dominated everything in the tribe, this staff was passed down from Priest to Priest. After the Lake Capital City was established, the staff was always kept in the hands of the Chief Priesthood of the Great Temple. When the king and the Chief Priesthood maintained an intimate relationship, the Chief Priest would confer the Divine Staff to the king in the name of the Guardian God, declaring the support of the Chief Priesthood.


    The intimacy of this relationship was like that between Tizoc and Quetzal. And the price for obtaining the support of the Chief Priest was the retreat of royal power and the expansion of divine authority.


    In fact, before Montezuma made another Divine Staff, this single Divine Staff also represented royal power derived from divine authority. Of the fifteen predecessor monarchs of the Aztec, half came from priestly backgrounds, or were Priests of royal descent.


    Xiulote remembered, the king had once used this staff to communicate with the gods in the Holy City, in front of his grandfather. At that time, tens of thousands of samurai watched with reverence, bowing their heads and not daring to look directly. This shows how deeply divine authority had penetrated into people¡¯s hearts.


    The young man frowned, feeling quite troubled whenever he thought of divine authority and the Priesthood.


    The authority of the Priests didn¡¯t come from one or two individuals, but from an entire class. In this era, the Priests were the most educated class. Their power came from the possession of various kinds of knowledge, the conduct of rituals for harvest, funerals, marriages, and the interpretation of myths and celestial phenomena.


    The power of the Priests came from a complete monopoly of culture!


    With such power, Priests could influence the succession of the Royal Family, divert the taxes of the City-States, occupy large tracts of land and villages, and also had a large number of following samurai, continually manipulating the hearts of the common people.


    As a widely renowned fifth-level Priest, the young man¡¯s own force included five hundred following samurai. To support these samurai, he too had to acquire wealth and land.


    "Go back and discuss it well with Aweit. Mexica society is still before the cultural enlightenment of contending schools of thought, and Huaxia¡¯s civil official system doesn¡¯t exist, not even the foundation of a civil service examination. Compared to the hereditary world of the Great Nobility with its rigid class structure, at least the Priesthood absorbs some excellent commoners."


    "In the future, the power of the Priests can only be limited and guided, not completely eradicated!"


    The young man was contemplating future plans when he heard Olosh¡¯s light exclamation.


    "Eh! Xiulote, come quickly, what is this?"


    Upon hearing this, the young man looked over and saw Olosh, who had no taboos, rummaging through Tizoc¡¯s body.


    To his surprise, he pulled out a large piece of neatly folded exquisite cotton cloth from the king¡¯s embrace, full of drawn pictures and symbols, with the distinctive fragrance of rouge dye.


    This large piece of exquisite cotton cloth was equivalent to three hundred cacao beans, or one hundred corn cakes, only to be used as paper for recordkeeping by the King and the Great Nobility. The price of vermilion dye was even more expensive, comparable to the gold of the Old World.


    "After returning this time, I¡¯ll develop paper-making technology to provide a medium for cultural dissemination," the youth pondered.


    He then took the exquisite piece of cotton cloth and unfolded it. It was a huge design plan, depicting a three-dimensional ritual stone disk.


    From the distance markings, the disk had a diameter of about three meters and a height of about one meter. The top of the disk was engraved with ritual images of five suns from the calendar. Above the top, there was space for the intended placement of a Guardian God sculpture or ritual offering stone table. The sides of the ritual plate featured sixteen images of battling Monarchs, engraved with the imposing figure of the King and his diminutive defeated enemies.


    Each Monarch bore the markings of divinities, like the War God¡¯s splendid headdress, the Primordial Sun¡¯s shifting smoke, the the Feathered Serpent¡¯s tri-colored long feathers, and the God of Death¡¯s red tongue. The first fifteen images naturally represented the fifteen preceding Monarchs of Aztec history, and the sixteenth was Tizoc himself.


    Under the feet of the Monarchs, there were enemies either kneeling in submission or lying dead. These enemies had various name tags, symbolizing the City-States and lands conquered by each Monarch. The enemies lying dead under Montezuma¡¯s feet were especially numerous, with dense markings filling the scene.


    Beneath Tizoc¡¯s feet, there were, for now, only two names: Xilotepec and Otapan. However, he left himself a great deal of space, clearly harboring grand ambitions.


    "This must be one of the reasons why Tizoc insisted on maintaining the siege!" Xiulote looked at the image of the Ottopan Warriors and their markings on the plan and felt a tinge of emotion.


    Even after discarding the Royal Banner, abandoning the army, and fleeing south in a panic, Tizoc did not give up this design. The dense design markings revealed the devotion he poured into it, his faith in theology. Unfortunately, this historically famous "Tizoc Stone" would never appear again.


    "History has been forever changed!" On second thought, the youth felt a sense of excitement. "Now it¡¯s our era!"


    The battle was over, and it was time to reorganize the troops.


    Xiulote ordered Stanley to accept the surrender of the remaining Royal Family Imperial Guards; their loyalty and combat prowess were unmatched. Perhaps Aweit would use them as a seed to rebuild the Tonsured Guard Camp.


    He also tasked Olosh with organizing the three thousand warriors directly under the Royal Family, preparing to take them northward on their return.


    Finally, he praised Bertade for his remarkable archery and ordered his Head Warrior to dig pits to bury Totec¡¯s remains. He himself sat cross-legged on the ground, carving a wooden grave marker and began to etch cubic Chinese characters with his knife.


    Another hour passed. The troops were ready, and Xiulote prepared to start the journey back.


    He made his last stop at Totec¡¯s grave, looking at the nameless headstone.


    "Here lies a true Samurai. He possessed peerless martial arts, the purest soul, and a beautiful acceptance of death. Now, he has died for his beliefs, please do not disturb his peace."


    Who here could truly understand the Chinese characters on this? It was impossible to learn Chinese quickly, and even Bertade had not learned much. Xiulote smiled self-deprecatingly; this was but a memorial he wrote for himself. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the end, the youth touched his chest with his hand and silently asked himself:


    "What are my beliefs?"


    "My beliefs are also to protect. Now, I must protect my ancestors, friends, lover, followers... everyone I care about. In the future, when I ascend to the throne, it will be the people of this land, this nation, and civilization!"


    He gazed at the shallow grave, remembering the Samurai¡¯s serene smile, and once again questioned himself.


    "When the choice arises, can I die for my own beliefs?"


    Xiulote reflected for a moment, contemplating the road ahead filled with hardships, as well as future diseases and colonizers. The youth nodded silently and firmly.


    "I can," he said as he turned and walked away with the bearing of both a Samurai and a Commander-in-Chief.


    The army of four thousand set off towards the encampment to the north, three days¡¯ journey away. The old days had ended, and a new era was dawning!

 Chapter 93 - 70: Autumn Harvest, Grain and Surrender

    October marked the end of the rainy season, with the sun finally generously spreading its light across the land, illuminating the path home.


    October was also the season when the harvest was completed, a time of joy for the farmers as they gathered their food. At this moment, Xiulote stood on a hill, gazing southward.


    There was the edge of the Mexican Valley, with fields full of dried, yellow cornstalks, and one could vaguely see farmers busy in the fields, collecting the remnants of the crop. The monsoon brought with it the distinct fragrance of grain, the scent of a bountiful harvest. It was the land of the Mexica.


    On the Mexican Plateau, the corn harvest often began in mid-September and concluded by the end of September. This was the main sustenance for the farmers for the year, critical for their survival.


    Yet when he turned to continue northward, all he saw were continuous empty fields, plains full of withered grass, and a village turned to ashes by the surprise attacks of the Otomi, with the vague white bones scattered among them.


    These Otomi villages were destined to be destroyed in the flames of war. If they did not welcome the Otomi guerrillas, they would be destroyed as enemies. And once they did, the Mexicas¡¯ punishment would surely follow. Thus, this land, amidst the prolonged conflict, had turned into a ghostly realm devoid of people. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Bones exposed in the field, a thousand li without the crowing of a cock. This is the land of the Otomi," the youth sighed softly.


    Closer to the main force of the army, hundreds of emaciated, hunched fresh corpses lay scattered haphazardly. The vanguard samurais were in the process of replacing their worn obsidian blades.


    Just moments ago, the army¡¯s vanguard had been suddenly attacked by an Otomi guerrilla squad.


    Two or three hundred Otomi militiamen, barely clothed, wielding stone spears and wooden clubs, charged out of the woods in a wild, crazed roar. Driven by a few Otomi warriors, they slammed into the Jaguar warriors and the samurais at the forefront, only to be mercilessly beaten down by war clubs and turned into warm bodies upon the ground, causing not even a slight injury.


    They were like harmless moths that had fallen into a campfire, creating a popping sound as they burst into flames, and then turned to ashes.


    The militia had just engaged with the Mexica warriors. The warriors hiding at the rear did not hesitate, turning and fleeing into the forest. They had completed their task of leading the militia to their death.


    The howling of wild dogs echoed through the woods. Their eyes red, they had long feasted on corpses, and now drawn by the large-scale army, they trailed far behind. According to their sparse life experience, these dangerous bipedal beasts would fight each other and then bring them new sustenance, just as in the battle that had just ended.


    Xiulote wore a helmet that obscured his face, draped in the garb of a coyote priest, and grasping a yellow gemstone scepter. He stamped the ground ahead, feeling the earth had begun to dry and harden under the sunlight. Compared to the soft, sinking mud of the rainy season, this ground was much more comfortable to walk on and better suited for the warriors to fight.


    "Such an attack is utterly meaningless! With sparse trees and hard, dry ground, and clear skies without rain, the militia had no advantage in terrain; they were too few in number and couldn¡¯t possibly cause any harm to the Mexica warriors. The Otomi have lost their minds!"


    The youth glanced at the militiamen, thin as reeds. These farmers couldn¡¯t even truly be called soldiers. They were just weak and powerless, driven to madness by starvation.


    "The farmers must be having an extremely difficult time this year. With war drastically depleting the food supply, plus a whole year of famine, before the new year comes, at least three out of ten will have perished, with the rest hovering on the brink of death," Bertade reflected, the Head Warrior born of the common people empathized deeply with the plight of the farmers.


    "Even so, for the sake of war, the Otomi nobility will still take the last of the farmers¡¯ food, causing even more to starve to death. They need to fill the empty granaries from the siege, as well as their own dining tables."


    "So," Xiulote frowned slightly, "if we were to leave Xilotepec City, they wouldn¡¯t aid the local farmers but would instead desperately plunder to fill their own granaries?"


    "Of course! Xilotepec City was also under our siege for four months, and subsequently forced to surrender tributes for thirty years. Because of the siege, they failed to complete last year¡¯s harvest.


    This spring, they planted a little, and just two months ago, they harvested some pumpkins and soybeans, but it was a drop in the bucket. With the corn unharvested and the priests and nobility seizing the opportunity to rebel, fighting us once more. Now with both armies in stalemate, the fields are either barren or burned. Inside Xilotepec City, there¡¯s at most food for four more months!


    Without confiscating the food from the farmers, what will they do if our legions surround them again? To ensure their own survival, the nobility will heartlessly send the farmers to their deaths!


    Now is also the time they care least about casualties. The Otomi¡¯s crazed guerrilla warfare is a deliberate attempt to reduce the number of militia. Rather than having the militia consume food or die in vain, they¡¯d prefer to cause some damage to us, which is better than having starving people causing unrest. This is the reasoning of the nobility!"


    In Bertade¡¯s eyes was a calm but intense anger.


    After decades of campaigning, he had become accustomed to seeing the life and death of warriors but could not forgive the cruelty of the nobility or the hardships of the commoners. He yearned for change. Thinking of hope, the Head Warrior cast a silent glance at Xiulote and then fell silent.


    The youth furrowed his brows in deep thought. He remembered the temple calculations before the decisive battle, where Aweit had taught him what it meant to have the perspective of a commander. To a commander¡¯s mind, life was just a number for calculations.


    According to the original plan he and Aweit had devised, the army would negotiate with the Otomi people to rescue Casal and the three thousand warriors tasked with covering the rear, then exchange prisoners for food with the Otomi. After the negotiations, they would head south with the entire army, leaving Otomi lands and rapidly entering the capital city to officially assume the throne.


    Lastly, they would take control of the capital¡¯s food supply and win over Atotoztli¡¯s army of thirty thousand.


    But now, it seemed he needed to give some more thought to how to deal with Xilotepec City. The city-state had fallen into its most vulnerable state and was succumbing to its last bout of madness.


    The two hurried along their way, walking past the already cold bodies of the militia. The warriors hadn¡¯t bothered to spend time burying their enemies, nor had they showed any interest in the meager possessions that might be on the militia.


    The pack of wild dogs surged forward as soon as the troop of warriors had passed. They had been impatiently waiting. But this time, they didn¡¯t need to dig the bodies out of the ground with much effort.


    After silently pondering for a long time, the youth finally posed another question.


    "Given the food shortage, why would the nobility of Xilotepec City be so eager to instigate a rebellion? Are they really willing to sacrifice themselves for Otapan City?"


    Bertade looked toward the western mountains, where Otapan City lay. He thought about the intelligence they had so far.


    "The primary reason is hatred. The priests harbor a deep-rooted hatred for the Mexica legions, as do the nobility and the warriors," he said.


    The youth recalled the ritual plates being dragged away, the priests who swore oaths with cut faces, and the large pile of confiscated sacrifices, many of which bore the family crests of the nobility. Finally, there were the three thousand men offered as sacrifices and the relatives who wailed and followed after them.


    "In addition, Otapan City must have given them some promises, such as a supply of food or military support. If the Mexica army were to withdraw, they would also be able to plunder three to four months¡¯ worth of food from the nearby farmers and tribes, without leaving any survivors."


    The youth remembered the countless burning villages and fields below Otapan City, and the cruel night when tens of thousands of civilians were sent to their deaths. These were experiences he could not forget.


    "Otapan City still has surplus food? They were almost out of supplies," the youth expressed his disbelief.


    "What promises can a city-state make? When Otapan City was desperate, of course, they would resort to deceit and false promises. Now, they must also be vigorously scavenging from their own farmers, exhausting their own militia, and preparing for an attack from either the Mexica or the Tarascans."


    "As for the Tlaxcalans, setting aside whether or not they are willing to help, it is impossible for them to transport food to the Otomi before the way through Atotoztli is cleared," Bertade explained.


    The youth nodded in agreement. Although the prolonged siege had worn down the Mexica, the vast disparity in national power and the complete destruction of agriculture also left the Otomi out of resources. Xilotepec City could not count on the support that was promised.


    "Since Otapan City and Xilotepec City are not united, there is much to be gained. Let¡¯s handle them separately!"


    The civil war in Mexica had just ended, yet the external war with the Otomi continued. As the situations in the world change, so must everything else, and it all depends on how those who adapt to the circumstances act.


    After three days of rushed marching, the camps in the mountains once again came into view of Xiulote. Under the grand evening sun, the youth¡¯s command banner was proudly raised, along with the body of the king and the divine staff, as the army of four thousand marched with high spirits.


    In the distance, the scale of the mountain camps had once again expanded. A dense array of camps spread out, with the banners of different city-states waving among them.


    Tens of thousands of city-state warriors were stationed in the outer perimeter. They looked gaunt and weary from the journey yet still had the sharpness of warriors. They were now full of hope, lighting fires and cooking. The smoke rose from among the camps, reflecting the evening glow and foretelling a clear tomorrow.


    "It seems that the twenty thousand city-state warriors in the outer ring have already surrendered. Food is the lifeblood of an army; whoever controls food, controls the force of war!" the youth couldn¡¯t help smiling to himself.


    As the returning army approached, the warriors along the way came forward to greet them. They paid their respects to the coyote priest and the legion commander, and stole awed glances at the body of the king and the shining yellow gemstone scepter in the youth¡¯s hand.


    Xiluote, with the self-assured smile of a victor, nodded in response to each one.


    "Now our strength has grown! The warriors of Mexica will once again be united under the royal banner, making all enemies tremble with fear."

 Chapter 94 - 71: Feast of Resonance

    Back at the main camp, it was dinner time, and the air was filled with the enticing aroma of roasted corn cakes, the grassy smell of roasted amaranth, and the spicy scent of roasted chili peppers.


    Xiulote sniffed, a bit hungry from the journey, but he had pressing matters to attend to now. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He sent Bertade to arrange for the army to set up camp and prepare meals, Olosh to check on his father¡¯s injuries, and took Stanley with him to the central tent to report back on military affairs.


    As soon as he entered the tent, the young man saw Aweit sitting majestically on the throne. After a week apart, his friend had become even more composed, every move radiating the regalia of a king, his glance alone was enough to send chills down one¡¯s spine.


    Many commanders sat on either side of the tent, those directly under the royal authority on the left, and the city-state legion commanders on the right. The commanders quietly conversed among themselves, and big cups of cold cocoa were already placed on the simple wooden tables, indicating that the banquet was about to begin.


    Xiulote smiled slightly, noticing his old friend Acap also seated near Aweit.


    Acap looked a bit thinner but was vibrant. Before the decisive battle, he had been sent out to soothe and connect with the surrounding city-state legions. Seeing the tens of thousands of City-State Warriors near the main camp now, it seemed he had done quite well.


    Upon seeing the young man enter, Acap also showed joy and nodded at him.


    There were four seats near Aweit, one closest to him still empty. The remaining two were occupied by visitors from the capital city.


    The seat near the throne was occupied by a samurai in his thirties. He had a lean face with a square jaw, dignified demeanor, and a stern expression, his eyebrows exuded dominance. At that moment, he was slightly raising his head, carefully sizing up the young man entering the tent, his eyes sparkling with intellect and contemplation.


    The other seat held a young Priest in his twenties, oddly dressed in a Fifth-Level wolf Priest robe. His appearance was handsome, his face always carried a slight smile, which seemed uninviting yet possessed a worldly, aristocratic air. At this time, he was also curiously observing the young man.


    Seeing the young noble priest, Stanley behind him snorted heavily through his nose, showing a bit of disdain. The noble priest just pursed his lips, not sparing Stanley a glance.


    Then two samurais entered, carrying the body of Tizoc and placing it in the center of the large tent. The autumn on the Highland was not cold, and since Tizoc had been dead for three days, the body had begun to emit a faint odor of decay.


    The tent instantly fell silent. The front row of legion commanders wore complex expressions, and the higher-ranking samurais stood up to inspect the body. All the commanders stared at the body of the former king, silent for a moment.


    "King, Tizoc has fallen in battle, Totec has also taken his own life. We were fortunately not disgraced on our mission southwards; you are now the sole king!"


    Xiulote knelt on one knee, bowed his head slightly, holding the Divine Staff in both hands. In such a formal setting with all division commanders present, it was imperative to maintain the King¡¯s majesty.


    The tent filled with legion commanders suddenly burst into exclamations. It seemed only at that moment, upon hearing the young man¡¯s report directly, could they believe that Tizoc was truly dead, that the body before them was indeed their king.


    Excitement flashed in Aweit¡¯s eyes as he rose from the throne, walked over, and gently took the Divine Staff, handing it to a guard behind him, then lifted the young man up with both hands.


    "You have worked hard on this expedition! You deserve the foremost credit in this battle!"


    The king loudly praised, holding Xiulote¡¯s hand, his sharp gaze sweeping across all the commanders in the tent.


    "This is my beloved commander Xiulote! He is the grandson of the High Priest Xutel of the Holy City, my dearest student, and also the fianc¨¦ of my eldest daughter! Come, let everyone drink this cup, to honor our triumphant warrior!"


    The commanders in the tent were solemn. They picked up the cocoa from the tables, stood up together, and were just about to toast when they hesitated for a moment, looking at each other: how should they address him?


    It was the stern samurai at the head of the table who reacted the fastest, grasping the essence. He approached, raising his ceramic cup above his chest, bowed his head solemnly: "To his Highness!"


    The crowd then together bowed deeply: "To his Highness!" and then drained the large cups of icy cocoa.


    The bright red juice of the cocoa dripped from the commanders¡¯ lips, a beverage for samurais and nobility, also a gift from the gods. The icy cocoa was mixed with specially prepared fruit juice for coloring, and honey, spices, and chili pepper for flavoring, much like the blood of the gods.


    The commanders saluted loudly, giving the young man a strange sensation, akin to the buzz of being slightly drunk.


    He remained firm, bowed his head in return, smelling the sweet aroma of honey in the air, the spicy scent of the spices, and the sharpness of the chili pepper. Recalling the bitter, spicy, and sweet taste of the cold cocoa, his heart twitched slightly, his expression turned bitter. However, the slight drunken sensation had quickly faded away.


    Only then did Aweit approach Tizoc¡¯s body, looking at the pale, blood-stained face and smelling the faint scent of death. His elation slowly receded, his eyes gradually revealing profound sadness.


    After all, this was his sibling¡¯s younger brother, with whom he had shared over a decade of childhood warmth. Although they had later become enemies due to power struggles, the warm memories of the past could not be erased.


    "Perhaps, only when facing a dead enemy, a body posing no threat, does the warmth flow again from the heart of a king, coating the cruel struggles for power with a tender veil," reflected Xiulote, watching his deeply saddened friend.


    "Bringing back such a body is indeed better than bringing back a brother who would eventually be turned into a corpse by Aweit. At least this way, I can preserve a bit more warmth for my friend!"


    It was a long while before Aweit awakened from his reminiscences. His eyes regained their usual indifference.

 Chapter 95 - 71 Banquet_2

    "The old King is dead; all his sins will naturally be judged by the gods. Take the body away and let the Priests embalm it¡ªwe will have to carry it back to the Capital City and bury it in the Royal Family¡¯s graveyard."


    "Make sure to let every camp¡¯s Commander and Captain take a look, so they can confirm that Tizoc is indeed dead!"


    The trusted aide bowed his head to take the orders and then carried the body out of the tent. Life returned to the tent, now even more spirited and excited than before.


    Aweit warmly pulled the youth close to the throne. Acap, solemn Samurai, and a noble Priest, all three greeted him together.


    "Come, Xiulote, let me introduce you."


    With one hand, Aweit held the youth¡¯s hand, and with the other, he forcefully pulled the solemn Samurai¡¯s arm. The solemn Samurai quickly bowed his head to show respect to the King.


    "This is my loyal Samurai, Gillim, of hereditary nobility, who has followed me for over twenty years. Last year, he was in the Capital City planning the grand strategy for me. The two thousand family Samurai in the Ktotoko reinforcements were his arrangements.


    Gillim¡¯s hard work over the years has been of high merit. The ease with which we won the battle for the army was largely thanks to him! Now that he is here to help me plan, he will be in charge of the army¡¯s intelligence work."


    Hearing Aweit¡¯s praises, Gillim again bowed solemnly, paying his respects to the King. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote felt a stir in his heart upon hearing this; this was a close confidant of his friend, the future intelligence chief.


    Since Aweit started his uprising, and with no need to worry about Tizoc¡¯s suspicions, the old subordinates from the Tarasco campaign had been gathering. Xiulote had met many commanders, but Gillim was the only one receiving such a grand introduction today, which spoke volumes of his status in Aweit¡¯s heart.


    The youth also bowed his head, clenched his fist, and solemnly saluted Gillim.


    Then Gillim once again returned the salute with serious sincerity.


    Seeing the two exchange such formal salutes, the young noble Priest next to them chuckled and teased.


    "Since we are all eagles, there¡¯s no need to flutter like turkeys¡ªlet¡¯s soar directly!"


    Hearing this, Gillim remained silent.


    Xiulote smiled and nodded to acknowledge the young Priest.


    Yet in his heart, Xiulote was puzzled: Where did this wealthy young master come from? Unworldly enough to liken both me and Gillim to turkeys? Indeed, more reckless and naive than me."


    Aweit also smiled at these words. Holding onto Xiulote with one hand, he used the other to point at the young noble and introduced him.


    "This is one of the six Elders of the Chief Priesthood at the Great Temple, the youngest son of Uguel, from the hereditary nobility of the Royal City, Ugus. He is currently the Fifth Level Earth Wolf Priest in the Capital. He has joined the army as a War Priest, coming specially to contribute to the Alliance."


    Hearing key information about the Chief Priesthood and the six Elders, the youth pondered and had a realization. He glanced at Aweit, and the friend slightly nodded. The youth then looked back at Ugus with a smile spreading across his face.


    "I¡¯ve heard about His Highness¡¯s reputation upon arriving at the camp. Seeing you today, you indeed have remarkable looks, truly like a florid Samurai." Ugus commented reservedly on Xiulote.


    Gillim also nodded solemnly in approval.


    "Your Highness¡¯s development of siege engines and Longbows truly shows your ingenuity. The creation of writing shows your profound scholarship. Raising the slogan to end the war in the camp reveals your deep understanding of human nature. This time, killing the old King and forcing the Great General to his death, you¡¯ve shown extraordinary bravery.


    Let me honor you with another cup of cocoa, wishing that the heart of the Scholar never falters, the wisdom of the Wise never alters, and the heart of the Samurai ever endures!"


    Having said this, Gillim refilled a cup with mixed cocoa, held the clay cup solemnly above his forehead, and drank it down in one gulp.


    Seeing Gillim do this, the youth could only sigh lightly. He too filled a cup with mixed cocoa, respectfully drank it, and instantly felt spirited. Sweetness filled his mouth and nose, bitterness lingered on his tongue, heat burned his chest and belly, and his heart twitched again. It was indeed too much!


    Aweit watched the two¡¯s formalities with a smile.


    He chuckled inwardly, knowing that Xiulote usually only drank hot cocoa with honey and was particularly sensitive to chili and spices. The youth¡¯s silent writhing expression couldn¡¯t escape his notice.


    "Though cocoa is a drink for nobility and Samurai, it has after all fallen to the mundane; the Priests of the Great Temple do not favor it." Ugus also took a sip of cocoa and continued to join the conversation.


    "I once drank the Holy Water from the Chief Priesthood of the Great Temple in the Holy City. That is the true gift from the gods, requiring a three-day fast before it can be consumed. Each time after drinking it, I felt as if about to soar, sharing joyous moments with the deities, without the headache left by divine smoke, truly an unparalleled treasure."


    The youth was startled; it sounded like some kind of special Potion that brought about a pleasant mood. Out of curiosity, he asked, "Where does the Holy Water come from? And how can one drink it?"


    Ugus smiled mysteriously, a look of self-satisfaction in his eyes.


    He looked toward Aweit and bowed: "The Holy Water, of course, comes from a divine gift. Once the esteemed King attends the coronation in the Capital City, the Chief Priesthood will naturally present it with respect!"


    Aweit laughed heartily, patting Ugus on the shoulder. Xiulote quietly took note of the name "Holy Water."


    The feast began shortly thereafter. During the war, there wasn¡¯t much luxury in food, but there was a variety of dishes in ample portions.


    Xiulote first ate a slice of corn tortilla with cochineal cactus. This type of cactus was a favorite of the cochineal insects, offering a tender and crisp taste with a refreshing sweetness. It was served to whet the appetite and line the stomach.


    Then he spread open a burrito, adding delicious huitlacoche, fragrant forest mushrooms, hot grilled venison, and topped it all with fresh wild honey. After rolling it carefully, he took a bite¡ªjuicy and crisp, sweet but not cloying, with a light pleasant fragrance. This was the youth¡¯s favorite main dish.

 Chapter 96 - 71 Banquet_3

    After feeling about sixty percent full, the young man picked up two more skewers of fresh pineapple grilled meat and sprinkled them with a light chili powder. The sour and sweet pineapple invigorated him, and the slightly spicy turkey, after being grilled, carried a hint of crunchy skin, and was savory and tender enough to be a satisfying side dish.


    Then, after some thought, the young man ladled himself a bowl of tomato and mushroom soup. He still preferred the slight acidity of the tomatoes and the smooth freshness of the mushrooms. This, he considered, was a good soup to have after the meal. Feeling now about ninety percent full.


    Lastly, the young man hesitated for a long time between the sweet cactus fruits and the chocolate flavored with herbs, but in the end, he chose two kinds of cactus fruit, for it was October, and the cactus fruits had just ripened.


    He chilled the cactus fruits slightly with well water, then broke open their skin and took a bite.


    The greenish-white flesh yielded a clear, sweet juice, reminiscent of summer watermelons, while the purplish-red flesh contained a sticky sweetness, more akin to autumn¡¯s dragon fruit. Then, a light floating sensation rose in the young man¡¯s mind, the unique faint hallucinogenic effect of the cactus fruit, bringing with it a moment of dreaminess.


    As the banquet reached its most jovial point, after everyone had partaken of tequila, the great tent became boisterous.


    Aweit then rose from his throne, waving his Divine Staff like a War Club tilted at an angle, beginning the ritual of the War Dance.


    The leaders of each City-State and their direct subordinates then understood and rose to their feet.


    The Samurai stood in lines, chanting in unison, like the cries of eagles and roars of tigers, brandishing shields and War Clubs. They stomped with exuberant steps, occasionally striking one another, raising the roar of battle, then adeptly avoiding collision, forcefully stamping the ground, displaying agility and strength in their movements. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Stanley beat upon the heavy war drum, its resonant beats pulsing with the fervor of battle.


    Acap played the soft, beautiful flute, the sound wafting far into the heavens and earth.


    Xiulote sang the ancient divine music, the clear and lofty melodies echoing with the desolation of antiquity.


    Ugus hummed an elegant lament, his graceful song outlining the shifting seasons.


    This was the Samurai¡¯s celebration of battle, their remembrance of ancestors. The vast lands they traversed, the changing seasons in their myriad colors, all unfolded like picturesque memories from the past, intertwining through everyone¡¯s hearts like rivers.


    The generals then danced wholeheartedly in the War Dance, bonding through the movements, singing out loud in unison, blending voices indistinguishably. They continued until they drew close, lost in exhilaration without reserve. In their wildest shouts, they wept and sang of their fierce passion!


    This was the communion and emotion of the Samurai, lost, slightly drunk, gradually forgetting themselves, leaving only the collective spirit of battle!


    Xiulote also sang and drank heartily. In his cheer, he tossed aside his clay cup, seized Stanley¡¯s drum, and started to bang out Kitaro¡¯s feastful music! The young man echoed back with millennia-old roars, then unknowingly collapsed to the ground, drunk.


    When he awoke, the night breeze carried a slight chill, Aweit¡¯s cloak laid upon him. He looked around the tent, filled with other generals sprawled out in drunkenness, then towards the head, where Aweit sat on the throne, smiling.


    "My unparalleled Samurai, how did you find this evening¡¯s banquet?"


    Just waking, the young man¡¯s heart was still filled with the joy and wildness of the feast.


    He laughed heartily, praising,


    "With wine cheer, draw sword and rise to sing, Lyrics fierce enough to shake heaven and earth.


    Ambitions deep with great achievements assured; a conqueror¡¯s heart still yearning for the support of valiant warriors.


    Lads follow my voice, soaring high, What passion and spiritedness as we all dance around!"


    Aweit chuckled,


    "Xiulote, no need to speak words I don¡¯t understand. Was the banquet to your liking? Was it good or not?"


    "It was excellent! Before today¡¯s banquet, I brought Tizoc¡¯s body to project power, and the generals respected and obeyed, yet couldn¡¯t help feeling uneasy.


    The banquet was so enjoyable, leaders from City-States and subordinates gathered happily, Priests and Samurai drinking and singing together. It opened the generals¡¯ hearts, dispelling any grudges."


    "After the banquet, everyone¡¯s hearts have aligned with you!"


    Xiulote then clapped in admiration, "Even I got drunk by you tonight, revealing such unrestrained behavior, it¡¯s unimaginable!"


    "No! No! I have never been so wild," the young man suddenly realized, "Aweit, did you drug this wine?!"


    The King on the throne smiled without a word. Gillim then emerged from the shadows behind the throne, bowing deeply to the young man, offering a solemn apology.

 Chapter 97 - 72 Discussing Affairs

    Xiulote watched Gillim bowing in apology and immediately understood the reason behind it. This time, he did not return the bow. His heart became wary, and he was very cautious of Gillim.


    Despite his vigilance towards Gillim, the young man did not glance at the head of intelligence again.


    After a moment of thought, he grabbed Aweit¡¯s arm and complained with a helpless expression, "Aweit, you actually drugged me! At least give me a heads-up."


    The King¡¯s smile instantly stiffened. He tilted his head slightly, looking somewhat guiltily towards the head of intelligence.


    "This is just a bit of the hallucinogenic potion that the priests often use to open hearts, foster trust, relax and get intoxicated, and to make the party more enjoyable. Your Highness, rest assured, the dosage is very small and is harmless to the robust body of a samurai. This was my suggestion, and I apologize to your Highness once again!"


    Gillim continued to bow in apology. His demeanor was solemn, as if dealing with state affairs, with a kind of inward frankness.


    Xiulote looked at Gillim¡¯s frank expression, thought for a while, and then lowered his head to return the bow.


    He smiled bitterly in his heart, thinking that Aweit¡¯s old subordinate was indeed no simple man, having knocked everyone out at their first meeting. Conducting transparent state affairs with the heart of a gentleman, yet employing any means necessary. If only he were still simple and loved his work...


    The young man continued to look at Gillim¡¯s plain samurai robe and meticulous gear, suddenly feeling a sense of familiarity. After a moment, he rated the head of intelligence as the highest level of danger in his mind. He secretly marked him: a saint who could survive on just water, bread, and work.


    Aweit chuckled and rose from his throne. He grabbed the two men by the arm and ordered his trusted aide to wake the soundly sleeping Acap.


    Acap, still suffering from his hangover, seemed a bit dazed. He absentmindedly accepted a bowl of tomato juice to sober up, drank it in one go, then rubbed his forehead, slowly coming to his senses.


    "Tonight¡¯s party was truly enjoyable! I have never been so intoxicated before. It seems that celebrating victory together with everyone is truly one of life¡¯s pleasures!"


    Seeing the three people waiting for him, Acap¡¯s gentle face flushed. He continued to hold his forehead, still feeling somewhat dizzy.


    Xiulote instinctively glanced at Gillim, but the latter¡¯s expression remained unchanged, solemn and dignified.


    Aweit smiled lightly, "Let¡¯s go, we should discuss the follow-up plans in the side tent."


    Upon entering the side tent, the bonfire had already been lit. The four men settled down around the fire pit.


    The last discussion had been before the decisive battle when everyone was filled with excitement and tension. But now, everything had changed. The young man, looking at the calm faces around him, felt a surge of exhilaration from within, a confidence and anticipation for the future.


    Military power is the foundation of war. Everyone first discussed the casualties of the battle and the remaining military strength.


    "In the battle of the Twin Kings, over three hundred of the King¡¯s family warriors were killed, Tizoc¡¯s Tonsured Guards were reduced to eighty, neither side¡¯s nobility battle group was injured, dozens among the directly-subordinated warriors died in battle, and over four hundred suffered minor injuries. After this battle, Tizoc¡¯s thousand Eagle Warrior Battalion and seven thousand directly-subordinated surrendered, and about ten thousand militia also joined us."


    Gillim respectfully reported the compiled numbers. His mathematics were excellent, and Aweit was all too happy to leave the tedious task of counting to him.


    "The militaries of the peripheral city-states have surrendered one after another. However, due to lack of food and guerrilla warfare, the city-state militaries suffered severe losses and now also need to recuperate. Of the twenty thousand city-state warriors returning from the great camp of Otapan, only seventeen thousand remain. The Teotihuacan battalion suffered the most. Four thousand warriors had a difficult journey and also participated in the decisive battle, now only a little over three thousand are left."


    Acap reported earnestly, glancing at Xiulote, who also looked up at him. Their eyes met, both feeling a bit distressed.


    Aweit pondered for a moment, then reached out to pat Xiulote¡¯s shoulder.


    "The Teotihuacan battalion exerted a great effort in this battle! Battalion Leader Xiuxoke was also wounded in the camp. I have already sent the best War Priest to treat him. I will promote Battalion Leader Xiuxoke to Third Level Honored Nobility, grant him two wealthy lakeside villages, give six thousand lengths of cloth to the three thousand warriors, and I will also replenish the lost thousand warriors for him!"


    Xiulote then bowed once again in gratitude, thanking the King on behalf of his father.


    Watching the two of them getting along so well, Gillim¡¯s gaze lingered on Aweit and the young man¡¯s faces, silently pondering something.


    Only after the young man finished his bow did Gillim begin to report again.


    "Your Majesty, we now have two thousand nobility battle groups, twenty-seven thousand directly-subordinated, twenty-five thousand city-state, a total of fifty-four thousand warriors at our disposal! Plus nearly fifty thousand militia. Three-quarters of the entire Mexica Alliance¡¯s strength is gathered in our hands, an invincible large army unmatched by any force in the world. Congratulations to Your Majesty!"


    Hearing the number of fifty-four thousand warriors, Xiulote was extremely exhilarated. He looked at Aweit and Acap, whose faces were full of bold and confident smiles.


    However, Gillim¡¯s face was still solemn as he performed a congratulatory bow, continuing to speak with seriousness.


    "However, this war with the Otomi has already persisted for a year and a half. The warriors are mentally exhausted, and their morale has long been yearning for home."


    "During the lengthy siege beneath Otapan City, we lost over four thousand Samurai, and in the standoff against the Tarasco at the banks of the Lerma River, we lost another thousand Samurai. On the retreat from Otapan City, three thousand City-State Warriors became scattered and lost, or were captured due to lack of provisions. Then in the civil war within the Royal Family, eight hundred elite Samurai perished. Adding to other scattered skirmishes, this campaign has already cost us a full nine thousand Mexica warriors!"


    "Casal currently leads three thousand personal warriors encamped in the mountains to the far west, facing off against the several thousand Ottopan Warriors led by Jiowar. As for the loss of the militia, while not as significant, it surely exceeds twenty thousand."


    Xiulote nodded his head. In this Otomi campaign, actually only half of the fallen warriors perished in battle. More than half of the casualties during the siege under Otapan City died from the harsh environment of the rainy season and diseases caused by the unfamiliar land and water. The dispersion of the warriors during the army¡¯s retreat was also due to the difficult mountain forest marching conditions.


    Out of nine thousand warrior casualties, nearly four thousand were lost to the harsh and difficult mountain forests during the rainy season, and to starvation caused by the harsh environment. The Otomi¡¯s guerrilla tactics amplified the power of the environment. This showed how greatly the terrain and the environment could impact the army¡¯s losses.


    In fact, once the two armies formed up for battle, the battle-hardened Mexica warriors were often able to win with fewer numbers. With higher training and bolder morale, they managed to achieve an impressive kill ratio with fewer losses! Just like the youth¡¯s first battle, as well as the battle at the Lerma River."


    "This time heading south, I¡¯ve received new information from the twenty thousand dispersed warriors. The naval forces have already retrieved six thousand militia from the banks of the Lerma River. Of the four thousand militia casualties, two thousand were killed or captured, and another two thousand are lost, scattered in the mountain forests on the north coast of the Lerma River, with their specific situation unknown.


    The naval forces are now waiting at a rivermouth three days to the south for further orders."


    "The Tarasco arrived at the river crossing quite late, and they did not overly pursue the retreating militia. They merely occupied the riverside camp, peering at the weakened Otapan City, waiting for news from the Mexica main army.


    I think it¡¯s very likely that the Tarasco will continue the siege of Otapan. Relying on Cuitzeo Lake and the Lerma River, their supply lines are much more convenient, and now it is the dry season. Otapan¡¯s food supplies are estimated to last only three more months, and the Otomi are frantically scouring for food. The Otomi City-States further west and north must also be organizing aid."


    Xiulote was reporting the latest intelligence from the Lerma River basin.


    Aweit frowned in thought ¨C whether to allow the Tarasco to besiege Otapan City was ultimately a boon or a bane? He hoped to exhaust the forces of both sides as much as possible without really letting the Tarasco pick the peaches and completely conquer the Otomi.


    Now out of reach, the King did not consider for too long. He burst out laughing, encouraging his three trusted aides:


    "This expedition indeed suffered heavy losses, but our enemy¡¯s losses are even greater! We have thoroughly decimated the Otomi¡¯s four states. Their warriors have fallen by over ten thousand, and the population of the villages has been halved.


    For years to come, the Otomi will be plagued by famine, unable to support the current number of warriors. They will not recover for a whole two generations. They can no longer pose a threat! Similarly, the Tarasco also have not gained any advantage. They lost a good ten thousand elite militia and a thousand warriors by the river."


    Hearing this, Acap laughed in agreement, and Gillim nodded seriously.


    The youth¡¯s expression did not change, but a sigh resonated in his heart: "Striving for land through war, bodies fill the fields; contending for cities through war, bodies fill the cities. The war has been fought for two years, and famine has already begun. Of the original one million Otomi, definitely no more than four hundred thousand will remain."


    Gillim bowed again and earnestly advanced his opinion.


    "Additionally, the gathering of a large army presents a major problem of daily food supply!


    The news of the Royal Family¡¯s civil war should be on its way to the capital, and this will inevitably affect the transportation of the army¡¯s food supplies. We currently have enough food for one hundred and twenty thousand people for one month. With less loss of food storage during the dry season, a little over ten percent is lost monthly, and transportation losses depend on the distance. I estimate the food can last the army for one month.


    And now, to save on the consumption of provisions, I have two suggestions: first, to move the main army to the Xilotepec camp, relying on the convenient water routes for transportation. Second, to disband most of the militia and decommission the mountain camps.


    At the same time, Your Majesty once promised the warriors to end the war, allowing them to return home. The King cannot easily break his promise, and disbanding some warriors is also imperative!


    And the most crucial matter is for Your Majesty to quickly organize the army and head south directly to Tenochtitlan, the city in the lake. To formally ascend the throne in the capital, take control of the heart of the Alliance! Possessing the capital city means controlling the people¡¯s hearts, and possessing the capital¡¯s large granaries means controlling the army.


    Once the capital is in our hands, controlling the Alliance¡¯s food supplies, the sixteen thousand warriors of the Atotoztli state facing the Tlaxcala on the front line, including the four groups each of eight thousand warriors, will pledge their allegiance automatically!"


    Xiulote nodded in approval and also put forward a new suggestion:


    "We can negotiate with Otapan City, but Xilotepec City should be besieged.


    For one, Xilotepec City is in extreme food shortage, with a maximum of only four months¡¯ worth of reserves left. Two, it has the advantage of connected water routes, which is convenient for food transport and easier for direct control by the capital. Three, by conquering this place and stationing troops, we could completely expel the Otomi back to the western mountains, while also intimidating the Vastec people in the north. And four, it would serve as punishment for Xilotepec City¡¯s betrayal of the Alliance.


    If we miss this opportunity, waiting to besiege Xilotepec City again after they have replenished their food will lead to a prolonged siege, facing unpredictable changes."


    Aweit nodded slightly, deep in thought. Everything awaited the King¡¯s decision.


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 Chapter 98 - 73: Discussing Matters Part 2

    The bonfire flickered, and all around was silence, save for the sound of the Samurai patrolling. In a blink, it was deep into the night.


    Xiulote quietly watched his friend¡¯s contemplative face, patiently waiting. Great achievers strategize in secret chambers, downfall comes from negligence. True decisions of national importance are agreed upon within the core leadership of just a few people, then carried out by a dedicated team. A slight inclination at the center of power could determine the lives and deaths of thousands.


    After a long while, Aweit¡¯s face became stern; an undeniable decision had been made:


    "Deploy the legion, call for the surrender and rescue of Casal¡¯s three thousand direct subordinates. Send envoys to negotiate with the pursuing Otapan army. Also, send an envoy to contact King Uncle Tizoc of Atotoztli, inform him of Tizoc¡¯s death, and ask for his allegiance, promising his status remains unchanged.


    I will connect with City-State commanders for a few days to foster relationships, then move the main army to the Xilotepec encampment. There, I will gather the dispersed direct Samurai. Dissolve the City-State Warrior groups and thirty thousand Militia.


    I will promise land, recruit volunteers from the remaining City-State Warriors, separate those directly under the Royal Family, assembling twelve thousand Samurai and fifteen thousand Militia to continue the blockade of Xilotepec City.


    Send people to recall the boat brigade, leave several small boats for early warning along the Lerma River, and incidentally pick up lost Militia. The large contingent of the boat brigade should immediately bypass Lake Texcoco, arriving swiftly at the riverside camp from Tampen River.


    Once the boat brigade converges, I will lead over twenty thousand Samurai directly under the Royal Family southward, advancing by land and water, towards the Lake Capital City!"


    Three people saluted and received the orders. The chaotic situation had been clarified. With the decision made, Mexica¡¯s war machine was about to turn anew.


    Aweit considered for a moment more. Then, he took Xiulote¡¯s hand warmly and said.


    "Xiulote, you just returned from the south having captured the king, and I had intended to let you rest for a couple of days. But on reflection, I need you to lead the army to the western encampment. Your status is sufficient to summon Casal, and at the same time, represent me in negotiations with the Otomi people."


    The young man nodded firmly in agreement, a commander must mature in constant warfare. Low-intensity conflicts are indeed the best way to train such novice commanders.


    "How many Warriors do you have now?"


    "Eighty Tonsured Guards, one hundred and ten Longbow Guards, two hundred Holy City Jaguars, seven hundred Copper Spears Samurai, three thousand directly under the Royal Family," the young man calculated in his mind, down to the digits.


    Aweit smiled.


    "Leave the Tonsured Guard and the Copper Spears Samurai to me. As the army converges, I need to strengthen the loyalty of the central forces. Teotihuacan¡¯s three thousand Samurai are now yours. The original four thousand direct Samurai from the Xilotepec encampment are also yours.


    I want to keep Stanley here. Balda has already surrendered, so I assign him to you, as he is Casal¡¯s deputy general, just right for the call to surrender Casal.


    After the past two weeks of pressure, that monkey-like Kuluka has been subdued enough, now also yours. He has served as a commander in the large camp, you can let him manage these four thousand Samurai. Whether as a commander or as an adjutant is up to you to decide. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Also, we recently made some longbows, so the Longbow Guard is supplemented back up to one hundred and fifty men. This gives you over ten thousand Mexica Warriors. Jiowar of the Otapan City-State has at most seven thousand Otomi Warriors, which should be enough for you to suppress him."


    The young man loudly accepted the command, his joy tinged with trepidation.


    This time, he was actually to command over ten thousand Warriors! He knew his skills were not yet at that level, but with Bertade, Olosh, Kuluka, and Balda as seasoned generals to support him, managing the campaign was less of a concern. He would soon assign specific commanding officer positions, just keeping a few generals close, and then lead while learning on the job.


    Acap¡¯s face was filled with a joyful smile. Leading over ten thousand Warriors was far beyond a commander. Holy City Teotihuacan could muster at most five thousand Warriors. Mexica¡¯s power center in the tri-cities of the capital, in that densely populated Lake Region, supported by the vast population were tens of thousands of Warriors.


    Gillim¡¯s solemn expression finally showed surprise.


    He respectably saluted and advised: "Your Majesty, a thirteen-year-old legion commander leading over ten thousand troops, this has never happened before in the history of the Alliance!"


    Aweit smiled and waved his hand: "Xiulote is a born strategist, not an ordinary young man. His recent southern victory also ensures that his prestige is sufficient to command respect. Besides, the main strategy this time is to win by position, not to engage in fierce battles. Gillim, you need not worry!"


    Seeing the king¡¯s resolved decision, Gillim could only bow deeply in salute, saying no more.


    "Xiulote, do you know who this Jiowar is that you will face?" Aweit smiled at the young man.


    "Jiowar? Who is he?" The young man only knew of this man from what his father had told him.


    "He was the commanding officer of the opposing Otapan legion during your first battle, when you followed me as just a Priest. Just over a year has passed, and now it¡¯s your turn to command the large army, to lead Casal and Balda to suppress Jiowar. How is that, haven¡¯t I treated you well?"


    Aweit reached up and gently touched the young man¡¯s head, his eyes showing a rare tenderness, almost affectionate.


    "Aweit, you¡¯re really great!" The young man looked around, Acap and Gillim were slightly bowing their heads in thought, watching the flickering bonfire. He hesitated for a moment, then quickly embraced his dear friend, before resuming his formal posture.


    Aweit smiled gently, showing a touch of satisfaction, then again assumed the king¡¯s seriousness.


    "All is settled, let¡¯s end today¡¯s council here! Xiulote, make time to see your father. Time is pressing, as the army departs tomorrow."

 Chapter 99 - 73 Discuss Affairs Part 2

    Xiulote nodded and bowed to bid farewell to Aweit. He gave his friend a smile and hurried out of the tent.


    There were no women with them on the march; the generals in the tent were all cared for by guards and covered with cotton blankets, sleeping soundly.


    Outside the tent was a sky full of stars, the brilliant Milky Way streaking across. Under this starry sky, what else was happening in another corner of the world?


    Xiulote looked toward the East, where the brightest star, decked in a pale orange hue, was Jupiter. The young man nodded; seeing Jupiter meant it was already past ten o¡¯clock. It was known as Father Zeus in Roman mythology, the Star of Fortune in Huaxia mythology, and the Great Teacher in Hindu mythology.


    Under the starry sky, there were always pioneers leading the progress of civilization. Whether it was Europe, which had opened the Era of Great Navigations, or America where civilization was just beginning to flourish.


    In a fleeting thought, the young man hastened his steps again. He walked to the camp of Teotihuacan, searching for the commander¡¯s tent. Familiar guards greeted him, wearing an awe in their expressions that he did not recognize.


    Entering the tent, Xiulote first saw his father lying on a wooden bed, wrapped up like a bundle. He was startled and quickly grabbed his father¡¯s hand with force.


    "Father, who did this?"


    "Who else but your teacher Olosh," Xiuxoke said, looking somewhat pale but still spirited.


    "My son, this journey south, you have captured and killed Tizoc and Totec, and now you are renowned among the Mexica Samurai. But be wary of the Nobility Samurai of the Royal Family, their relationship with Tizoc is unclear. Just like this tree you have drawn on the wood, the taller it grows, the easier it is to break."


    "I will be careful, Father!" Xiulote casually laughed. He considered himself a representative of historical progress. Those who obstructed the progress of history would ultimately be abandoned.


    The constant victories had indeed made the young man arrogant.


    Olosh, sitting beside, scoffed and threw the wooden plank with Chinese characters onto a pile of grass.


    "Xiulote has arrived, no need to stare at these headache-inducing characters anymore. Finish speaking and hurry up to sleep!"


    Xiuxoke smiled faintly. Only then did the young man notice Olosh sitting across the fire, having just held up the wooden plank to entertain the immobile Xiuxoke with Chinese characters.


    "Father, what do you think of these characters? How is learning them?"


    "These characters are quite good. They manage to record a lot accurately and explain things clearly without needing anyone to speak or translate, although they are a bit difficult. Even I find them hard to learn, let alone your teacher Olosh!" Xiuxoke said, unable to move his torso, but still nodding in approval.


    "You make it sound as if you are much smarter than I am," Olosh grumbled from the side, "Although I have only recognized a few characters these past two days, you haven¡¯t done much better. You forgot what you learned on the first day by the third day! Isn¡¯t that the same?"


    Xiulote sighed softly; it was indeed difficult for Samurai who wielded weapons and did not study, to learn Chinese characters.


    Once the major tasks were completed, he planned to first recruit a group of children and youths for education. He intended definitely to introduce writing in the Calmecac Nobility School, then to popularize it to the Telpochcalli commoner military school, and eventually to establish a complete educational system. The localization of simplified phonetic spelling of Chinese characters also needed to be expedited.


    "My son, where exactly did you get this system of writing?"


    The young man¡¯s face flushed slightly: "I invented it myself."


    "Ha ha, my son, lovely as a mountain cat! I have watched you grow up since you were little. Though you are much smarter than other children, you are not at the level to invent writing spontaneously. Look at these combination forms, look at these writing norms, certainly the result of centuries of research, passed down from generation to generation.


    Did you encounter the legacy of the forebears? Or was it a gift from the Heavenly Divine?"


    Watching his father¡¯s smiling inquiry, the young man somehow also smiled.


    "A gift from the Heavenly Divine, I suppose. During the days of the campaign, I had some strange dreams. A Heavenly Divine from the distant Great Lake in the West came to me; he had black hair and yellow skin like us, as well as the same black eyes, but he had four eyes. His eyes could see through all the mist and darkness, through the stars and the earth.


    The Heavenly Divine watched all things in the world and whispered to me how to write. He taught me a hundred characters every night, instructing me for an entire Maya month, until I had learned two thousand characters. Then he flew up to the sky from the dream and went towards the prosperous Celestial Empire, twenty thousand leagues to the west. Before he left, he told me that one day, I must travel to the west, to seek the origin of the dream!"


    Xiuxoke listened solemnly to the myths from his son¡¯s mouth, his expression focused and grave.


    Only after hearing his son¡¯s tale did Xiuxoke speak carefully, "A Heavenly Divine with four eyes? Could it be the Giants of the First Era? Since you have accepted the Heavenly Divine¡¯s gift, you must fulfill the Heavenly Divine¡¯s demand! S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Twenty thousand leagues is too distant, possibly requiring ten years to travel. You are still young and have experienced little; you cannot make such a journey. Once you marry the princess and everything settles down, I will undertake it for you!"


    Watching his father¡¯s earnest and resolute gaze, hearing his unhesitating promise, and thinking about his current injuries that left him unable to move, the young man couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of emotion and buried his head on his father¡¯s body, whispering softly.


    "Father, I won¡¯t let you go. The Heavenly Divine said the west is a boundless Great Lake, and without a ship, no one can cross it. Let¡¯s leave this task to future generations!"

 Chapter 100 - 73 Discussion Below_3

    Having experienced so many life-and-death changes, father and son seemed to have endless conversations, with Olosh occasionally interjecting a sentence or two, warming up even the campfire inside the tent.


    Meanwhile, in another side tent, the campfire had gradually died out, and the tent became ice cold. In the empty side tent, Aweit sat upon the throne, examining two different Divine Staffs. Whenever he looked at the Divine Staff with the Yellow Gemstone, his brows would involuntarily furrow.


    "Your Majesty, there¡¯s no need to rush," Gillim kneeled in the shadow of the throne. "Ugus¡¯s arrival signifies the split of the six-person Priesthood of the Great Temple, and Uguel is the best weapon against the Chief Priest."


    "Hmm, Uguel can indeed replace Quetzal," Aweit nodded with a frosty expression, "but I don¡¯t want either of them."


    "Your Majesty, the influence of divine power has been passed down for a long time and cannot be eliminated in one day. We need to support the prestige of the High Priesthood, stripping the power and lands of the Chief Priesthood. However, the Chief Priesthood itself still needs to remain, the two Priesthoods should check and balance each other, and we cannot allow the divine authority to unify and further threaten the royal power," Gillim¡¯s voice remained steady. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After a moment of silence, Aweit nodded silently.


    Possibly encouraged by Aweit¡¯s nod, Gillim continued to advise, "Your Majesty, it seems that you are particularly fond of His Highness Xiulote?"


    Aweit¡¯s icy face softened a bit: "Hmm, young Xiulote once told me a story. In the story, there was a Divine Descendant King who was the first to unify the world! This Divine Descendant King had a piece of exquisite raw jade, and he carved Divine Symbols on it, infused it with his own Divinity, and shaped it. This piece of raw jade turned into a peerless gemstone that symbolized the inheritance of the nation!"


    "You mean..." Gillim asked in a low voice, having already guessed the king¡¯s intention.


    "Xiulote is that piece of exquisite raw jade, and I am that Divine Descendant King who unified the world. I will carve the raw jade into shape, turning it into a peerless gemstone with Divinity!" Thinking of the youth¡¯s growth, Aweit revealed a look of relief in his smile.


    "Do you really plan to hand over the nation to him? Before the decisive battle, it was just in case. After all, you are in the prime of life and can rule the Alliance for decades. And Prince Chimalpahin, born from the legitimate wife, is already two years old..."


    Upon hearing this, Aweit frowned.


    "His Highness Xiulote has the support of the High Priests, and he possesses innate wisdom and outstanding talents. Now that he¡¯s not yet of age, you¡¯ve already made him Commander-in-Chief of the legions. By the time he comes of age, there would be two suns in the sky, and two Jaguars in the forests, which, I fear, would not be fortunate for the Alliance..."


    Aweit¡¯s expression shifted, his smile gradually turning rigid. A chill slowly spread through the tent, just as the campfire was gradually extinguishing.


    The cold lingered for a long while until the seated King once again remembered Totec¡¯s unstoppable giant axe, the beautiful girl that came to his last memory between life and death, followed by the youth¡¯s selfless and heroic rescue...


    The King¡¯s smile then slowly returned, but this time with a different sort of murderous intent.


    "Gillim, you¡¯ve spoken quite a lot today."


    "Your Majesty, I harbor no self-interest. I merely do not wish for civil war to happen again. There only needs to be one sun." Gillim answered solemnly, prostrating himself on the ground.


    "I am willing to believe that you have no self-interest. Remember, there can only be one sun, the other can become the moon. The forests of the Mexica are too narrow, but the sky is wide enough for two eagles to soar!"


    "Gillim, let today¡¯s words stay in today, and do not bring them up again, unless you have no tomorrow."


    "I follow the King¡¯s command." Gillim sighed inwardly, then solemnly bowed and once again returned to the shadows.


    Aweit continued to look for a while, then tossed the Divine Staff with the Yellow Gemstone to the ground, from which a slight ringing sound emanated. Afterwards, the King took out the Divine Staff with the Ruby, and with a gentle gaze, he whispered softly to the one hundred carat Starlight Ruby.


    "In the name of my ancestor Montezuma, for the rest of my life, as long as you do not betray me, I shall carve you into a treasure that inherits the world!"

 Chapter 101 - 74 The End of the Year 1482 - The Discovery of Congo

    In August of the year 1482, in the waters of the Gulf of Guinea, South Atlantic.


    When Xiulote had just disembarked south of Xilotepec City, far away in the distant East, the seven caravel ships had just crossed the Equator. Harnessing the power of the southeast trade winds, they sailed southward with determination, against the weak current of the Gulf of Guinea.


    The caravels measured approximately twenty to thirty meters in length and six to nine meters in width, with a length to width ratio of about 3.5:1, making them quite small. With this ratio, the ships had high stability, with both their speed and maneuverability being relatively suitable. They had a displacement of about fifty tons, a single deck, and were equipped with two masts carrying the triangular sails commonly seen in the Mediterranean.


    Under the gentle monsoon, the caravels¡¯ sails were slightly unfurled, pushing the small ships to a moderate speed of 4 knots, traveling 7.4 kilometers per hour. With sufficient wind, the agile caravels could even reach an astonishing 8 to 9 knots.


    This type of ship was a potent weapon of the pioneering Kingdom of Portugal, widely used in exploration of coastal waters and the Mediterranean. From the North Atlantic to the South Atlantic, from the Portuguese offshore island of Santa Cruz to Santo Antonio in the Gulf of Guinea, caravels sailed southward, searching for routes to the wealthy East, and for the legendary kingdom of the powerful King John.


    The fleet before us was doing the same; it had just crossed Cape Lopez near the Equator and was now continuing southward in search of new lands and seas. Adorning the masthead of the seven caravels was the flag of the Portuguese Royal Family, flying high.


    At the center of the flag was a blue cross on a white background. The blue cross was composed of five groups of eleven shields arranged in a shield pattern. These shields, resembling silver coins, symbolized the autonomous currency issuance rights of the initially independent Kingdom of Portugal.


    The outer ring of the flag featured the Avis Cross with green patterns and twelve neatly arranged yellow castles. The Avis Cross symbolized the founder of the Avis dynasty, Emperor Joao I, who inherited the kingdom in his capacity as the Grand Master of the Order of Avis. The yellow castles symbolized the common ancestors closely linked between Portugal and the Kingdom of Castile.


    Under the Equatorial sun, accompanied by the warm trade wind, the sun shone on the largest caravel. Although early artillery was widely used on the battlefields to expel the Moors, this exploration vessel was not equipped with cannons. The ship was not designed for combat; its tonnage was quite limited, and space had to be left for storing more food and water.


    At the ship¡¯s bow, a middle-aged white man in luxurious attire stood solemnly, gazing silently at the distant sea and sky. He wore a flat captain¡¯s hat, a silver cross necklace of the Holy Mother around his neck, neatly dressed in a red and blue captain¡¯s uniform, and a ceremonial sword at his waist. Even in the tropical heat, he kept his collar, cuffs, and trouser legs tightly fastened, his belt accentuating his upright figure, meticulously watching ahead. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Behind the captain was a bustling crew, with sailors climbing the tall masts periodically to observe the distant coastline.


    On this two-masted vessel, the mainmast was forward, about 18 meters high, and the mizzenmast was aft, about 15 meters high. On a clear day on deck, an excellent sailor could see more than 30 kilometers, and every two meters climbed on the mast added roughly another kilometer to the view. Therefore, without telescopes, the ship¡¯s furthest visible range was about 40 kilometers.


    This exploring fleet maintained a safe distance within forty kilometers from the coastline, persistently exploring southward along the edge of the wild jungle on the West African continent.


    In the shadow of the mast, a few meters behind the captain, a young nobleman dressed in fine clothes was sweating profusely. He took off his aristocratic hat, loosened his collar, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Then he quietly took out a flask and took a hearty swig of water mixed with wine.


    "Aha! Veteran sailor Bruno Cao, you dare to sneak some wine!" Suddenly behind the young noble, a short-haired sailor emerged. His body was lean and his face sunburned. He was wearing only a sailor¡¯s short shirt, with a Moorish scimitar at his waist, and now, his eyes wide, he whispered fiercely.


    "Shh, keep it down. Veteran sailor Paulo! Do you want the respected Captain Diogo Cao to find out? This blasted ghost weather." Startled by Paulo, Bruno wiped the sweat from his face again.


    "Then let me have a taste too. Quick, let me try it. We¡¯ve been on this boat for a full two weeks! Fodesse! The sun is nearly cooking me alive; only you nobles still get to drink some wine."


    Paulo¡¯s eyes were fixed on the flask, his hand reaching out almost involuntarily.


    "Alright, have a taste... dammit, that¡¯s enough, enough! That¡¯s all I have left."


    "Ah, Fodesse! Praise the Holy Mother. I¡¯ve finally tasted wine again." Paulo tipped the flask vigorously, licking the last drops off the rim, relishing the taste.


    "Damn it!" Bruno snatched back the empty flask, shook it, and heard no sound of liquid. The melancholy inherent to the Portuguese instantly swept over him, his spirit withering in an instant.


    "Tenho saudades! I¡¯m nostalgic! Losing you makes me so forlorn."


    Paulo was grinning at his side, laughing heartily. He threw an arm around Bruno¡¯s shoulder and gave the young man¡¯s body a vigorous shake.


    "I say, Brother Bruno, you should take a lesson from the captain. Just look at the captain¡¯s demeanor and actions." Speaking, veteran sailor Paulo jerked his chin in the direction of the ship¡¯s bow.

 Chapter 102 - 74 The End of the Year 1482 - The Discovery of Congo_2

    "Look at those melancholic eyes, that profound visage, with a touch of sadness in his tone, he really is the perfect Portuguese man. If my sister weren¡¯t married, I¡¯d definitely shove her at the captain. She would go crazy!"


    "Dream on! The respected captain Diogo Cao is the illegitimate son of the noble Lord Gon?alves Cao of the royal household. He¡¯s a true descendant of the nobility, how could he possibly marry a common girl without a surname!"


    Paulo curled his lip, knowing this was unrealistic. "Aren¡¯t you also a noble with a surname, mixing with a commoner like me?"


    "How can we compare." Bruno Cao gave a wry smile, "Although we¡¯re from the same family, my grandfather died in war against the Moors long ago, and my father is a poor and destitute bastard. All I have is this set of clothes handed down from my grandfather. Right, let go! Don¡¯t ruin my clothes."


    "So it is. Well, if my sister weren¡¯t married, it wouldn¡¯t be too bad to match her with you. You¡¯re actually quite alright. And, by the way, she¡¯s very beautiful!" Paulo glanced at Bruno and murmured softly.


    Bruno was momentarily startled, seemingly touched for a moment. Then, with a skeptical look, he observed Paulo¡¯s sturdy face: "Does your sister look like you?"


    "How could that be! She is the most beautiful girl in the town of Faro on the southern coast. Of course, like me, she also has a bit of Moorish blood."


    Bruno rubbed his bearded chin with his hand, not at all averse to the appearance of the Moors, even finding it more delicate than the rough girls of Iberia.


    "Damn, but you just said she¡¯s already married!?"


    "Yeah, she did get married to the town¡¯s blacksmith and had two kids, a boy and a girl."


    "Then why mention it!" Bruno glared angrily.


    "Ah, fodesse! Dead, they¡¯re all dead. There were wars over the past few years, and then the Black Death spread to the south. My sister¡¯s husband died, my nephew died, my niece died, they all died. Only my sister survived. Tenho saudades! I miss those two children." Paulo heaved a sigh, his fierce sailor¡¯s visage heavy with sorrow.


    Remembering the horrifying Black Death, that wave after wave of harvesting lives. Silence fell upon the two of them; they both had loved ones perish in it, as did all Europeans!


    They immersed themselves in the sentimental melancholy that was all too common among Portuguese people.


    "Holy Mother, bless us! Tenho saudades!" Bruno made the sign of the cross, then asked, "So how is your sister now?" sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fodesse! Right now, she wears black veils all day, hiding alone in her house in town, not willing to see anyone. I¡¯m a bit worried, thinking it might be better to marry her off." Paulo¡¯s muscular face was etched with worry.


    "Hiding alone in town!? She must be very careful then." Bruno also expressed concern for Paulo¡¯s sister.


    "The Inquisition is hunting witches everywhere. A single woman like her, whose husband and children have died, and still surviving, could easily be targeted by the Inquisition. If any neighbors report her, and those mad dogs come knocking, not even the Almighty Lord can save her, for sure she¡¯d be sent to the stake."


    Thinking about the cruelty of the Inquisition, both shuddered and fell silent again.


    After a moment, Bruno suggested.


    "I live in the Civilian District of the capital, Lisbon. The capital is a big city with seventy thousand people! Everyday it¡¯s bustling with people, and merchants from every kingdom. People don¡¯t know each other, nor care about each other. On this expedition, save up a bit of money, buy a house near mine, then bring your sister over to stay with me. I can take care of you both."


    "Haha, brother Bruno, that¡¯s exactly what I¡¯ve been waiting to hear! Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve been saving the money for a long time."


    The rugged sailor Paulo broke into a bright smile, patting the curved sword at his waist, then pulling out two blood-stained gold bracelets from his chest.


    "When we first got to the Gold Coast, I saw the natives had lots of gold. We didn¡¯t have time to look around then because of the tight schedule. When we stopped in Ghana to build Elmina Castle, I made time to go out with the sailors, sacked two native villages, they¡¯re weaker than the Moors!"


    "See these two, big gold bracelets? They were on the highest-ranking old woman in the village. As soon as we got there, I spotted them, charged over and with two swift slashes, chopped off the obstructing parts, and no other sailor could outdo me!" Paulo continued with a wide grin.


    Hearing this, Bruno was somewhat shocked, and asked urgently, "Did any of them escape? We haven¡¯t secured our footing on the Gold Coast yet, don¡¯t attract strong tribes."


    "Fodesse! How could they. It¡¯s not the first time for us, my mates are very adept now. Old, young, dead, alive, not even a chicken could escape, and in the end, we just piled them up and set them on fire!" Paulo¡¯s face remained brightly lit.


    Bruno finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, after all, the Pope said that a dead heathen is a good heathen, killing them is also contributing to the Lord."


    Then, looking at the gold bracelets in Paulo¡¯s hand, Bruno¡¯s pupils reflected a greedy gleam for the gold.


    "Is this real gold? So big?"


    "It¡¯s real, I¡¯ve bitten and tested it myself. When I return, I¡¯ll take my sister to find you in Lisbon and buy a big new house." Paulo smiled naively, looking forward to a beautiful life in the future.


    "Tenho saudades! I miss you! I can¡¯t believe I missed the opportunity to get rich!" Bruno sank back into his genuine melancholy. Then he thought of something and looked eagerly at Paulo.

 Chapter 103 - 74: The End of 1482 - Discovery of Congo

    "When we return, if you fellows go out again, be sure to call me along!"


    "Sure, Brother Bruno, as soon as you marry my sister, we¡¯ll be family. Then we can seek fortune together with the local tribes!" Paulo gave Bruno a brotherly hug.


    "It¡¯s all in service to the Lord. May the merciful Holy Mother protect us!" Bruno made the sign of the cross again. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After discussing their plans for wealth, the atmosphere between them markedly warmed.


    Bruno remembered something he had witnessed in the Capital City and decided to share it with his future brother-in-law.


    "Some time ago, there was a gathering of foreigners near Sintra Palace."


    &"Some time ago? The old king died, and a new king ascended the throne, right!" Paulo thought for a moment, recalling what other sailors had mentioned.


    "Exactly. The noble King Afonso V had returned to the Lord¡¯s Kingdom, and the kind Joao II has just ascended the throne. Joao II is truly a great man like Prince Enrique, and this voyage is sponsored by him. The honorable Captain Diogo Cao is under the will of the Pope and the king, seeking a route to the East, to find the powerful Kingdom of Prester John, and to attack the evil Ottoman people."


    A look of admiration for the heroes and the king filled Bruno¡¯s face.


    "Damn it! It¡¯s fine to look for Prester John, I¡¯ve heard from the priests it¡¯s a land flowing with milk and honey. But only a fool would go back and fight fiercely with the Ottomans. Ever since we encountered the Ottomans in North Africa, I never want to see them again in my life." Paulo¡¯s fierce face showed uncontrollable dread.


    "The Ottomans are that formidable? We Portuguese have never feared our enemies, our kingdom¡¯s independence comes from fearless battles!" Bruno was obviously unconvinced.


    "Let me put it this way, killing us is as easy for the Ottoman army as it is for us to kill these local tribes. Endless cavalry, continuous infantry, thousands of cannons, and even new matchlock guns. If our ships weren¡¯t fast, we would have stayed on the shores of North Africa." Paulo sighed, sincerely acknowledging the strength of the Ottomans.


    "Sigh, but to be honest, these local tribes are not easy to deal with either. Iron weapons, war elephants, and cavalry, not to mention the terrifying jungle and diseases. I don¡¯t know what happens, but once you engage them, men just disappear. If only we could encounter tribes richer and more fragile than these locals!"


    "Damn it! Then we could send them all to Hell, burn them clean with fire, and then have a blast plundering!"


    Paulo¡¯s eyes were filled with a longing for wealth. As for the lives of the pagans, devout believers only watch their suffering and laugh out loud!


    Bruno sneered, thinking Paulo lacked a heroic spirit. He quickly shifted the topic: "With the kind Joao II¡¯s ascension, the Spaniards also sent an envoy to congratulate him."


    "Damn, those Castilians are like bulls always in heat. The Moors won¡¯t last much longer; the tribunals in Madrid have been prepared. This bull can¡¯t find another target and is now salivating over our kingdom. Damn them! They¡¯re our biggest threat!"


    "Sigh, Castile and the Kingdom of Aragon have long merged, and now they¡¯ve devised a new name, Spain, Espa?a, a kingdom rich with wealth and minerals." Bruno¡¯s nobility allowed him access to more knowledge.


    "Damn it, Fuck the Spaniards, the sheep of Spain!"


    "Lord... Nobility and commoners have always been two completely different breeds, innately destined from their very bloodlines," Bruno thought somberly.


    Thanks to the legacy of Prince Enrique, there were always a large number of minor nobility among the Portuguese explorers. In fact, at this time, Portuguese fleets were the most subtle and civilized among the navies of the world. It was hard for future generations to imagine the hellish scenes of Spanish exploration parties, purely made up of societal riffraff.


    No Portuguese could ever ignore the threat from Spain, and cursing Spain was a common delight. After whispering insults for a while, Bruno continued to share some novel observations.


    "After the merciful Joao II ascended the throne, a rogue sailor named Columbus came from the City-State. This fellow, hearing the King supported navigation, repeatedly sought an audience with the King, claiming he wanted to sail westward to reach India!"


    "Ha, he must have had too much wine, spouting nothing but demonic lies. Columbus? Doesn¡¯t even have a surname, Fodesse! And he¡¯s a commoner?" Although he had never met Columbus, that didn¡¯t stop Paulo from despising the people of the City-State.


    "Right. It¡¯s said he¡¯s the son of a wool textile worker from the City-State, a rogue who muddled through many years aboard ships, a captain without a ship, a smuggler without merchandise. He apparently heard from somewhere that the world is round, and now he wants the King to fund him to voyage deep into the Atlantic, seeking passages to India and China."


    Bruno joked, mocking this City-State rogue, which was one source of entertainment in their lives.


    "Ha, Fodesse! People from the City-State are Satan worshippers who sold their souls to the devil. They hoard food, drive down prices, and practice usury everywhere! They deserve to be sent to the stake by a religious tribunal!"


    Bruno agreed. "The man is just a braggart rogue. We Portuguese are the silent doers, the least fond of these incessant prattlers. The nobility in Sintra Palace didn¡¯t even pay him any heed, and sent him packing right away!"


    Paulo laughed too, striking the reflective pose of a captain gazing at the sea and sky, murmuring softly.


    "Fodesse! Tenho saudades! I miss you! Where are you, King Joao?"


    Just then, a sailor atop the mast suddenly shouted loudly, "The water ahead has changed color, there¡¯s a freshwater rivermouth!"


    The melancholy as a sculpture Diogo Cao suddenly sprang to life, "Turn the fleet to the left, toward the coast! Bosun, distribute the weapons! All sailors, prepare for battle!"


    Bruno and Paulo immediately shut up, both noble and common sailors quickly demonstrating their seasoned skills.


    They took up cutlasses, steel crossbows, and matchlock guns, grabbing the ropes between ships, their faces filled with intense intent to kill, ready for everything.


    Less than two hours later, a mighty Long River appeared before everyone. The river was a whopping ten kilometers wide, stretching beyond sight. It flowed powerfully from the depths of the jungle, surging into the sea. At the river¡¯s end was a vast floodplain, with sparse wisps of cooking smoke rising from distant villages.


    "Lord! Such a huge river! What river is this? Have you heard any related rumors?" Captain Diogo Cao stepped forward briskly, grabbing the translator from the Gold Coast who had converted to the Lord years earlier, asking urgently and seriously.


    The dark-skinned native translator struggled to recall, then stuttered a response in his newly learned Portuguese.


    "A particularly large and long river, the legendary Zaire River only from distant legends! Nzadi Kongo!"

 Chapter 104 - 75: The End of 1482 - Explorer’s Pillar

    The Congo River, the longest river in Black Africa, traverses east to west, spanning ten thousand miles and reaching a depth of two hundred meters, with the rivermouth as wide as twenty miles. Since its formation in the Pleistocene, it had surged for two million years. It has wholly witnessed the origins of humanity, fostered prehistoric civilizations, and preserved the last traces of dinosaurs.


    And today, it appeared before the eyes of Western explorers for the first time, heralding the arrival of a new age.


    The expedition leader, flagship captain Diogo Cao, silently made the sign of the cross on his chest. Where there is fresh water, there are people and tribes. Where might this river lead? What lies at its end? No one knew at that time.


    The fleet first patrolled the rivermouth, temporarily encountering no dangerous enemies or wild beasts. The sailors observed distant smoke, determining it necessary to delve deeper into the rainforest. Soon, captain Diogo Cao commanded the flagship, leading the fleet into the rivermouth.


    "Bruno Cao, measure the water depth!" Diogo Cao commanded authoritatively, for he was the king of this ship.


    The experienced sailor Bruno began to hurriedly secure a lead weight to the rope before throwing it into the river. Paulo helped beside him. The rope sank quickly, soon reaching its end.


    "Captain, the rope has run out," Bruno reported respectfully.


    "Attach the spare rope and continue measuring." The captain¡¯s orders must be absolutely obeyed. At sea, there were two contradicting ironclad rules: One was rigid hierarchy, and the other was one man one vote.


    The sailors busied themselves again, and after adding the rope three times, the rope finally slackened, the lead weight reaching the bottom.


    "How much?"


    "Three lengths of rope, uh, 230 meters!" Bruno counted on his fingers for a while before exclaiming in shock. He was capable of basic arithmetic, which was why the captain had tasked him with measuring.


    Two hundred and thirty meters! Everyone exchanged glances, such a depth even surpassed some coastal waters.


    Captain Diogo Cao nodded silently at this astonishing depth, reassuring that all the world¡¯s ships need not worry about running aground. He then directed the exploration fleet upriver, seeking the source of the smoke. Along the way, the measured water depth consistently remained around two hundred meters. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    On both banks was dense rainforest, wherein birds flew, vague beasts loomed, crocodiles played dead, and the ubiquitous buzzing swarms of mosquitoes were present.


    Bruno grimaced at the mosquitoes over the river¡¯s surface, already gathering into visually distinct swarms that emitted a whirlwind-like buzzing. A warm breeze passed between the sailboats, carrying the scent of fresh humans, and the mosquitoes gradually drew closer, like bloodthirsty sprites.


    "These damn tropical mosquitoes! Each one as big as my finger, who knows how much it would hurt to get bitten just once!" Bruno tightly fitted his nobleman¡¯s hat and then secured his collar, cuffs, and trouser legs, hiding his body within the nobility¡¯s long coat.


    "Hey, Bruno bro. As a man, we are not afraid of bleeding or being cut, what are you afraid of some mosquitoes for!" Paulo, dressed in shorts, carelessly swatted at the swarms of mosquitoes. "Now, I¡¯m starting to wonder if my sister would really be happy if she ended up with you."


    "Damn, you¡¯ll know once your sister marries me! By the way, do you think there¡¯s gold among these natives?" Bruno looked towards the distant smoke, his desire scratching at him like a cat with an itch.


    "Certainly, but who knows how much. Fodesse! Last time we worked all night and only got two pieces of gold, barely enough to share. We almost came to blows." Paulo too, looked forward to the distant smoke. He subconsciously licked his lips, his hand touching the curved knife hung at his waist.


    Just then, on the riverbank, suddenly appeared a lean native warrior. He wore a red feather like a bush on his head and was encircled by a bone necklace around his neck¡ªall symbols of an experienced warrior.


    The native warrior held a long wooden shield high enough to cover half a man in his left hand, and in his right hand, he clutched a nearly two-meter-long spear, with an iron spearhead one palm long and half a palm wide glinting in the sunlight. He was clothed only in a loincloth, but his entire body was smeared evenly with thick mud and dung. The mosquitoes calmly flew past him, occasionally a few landing on his hand like docile pets.


    The native warrior casually crushed the mosquitoes and tossed them into his mouth. The custom of eating mosquitoes had a long tradition among the rainforest tribes, as mosquitoes were plentiful enough to be rolled into dough. Mosquitoes were the best protein supplement, more stable than hunting. He looked somewhat puzzled at the huge ships on the river and the faintly visible white-skinned people on board.


    The tribal priests had spoken of boats floating on the water in the northwestern tribes, and of loud weapons on the highlands in the distant northeast. Thus, he knew these were ships, not beasts. But such large ships, with such large pieces of fabric, and white-skinned foreigners?


    Seeing the native warrior on the shore, Paulo¡¯s eyes narrowed as he picked up an early model matchlock gun from the weapon bucket and started to load it. Bruno, beside him, was puzzled.


    "Paulo, what are you doing?"


    "Fodesse! A native with a head full of chicken feathers and an iron spear! This is a real tough one, fast and fierce. My last brother fell to such a one. Let me finish him off while he¡¯s still dazed, it will save us trouble when we land later."


    In less than half a minute, Paulo had finished loading and primed the match cord, clearly a well-trained elite musketeer . He propped the matchlock gun on the gunwale, beginning to aim with one eye.


    "The captain hasn¡¯t given the order, don¡¯t be foolish!" Bruno urgently pressed down on the matchlock gun, attempting to hold him back.

 Chapter 105 - 75: The End of 1482 - Explorer’s Pillar 2

    "Let him shoot!" Captain Diogo Cao had come over at some point. Perhaps, although his eyes were on the sea, his ears never missed a sound on the ship.


    Bruno obediently withdrew his hand. Paulo was momentarily startled, glanced at the captain¡¯s imposing face, his hand trembling slightly, then he still pulled the trigger.


    Driven by the trigger, the metal hook pressed the match cord into the flash pan, igniting the black gunpowder instantly. A thunderous roar ensued, and a lead bullet was shot out at an initial speed of 200 meters per second, its kinetic energy rapidly transforming into thermal energy due to air resistance, and in less than a second, the scorching bullet struck the ground nearly ten meters away from the indigenous Samurai, sending up a splash of mud.


    "Nice shooting!"


    The captain nodded, the shooting deviation at nearly two hundred meters distance not exceeding ten meters, he truly was an elite musketeer. Due to the lack of rifling, early matchlock guns could only maintain accuracy within a hundred meters. Beyond this range, effective lethality could only depend on the likelihood of mass firing.


    Startled by the loud sound and seeing the splashed mud, the indigenous Samurai instinctively dodged backward. He sprinted two steps and hid behind a tree, waiting for several more seconds without hearing another roaring attack.


    Then he rose from behind the tree, facing the big ship on the river, waving his long spear and Wooden Shield, roaring angrily and helplessly. On the deck of the sailboat were the neatly dressed noble captain and the cruel sailors holding matchlock guns and daggers.


    This scene was so symbolic! Under the witness of the Congo River, a new era had descended! The same scene would reoccur in Angola, in South Africa, in Zimbabwe, in Mozambique, in Mombasa, in Somaliland, and then beyond Africa, along the Red Sea coast, reaching India, crossing Sri Lanka, arriving at the Spice Islands, crossing the Strait of Malacca, reaching the Philippines, Taiwan, and finally, Japan and China.


    When future generations open the world map, tracing the important sea routes, they will see a series of Western names of mountains, islands, straits, ports, and colonies, perhaps with a sigh for those past explorations and conquests!


    Under the onslaught of European exploration ships and warships, America would be ruthlessly destroyed, and the colonizers would take away everything from America. And Africa would be cruelly plundered, stopped outside the Rainforest by tropical diseases.


    On the corpses of American civilizations¡¯ infants and the flesh of African civilizations¡¯ children, young European civilization was growing rapidly, at a pace ten times that of the past millennium, evolving into a giant capable of defeating everything.


    They would have larger ships, superior guns, mounting various large cannons on their boats to seek the world¡¯s wealth. Then they would strengthen their forces even more, establish a more efficient killing system, until they could mount cannons at the doorsteps of all Asian nations.


    The final European giants occupied the entire world, bringing wars that destroyed each other, like heading toward the twilight described in Northern European mythology. Everything followed an ancient cycle, moving towards a fate already prophesized!


    If no one changed, all of Xiulote¡¯s "memories" would still be replayed. History, like the Congo River, surged turbulently, carrying the irresistible currents of the era, sweeping towards the future of different races, and thus determining five hundred years of rise and fall!


    Watching the indigenous warrior roaring angrily at the sailboat and the matchlock guns, Captain Diogo Cao furrowed his brow.


    "Not afraid of the big boat, nor the matchlock guns? Good quality iron weapons, strong fighting desire, this is a professional warrior. With such vast freshwater resources... there must be a large tribe with a legacy nearby!"


    "Boatswain! Keep a good watch on the sailors, no unauthorized landings! Until we figure out the strength of the indigenous tribes here, put away your thuggish attitudes!"


    Diogo Cao¡¯s commanding gaze swept across the sailors, resting sharply on Paulo¡¯s fierce face until the latter lowered his head, then continued to inspect his vassals. Everyone obediently bowed their heads. The signal officer raised the flags, signaling to other ships in the fleet, "Careful, stand guard."


    The fleet patrolled upstream for a day, everyone spent another day on the ship, until they saw the first village. Following the fleet, dozens of tribal warriors had gathered along the riverbank, and there were six or seven feather-wearing indigenous Samurais as well.


    Diogo Cao sent Bruno and a local translator to present glass beads as gifts to the Elder, who reciprocated with feathers and some food.


    This area also belonged to the Niger-Congo language family; the local translator spoke the Fong language of this language family, while this tribe spoke a form of the Congo language. The Elder of the Fong village called the Priest, and the translator was able to communicate with the Priest, then both sides conveyed messages to each other.


    Bruno eyed the Elder¡¯s golden bracelets and headdress with an uncontrollable desire. But seeing the dozens of iron-spear warriors behind the Elder and hearing the translator¡¯s reply, he had to suppress his longing.


    "This is the land ruled by the Heavenly Divine-protected Mwenet Congo, the Great Chief possesses hundreds of tribal villages, and the twelve Priesthood of Voodoo listens to the Heavenly Divine¡¯s orders, with hundreds of warriors guarding the Heavenly Divine¡¯s realm! Foreigners, I accept your friendship and return the Heavenly Divine¡¯s greetings."


    As he spoke, the village Elder handed over a large piece of skirt wrapped in tree leaves. These leaves resembled those of the palm trees in southern China, very tough in texture.


    sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 106 - 75: The End of 1482 - Explorer’s Pillar_3

    If the tribal Elder had not lied, then there would be a powerful indigenous Kingdom here, far from comparable to the loose, weak tribes of the Gold Coast.


    Bruno took over the leaf, a type of plant leaf he had never seen before. He sniffed the elongated leaf, which bore a special fragrance. He looked around, and saw many natives wearing grass skirts woven from this kind of leaf. But when he finally opened the leaf with great expectations, inside were small clumps of baked mosquito cakes!


    Bruno felt extremely disgusted in his heart. He rewrapped the leaf and stored it away, but his face carried a radiant smile. Since the other party possessed sufficient military force, there was a foundation for friendship between them.


    The meeting ended in a friendly and sincere atmosphere, then they bid each other reluctant goodbyes, with the native warriors clustering around the village Elder, warmly sending off the large ship and the pale-skinned foreigners as they left.


    Once aboard the ship, Bruno reported the results of the first meeting to Captain Diogo Cao. Hearing that there was actually a powerful indigenous kingdom here, everyone was exceedingly surprised.


    Captain Diogo Cao fell into contemplation. Now the fleet consisted of only one hundred and fifty sailors and soldiers, plus a few missionaries. If there really was a powerful kingdom upstream, and any rash sailor sparked a conflict with them, the exploration fleet would surely face heavy losses. After some thought, the captain decided not to take any more risks and to complete the more important matters first. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fleet, return to course, back to the Rivermouth!"


    As the flagship raised the "follow, return journey" signal flags, the fleet turned around smoothly on the wide river, heading back west towards the Rivermouth.


    "Damn it! Disgusting black natives, the heretics who deserve the Hell of Fire!"


    Bruno, with a look of disgust on his face, took out the leaf parcel given to him by the village Elder, and was about to throw it into the river. But then he noticed the peculiar shape of the leaves. The scholars from the Sintra Palace seemed to be collecting new plant specimens? And it seemed they were offering quite a generous price for them.


    Bruno thought for a moment, then unwrapped the leaf, threw the mosquito cakes into the river, and neatly folded the skirt leaf before stuffing it into his pocket. He did not notice that ever since he had kept the leaf on his person, the mosquitoes that had been following him on the way back were noticeably fewer by ninety percent.


    "Hey, brother Bruno, wasn¡¯t that village Elder wearing a gold headband? I saw something twinkling from the ship." Paulo¡¯s eyes shone with longing, as he approached to inquire.


    "Forget about it, there are said to be ten thousand spear-wielding warriors here, just a few hundred of them would finish us off. Tenho saudades! Not just a gold headband, he also had gold armlets!" Bruno replied seriously at first, then also became mired in the despair of unfulfilled desire.


    "Fodesse! Ten thousand warriors?! Fodesse! Pah, what lies of the devil! The Kingdom at most has thirty thousand troops of varying quality, and he says there¡¯s at least a third of a Kingdom here?" Paulo¡¯s eyes widened as he exclaimed loudly, clearly disbelieving.


    At that time, the Kingdom of Portugal had a population of one point five million, and with a ratio of 1:50 of soldiers to population, that amounted to no more than thirty thousand troops. The cavalry would also consume many times more food supplies than the infantry.


    Bruno shrugged; in fact, he didn¡¯t believe it either, but the captain had already ordered the return. The two could only stare at the receding village, lost in the melancholy of Portuguese men.


    After another day¡¯s return journey, the fleet reached the Rivermouth where the Congo River flows into the South Atlantic. Captain Diogo Cao found a suitable harbor next to the Rivermouth, and the fleet anchored there.


    Then, the sailors began to land and set up Encampment, and Captain Diogo Cao, dressed in noble¡¯s attire, stood solemnly. Because today was a special day.


    Captain Diogo Cao found a spot on the Highland near the river. He ordered the sailors to bring a padr?o by boat, an explorers¡¯ stone pillar that had been prepared in advance. At the top of the pillar was a cross representing the Lord, below which was the shield emblem symbolizing the Portuguese Royal Family, and further down was the inscription carved only yesterday.


    "Under the grace of the Almighty Lord, sponsored by the great King Joao II of Portugal and Algarve, on August 28, 1482, noble son Diogo Cao discovered the Congo River and its associated watersheds for the first time. He offered this rich land and its people to the great Kingdom of Portugal, and the Royal Family has the Lord¡¯s promised absolute right to this land! This right is indubitable! May blessings embrace King Afonso V of the Divine Kingdom! Pray for us!"


    This pillar symbolized Portugal¡¯s first discovery and possession of this land. As for the original owners of this land? The weak indigenous kingdoms were not recognized by the civilized nations of Europe. To the Western world, this place was merely a land with no master!


    When the darkness deepened and the bonfires were lit, the over one hundred sailors and soldiers from all seven ships gathered together. The accompanying priests lit candles for prayer. Today was a special day, commemorating the one-year embrace of the Divine Kingdom by the late King Afonso V.


    The sailors didn¡¯t really care about the King or the commemoration. But ultimately, it was the nobility sons loyal to the King who truly controlled the fleet. So everyone, in formal dress, following the guidance of the priests, began to pray for the King and for themselves.


    "Sacred Saint Afonso,


    My revered, great King,


    Please pray for us!


    The glorious Trinity in heaven.


    "


    "Under the light of the Almighty Lord,


    Grant me a lively faith,


    Sagacious thoughts for all people, things, and matters.


    I offer you my sincere dedication,

 Chapter 107 - 75: The End of 1482 - Explorer’s Pillar_4

    My fleeting body elevates my eternal soul,


    Just as was once your choice.


    The love for Jesus bathes me in Sacred Fire,


    I thirst for his sacraments,


    Passionately burning to spread his glory.


    "Through your powerful intercession,


    Help me fulfill my duty to the Lord,


    To save myself and the entire world!


    The infinite faith in Virgin Mary,


    Protects the purity of my soul,


    Blesses every day of my life,


    Keeping me from mortal sins,


    And granting me the grace of a blessed death.


    Amen.


    "Lord, the peaceful explorer and great devotee,


    Who glorified Portugal¡¯s Saint Afonso,


    He who snatched lands from the heathens,


    Through his efforts,


    We are creating God¡¯s glory,


    And thus called the children of God.


    Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,


    In the unity of the Holy Spirit,


    One God forever and ever,


    Amen.


    "Heavenly Father, we thank You for the beautiful gift,


    For setting the example of Portugal¡¯s Saint Afonso.


    Through hardships and trials,


    We shall always be loyal to You.


    We present to You this new land and its lambs!


    Through the powerful intercession of Saint Afonso,


    We beseech You to bestow protection and glory,


    We beseech You to grant wealth and strength,


    Enable us to find the way to the East,


    To find the mighty Kingdom of John,


    The Children of God shall unite,


    And let God¡¯s glory shine upon the world!


    For ¡¯Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall


    Be called the children of God.¡¯


    We ask all this through Jesus Christ,


    Awaiting the final peace.


    Amen.


    "Pray for us, blessed Saint Afonso.


    So that we may be worthy of the promises of Christ.


    Saint Afonso of Portugal,


    Pray for the strength of our nation.


    Saint Afonso, please pray for us!


    Saint Afonso, please pray for us!


    Saint Afonso, please pray for us!


    Though Afonso V was not canonized, that did not prevent the King¡¯s citizens from praying for him in the manner of a saint. In the devout Middle Ages, every follower of the Lord had a natural duty to spread the faith, to become flames, bringing light to mankind and burning away all impurity. What constituted impurity? The meaning was self-evident in these ruthless times. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Over a hundred nobility, sailors, soldiers, and missionaries shared a night full of tranquility and joy. They dedicated the lands of the Congo River to the Lord, finding fulfillment and comfort in their hearts on this land far from home. They likewise presented their requests to the Lord, firmly believing in His protection.


    It was as if they had returned to the peaceful homeland. Of course, back home there wouldn¡¯t be so many mosquitoes buzzing tirelessly day and night, all year round.


    Early the next morning, Captain Diogo Cao prepared to set out, continuing his voyage southward to explore the seas. Diogo Cao took only six ships, leaving one at the Rivermouth with an important mission.


    "Bruno Cao! I leave you twenty men and one ship. You are to make contact with the native kingdoms upstream! As a son of nobility, you may temporarily represent the Kingdom. Remember, maintain good relations with powerful tribes, try to obtain maps and information, inquire about the Kingdom of John! Once the task is complete, wait for me at the Rivermouth. May the Lord protect us!"


    Captain Diogo Cao commanded solemnly, ordering his sailors to undertake the exploration of the land with their lives.


    "I obey your command, honorable captain. May the Lord protect us!"


    Bruno was so stirred he nearly wept, for it was a hero¡¯s mission. He would represent the grand civilization of the Kingdom of Portugal, making first contact with the primitive and barbaric natives of Congo!


    Diogo Cao nodded, and with a hundred and thirty men, he set off. The six caravels sailed nimbly away from the Rivermouth, heading into the unknown south. There, the south Angolan coast awaited them with new lands to discover.


    Bruno, along with Paulo and the sailors, steered the exploratory ship. Amidst the swarms of mosquitoes, they ventured back upstream on the Congo River.

 Chapter 108 - 76: The End of 1482 - The Kingdom of King John

    The Caravel sailed upstream to explore this ancient continent that hadn¡¯t changed for a million years. It represented the Westerners rediscovering and occupying the world. A new geographical discovery also meant a new geographical possession.


    Bruno looked around at both banks, where endless dense rainforests lined the shore. Hidden within the rainforest were disappearing smoke from cooking fires, various exotic plants and wild animals, swarms of mosquitoes, and faint peering eyes.


    The native villagers watching them were mostly wearing simple grass skirts and headbands with unclear meanings, holding iron farming tools or weapons in their hands. They curiously watched the big ship and the pale-skinned people on it, unaware of what their arrival truly meant.


    The sailboat returned to the riverside village, where the native samurai and warriors had already dispersed. Paulo was fiercely staring at the nearby village.


    "Fodesse! The feather-headed Samurai are gone. Brother Bruno, let¡¯s go ashore!"


    His face was somewhat pale, as he had been inexplicably suffering from a low fever and chills recently. Still, a heart longing for a happy life was eagerly trying it cruelly.


    "Paulo, you rest for a while. Half of the sailors on the ship have not been feeling well recently. We only have twenty people in total; it¡¯s better to be cautious."


    Bunoru shook his head. The only reason preventing them from taking action was the stark disparity in strength.


    "Fodesse! Tenho saudades!" Paulo helplessly looked at the riverside village, where many tempting golden glimmers were visible but out of reach. He was melancholic.


    The journey of the ship continued upstream. Two days later, the terrain gradually rose, and it seemed to be a highland upstream. The jungles on both banks were a bit sparser, and the villages were more densely packed, where simply dressed natives casually worked in the fields. By noon, many people would hide in the woods and by the river to avoid the scorching sun, clumsily grabbing and eating insects, bananas, and tropical fruits with their hands. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The big ship on the river also attracted more attention from the tribe¡¯s warriors, who followed the ship upstream, shouting at the pale-skinned people on board. Receiving no response, the elite native Samurai pulled out their bows and futilely shot iron arrows at the big ship hundreds of meters away.


    The Caravel might have entered an important area as more tribal warriors gathered along the riverbank. Bunoru counted them, and the number of young warriors with wooden shields and iron spears had reached two to three hundred, with over forty veteran Samurai wearing chicken feathers.


    Watching the hundreds of warriors gathered on the riverbank, a flickering iron cold light, Paulo suddenly shivered. His body was somewhat weak and he also had a headache. The natives in front of him had already exceeded the exploration team¡¯s ability to cope.


    Soon, upstream in the river, more than a dozen small boats appeared. They were only a quarter the height of the Caravel, each carrying five or six warriors. These boats were not a significant threat to the Caravel, unless many besieging boats slowed down the ship, forcing it to engage in hand-to-hand fighting.


    Bruno remained cautious and careful. He sent the Yue Translator with the most sensible sailor out on a dinghy, also having them carry gifts of glass beads to express the explorers¡¯ goodwill.


    Soon, the dinghy with the translator and the sailor returned, also bringing back a brightly-dressed native Samurai. He wore a bright red headband, a gorgeous yellow robe, a necklace of rubies around his neck, and a chest bound with crossed blue straps, symbolizing nobility. He came with empty hands showing goodwill, but had a Greatbow, two iron spears, and an iron Dagger on his back.


    Bruno¡¯s gaze was immediately drawn to the ruby necklace. He quickly figured out that this necklace was worth a country manor or a large house in the Lisbon district. With enough wealth, he could return to high society, enjoying lavish parties, subservient servants, and the comforts of hunting on horseback.


    "Noble foreigner, ahead is the sacred dwelling of Mwene Congo¡¯s descendants, the Heavenly Divine. You cannot go further. If you wish to see the great Mwene Congo, you must disembark and walk under the Samurai¡¯s guidance!" the noble native Samurai declared loudly, with the Yue Translator struggling to interpret beside him.


    Bunoru considered for a moment, then took Paulo and the ten best fighters among the sailors. He left the remaining nine people to man the ship, which they stationed in the widest part of the river just in case.


    The Congolese were very friendly. Native canoe drivers brought roasted beans and fresh bananas to the sailors on the ship. In return, the sailors gifted shiny glass globes and some carved small wooden crosses. Both sides got along very harmoniously.


    "What is this cross?" the noble native Samurai curiously looked at the small item in his hand. He also noticed a similar object on Bruno¡¯s neck, but his was made of silver.


    "This is the redemption of Lord Christ! It is the holy Divine Son who carried the cross to redeem His own people. It will save our souls. Faith in the Lord is the only righteous path! Our mission is also to go to the East to seek out the Kingdom of John that believes in the Cross!"


    Surrounded by hundreds of tribal warriors, Bunoru patiently explained the faith of the Cross to the pagan Samurai. The Yue Translator scratched his head; he also wore a wooden cross around his neck and tried hard to relay his understanding of it.

 Chapter 109 - 76: The End of 1482 Part 3 - The Kingdom of King John_2

    ```


    "This is the Cross Pillar Heavenly Divine¡¯s Magic Artifact! It was forged by the Heavenly Divine¡¯s son with his own Holy Blood before his death, a soul artifact. It can protect your spirit from Voodoo, preventing it from being absorbed by a Voodoo Priest. The Mana of the Cross Pillar Heavenly Divine is boundless! We too are on our way to the East, in search of another tribe that worships the Cross Pillar Heavenly Divine!"


    So it was a soul artifact! The noble native Samurai instantly became reverent, equating the cross with the Skull Ritual Artifact and the Voodoo Doll in the hands of the Voodoo Priest. The fear of the Voodoo Priest¡¯s Soul-capturing Technique had long been deeply buried in the heart of every Central and West African native.


    After pondering for a moment, the native Samurai carefully tucked the cross inside the inner pocket of his clothes and shut his mouth, saying no more.


    The journey continued for several more days, with Paulo becoming increasingly listless. He would intermittently run fevers or feel cold, his condition visibly weakened.


    The group traveled along the paths through the jungle, heading deeper into the East. Finally, one day, a tall flat-topped mountain appeared in the distance. From the base to the summit of the mountain, one could vaguely see a vast city.


    "Fodesse! Truly the land of demons!" The fever came upon him again, and Paulo wiped the sweat from his face. Even as strong as he was, he was now struggling to endure.


    "Yes, it¡¯s really too hot." Bruno also wiped the sweat from his forehead. The sun in Central Africa was so scorching, it felt as if it were cooking him. "Fortunately, we have finally arrived! Mbanza Kongo!"


    Mbanza Kongo was such a massive city, teeming with wooden buildings and caves carved from the mountainside, with streams of residents in brightly colored attire bustling about. Occasionally, one could see domesticated elephants. It was perhaps the largest town below the Equator in Africa.


    Bruno roughly estimated the size of the city, reckoning it to be upward of thirty thousand people¡ªnearly half of Lisbon! He followed the noble native Samurai, astonished, through the bustling crowd to the central Royal Palace, where hundreds of strong native Samurai stood guard.


    The Royal Palace was the tallest stone structure in the city, atop the mountain. The stone walls were carved with various strange patterns and painted with twisted red and yellow square designs. The tops of the walls were also adorned with the skulls of various animals, especially those of lions and tigers, which were the largest and most numerous, seemingly a way to proclaim authority.


    Looking at the rows upon rows of dense animal skulls and hollow eyes, Bruno and Paulo both shivered simultaneously.


    "Fodesse! Truly the land of a powerful demonic tribe!" Paulo cursed softly, and then glanced at the hundreds of feather-wielding Samurai ahead, shivering once again.


    Bruno also nodded in agreement. After waiting for a while, the noble native Samurai came out again, leading the foreigners and the native Translator inside; the King had long been informed of their arrival.


    Upon entering the palace, both Bruno and Paulo¡¯s gaze were immediately drawn to a huge Ruby Crown, and they inadvertently overlooked the middle-aged black-skinned King beneath the crown.


    The design of the Ruby Crown resembled that of an upside-down giant conch shell, stacked layer upon layer, each layer with a base of silver, edged with gold, a ruby in the center, and surrounded by a dense ring of malachite. The Congo region was rich in green malachite, making emeralds commonplace here, which only made rubies appear more prestigious.


    The value of the Ruby Crown completely exceeded Bruno¡¯s comprehension of price. He did not know how much it was worth, but it was certainly worth a fortune. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fodesse! Tenho saudades! Truly a rich native tribe, if only not so mighty." For the first time, Bruno, born into Nobility, used vulgar language. His heart was tumultuous, his face full of astonishment.


    The King on the throne watched with satisfaction as the foreigners displayed shocked expressions. Mwene Kongo was the lord of a vast land, and his authority was unquestioned.


    It took a while for Bruno to recover from his astonishment, and he looked towards the King opposite him.


    The King had dark skin, sharp eyes, and was in his thirties or forties, draped in a luxurious Phoenician purple robe. On his arms, he wore gemstone-studded golden armlets, and likewise on his legs. He held a gemstone-studded Long Spear in his hand and a finely crafted sword at his waist. Around him were hundreds of elite Samurai arranged in order.


    Seeing the sword, Long Spears, and Samurai, Bruno fully regained his senses. He placed a hand on his chest, bowed, and respectfully performed the greeting of Nobility.


    "Under the grace of the Almighty God, in the name of the great King of Portugal and the Algarve, the upright and kind Joao II, I, the son of the Royal Family nobleman Bruno Cao, pay homage to the great Congo King, powerful and wealthy benefactor!"


    The native Translator nodded; he had long been preparing for the audience with the Great Chief. Opposite him was another translator familiar with the native language, and the two Translators exchanged greetings. They were the bridge for the first communication between the Kingdom of Portugal and the Kingdom of Congo.


    "Under the protection of the Cross Pillar Heavenly Divine, in the name of the lord of the land rich in fine wine from the frost-free harbor, the guest-loving Chieftain of Porto, son of Joao, I, Bruno Cao, who bears a noble mother, offer my sincere submission to the Divine-favored Mwene Kongo, the lord of one hundred thousand square kilometers of land and the leader of a hundred battalions of Samurai, the Great Chief Nzinga Mbemba, and I humbly present tribute!"


    At this time, the Congo Tribes still held strong matrilineal remnants, with females holding a very noble status. They served as Priests, Chieftains, and even as co-ruling Queens, just like Nzinga Mbemba¡¯s mother and wife.


    ```

 Chapter 110 - 76: The End of 1482 Part 3 - The Kingdom of King John_3

    ``` Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Subsequently, the translator presented the King with Bruno¡¯s gifts: an exquisitely crafted half-body suit of armor, a sharp sword of nobility, a small elegant glass mirror, and a delicate wool blanket. These were the gifts the Portuguese Royal Family had prepared in advance for the powerful natives, similar to their initial encounter with the Songhai Empire.


    King Nzinga Mbemba looked at these gifts with interest.


    He tested the armor for its firmness and the sword for its sharpness, nodding in approval. Then, he looked at his reflection in the small mirror, displaying astonishment and admiration. As for the wool blanket, the King, living in the tropics, did not quite understand its usefulness but touched it anyway, acknowledging its softness.


    Of course, this wool blanket was not deliberately infected with the smallpox virus, as the Western explorers would do in the future in America. Smallpox itself originated in Africa, and the King had experienced smallpox himself in his youth.


    King Nzinga Mbemba nodded in satisfaction. He ordered the foreign Samurai to kneel before him, then announced that he would bestow lavish gifts in return.


    Hearing the King¡¯s command relayed by the translator, Bruno and Paulo looked at each other. They glanced at the hundreds of elite warriors surrounding them wielding long spears, hesitated momentarily, then prudently knelt in homage. Soon after, the guards, on behalf of the King, reciprocated with gifts of pure ivory and green malachite for the foreigners. Upon seeing the valuable return gifts, the two men instantly forgot the humiliation of being forced to kneel.


    "On behalf of the great Christ, by the decree of the Pope of Rome, Pope Sixtus IV, and the King of Portugal, we have traveled to the East in search of brothers who also believe in the Lord, to the prosperous kingdom of Priest King John, where lies the Gate of Alexander and the Fountain of Youth, to together oppose the evil and mighty Ottoman followers of the crescent!"


    Bruno then revealed his mission¡¯s purpose: to search for the Kingdom of John.


    "The Divine Descendant of the Cross Pillar God, the grandson of the son of the High Priest from the riverside city, and the Great Chief of Porto have given orders to the Tribal Warriors. They are sent to the East to find another Tribe that believes in the Cross Pillar God, the land of the Priest Chieftain John, where lies a Gate of Stone and the warm springs of spring, to join forces against the mighty Tribe of the Moon God, the Ottoman people!"


    King Nzinga Mbemba fell into deep thought.


    First, he shook his head because the Tribe of the Moon God was clearly more powerful than the Tribe of the Cross Pillar God. Heading north along a tributary of the Congo River, after several days of land travel and following the river to its end, one would reach the basin of the Great Lake, all dominated by the Tribe of the Moon God. Even heading east along the main Congo River, landing at the Great Lake and continuing east through rift valleys, mountains, and jungle all the way to the coast would still bring one to the lands of the Moon God Tribe.


    The Moon God Tribe was so numerous and so powerful! As in the Voodoo belief, the tangible Moon greatly exceeds the wooden Cross in grandeur. How could the Tribe of the Cross Pillar God ever hope to defeat them!


    The King then nodded, for he had indeed heard of the Cross Pillar God¡¯s Tribe from the High Priest. Traveling along the Congo River to the East, landing at the Great Lake, passing through rift valleys, turning to the White Nile, it would take just over ten days of travel to reach the edge of the Cross Pillar God¡¯s Tribe. But if he continued north along the river, he would encounter the extremely powerful Divine Descendant Tribe of the Moon God.


    "Mwene Congo who is favored by the Heavenly Divine knows of the faraway eastern Tribe of the Cross Pillar God, where there are stone buildings, warm springs, and even the Divine Descendant Tribe of the Moon God!" the King¡¯s translator respectfully relayed.


    "The great King of Congo knows of the realm of Priest King John, which holds the Gate of Alexander and the Fountain of Youth, as well as the wicked and mighty Ottoman people!" The Translator also respectfully relayed.


    Bruno¡¯s mouth fell open in surprise, happiness coming so suddenly and unexpectedly. The dark-skinned ruler actually knew of the realm of King John! Since the time of Prince Enrique, for countless years, for generations, their search had continued. And today they had finally fulfilled the Pope¡¯s charge; perhaps they would be sainted for this momentous discovery! They had finally accomplished the King¡¯s command; surely, they would be ennobled and rewarded!


    Bruno was so moved that tears welled up in his eyes. Containing the fervor in his heart, he carefully asked the King if there was any token he might take back to fulfill his mission.


    King Nzinga Mbemba nodded, visibly moved by the loyalty of the foreign Tribe¡¯s warriors. He thought for a moment; such a distant Magic Artifact would likely only be with the Voodoo High Priest. He too had heard of the various Tribes of the continent when he was a child from the Voodoo High Priest.


    "My warrior, you seek from the Voodoo High Priest the Magic Artifact of the Cross Pillar God," the King commanded, and the messenger trembled, his eyes full of fear, but he complied.


    The thought of the Voodoo High Priest also made the King shudder inwardly. That thin old woman had lived for far too long. She was already alive when his grandfather was born. After his grandfather died, she was still alive. After his father died, she continued to live. Perhaps, even when he died, she would still be there.


    The people of the Kingdom revered this withered old Voodoo High Priest, for legend had it that she could extract the vitality and souls of people with her powerful Magic Artifacts and Voodoo, sustaining her eternal life. The Voodoo High Priest and the twelve members of the Priesthood were like an immovable mountain, firmly suppressing the King¡¯s power.


    The Voodoo High Priest lived in the jungle far from the city, and it would take two days for the Envoy to travel back and forth.


    ```

 Chapter 111 - 76: The End of 1482 Part 3 - The Kingdom of King John_4

    Bruno resided in an annex of the Royal Palace, continuing his discourse with the powerful King while proclaiming the might and mercy of the Lord. He sent a sailor to notify the ship. The rest would stay here for two days, which would also allow the ailing Paulo and several sailors to properly rest.


    "You mean to say, in your tribes, the Great Chief is always male, and the position of honor can be passed down to his sons and grandsons?" King Nzinga Mbemba asked with astonishment in the stone grand hall.


    Upon hearing the Translator¡¯s words, Bruno nodded; the transfer of feudal kingly power was mostly to direct male descendants.


    "You also mentioned that, in your Stone Cross Pillar tribe, the High Priest cannot control the affairs of the tribe, and the Great Chief does not need the priests to vote for his election?" The King still could not believe it with amazement.


    Bruno continued nodding, thinking it primitive and backward that the tribes here still used an abandoned system of elder democratic elections and had not embraced the centralized royal authority.


    King Nzinga Mbemba¡¯s eyes sparkled as he pondered the doctrine of the Heavenly Divine of the Stone Cross Pillar, feeling that it indeed seemed much more merciful compared to the dread of voodoo idolatry.


    At that moment, a boy dressed in luxurious clothes ran over. His skin was dark and he was exceptionally lively. He had bright, curious eyes that showed his strong inquisitiveness. King Nzinga Mbemba affectionately placed his hand on the boy¡¯s head.


    "Father, I heard that some white-skinned foreigners came today?! Ah, so white!"


    The boy exclaimed in surprise at Bruno¡¯s flour-like skin and was about to reach out to touch it.


    Bruno felt a stir in his heart. Looking at the boy¡¯s delicate face and garments, he gave a sincere smile, extended his fair hand, and amiably grasped the boy¡¯s dark hand in his.


    "Who is this little angel?"


    "This is my beloved eldest son, the future heir to the nation, Mpemba Kasi!" The King¡¯s face also showed a sincere smile. He loved his eldest son and longed for him to succeed the throne smoothly.


    Bruno understood. Biting his lip, he reluctantly removed the silver cross necklace from around his neck. Glancing at the smiling and nodding King, he placed the silver cross necklace around Mpemba Kasi¡¯s neck.


    "Blessed by the Holy Mother!" Bruno made a sign of the cross over his chest, "This child will surely become a great, merciful, and holy King in the future!"


    The King looked at the silver cross with a meaningful smile. The little boy curiously examined the silver cross around his neck and happily smiled as well.


    "Mpemba Kasi." Bruno mused over the name in his mind, not knowing why, but he was reminded of the late King Afonso of Portugal.


    Two more days passed, and Bruno took care of three sailors who were completely bedridden in the private annex of the Congo monarch. After two days of torment, the once fierce sailor Paulo was unrecognizable in his illness.


    Paulo lay in bed in extreme pain, writhing and convulsing unconsciously. His face was flushed, his breathing rapid, fevered for a full five hours, with blisters appearing around his mouth and nose; only his right hand was still trying to protect the garment on his chest.


    Paulo kept mumbling incoherently: "Fodesse! Terra do diabo! Land of the devil! Water, water, give me water!"


    Bruno sighed, poured some water into Paulo¡¯s mouth, knowing that Paulo would soon vomit it all back out. Fortunately, there were servants in the King¡¯s palace to clean up. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At that moment, the Kongo Translator came over. He glanced at Paulo and knew this curse all too well; it was a gateway between life and death that every person in Black Africa must cross, the selection of the ancestral spirits. The severity of this curse seemed far greater than what he had experienced as a child.


    He shook his head and then carefully looked at Bruno.


    "My lord, the King summons you. He has received a token from the Kingdom of John delivered by the Voodoo High Priest," the Translator said.


    Upon hearing this good news, Bruno¡¯s spirits lifted. He nodded and quickly went to see the King.


    "This is the Cross Ritual Artifact brought by people from the Voodoo High Priest, coming from the Stone Cross Pillar tribe in the East," the King handed an ancient stone cross to Bruno.


    Bruno inspected the cross carefully. The design was noticeably different from that of the Orthodox Church, with its intricate patterns and sharp angles, resembling a large cross with smaller crosses at its four corners. The middle was engraved with intertwined lines, like the leaves of a flower. On the shaft of the cross, there were lines of Ge¡¯ez script that Bruno could not recognize.


    Grasping the ancient cross tightly, Bruno was moved to tears. After a long voyage full of conquests, boundless rainforest, and disease, he finally found traces of the Kingdom of John on this devil-shrouded land!


    "Honored Captain Diogo Cao, we have finally found traces of the Kingdom of John! Blessed by the Holy Mother who watches over us!"


    Once this news reaches the Kingdom of Portugal, that scoundrel Columbus from the merchant city-states can be completely dismissed. The thought whimsically crossed Bruno¡¯s mind.


    Of course, at this time Bruno did not know that in the distant East, the powerful Kingdom of John, the brethren who believed in the Lord, was waiting for him and his successors to continue seeking¡ªit was the Ethiopians of the highlands!


    They were the direct descendants of King Solomon of Israel and the Queen of Sheba, ruling the Ethiopian highlands, Solomon¡¯s dynasty. The sole cross in the Sea of the Crescent Moon, a millennium-old dynasty lasting two thousand years!


    King Nzinga Mbemba nodded, not paying much attention to Bruno¡¯s reaction. He hesitated for a moment, weighing his thoughts, and finally did not dare to defy the request of the Voodoo High Priest.


    "The venerable Voodoo High Priestess, who commands the spirits, heard of your arrival and requests your presence!" the King said, looking at these foreigners who believed in foreign gods and sighing softly.

 Chapter 112 - 77: The End of the Year 1482 Part 4 - Ancestral God’s Blessing

    Having heard the King¡¯s words, Bruno felt a sense of repulsion: visiting a Voodoo High Priest on the land of the natives? It was akin to meeting an apostle of Satan on the Devil¡¯s own land, fraught with the risk of soul corruption!


    The King, Nzinga Mbemba, noticed the foreigner¡¯s hesitation. He pondered for a moment before persuading,


    "I hear your companions are undergoing the Chief Divine¡¯s curse, a test of life and death! Only the Voodoo High Priest has the power to help you survive this trial."


    Moved by these words, Bruno recalled Paulo¡¯s painful struggle, sighed softly, and nodded his head.


    Immediately, Bruno had his only healthy sailor take the mysterious cross back to the ship while he led the remaining eight people, along with the King and the Samurai, into the jungle. Paulo and two other sailors, who had completely fallen ill, were carried by the native Samurai.


    Under the Equator¡¯s sun, the three ailing men were tightly wrapped in woolen blankets. They had just endured half an hour of chilling tremors, their skin covered with goosebumps, their lips and nails turning blue, faces pale as snow, bodies and teeth shaking uncontrollably.


    Aside from Bruno, the other five sailors who accompanied him also exhibited similar symptoms of chills and fever, albeit less severe.


    "Truly the Devil¡¯s curse! May the Holy Mother bless us!" Bruno made the sign of the cross once more on his chest, now fully convinced that a powerful demon lurked in this land.


    After more than a day¡¯s journey, Paulo once again went through a severe and painful feverish period, this time for a full nine hours! To control his violent struggles, they had to tie him between two logs, then they could continue their journey amid his agonized screams.


    After a while, Paulo finally endured the terrible fever. Drenched in sweat, his clothes soaked through, the fierceness on his face gradually relaxed and an uncontrollable weariness came over him; he peacefully fell asleep on the log carried by the natives.


    "Meu deus! My God!" Bruno made the sign of the cross as he finally saw the pagan Temple and Altar.


    The Temple was constructed of wood and was not very tall. At the top of the Temple was the symbol of Voodoo, a white flag, symbolizing the White Sorcery and healing of Voodoo. The essence of "Vodu" is divine, spirit, meaning all things have Spirit. By communicating with the Spirits of all things, one can affect the changes in fortune and misfortune of the natural world.


    The most prominent decorations on the temple walls were carvings of snakes, the chief deity of the Voodoo faith, the Serpent divine. In addition, the walls were painted in black depicting the most important communicators with spirits, the ghostly figures. Various shapes of these spirits twisted and danced on the walls. Bruno looked closely and thought they resembled mosquitoes.


    Animal corpses hanging from the eaves of the temple walls, in the process of being air-dried, filled the air with a pungent stench; these were Voodoo ingredients in preparation, such as excitation-inducing dry python snakes, eagle corpses for transferring demon spirits, bald eagle feathers to ward off Black Sorcery, elephant tails blessing travel, dried lizards for medicinal use...


    Bruno, constantly calling upon God in his mind, surreptitiously studied the pagan Temple. Overwhelmed by the intense smell of decomposing bodies, he covered his nose, turned his head, and finally located the primary source of the stench: the Altar.


    The Altar in front of the Temple had three levels, with animal carcasses placed at the top. Numerous gigantic mosquitoes and flies gathered on the carcasses, covering them with a thick layer of wriggling film. Bruno took a while to confirm that the sacrificed animal was a black goat. The Voodoo symbol of the black goat is offspring¡¯s procreation, a cherished Sacrifice among various African tribes and also the origin of the Black Goat of the forest in later Cthulhu mythologies.


    At each corner of the Altar stood a Long Spear, each spearhead adorned with a dried human skull, the dark skulls still having flecks of white hair, presenting old and fierce faces silently staring at Bruno. A chill ran through the heart of the son of nobility.


    Bruno was filled with fear, yet he could not help but look closely. The second layer was more than a dozen aged human heads, most of which had turned into skulls over the long passage of time. The third layer was filled with countless heads of monkeys and orangutans, bearing faces resembling humans, each expression different¡ªsome bizarrely grinning, some profoundly sad, many displaying the terror of imminent death.


    "This is the Voodoo Altar. The esteemed Voodoo High Priest sacrifices the black goat to the ghostly Voodoo, praying for the prosperity of the tribe¡¯s offspring! These four skulls are from the most powerful Black Sorcery Priests in the nearby tribes. They were executed by the powerful Voodoo High Priest, offering their mana-filled skulls as a medium for communicating with the ghostly Voodoo."


    The second layer¡¯s dozen skulls are from evil Black Sorcery Priests, used to magnify the Altar¡¯s Mana. The third layer¡¯s hundreds of skulls come from monkeys and orangutans, intended to draw the gathering of ghostly Voodoo... The great Voodoo High Priest protects the tribe with White Sorcery, she is the incarnation of the ghostly in the human world!"


    The King¡¯s Translator declared loudly with awe and pride, this is the most magnificent Voodoo High Priest who shelters the Kingdom, a lineage that has protected the Citizens of the tribe through the ages.


    "This is Satan¡¯s Altar. The wickedly powerful Satan¡¯s Apostle sacrifices the spirits of humans and animals to Satan, in exchange for the prosperity of the tribe¡¯s progeny! These four skulls are from the most potent Demon¡¯s children in the nearby tribes, they use their evilly powerful skulls to open the gateway to Hell. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 113 - 77 The End of the Year 1482: Under the Protection of the Ancestral God - Part 2

    The second layer¡¯s dozen or so skulls all belonged to the powerful offspring of demons, supporting the channel for demons to pass into the human world. The third layer featured the skulls of monkeys and gorillas, pooling in mana for the practice of Black Magic... the terrifying apostle of Satan enveloped this land in Black Magic; she is the spokesperson of the Demon on earth!" S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When the Fang translator¡¯s words reached Bunoru¡¯s ears, he automatically translated the indigenous language into his own understanding. He tried to reach for the Silver Cross at his chest, but realized he had already given it to Mpemba Kasi. In the end, all he could do was to fearfully and tremulously draw a cross over his chest.


    "Meu Deus! Almighty Lord! Please grant me the strength to defeat evil. I pray to you, pray for your blessing, and make a vow of loyalty. I will definitely return with Divine Power and send all demons back to Hell, and purify all that is unclean with Fire!"


    Despite his fear, Bruno moved forward bravely. As he reached the entrance of the Temple, a row of masked Voodoo Warriors appeared before him.


    The Voodoo Warriors held sharp iron long knives and wore tight cowhide masks, with only three holes for the eyes and nose, and a pair of enormous cow horns atop the masks. This masked cow-head appearance signified their total commitment to Voodoo; henceforth, devoid of self and family, they would never remove their masks in this lifetime.


    Seeing the arrival of the King and the foreigner from afar, a Voodoo Priest came out of the Temple to greet everyone. The Voodoo Priest wore a brightly colored, terrifying red hardwood mask, adorned at the top with a monkey¡¯s skull. Behind the mask hung finely braided human hair, draping to the floor in hundreds of long strands, the materials of which one could not fathom how many people had contributed, dragging slowly on the ground.


    In Voodoo belief, the mask is an amplifier of spiritual force, and the skulls and human hair on the mask are decorations possessing natural forces. A mask often accompanies a Voodoo Priest throughout their life unless they become so powerful that they no longer need the mask.


    The party entered the grand hall of the Temple, and Bruno saw his Fang translator suddenly tremble violently, the uncontrollable fear evident on his face. Following the translator¡¯s gaze, he saw a row of expressionless black men; their complexions bluish, their eyes stiff, and their movements slow and steady, just standing quietly in front of a painting of the Serpent Divine.


    "Zumbi! The divine of the python, the mana of resurrection, the resurrected corpse!" the Fang translator whispered tremblingly to Bruno, uttering words he couldn¡¯t comprehend.


    The Serpent Divine is known by different names in different regions; in West Africa, it is called "Dambala," and in Central Africa¡¯s Congo, it is referred to as "Zumbi." It represents a lucky totem, the divine of the python, and it also signifies the mana of resurrection, which is the most famous resurrected corpse in Voodoo culture!


    In the future, when slaves from Congo were captured by colonizers and brought to the Caribbean Islands, to North America¡¯s Florida, its name gradually evolved into "Zombie," the term for the widely known American zombies.


    These resurrected corpses exist in history and reality, commonly understood to be living people in a state of suspended animation. Their spirits have been destroyed by the influence of psychoactive toxins primarily from pufferfish, yet their bodily functions remain intact.


    They can comprehend instructions based on past experience, eat, drink, excrete, sleep, and carry on with a normal life, performing slow and steady labor, handling simple, mechanical tasks. As they do not feel fatigue or pain, their bodies age very quickly, and they can typically only be used for ten-plus years before they truly exhaust themselves and die.


    Bruno did not understand the concept of resurrected corpses. Thus, his attention was soon captured by the High Priest of Voodoo in the center of the grand hall.


    She was an exceptionally old woman, seated on the floor, her head slightly bowed, her face unclear. She wore a simple vestment robe, decorated with an extended python and countless intricate, twisted patterns. Bruno felt that these patterns were very similar to those on the walls of the Temple, probably mosquitoes too.


    In front of the High Priest sat a giant Voodoo Box, and in her hands was a Magic Wand made from human bone. The top bore the skull of a previous High Priest who possessed great mana, and the handle was a human femur. She arranged several pale-headed African vervet monkey skulls on a wooden Divination tray, then carefully distinguished the patterns on the skulls under the dim candlelight.


    Hearing the footsteps of the newcomers, the Voodoo High Priest lifted her head. Time had taken all vitality from her skin, leaving her looking like a skeleton draped in human skin. Her old skin was deeply wrinkled, her face showing no expression. At this moment, she was using a pair of clear, unperturbed eyes to calmly observe the arrivals.


    "Respected High Priest, may Voodoo become one with you." Upon entering the grand hall, the King and the Samurai respectfully bowed their heads to the High Priest. Bruno struggled internally for a moment, then, fearing a glance at the baskets full of monkey skulls in the hall, he too bowed his head to Satan¡¯s apostle.


    "My children, the Ancestral Spirits protect you!" The Voodoo High Priest curved her lips into a kind smile. She watched the fair-skinned foreigner, taking a careful look at him.


    Silence fell in the grand hall of the Temple. The King and the Samurai stood speechless, the Fang translator shook uncontrollably, and also remained silent.


    After a while, Paulo woke from the intermittent comas and entered another cold spell. His body shook, his teeth chattered, and he weakly and softly cried out, "Fodesse! Cold, cold, I am so cold!"

 Chapter 114 - 77 The End of the Year 1482: Under the Protection of the Ancestral God - Part 3

    Everyone¡¯s gaze then focused on Paulo. Unable to contain himself any longer, Bruno finally spoke up, "Honorable High Priest, please help my companions heal from the curse on their bodies!"


    The Voodoo High Priest nodded slightly, and the masked Priest stepped forward, grabbed Paulo forcefully with both hands, and placed him in front of the High Priest. As Paulo trembled and flailed about, the High Priest slightly furrowed her brow. She opened the Voodoo Box, took out a small clay jar, pinched a bit of powder with her fingertips, and gently sprinkled it into the shrieking Paulo¡¯s mouth.


    Almost visibly to the naked eye, Paulo quickly quieted down. A smile emerged on his fierce face as he once again fell into a deep sleep. The tribal warriors all bowed their heads in fear, and Bruno, too, felt a shiver in his heart.


    This was a specially made Zombie Powder by Voodoo, mainly consisting of extracted pufferfish toxin and Mandragora juice. It also included powdered baby skulls, ground lizards and worms, and venomous liquid from toads¡¯ backs. These powerful neurotoxins and physical toxins, when properly proportioned, could achieve effects like poisoning, numbing, paralysis, feigning death, sedation, sleep aid, and pain relief.


    Of course, only seasoned Priests could master the specific ratios, and usually, the fresher the ingredients, the more potent the powder¡¯s effect. On the vast land of Africa, there was never a shortage of miraculous animals and plants.


    The Voodoo High Priest extended her withered arm, lifted the sleeping head of Paulo, used her finger to flip open the sailor¡¯s eyelid, and carefully observed the whitened retina. She gently shook her head.


    "The Lord¡¯s power has invaded his mind. He hasn¡¯t survived the Lord¡¯s test. This man is beyond saving," she said.


    With that, the High Priest placed Paulo on the ground. After thinking for a moment, she took out a sharp Sacrificial Dagger and accurately found a vein on Paulo¡¯s arm, making a small incision. Blood immediately started to seep from the cut. Witnessing this, Bruno felt an impulse to rush forward to stop Satan¡¯s Apostle, but quickly lost the courage to confront her.


    The High Priest pulled over Paulo¡¯s arm and gently licked the blood from the wound with her aged tongue.


    "Hmm? This taste..."


    A hint of surprise appeared on the High Priest¡¯s aged face.


    After a moment of thought, she looked around at the foreign people and noticed the trembling Yue Translator. She smiled kindly.


    "Child, come here, let me taste you."


    With accumulated knowledge over time, the High Priest could now speak the Yue language directly.


    The Yue Translator suddenly lost his strength and fell to his knees. Trembling like a leaf, he still obeyed the High Priest¡¯s command and crawled to her feet. Suddenly, he seemed to remember something, tore off the cross on his chest, then bowed his head to the ground, offering total submission.


    The Voodoo High Priest dipped her finger in some Zombie Powder, gently lifted the Yue Translator¡¯s head, and smeared a bit at his nose. Soon, the Yue Translator stopped trembling. He remained conscious, his face breaking into a joyous smile, compliantly allowing the High Priest to manipulate him.


    The Voodoo High Priest grabbed the Yue Translator¡¯s arm, made a precise cut just as she had done with Paulo. Red blood slowly seeped out, and the aged tongue once again savored it, carefully discerning the taste.


    "Hmm, these foreigners... they really are different from us..."


    The Voodoo High Priest then looked kindly at the Yue Translator.


    "Child, how long have you been on this land?"


    "The days of two palms..." the Yue Translator answered submissively.


    "Is that so? Is it like that?... So quickly... It seems they really are different..." the Voodoo High Priest mused with a meaningful smile. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Voodoo High Priest waved her hand, allowing the Yue Translator to return. He retreated on his knees until he stopped by Bruno¡¯s side. Bruno shivered within, praying for the Lord¡¯s power to protect him from the manipulation of Satan¡¯s Apostle.


    Next, the Voodoo High Priest beckoned, instructing the Priest to bring the other foreigners one by one. She tasted each foreigner¡¯s blood, her eyes growing increasingly bright. Until it was Bruno¡¯s turn.


    "Child, you are very healthy! The Lord has not chosen you." The High Priest looked kindly at Bruno, sniffing his scent while the Yue Translator obediently translated nearby.


    Bruno trembled, managing to endure the wet disgust of the tongue licking his arm. The Lord still gave him courage, and he bravely and stubbornly met Satan¡¯s Apostle¡¯s gaze.


    "Your three companions have not survived the Lord¡¯s test, the Lord¡¯s power has invaded their brains. They are beyond help, leave them behind. The rest of you are still in the midst of a life-and-death test. Here is a Potion, drink it and you will be temporarily safe for a week. Go now, and do not return. In any case, the Lord¡¯s test will ultimately come until you die, or merge with it!"


    The Voodoo High Priest looked kindly at Bruno, who carried the Heavenly Divine¡¯s greetings, temporarily delaying the Lord¡¯s arrival. But on this land, everyone must undergo the Lord¡¯s test, death or life, with no escape!


    "Your three companions have been chosen by Satan, Satan¡¯s power has made them completely corrupt. They are beyond help, their souls must be sacrificed to the Demon. The rest are also eroding in the Demon¡¯s power. Here is the Demon¡¯s Potion, which will preserve your safety for a week. Leave the Demon¡¯s land, do not come back. As long as you are on the Demon¡¯s land, you will inevitably be eroded by Satan¡¯s power, either to die or fall and become the Citizens of the Demon!"

 Chapter 115 - 77: The End of the Year 1482 Part 4 - Ancestral God’s Blessing

    When the translation reached Bruno¡¯s ears, he once again interpreted everything according to his own perception. His body trembled, fear surged from deep within his heart, and he reluctantly took the Voodoo Priest¡¯s potion, then staggered backward.


    Bruno conveyed his understanding to everyone, and the sailors looked in horror at the three peacefully lying sailors on the ground, then at the Devil¡¯s Potion in Bruno¡¯s hand with complex expressions. After a moment of hesitation, the remaining five sailors still drank the emerald potion one after another, a strange taste spreading out that relaxed their expressions.


    The sailors then immediately prepared to leave, but Bruno remembered something and turned back.


    "I will take my brothers¡¯ belongings."


    The Voodoo High Priest nodded kindly.


    Only then did Bruno step forward. He forcefully pulled apart Paulo¡¯s arms crossed in front of his chest, reached into his good brother¡¯s chest and searched repeatedly, finally pulling out two pure gold bracelets, a piece of ivory, and a glittering peacock stone.


    The other sailors also came to a realization, and they took the belongings of the remaining two sleeping sailors.


    "Paulo, my brother! Rest assured, I will find your sister and take good care of her, if she is still alive." Bruno made a fraternal pledge to Paulo, took one last look at his brother¡¯s peaceful sleeping face, and turned to leave.


    The sailors almost fled, sprinting away from the Temple. The tribal Translator also quietly slipped away with them. As they left the Temple and saw the sunlight, Bruno devoutly prayed and promised inwardly.


    "Meu deus! Almighty Lord! Please forgive our sins and save us from the fires of Hell. Take the souls of everyone, especially those who need Your mercy, to Heaven! I will definitely return with divine power, send Satan¡¯s Angel Envoy to Hell forever, and let the devil¡¯s land be purified in flames! Tenho saudades! I miss you! Farewell, my brother."


    Watching the fleeing foreigners and recalling the bloodstained gold bracelets, the Voodoo High Priest frowned. She sensed an ominous sign.


    "Prepare the Altar, I need to conduct a sacrificial divination, to ask the great ancestral gods about the future!" the High Priest commanded her subordinates.


    The priests with the bright red masks respectfully saluted. They each took a basket of monkeys, gorillas, and leopards¡¯ skulls, then went outside to provide more mana mediums for the Altar.


    At this moment, King Nzinga Mbemba, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up.


    "Respected Voodoo High Priest, what exactly are the ancestral gods?"


    The Voodoo High Priest smiled kindly.


    "The ancestral gods are the lords of this land, present with us for tens of thousands of years. Invisible and intangible, yet they are always by our side. The ancestral gods bestow boundless strength, giving us trials of life and death, evolving our flesh, our blood, and our spirits in these trials. The ancestral gods are one with us!


    The ancestral gods test us mercilessly, yet also mercifully protect us. They have bestowed an endless barrier on this warm land, eternally promising the land to Their children. Under the scorching sun, those pale-skinned foreigners cannot stay long, for their bodies cannot survive the trials of the ancestral gods, this is the land granted to us by the gods!"


    With that, the Voodoo High Priest stood up, holding the Human Bone Staff and wielding the powerful Voodoo Box, and slowly walked towards the Altar outside the great hall. The Temple priests stripped off the clothes of the three foreign men, then directed the revived corpses. These expressionless strong men then slowly lifted the unconscious naked foreigners, closely following behind the High Priest.


    The King also followed silently with the Samurai. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Altar had already been cleaned, the black goat had been removed, and the base was filled with various animal skulls. The masked priests directed the revived corpses to place one unconscious pale-skinned foreigner on top of the Altar.


    The Voodoo High Priest opened the Voodoo Box, gently took out a bottle of powder, and poured it onto her right hand. The powder was made from male mosquitoes and added with unknown Herbs.


    The Voodoo High Priest stretched her right hand towards the sky, and countless bloodthirsty female mosquitoes converged. Her right hand was instantly covered by mosquitoes, and more mosquitoes gathered around her, forming a visible black mist. These mosquitoes were unexpectedly gentle, not sucking blood, but peacefully accompanying the High Priest. The whirling of the mosquito swarm created a breeze that fluttered the High Priest¡¯s Vestment robe, as if accompanying God¡¯s envoy.


    The King and Samurai bowed their heads in fear, saluting the Voodoo High Priest. The High Priest¡¯s voice seemed to come from a distant wind.


    "Behold, these beautiful spirits, these messengers of the ancestral gods. In the warm sunlight, by the calm waters, countless spirits protect us, guarding the land of the ancestral gods. They are so benevolent, bringing trials from the ancestral gods to everyone, letting the citizens of the gods stay while taking the foreigners away forever. The spirits tirelessly guard our land!"


    An unusually radiant smile appeared on the aged face of the Voodoo High Priest. She drank a bottle of Divination Potion in one gulp, the hallucinogenic mushrooms and Herbs starting to blur her vision, and the swarm of mosquitoes formed strange and ambiguous shapes.


    "Begin!" the High Priest softly called.


    The Voodoo Priest with the red mask did not hesitate to lift the Sacrificial Dagger, and carved marks on the face, arms, chest, and thighs of the first pale-skinned foreigner. The scent of blood instantly diffused.

 Chapter 116 - 77 The End of 1482 Part 4 - The Blessing of the Ancestral Gods_5

    The swarm of mosquitoes surrounding the High Priest halted neatly, then abruptly changed direction, swarming over the foreign Sacrifices on the Altar. The white skin was almost instantly covered by the black swarm, the insects dancing furiously in the air, drawing fresh blood.


    The Voodoo High Priest¡¯s vision blurred with illusions as the dance of mosquitoes became a vague tableau. In an infinite hallucination, she saw the white-skinned terror coming from the northwest, aboard huge sailing ships, with roaring weapons capable of spitting fire, cruelly destroying everything along the coast. Then, they landed, greedily snatching the land¡¯s Wealth, Gold, Silver, Gemstones, Ivory, and spices.


    "Is it so, is it like this?... The white-skinned foreigners will come from over the sea... They bring relentless slaughter and destruction... They plunder the land¡¯s riches..."


    The mosquitoes sucked the sleeping foreigner¡¯s blood at a rate of 40 milliliters per second. The human body contains only about 5000 milliliters of blood; in less than two minutes, the foreigner became a mummy, peaceful and serene, under the mosquitoes¡¯ anesthetic toxin. Gradually, the swarm calmed from its frenzy.


    "Not enough, not enough, continue, I want to see more!"


    The second Sacrifice was brought to the Altar, likewise covered in cuts and soon enveloped in black by the swarm, the sky continuing to whirl with shifting shapes.


    Once more, the Voodoo High Priest was engulfed in visions. The white-skinned foreigners occupied the inland towns, then fell one by one to the ancestral Spirits¡¯ trials. They retreated awkwardly from the Rainforest, crying out about the land of the Demon, taking away all the Wealth, and also capturing the Ancestral Spirits¡¯ Citizens. The Citizens were loaded onto huge sailing ships, heading west. The Spirits of the Ancestors followed onto the ship, sailing towards the unknown West.


    "Is it so, is it like this?... The white-skinned foreigners cannot withstand the test of the Ancestral Spirits... They capture the Citizens of the Ancestors... Taking the Spirits of the Ancestors... to the West... Continue!"


    Paulo was finally brought to the Altar. He smiled peacefully, happily living with his sister and brother Bruno in his smile, forgetting all past sins. Then the endless swarm descended, giving him eternal rest.


    The Voodoo High Priest approached the swarm uncontrollably, she wanted to see a little clearer.


    The Citizens of the Ancestor died en route, plunging into the sea until the end of the sailing ships¡¯ journey, which was another continent. That land too had warm sunlight, peaceful ponds, and the forever warm Jungle. There, the Ancestors¡¯ Citizens were laid down, burdened with shackles and chains, toiling painfully in the fields, while the white men casually severed their limbs and slit their throats. However, before the Citizens of the Ancestors, the Spirits had already set off; they proliferated infinitely among the ponds and then soared toward the far-off lands promised by the Ancestors.


    "Is it so, is it like this?... The white men take the Ancestors¡¯ Citizens... to a similarly warm land in the West... The Spirits of the Ancestors also spread... Not enough, not enough, I want to see more!"


    The Voodoo High Priest finally stepped onto the Altar. The swarm enveloped her densely, like docile pets.


    "I have lived through ninety rainy seasons, and my soul will soon return to Voodoo. Let me use my own blood to see clearly the future foretold by the Ancestors..."


    The Voodoo High Priest muttered to herself. She shed her Vestment robe, revealing a withered and emaciated body, then unhesitatingly swung the sacrificial Dagger, slicing her upper body until it was drenched in blood.


    The swarm hesitated for a moment, then once again became frenzied. They covered the High Priest like pets devouring their owner. Her gaunt body contained even less blood, and in less than half a minute, the Voodoo High Priest fell into visions on the brink of death.


    She saw the swarm proliferating endlessly in the Rainforest, then flying deep into the Jungle. Wherever the Spirits of the Ancestors flew, everything was forever changed. Countless yellow-skinned natives fell in unending fever and agony, and the white-skinned foreigners could not stay long in this place.


    Only the descendants of the ancestral gods, only those of black skin, can truly take root! They proliferate ceaselessly on this vast land, growing stronger through hardship, and their tribe flourishes more and more until the distant future filled with hope!


    "Is that so, is it really so?... The spirit of the ancestral gods forever changed the land under the sun, and the descendants of the ancestral gods struggle to proliferate and grow strong upon it! With the sacrifice of our people¡¯s flesh and blood, we exchanged for our rooted land and our prosperous future, this is the protection of the ancestral gods!"


    "So it is! The promised land of the ancestral gods lies in the West..."


    The Voodoo High Priest mumbled to herself, facing the lands of the West, her face filled with the tranquility and satisfaction of impending death. She smiled, and finally opened her mouth, tasting the spirit of the ancestral gods, and thus she fell according to the prophecy of the ancestral gods, leaving no regrets. Beneath her lay the shriveled corpses of Paulo and the other sailors.


    Witnessing the final sacrifice of the Voodoo High Priest, the King was caught in a mix of disbelief and joy.


    "The High Priest has gone completely mad! This terrible old woman actually sacrificed herself! She is finally dead!... I will never allow such a High Priest to emerge again, the foreigners are right, the power of a king should not be interfered with by the priesthood! I will convert to the merciful cross-shaped stone heavenly divine!"


    Meanwhile, thousands of miles to the West, the morning sun had just risen above Lake Texcoco, illuminating the great city of Tenochtitlan in the midst of the lake. Accompanied respectfully by the Chief Priest Quetzal, an exceptionally aged old man stepped out of the Great Temple, frowning as he looked toward the northwest. Just now, Quetzal had brought him the news of Tizoc¡¯s death. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the distant mountain encampments, Xiulote watched the sunrise to the East and sighed softly.


    By now, the Europeans should have reached the Congo, unleashing Pandora¡¯s box. The malaria mosquito and Aedes mosquito would come with the fleets of Europeans, flying to the warm and hot rainforests of America, turning the presently populous tropical regions into desolate and dangerous wastelands.


    In 1519 when the Spaniards first explored the Amazon River basin, it was a place of lush aquatic plants and teeming populations, where countless tribes relied on the abundant tropical food for survival.


    Yet a hundred years later, when English and French explorers came again, it turned into a barren domain deserted of people, with the Indian peoples having disappeared. Two-thirds of the white explorers also died of malaria and yellow fever on their journeys, forcing them to return prematurely.


    The malaria mosquito brought certain death with malaria, and the Aedes mosquito carried near-fatal yellow fever and dengue fever. In places these African mosquitoes passed through, the rainforests of America were reshaped, no longer suitable for Indians and whites to inhabit!


    From the Brazilian tropical rainforest to the Amazon tropical rainforest, to Venezuela, Colombia in South America, to Panama, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala in Central America, then to Cuba, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and the Caribbean archipelago, and even to Louisiana and Florida in North America!


    All places enshrouded by the tropical rainforest, all places where African mosquitoes roamed, malaria, yellow fever, and dengue fever would forever persist in the tropics, never to leave. The yellow-skinned brethren in the rainforests would die powerlessly and in despair, Indians would no longer be able to proliferate and grow, they couldn¡¯t even find a foothold.


    The tropical rainforests of America would no longer be the home of Indians, nor the land for whites to thrive, they would forever belong to those of black skin! Even three hundred years later, white colonizers could only huddle in the clean towns of the tropics, leaving the fields, forests, and rivers to hundreds of times more black slaves.


    The tropics of America would be forever changed, unstoppable by anyone, this, is the protection of the ancestral gods of Black Africa!

 Chapter 117 - 78 The Original Cast

    October¡¯s morning sun rose into the sky, illuminating the dawn in the East, spreading the hope of a new day.


    Xiulote gasped for breath, his body drenched in sweat. He had just completed his morning agility training. Despite having drunk some alcohol the night before and talking late into the night with his father, he still woke up before dawn and underwent Bertade¡¯s Samurai training.


    Bertade nodded in satisfaction. The youth¡¯s martial arts had taken root, and he had reached a level of proficiency. He could now anticipate his enemy¡¯s attacks, and his body was able to keep up with his mind¡¯s reactions to dodge effectively. Now, as the weather was gradually getting colder, it was time to switch to willpower training that endured the cold.


    After training, the young man silently admired the magnificent sun, with familiar melodies occasionally surfacing in his mind, bringing long-lost memories.


    As for everything happening across the distant waters of the East, he was still powerless. The tide of the age had begun, and everyone would rise and fall within it. Great individuals would go with the flow and carve their own paths through the waves.


    The strength of any nation and civilization originated from the trials and sacrifices during its growth and from the national characteristics forged through unity. The tribes of Black Africa had endured tropical diseases for tens of thousands of years to evolve their physical bodies, gaining strong resistance, and establishing a foundation in the tropical regions of the New World. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the future, these diasporas from Black Africa scattered across the New World would also endure more than four hundred years of hardship before they would gradually unite their identity through the recognition of Voodoo culture, shaping their spirit of "Negritude", and eventually break free from the colonialism and racism imposed by the West.


    A nascent American civilization would inevitably go through countless difficulties and sacrifices, numerous diseases, and sacrifices to forge itself into shape. Like the Celestial Empire across the ocean, it would form a unified national consciousness, as well as a resilient and industrious national trait, to truly stand tall among the world¡¯s nations.


    As long as there are people and land, there is hope for the future. As long as there is an unbroken lineage, there will be a day when national character coalesces.


    Xiulote hoped he could become a guide for the civilization of Central America, protecting it through its most perilous moments. He wanted to ensure that its vulnerable infancy wouldn¡¯t die in bud, wouldn¡¯t have to shave their heads, change clothes and kneel in submission, and wouldn¡¯t have the spiritual backbone pulled out by Missionaries, forever losing their native cultural confidence.


    This land was his new home. He wanted to watch his nation and civilization grow strong, to grow into upright trees, bloom into vibrant flowers, and bear the fruits of prosperity!


    The youth longed for this and then smiled bitterly in his mind. The hallucinogenic potion from Gillim still had side effects, making his thoughts wander and preventing him from concentrating fully.


    Xiulote went back into his house, had a simple breakfast of corn tortillas and black bean paste, and discussed the marching plan with Bertade. Then, he looked at the time, assuming everyone had eaten breakfast. The youth donned his Leather Armor, put on his Beast Helmet, wore the Priest¡¯s war robe, and majestically summoned the war generals.


    The first to arrive was Kuluka, a commoner by birth. He wore a simple war robe and bowed slightly as he entered, his quick eyes scanning over Xiulote¡¯s masked helmet and the upright Bertade, before respectfully bowing his head in greeting.


    "Merciful Priest Commander, may you always be fortunate in war!"


    Xiulote nodded slightly, indicating for Kuluka to sit beside him. The Monkey Warrior carefully sat down cross-legged. It seemed after Aweit¡¯s sharp words, Kuluka had become much more submissive. But to truly win over the spirited commoner commander¡¯s loyalty wasn¡¯t going to happen overnight.


    The youth was unsure about the upper limit of the commoner commander¡¯s talents but was certain he was smart, had nimble hands, and his math was good enough to handle complex military and administrative tasks. The youth had high hopes for Kuluka but not enough trust.


    Xiulote was convinced that under normal circumstances, he could command the commoner commander. But if they faced a real disadvantage... Well, it was best to avoid such situations for now. Upon returning to the Capital, he would still want to conscript Kuluka¡¯s son into the army in the name of teaching him to read and write.


    Then, Balda, who was born to a minor noble, arrived. This warrior was rather straightforward. He wore his finest Armor, with a face that showed three parts submission and seven parts reluctance, to serve the man who was once just a little War Priest.


    Xiulote smiled faintly, stood up, and warmly took Balda¡¯s hand, also guiding him to sit beside him. Kuluka subtly bowed his head, hiding his expression, while his gaze moved onto Balda.


    Balda was slightly surprised, and finally, a smile spread across his face. He bowed and said,


    "Priest Commander Xiulote, may the War God bless us!"


    "May the War God be with us!" Xiulote responded with a smile.


    In the judgment of the young commander, Balda¡¯s mind was relatively straightforward¡ªhe was a traditional Samurai. He possessed the sense of honor typical of a Samurai and demonstrated sufficient loyalty after he pledged allegiance. Based on his performance during the initial engagement, it was clear he was a valiant War General capable of leading an army of three thousand men without the slightest issue. As for his other abilities, they would have to be evaluated based on his future performance.


    Then came the supply officer of commoner origin, Begire. The tall and thin supply officer had a pale complexion, indicating that his days in custody had not treated him well. He wore a simple robe, even sporting patches in places. Upon entering, he knelt on one knee and paid Xiulote a respectful tribute.


    "Honored Priest, I thank you for your assistance. In the name of the Guardian God, I am ready to serve you!"


    Xiulote returned the salute with equal solemnity and gestured for Begire to sit. The supply officer maintained a strict posture, sitting up straight. The young commander appreciated his discipline and seriousness, and he had specifically requested him to be released from captivity at the camp, preparing to put him in charge of managing the army¡¯s provisions and expenses.


    The young commander had already asked the Head Warrior to prepare a basket of food with a long shelf life, a sack of daily necessities, several bolts of versatile cotton fabric, and two sets of fine clothes. After the military council meeting concluded, he intended to hand these items over to the supply officer Begire to improve his quality of life.


    The last to arrive was the teacher Olosh, of noble origin. The warriors of Jaguar, fully armed, entered with big strides. With a stern face, Olosh bowed to Xiulote and performed a courteous salute.


    "Respected Commander-in-Chief, may the War God be with us!"


    Xiulote returned the salute solemnly and then gave a nod of acknowledgment. Olosh did not hesitate to sit cross-legged opposite the young commander. Olosh had agreed with him the night before that the young commander had to maintain the dignity of the Commander-in-Chief today.


    In the heart of the young commander, the 3,200 Teotihuacan warriors led by Olosh were truly his core Personal Army, capable of fighting for him to the very last moment!


    Head Warrior Bertade, the monkey Kuluka, the young nobleman Balda, supply officer Begire, and the ally Olosh¡ªthese were the initial mainstays of his own legion. Xiulote pondered with feeling, his expression calm and serious.


    The military council was conducted swiftly and efficiently, as Xiulote had plans already formed in his mind, and now he issued his orders one by one. Olosh was to lead the 3,000 City-State Warriors and 200 Jaguar warriors as the primary group of his central forces, to move together with his banner of command, serving as the core strength of the legion.


    Bertade was to lead the original 3,000 direct Samurai as the second group forming the rearguard. These warriors, having experienced the southern campaign and the battles against Tizoc and Totec, demonstrated noticeably higher loyalty and were now suited to rest in the position of rearguard. From among them, five hundred were to be handed over to the supply officer Begire, who would lead 5,000 Militia to guard the supply transport and fortify camps along the route. Upon hearing his appointment, Begire¡¯s lean face slightly blushed with a mix of excitement and joy that was hard to hide.


    The 4,000 direct warriors from the main camp at Xilotepec were to form the third group, the Vanguard. These warriors had been conserving their energy for some time now and were well-suited to serve as the advance force.


    Kuluka was given 3,000 of them to launch the initial assault on the next mountain encampment. Tizoc had abandoned this site during his all-out battle, and now it was occupied by a few hundred Otomi guerrilla fighters. Balda, on the other hand, was tasked to lead the remaining 1,000 men, ready to make contact with Casal, who was trapped at the first encampment.


    Once contact was made with Casal and he agreed to surrender, Casal¡¯s troops would be given to Balda to command. As for Casal himself... Xiulote thought for a moment that he certainly would not be able to command this experienced officer and decided it would be better to entrust him to Aweit.


    In addition to the 10,200 Samurai, Xiulote also had 500 private soldiers of followers and 150 Longbow Warriors. These were the Commander¡¯s Personal Guard, and he would temporarily lead them himself. A thousand troops are easy to obtain; one general is hard to come by. And finding a completely loyal Guard Captain was exceedingly difficult!


    Xiulote sighed softly. He remembered the young Samurai who had died for him in the Otomi attack, Kusola¡ªa man who would have made an excellent Captain of the Personal Guard.


    Continuing to reflect, the young commander also recalled the simple Samurai, Ters, who had accompanied him during his first capture. He asked Olosh to bring Ters over and place him among his followers for an initial observation period. Lastly, the young commander instructed Bertade to carefully select from among the followers and recommend a trustworthy candidate for Captain of the Personal Guard.


    After the military council concluded, the commanders dispersed, each rallying their warriors. The young commander personally grasped the hand of the supply officer Begire, handing him the prepared fine clothes and gifts. Begire was slightly stunned before bowing deeply to accept these gifts. Then, he knelt on both knees to show his allegiance, turned away with emotion, and left.


    Watching the departing commanders, the young commander removed his helmet, finally revealing his delicate yet resolute face. He mulled over the reactions of his generals, learning how to be a qualified commander, growing steadily stronger.


    After half a day of mobilizing the troops, the forces assembled. As the midday sun shone down, lighting up the woodland paths, 11,000 warriors donned their Armor and shields, marching off towards the West, carrying a surge of murderous intent. Five thousand Militia struggled under the weight of twenty days¡¯ food supplies for 20,000 men, slowly following behind. More supplies would be continuously delivered in the future.


    Under Aweit¡¯s distant gaze, the Xiulote legion gradually disappeared into the dense forest. The King smiled slightly; the fledgling eagle would finally spread its wings and soar above the vast Highland!

 Chapter 118 - 79 Poet

    The army marched westward, and the Otomi people retreated one after another. Three days later, when Xiulote arrived at the third mountain campsite, what lay before him was a bustling work site.


    Kuluka had already taken control of the campsite and was directing the warriors to repair the damaged fences. The Otomi people had hurriedly evacuated upon seeing the vanguard of the warrior group from a distance, setting fire to the campsite before they left.


    Kuluka didn¡¯t go after the fleeing militia. He arranged for the warriors to quickly extinguish the fire and then made simple repairs to the damaged fences. Everything was orderly, a testament to his experience with construction. Of course, the fire was quickly put out mostly because there was really nothing much to burn in the campsite.


    "Priest Commander-in-Chief, by the time we reached the campsite, it was completely empty; nothing was left. We couldn¡¯t even find a moldy cornbread! In this situation, even the warehouse rats would starve and weep."


    Kuluka chuckled bitterly; he was amazed at the Otomi people¡¯s scavenging abilities.


    "No, there wouldn¡¯t be any rats in the warehouse." Xiulote looked around the warehouse and made a joke. "Because the Otomi people would have caught them to eat!"


    The more the young man saw, the more certain he became that the Otomi people were in their most difficult moments. Hunger was tormenting them every second, at least for the Otomi militia that was certainly the case.


    After a brief inspection of the campsite, Xiulote commanded Kuluka¡¯s vanguard to stop their work and rest. Especially the thousand warriors led by Balda needed to conserve their energy and be ready for a sudden combat assault.


    After a moment¡¯s thought, the young man still decided to send out two hundred precious Holy City Jaguar Warriors as forest scouts and spearheads. In military operations, the primary task was to clear the fog of war and understand the enemy¡¯s information. Scouting military intelligence was of utmost importance and required the deployment of the most elite troops. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He instructed these elite battle groups to be cautious and watch over each other in teams of ten. Their priority was their own safety, then to investigate the intelligence of the second campsite, and finally to search the forest for the scattered three thousand City-State Warriors.


    Then, Olosh led the warriors of Teotihuacan to make simple repairs to the outermost fences of the campsite. Once Bertade¡¯s rear army caught up, Xiulote immediately sent the four thousand vanguard troops on their way.


    The young man handed the complicated follow-up tasks to the experienced Head Warrior, telling him to continue repairing the campsite, search for the whereabouts of the allies, arrange for Begire¡¯s militia, store food, and establish a supply route.


    Afterward, Commander-in-Chief Xiulote, with more than six hundred of his personal guard and Olosh¡¯s three thousand central troops, closely followed the vanguard toward the second campsite.


    The central army marched westward for two days, gathering military intelligence like water along the way. Scouts found traces of large groups of Otomi people. Two thousand Otomi Warriors and four thousand militia were surrounding them, and the second western campsite was still holding out, with an unknown number of troops inside.


    Xiulote then took back command of the vanguard, ordering the warriors to quickly tighten their formation and march in secret. As the sun climbed to its zenith and its bright light once again illuminated the forest trail, he heard the clear cry of an eagle again. Olosh translated, "Enemy to the west, less than half a day¡¯s distance, specific actions unknown."


    Xiulote hesitated no more. With the advantage in troop numbers in his hand, there was no reason to fight a confused night battle. He immediately summoned Balda.


    "Your thousand warriors are to unload all their marching gear and rest for a quarter of an hour, then quickly strike westward. The Jaguar Warriors will guide you. Do not linger, disregard the rabble, and stick to the enemy¡¯s warrior camp! Kuluka¡¯s three thousand will follow shortly."


    "Balda, you are a brave Mexica warrior; don¡¯t disappoint me!" Xiulote gazed sternly into Balda¡¯s eyes and firmly grasped his hand.


    With a flushed face, Balda knelt on one knee, letting the young man tower over him as he lowered his head and loudly agreed.


    After a quarter of an hour, Balda, bearing his Battle Shield and club, led a thousand assault warriors on their mission, with Kuluka¡¯s three thousand warriors closely following behind.


    Xiulote was certain the Otomi people had already learned of the army¡¯s westward advance¡ªlike rabbits prepared for action, they would bolt into the forest at the slightest disturbance.


    A thousand-strong assault team could be hidden to the greatest extent in the forest, approach close enough, launch the charge, and hold off the enemy¡¯s warriors. Once the following three thousand warriors arrived, the opponents would be left with the choice to die fighting or surrender.


    Olosh looked at Xiulote and smiled contentedly. Moments later, the central army¡¯s three thousand warriors took the vanguard¡¯s marching rations and supplies, fully armed, and headed west as well.


    By evening, half a day later, as the sun slightly tilted westward, cooking smoke rose not far away¡ªthe Otomi people were starting a fire to prepare food. As was customary, the two thousand warriors gathered on the safer inner side, while the four thousand militia were scattered on the outskirts. The occasional loud cry of an eagle sounded in the woods; the militia outside looked up at the sky, seeing nothing.


    The militia had no mood to observe carefully; after all, there were some scouts stationed on the outskirts. They were worried about their daily rations. As the Mexica campsite opposite was short of food, so were the Otomi people.


    Having besieged the campsite for two weeks, the nearby wild fruits, vegetables, rodents, and insects had all been dug up and scrounged clean by the militia. Now they could only endure hardship daily, waiting for the noble warriors to provide them with some coarse grains, which they would boil with tree leaves into a thin porridge to barely sustain them.


    Under the command of the Otomi Warriors, the militia had launched several attacks, each being repulsed by the three hundred Mexica warriors along with several thousand militia from the campsite. The attacks resulted in significant casualties with little effect. After some probing and debate, the Otomi Warriors ultimately did not personally join the fight. Instead, they simply sealed off the campsite, waiting for the Mexica to break out.

 Chapter 119 - 79 Poet_2

    Another clear cry of an eagle rang out, and within the camp, a Mexica samurai around thirty years old lifted his head to gaze at the sky to the East. The samurai had a handsome face and a pair of melancholic eyes, yet the corners of his mouth held a faint, almost imperceptible smile.


    He must be the Warrior Captain of the camp, and beside him, a group of samurais stood clustered. The samurais were plainly dressed, their faces gaunt with hunger and exhaustion, showing clear signs of starvation.


    "Balamo, what are you looking at? Sigh, though the sky is filled with birds, we cannot catch them, nor turn them into meat in our stomachs," a middle-aged samurai joked, his spirits still decent despite the starvation.


    The melancholic Warrior Captain let out a small smile, reciting with a touch of poetry:


    "I am watching that eagle, hiding in the sky hundreds of meters high, hiding in the clouds, hiding in a place far, far away, impossible to find. But I know, in the woodland hundreds of meters away, you have come quietly, on the ground, between the trees, bringing the sound of death."


    The surrounding samurais sighed with resignation, guessing that the captain was delirious from hunger, once again reciting poetry that no one was interested in. Reciting any amount of poetry at this time wouldn¡¯t be as satisfying as a hearty meal.


    After reciting the poem, Balamo¡¯s expression turned stern, as he loudly ordered, "The reinforcements have arrived! Mobilize the elite Militia, samurais prepare for battle, ready to march from the camp at any moment!"


    The samurais looked at each other, then bowing their heads to take orders, quickly mobilized the Militia within the camp. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Two quarters of an hour passed since the eagle¡¯s cry. The samurais murmured doubts, wondering if hunger had driven the captain mad. Just then, a troop of Mexica samurais burst from the mountain forests. With shields raised and War Clubs lowered, the fierce Balda leading them, they plunged into the Otomi Militia, heading straight for the samurais in the middle of their meal.


    Balamo also shouted orders, and the gate of the camp flew open. Flanked by a group of samurais, he rushed at the Otomi Warriors from another side, while three hundred gaunt Mexica samurais also attacked simultaneously. Behind them, two thousand Stone Spear Militia cried out, keeping the opposing Otomi Militia firmly engaged.


    Confronted with Balda¡¯s ambush, the five hundred Otomi Warriors on the outermost alert charged forward, while the remaining one thousand five hundred warriors began to ready themselves, only to be caught off-guard by Balamo¡¯s three hundred. Balda didn¡¯t entangle himself with the five hundred warriors coming to meet him. He sent three hundred to engage them while the main body of warriors shifted slightly to ram into the one thousand five hundred disorganized Otomi from the side.


    The Mexica and Otomi warriors quickly tangled in combat, with the Otomi Commander making several attempts to regroup his troops, only to have his efforts disrupted by Balda¡¯s fearless charges. Roaring furiously, every time he saw a large gathering of Otomi warriors, he led dozens to charge fiercely.


    Seeing an opportunity, Balamo also led over a hundred warriors, closely following behind Balda, scattering the Otomi again and again, preventing the enemy from forming into battle formations, from dividing into front and rear echelons.


    The two sides¡¯ Militia also clashed. Compared to the samurais, the starving Militia fought more mildly. Large groups of Militia clustered together, then shouted loudly at each other. They swung Stone Spears and Wooden Spears, slowly drawing closer, then pierced the soft bodies of the enemy, creating bloodied wounds, until one side couldn¡¯t withstand anymore, scattered backward, and quickly collapsed. Another group of Militia would move in, taking over the position in combat, tangling again.


    The Militia¡¯s battle wasn¡¯t intense, but due to the lack of armor, casualties on both sides were significant. The fight lasted just under two quarters of an hour, and both sides suffered three to four hundred injured Militia, their formations scattered and disorderly.


    The samurais from both sides had each lost a hundred warriors. With the Otomi Commander¡¯s efforts, the disorganized fifteen hundred warriors finally managed to form into three units of five hundred troops each. One unit barely held Balda while the other two units of one thousand warriors prepared to surround and focus their forces, planning to swiftly eliminate Balamo¡¯s three hundred.


    The Mexica warriors roared, ready to fight to the death as they saw the encircling Otomi. Amidst the roaring, a discordant, deep recitation echoed subtly.


    Balamo let out a soft sigh. Realizing the situation was grim, he stood pensively in the center of the army formation, protected by the shields of his warriors, and looked toward the sunset in the West.


    "We pass through cornfields stripped bare, we pass by the sinking sun, we slowly march toward the end, without the need of others¡¯ urging... The battlefield makes me shiver and feel cold, for my garment is but gossamer, how could it defend against the chill of impending death..."


    Fortunately, on the battlefields of Central America, powerful bows and arrows had not yet been widely adopted. Balamo didn¡¯t need to worry about being targeted by countless arrows during his poetic recitation. He waited quietly, then from the East came a continuing roar and the excited cheers of the Mexica warriors.


    Three thousand direct warriors of Kuluka finally appeared on the edge of the woodlands and then, without hesitation, dove into the tangled battle formation. The Otomi Commander made a quick estimate of the number of Mexica reinforcements and let out a resigned sigh.


    The one thousand warriors surrounding Balamo moved quickly, retreating directly toward the western mountains. Then, the sharp sound of a conch shell rose, and the morale of the other thousand Otomi warriors in the battle formation wavered. They fought while gradually retreating. The battle entered a new phase of fleeing and pursuit.

 Chapter 120 - 79 Poet_3

    Balamo sighed in resignation. His poem was not yet finished, but his melancholy mood vanished in an instant, his inspiration gone. He could only wave his war club to the west, and the three hundred samurai bit down on the Otomi¡¯s retreating tail, in hot pursuit.


    No one paid attention to the Otomi militia for the moment. These conscripted village warriors glanced at one another and then scattered in all directions, fleeing tumultuously. As they left, the militia didn¡¯t forget to take as much food from the camp as possible. Next, they would certainly not return to the western army but instead embarked on the long journey home, seeking family members whose fates were unknown. If, by fortune, they found their loved ones, they could begin to consider how to survive the famine-stricken winter.


    The Mexica militia didn¡¯t pursue the fleeing Otomi militia either. They formed small groups with their primitive stone spears, attempting to capture any living Otomi warriors in armor. Capturing a true warrior would earn the militia food and cotton rewards. If they were strong and brave enough, they even had the chance to be promoted to the most basic rank of young warriors, opening the way to climb the social ladder. This was the only chance for Mexica peasants to change their fate!


    When Kuluka¡¯s three thousand elite samurai joined the battle, the initially retreating one thousand Otomi warriors quickly collapsed. Their tight formations dispersed and were engulfed in the tide of Mexica warriors in an instant. The other thousand Otomi warriors, who were retreating in an orderly manner, no longer hesitated. They abandoned the two hundred at the rear engaged by Balamo, dropped their heavy war clubs and wooden shields, and vanished quickly into the forests with only their short blades.


    The brilliant twilight illuminated the final struggle on the battlefield. Soon, darkness took away the sun¡¯s afterglow, as well as the martial prowess of the world. The vanguard samurai lit bonfires, opened the gates of the camp, and welcomed the arrival of the Commander-in-Chief of the central army.


    Xiulote approached with his helmet, facing the welcoming generals with a serene expression.


    Kuluka knelt on one knee respectfully, "Honorable Priest Commander-in-Chief, under your command, we have achieved a splendid victory, leaving behind twelve hundred Otomi warriors, including more than nine hundred captives! Additionally, we have captured over six hundred Otomi militia. Our forces have lost approximately one hundred and fifty warriors, and about three to four hundred have been injured," he reported.


    Xiulote unfolded a smile, pleased with the outcome of the battle. He patted Kuluka on the shoulder affectionately and then lifted him up with both hands from the ground.


    Standing up, Kuluka bowed his head respectfully and continued to report, "Priest Commander-in-Chief, I have just inspected the rations of the Otomi warriors. They are subsisting on sweet potatoes and pumpkins that lead to quick hunger, it seems they no longer have corn cakes to eat."


    Xiulote nodded, as he had expected. He commended Kuluka with "Truly attentive!" and then looked towards Balda.


    Balda stood tall and proud. He had made five or six charges during the battle and acquired seven or eight minor wounds. He undertook the most difficult tasks, bore the heaviest casualties, and achieved the greatest victory. Under his assaults, the Otomi were constantly scattered, fighting individually, unable to establish effective command or maintain organized formations for advance or retreat. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote laughed heartily. Recalling the heroic tales of memory, he loudly praised, "Balda, you are a true samurai, the courage of our Mexica people!"


    The young man then approached, took Balda¡¯s hand, and presented him with an Obsidian Dagger inlaid with gemstones. As it happened, this dagger was one of the extra gifts given to him by the Otomi Envoys during the siege of Xilotepec. Now, it was fitting to bestow it upon Balda.


    Balda accepted the gift joyfully and formally saluted Xiulote. Then he unabashedly clipped the exquisite dagger to his waist and showed it off to everyone.


    Xiulote smiled slightly and continued to gaze at the kneeling Balamo.


    "You are the Warrior Captain of the camp? What is the situation there?"


    "Yes! Honorable Commander-in-Chief, I am Balamo, Warrior Captain of the camp, ready to serve you! In the camp, we currently have three hundred samurai, nearly three thousand militia, and food for three thousand people for five days," he answered.


    Balamo raised his head, revealing a lean and handsome face.


    It seemed the camp was indeed on the verge of exhausting its food supply. Without reinforcements, these warriors and militia would all perish here.


    "Balamo, do you have news from the First Camp Casal?"


    "The Otomi¡¯s blockade has been too stringent, but judging from the intensity of their attacks on our camp, Commander Casal is still holding on. Three weeks ago, he gathered food from the Second Camp and should be able to hold out for another ten days!"


    Xiulote nodded in approval. Skilled in numbers and knowledgeable of military affairs, a fine talent indeed. Then he scrutinized the warrior before him, who, although in full armor and armed, seemed to exude the air of a poet.


    "You have earned merit for timely leaving the camp and engaging the Otomi warrior battalion! Is there anything you desire?"


    Balamo¡¯s eyes shone, flickering with intelligence. He observed Xiulote¡¯s priestly garments, the youth¡¯s stature, the beast helmet covering his face, and the reverent demeanor of the surrounding generals before glancing at the samurai legions arriving in succession behind.


    "I am a commoner samurai without a surname. Please, Commander, grant me one!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression remained calm, yet he was inwardly taken aback. He took another look at Balamo¡¯s melancholic eyes, noting that such a poet¡¯s temperament was quite special in a samurai. This samurai was quick-witted and decisive, suitable to be kept close for observation.


    "You said your name is Balamo? A bleak highland without trees?"


    "Yes! Commander, your erudition is evident," Balamo responded.


    The young man pondered for a moment, the memories of the past surfacing in his mind. After standing silent for a while, he said sentimentally,


    "Your surname shall be Luerfu, a true Mexica poet!"

 Chapter 121 - 80: Hunting and Standoff

    Night fell from the clouds, shrouding the undulating forest and concealing the tracks of the predators.


    In the continuous mountains, an Otomi warrior was strenuously trudging westward, heading towards a camp two days away. His pace was somewhat staggered, his quilted armor damaged, with a well-bandaged wound on his leg. A faint smell of blood emanated from the wound, drifting far into the night-filled, dangerous forest.


    Twenty meters behind the warrior, a black beast stalked quietly. Its sleek, black fur and the streamlined perfection of its muscles identified it as a jungle jaguar about a meter and a half in length. It had been tracking, watching this bipedal beast for a long time.


    Bipedal beasts were usually dangerous, possessing immense numbers and exceptionally sharp talons. Among the adults, there were some particularly strong individuals with a strong sense of vengeance. Hence, bipedal beasts usually did not fall within the hunting range of jaguars. But today was an exception, as it had been hungry for two days before it encountered this solitary bipedal beast that seemed vulnerable to a strike due to injury.


    The jaguar inched closer, its black-spotted fur blending into the night, soft paw pads not making a sound. As it approached within ten meters of the prey, it slightly opened its mouth, revealing its strong, sharp premolars, its keen gaze already fixed on the prey¡¯s neck.


    In the dim moonlight, the bipedal prey suddenly turned around. Years of combat had honed a sharp sense of impending danger.


    Otomi warrior Oxina held his left arm horizontally, protecting his neck, while he drew the dagger from his waist with his right hand, alertly surveying the nearby woods. He meticulously scanned every inch, and being of noble birth, he had ingested enough animal liver to see in the dark.


    The forest quieted for a moment as the jaguar crouched down, waiting silently. Under the weak moonlight, Oxina struggled to discern the faint shadows among the trees. He felt something was amiss until he noticed several small black figures not far away.


    Oxina let out a massive roar, intentionally imitating the sound of a jaguar. The small black figures were startled and scampered out of the bushes in panic¡ªit turned out they were several agoutis with 60-centimeter-long bodies, tiny tails, and three-toed hind feet that scurried away quickly.


    Just as Oxina began to relax, he saw a black lightning flash swiftly past him. The black jaguar pounced on the nearest agouti at a speed of 80 kilometers per hour. With one bite, 560 kilograms of biting force was instantly delivered; the agouti managed only to let out half a scream before dying, and its rich blood scent quickly spread in the jaguar¡¯s mouth.


    Holding its prey, the jaguar glanced elegantly and dangerously at the bipedal beast before swiftly turning and disappearing into the dark forest. It was off to enjoy its meal for the night. Since an easier target had presented itself, there was no need to risk injury by attacking a two-legged beast with sharp claws and teeth.


    Oxina¡¯s back was instantly drenched with cold sweat. He tensely watched the jaguar depart and, ensuring the danger had gone, he quickly turned and stumbled towards the western camp. He had to report to Commander Jiowar that the Mexica legion was advancing west again.


    This was the true law of the jungle, where predators always prioritized targets that could be easily defeated to ensure an eighty percent chance of success, preventing injury to themselves. In the dangerous jungle, even the fiercest beast becomes prey to others once injured.


    Civilizations, nations, and armies follow the same jungle law.


    Just like the Portuguese at the time, who brutally plundered the tribes on the Gold Coast yet treated the Songhai Kingdom and the Congo Kingdom with respect and courtesies, continuing to do so for a hundred and fifty years later. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And just as the Mexica Alliance¡¯s tribute wars across generations always avoided the troublesome Tarasco people to the west and the dangerous Tlaxcala people to the east, preferring to hunt the loose city-states to the north and south.


    And further down the line was the mission for Xiulote¡¯s legion this time: to attempt hunting or negotiate peace.


    Under the same night sky, beside the warm bonfire, Xiulote had just finished eating two pieces of cornbread and drunk some water spiked with tequila. He had just had a detailed conversation with Balamo, convinced that he was a man of talent.


    Surrounded by the Otomi, Balamo took the initiative to restrain the warriors and keep the militia¡¯s food supply nearly the same. Then, with the warriors as the backbone, he organized a group of brave and robust elite militia, equipped with two hundred sets of spare quilted armor and war clubs, and defended the camp from several Otomi attacks.


    "Good! An ordinary birth, yet able to win the hearts of the people, proficient in planning, and, yes, can also recite poetry."


    Xiulote still wore his imposing helmet. He pondered for a moment and looked toward Balamo seated below him.


    "Balamo, would you be willing to follow me?"


    Balamo¡¯s melancholic eyes lit up instantly. He smiled brightly and performed an elegant bow.


    "I swear to you, my Commander, I am prepared to offer everything that is perfect and flawless in this world as my loyal service to you."


    Under his helmet, the young man couldn¡¯t help rolling his eyes. He waved his hand, deciding to assign Balamo to the jurisdiction of the quartermaster Begire. He¡¯d first throw the poet warrior into the logistics camp to hone for a while, taking care of various miscellaneous affairs, and meanwhile allowing his three hundred warriors to rest and recuperate, strengthening the guard force of the logistics unit.


    Then, Kuluka came back to report again. He had interrogated the captured Otomi warriors and learned that to the west, outside the first encampment, the Otomi had gathered a force of a staggering seven thousand warriors and at least ten thousand militia.


    Xiulote did the math in his mind. Even if he included the reinforcements from Guamare and Pamus, the number of warriors in Otapan City was just over ten thousand. With seven thousand in the first encampment and two thousand in the second, this campaign seemed to be an all-out effort, presumably with the intention to exhaust manpower. The groundhogs had finally emerged from their burrow, but unfortunately, the hunter had to hurry home.


    Xiulote ordered the Mexica warriors to treat the nine hundred captured warriors well, to attend to the lightly wounded and keep them since they could still be useful. Then he went over to see the several hundred captured militia. The militiamen were thin and sallow, starving to the point of being as thin as sticks. These militia prisoners were of little use, as the Otomi nobility wouldn¡¯t care about their lives or deaths.


    Xiulote thought for a moment, then allowed the militia to have a full meal before directly releasing them. He didn¡¯t like meaningless killing. Watching the militiamen leave with gratitude, hesitating as they went, the young man knew that without food, actually, less than thirty percent of them would make it out of these mountains and back to their hometowns.


    In the warm night breeze, the young man mockingly said to himself, "Let me find comfort for my soul in hypocrisy."


    Early the next morning, Bertade hurried over with the rear force of three thousand men and the first batch of provisions supplied by the quartermaster. After half a day¡¯s preparation, Xiulote left Balamo and the militia to continue garrisoning the camp. Then the vanguard of four thousand, the center army of three thousand, and the rear army of three thousand¡ªa grand total of ten thousand Mexica warriors¡ªconverged and surged towards the first encampment.


    Facing a large number of Otomi, the ten thousand-strong Mexica army no longer split up, and their movements couldn¡¯t be hidden. The Jaguar scouts at the front soon clashed with Otomi sentries, and to protect the precious Jaguar warriors, Xiulote dispersed a thousand warriors from the vanguard, completely controlling the scouting battlefield twenty miles ahead.


    After marching westward for two days in grand fashion, the Otomi legions regrouped and retreated cautiously, maintaining a full day¡¯s distance from the Mexica army, and finally, Balda made contact with Casal at the camp.


    A day later, within the scarred first mountain encampment, Xiulote finally saw Casal, the camp commander, once again.


    Since they had parted at the Lerma Riverbank in May, it had been half a year. Now that they met again, they were momentarily at a loss for words.


    Casal appeared gaunt and pale. He had aged considerably, his body slightly hunched, completely lacking the vitality of a warrior. Clearly, the difficult siege and the death of Tizoc had dealt a great blow to him both physically and mentally.


    Xiulote found it difficult to associate the aged and downcast middle-aged man in front of him with the confident and proud legion commander he had met last year. After a moment¡¯s gaze, Xiulote took off his helmet, revealing his youthful and gentle face to the eyes of the familiar figure.


    Casal¡¯s expression instantly became animated. His throat bobbed a few times and he opened his mouth as if to shout, but only inarticulate sounds came out, which then turned into a long sigh. He looked desolate as he took out the token from his chest and threw it on Xiulote, then left the camp in silence.


    Xiulote shook his head. Casal, after all, was a high-ranking commander born of great nobility. With Tizoc dead, there was now room for compromise with Aweit. The young man sent a hundred city-state warriors who were strangers to Casal, to both escort and guard him towards Xilotepec City.


    Watching the departing senior officer Casal, Balda felt somewhat at a loss. He stood still for a moment before approaching Xiulote.


    "Respected Priest Commander-in-Chief, there are now two thousand three hundred direct warriors and over six thousand militia in the camp, with enough provisions for ten thousand men for a week," he said.


    Xiulote once again donned his face-covering helmet. He pondered briefly, then made a swift decision.


    "All two thousand three hundred warriors are now under your command; rest them in the camp first. You¡¯ll take charge of the thousand vanguard warriors in your hands over to Kuluka, staying back to properly bring order among the commanders at various levels in the camp. You must take full control of this army! Start retreating the over six thousand militia towards the East," he instructed.


    Balda bowed his head and loudly acknowledged the order before going to gather the camp commanders and team leaders within the camp.


    After resting for a day and replenishing the camp¡¯s provisions, Xiulote received the latest intelligence: the Otapan army had encamped one day away, and together with organized remnants, they had gathered eight thousand warriors and twelve thousand militia. The twenty thousand-strong army showed a stance ready for decisive battle. Meanwhile, at the second encampment to the rear, Otomi raiders had once again been harassing it relentlessly.


    Xiulote nodded; this was the Otomi¡¯s usual tactic: concentrating their main forces to attract the bulk of the Mexica army, while the raiders in the mountains repeatedly attacked the supply lines. Once the Mexica army advanced westward, the Otomi main force would surely continue to retreat until inside Otapan City. The stretched supply lines through the mountains would then become the assailant¡¯s fatal weakness.


    Xiulote first dispatched envoys for negotiations to the Otomi, allowing the militia to start their journey home to the East. The army rested for another day, and then twelve thousand warriors also began to dismantle the encampment in succession, ready to retreat to the East.


    The Otomi¡¯s response eventually came slowly. Both sides agreed that each army¡¯s commander would lead five hundred men to have formal negotiations within a half-day¡¯s distance from the forces.

 Chapter 122 - 81 Negotiations

    On the second day, the noonday sun illuminated the hills in the mountain, and the rustling autumn wind stirred the distant leaves. The sky was high and the clouds sparse, making it a suitable time to meet with friends upon the heights.


    In the rare open spaces among the mountains, the scouts from the Mexica and Otomi explored and watched in all directions, the surrounding area fully visible for several miles. The trees were distant and sparse, with no sign of any ambush. After confirming the safety of the location under the escort of hundreds of elite warriors, the commanders of both armies finally ascended the hill to formally meet.


    For this meeting, Xiulote had deliberately brought along the Longbow Guards and Jaguar warriors. The former was to take the initiative in case the negotiations went poorly, focusing fire on the opposing commanders. The latter was to ensure they could break out in case of an ambush.


    Dressed in two layers of Leather Armor, Xiulote climbed the high hill and his pupils constricted sharply. At first glance, he saw in the opposing Otomi guard, a hundred warriors armed with Tlaxcala bows and copper arrows.


    The commanders of both sides looked at each other briefly, smiled awkwardly but politely, mutually understanding and cautiously wary of each other. Living through an era of unceasing warfare, the warriors always prioritized pragmatism to achieve their goals, unbound by moral dogmas.


    Xiulote took the shield passed to him by Bertade and under the protection of a group of shield-bearing warriors, he observed the Otomi commander opposite him. Although they had clashed before, this was the first time Xiulote saw him face-to-face.


    Jiowar, nearing forty, was robust in build and distinct in appearance, like a nodding coyote, with a pair of narrow, sharp eyes. He wore thickened Leather Armor, moved with steady steps, gently swaying his lower body, maintaining a posture ready to exert force, obviously also an outstanding warrior.


    Seeing Xiulote with a masked face, Jiowar squinted his eyes and loudly mocked,


    "The great commander of the Mexica Legion, hiding his face like a squirrel in a den, afraid to let the warriors see his appearance!"


    Xiulote ignored him, as such mockery was mostly a deliberate test to gauge his opponent¡¯s psychology. He carefully observed the other team, and unexpectedly found an acquaintance beside Jiowar, an old Priest from the City-State of Guamare, roaring like a groundhog. The priest looked much older yet still fierce, wearing a black and white interwoven priest¡¯s robe, glaring fiercely at the Mexica across from him.


    Xiulote glanced around for a moment and saw only one priest in the opposite forces, clearly of special status. Guessing in his mind, he loudly proclaimed, "In the name of the Sun God, Huitzilopochtli! I, the commander of the Mexica Legion, Xiulote, on behalf of the new King of the Mexica Alliance, Ahuizotl, negotiate with the children of the gods of day and night to discuss peace terms!"


    Jiowar also responded formally, "In the name of the Primordial God, Ometeotl! I, the commander of the Otomi Legion, Jiowar, on behalf of the City-State of Otapan, this is Chaos Priest, Olte, representing Guamare, Pamus, and Xilotepec City, negotiate with the children of the War God to stop the war!"


    Both sides acknowledged each other¡¯s divine roles but did not agree on the supreme divinity of the other¡¯s main god. This religious distance indicated that although the Mexica and Otomi people were part of the same cultural sphere, they had distinctly different mainstream cultures. The two legion commanders then exchanged ceremonial bows, and the hostile atmosphere subsequently eased.


    The old Priest Olte was also unusually quiet. He did not roar deliberately, clearly showing peaceful sincerity.


    Xiulote gestured for Jiowar to state the terms first, and the Coyote Commander did not hesitate. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Children of the War God! You face a united and vast alliance of Otomi City-States! You cannot conquer the impregnable City of Otapan! Your new king has slain the old king; your kingdom is in civil war! You cannot stay long on this land! Leave! Let there be peace talks on both sides, withdraw from all our land, compensate with food for ten thousand people for ten months! In the name of the Primordial God, we will also return a thousand captured Mexica warriors!"


    Xiulote nodded and then shook his head. He responded pointedly,


    "Children of the gods of day and night! Otapan City only has food for three or four months; you simply cannot wage a prolonged war! The Tarasco people in the south are eyeing you greedily, ready to march on Otapan City at any moment! The Chichimeca Canine Descendants are invading the north, and Guamare and Pamus cannot support you! You are already out of soldiers and food! Let there be peace talks on both sides, using these mountain forests as the boundary, and release each other¡¯s captives! By the name of the Sun God, I promise a generation of peace!"


    "Damn Aztec people! Hand over the food, withdraw from our land! Otherwise, the twenty thousand Otomi people here are all prepared to fight you to the death!" Jiowar roared loudly.


    "Then let there be war! Cowardly Otomi curs! Even if ten thousand Mexica warriors die here this year, next year there will be even more warriors coming to turn the Otomi land completely to ashes!" Xiulote did not hesitate and fiercely threatened.


    The atmosphere suddenly became tense, with archers drawing their bows and aiming at the opposing commanders. Melee warriors raised their war clubs and shields, slightly bending their bodies, ready to strike with limitless murderous intent.


    The initial brief exchange quickly ceased, and both sides fell silent for a while. It seemed both had already thoroughly scouted each other¡¯s situation, leaving little room for deceit or threats. The old priest and Jiowar briefly exchanged a few words, then the old priest spoke on behalf of the Otomi people.


    "What do you want?" asked old Priest Olte, his face stern and his tone icy.


    "Xilotepec City," Xiulote stated directly.


    "Xilotepec City is part of the alliance, we cannot give it up," Olte affirmed, shaking his head firmly.


    "But separated by these forests, you cannot possibly hold it," Xiulote looked into the old priest¡¯s eyes.


    The old priest fell silent, glaring angrily at Xiulote. After a long while, his expression gradually disappeared, and finally, he lowered his gaze, calmly responding.


    "Food for thirty thousand people for ten months."


    Hearing this, Jiowar¡¯s face changed dramatically, he walked over excitedly, wanting to say something to the old priest, but the priest firmly shook his head.


    "Jiowar, do not interfere with the negotiations from now on, I will handle today¡¯s talks alone! I will bear all the consequences alone!"


    Jiowar¡¯s narrow eyes widened, he silently stared at the old priest¡¯s aged face for a while, finally nodded, and silently bowed and stepped back.


    "This is impossible! Even if you disagree, we can still surround Xilotepec City through the mountains and forests." Xiulote firmly shook his head.


    "Without this food, this year we would starve thirty thousand militia, and perhaps even half of the Samurai," the old Priest calmly stated the fact.


    "I would let all thirty thousand die in the war with the Mexicas. How many casualties are you prepared to accept, and how many people would you retain under Xilotepec City?"


    "You cannot expend all thirty thousand in our war. Otherwise, once the Tarasco head north, you simply won¡¯t be able to stop them. Otapan City, with no defensive forces, will not hold!" Xiulote also responded calmly.


    "Without food, we would be unable to stop the Tarasco heading north anyway. Once they take Otapan City, they will become a threat to you Mexicas!" The old Priest now grimly sneered.


    Xiulote fell silent; everyone was stating facts, and facts could not be changed by words.


    "Food for thirty thousand people for five months, half of which can be traded with equivalent valuable luxury goods. This winter won¡¯t be too cold. Plant a season of beans and sweet potatoes now and five months should be enough to sustain you until the harvest," the young man finally promised after a while.


    "If the Tarasco attack you from the north, the Mexica naval forces will raid their supply lines."


    A desolate, bitter smile spread across the old Priest¡¯s face. "That¡¯s acceptable! When will you deliver? We are willing to pay double the price for more food! Over the past year, we have a total of two thousand Mexica Samurai prisoners, all of which can now be handed over to you."


    Xiulote nodded solemnly, the old Priest evidently still held back half of the prisoners as a bargaining chip.


    "We will deliver in installments; we can¡¯t produce too much food at once. The total amount of food will only be so much! As for prisoners, I have nine hundred Otomi warriors in my possession, and we can exchange them now."


    "That¡¯s impossible!" the old Priest shook his head emphatically in refusal. "Food for prisoners. We only want food! We don¡¯t want your captured warriors nor can we afford to keep them."


    Xiulote sighed. He thought for a moment and then looked at the old Priest again, "Then change the terms. How many warriors from Xilotepec City are in your army? I¡¯ll exchange prisoners for them."


    The old Priest pondered for a moment and then nodded, "That could also work. Xilotepec City has a thousand warriors in the allied forces; all will be handed over to you, but in addition to the nine hundred prisoners, I also want food for a thousand men for five months!"


    "Done! We will exchange today!" Xiulote immediately agreed.


    For the Mexica Alliance, these one-thousand Xilotepec City warriors were crucial, intended to be recruited as guides. Thrown into the allied forces, most of them were surely of minor nobility or commoner origin. Subsequently betrayed by the Otomi Alliance, they naturally leaned more towards the Mexicas, facilitating the alliance¡¯s assimilation.


    The two men then agreed on the details of the food delivery. From the time the negotiations concluded, the Otomi would withdraw all guerrillas, leaving only five hundred warriors and three thousand militia in the mountains to transfer the food delivered by the Mexica. Both sides would call a truce with the mountain forest as the border.


    Otapan City would not harass the Mexica besieging Xilotepec City. The food would be delivered over five months, transferring once each month. Food for thirty thousand people for one month would be exchanged for three hundred Mexica prisoners and items valued at half in gemstones, gold and silver, feathers, or exquisite clothes, with the final transfer expected to occur after the fall of Xilotepec City. The Otomi would hand over the last eight hundred prisoner warriors.


    The old Priest afterward repeatedly entangled, requesting the Mexica additionally provide rations for two thousand Mexica prisoners.


    Xiulote did not quibble; after securing the old Priest¡¯s promise of good treatment for prisoners, he nodded his agreement. He felt a grim laughter coming on, yet also sensed a profound desolation. Famine, lack of food, death. The disappearance of these Otomi lives was already planned by the greater Mexica forces. Now, the results of their schemes came as scheduled, and two generations of Otomi people were being mercilessly erased; yet the young man felt no joy.


    The negotiations began at noon and did not wrap up until evening. The prolonged one-and-a-half-year war finally ended, and Xilotepec City was completely abandoned in exchange for enough food to sustain Otapan City. At their parting, Jiowar and Xiulote looked at each other but could not utter any ceremonial blessings.


    Xiulote then looked at the old Priest Olte, noticing the man¡¯s suddenly stooped silhouette and felt an unusual emotion. He recalled the conversation beneath Guamare City.


    "Olte, even if burning all the green grasses, is it not better than preserving a sacred cocoa?" the young man removed his helmet and repeated an old saying.


    Hearing this familiar phrase, Olte¡¯s eyes widened. He scrutinized the young man for a moment, finally recognizing the once-met Coyote Priest.


    "What is the green grass, exactly?" the young man looked at the elderly Priest, observing his now lackluster face.


    "...Green grass is the commoners, the warriors, the nobility, the priests, Xilotepec City...and me," after a pause, Olte slightly turned his head, avoiding the young man¡¯s gaze, and responded in a faint voice.


    "In that case, what exactly is the cocoa?" the young man pondered and continued looking into the old Priest¡¯s eyes.


    "That is the hope for the continuation of the Otomi people." Olte answered accordingly.


    This time, he calmly looked into the young man¡¯s eyes.


    After a moment of eye contact, the young man solemnly nodded. He slightly bowed as a sign of respect, thanking the old Priest for his answer and then turned to leave.


    The truce negotiations had ended. Soon, the setting sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the world into darkness. And in that darkness, hope was taking root.

 Chapter 123 - 82: The Divine Tree and the Golden Eagle

    In the highlands of Central America, October brings an autumn that is not cold, devoid of rustling and falling maple leaves, with evergreen pines and cedars instead. The autumn breeze gently caresses the cheek, the air filled with the refreshing scent of pine and cypress, also faintly carrying the fragrance of flowers.


    Xiulote stood on a hill, looking at the army formation not far away where prisoners were being exchanged. The news of the ceasefire, like the warm sunshine, put relaxed smiles on the faces of the warriors from both sides. The Mexica warriors talked about their plans to return home, while the militia breathed sighs of relief. No longer would they combat the guerrilla Otomi in the mountain forests with their lives at stake.


    Under Bertade¡¯s command, nine hundred Otapan prisoners and enough food for a thousand people for five months were delivered in turn to the other side. Jiowar was nowhere to be seen, a stranger Otomi officer with an unchanged expression, took on the duty destined to be infamous. He did not look at the released prisoners but meticulously checked the quantity of food, afterward, with a wave of his hand, a thousand disarmed Commoner Warriors were escorted over and handed to the Mexica.


    Xiulote carefully observed the Commoner Warriors from the Xilotepec City-State. The faces of the warriors at first filled with the bafflement of disarmament, then the disbelief of being traded, and finally the anger and despair of betrayal. Satisfied, the young man nodded. These people would be handed over to Bertade, later to be recruited and treated favorably, becoming the first group of Otomi to submit to the Alliance.


    Next to Xiulote, "Monkey" Kuluka watched the Head Warrior¡¯s figure with envy. Clearly, these Otomi would be put to important use by the Alliance, forming the governing foundation for the Mexica¡¯s Xilotepec City-State in the future. Now, Bertade, managing them and exerting influence, signified having the qualifications to be the ruler of a city-state.


    The young man didn¡¯t look any longer. He sniffed the scent of flowers in the air and strolled through the lush pine forest, searching for the source of the fragrance. After a while, he stopped in front of an extraordinarily tall and majestic tree, where the comfortable scent diffused on the breeze, accompanied by the distant, faint call of an eagle.


    This was a majestic Mexican ahuehuete, ancient and standing by the stream. It stood 50 meters tall, with a diameter of nearly 4 meters. The straight trunk seemed to stretch endlessly upwards, as if reaching into the clouds, and the full tree¡¯s leaves drooped down like the sacred green feathers of the Feathered Serpent Divine. Amidst the gracefully swaying foliage were light green and white buds, harboring seeds that would mature next year, releasing a pleasant freshness.


    Xiulote nodded, confirming the source of the smell. The huge tree stood tall and silent in the forest, listening to the melody of the stream, having lived through a thousand long years, becoming a spirit from legend, the slumbering primordial forest.


    "What a splendid redwood!" exclaimed the youth staring at the beauty of the giant tree.


    "Priest Commander, this is the Ahuehuete, the upright drum in the water, also the old man in the water, it¡¯s a symbol of authority! Ever since the great Montezuma passed away, we also call it Montezuma cypress, because this kind of tree inherently possesses a divine spirit," said Culuka, who had at some point come up beside the youth, explaining with a smile on his face.


    "Ahuehuete? Divine spirit?" The youth was slightly taken aback, then nodded his understanding. Ahuizotl, means "spirit in the water like a pine," so naturally, Ahuehuete would be "pine and cypress in the water."


    "Exactly! In the myths of the southern Mistec and Zapotecs, they share the same noble ancestors, which are the tree spirits of Ahuehuete.


    "They call themselves people of the clouds, and claim to descend from above the clouds, falling down with the rainwater. Those who merge with the towering Ahuehuete become the most noble priests, those who merge with the mighty Jaguar become the esteemed warriors, those who merge with the ordinary soil become commoners, and those who fall into caves become...


    Culuka suddenly stopped, cutting off his words.


    "...they become the lowliest slaves?" the young man inquired instinctively.


    "No, then they would turn into goblins of animals and humans, wearing masks with pointed horns, becoming the death-spreading vampire bats Camazotz!" Culuka thought hard before he managed to depict the image of a bat creature.


    Xiulote stared, dumbfounded, then laughed amusedly. "Death Bat" Camazotz was, after all, the origin of the image for the future superhero "Batman."


    Xiulote smiled slightly, patted Culuka on the shoulder, considering the "Monkey" to indeed be intelligent and well-informed, and Culuka laughed in happiness for the youth¡¯s contentment. Then the young man¡¯s ears twitched.


    "Monkey, did you hear that sound? Is that an eagle crying?" The youth looked up as he heard the sound, peering towards the top of the tall trees where the leaves, like falling feathers, obscured all prying eyes. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Culuka cocked his head and blinked his eyes. Then, it seemed he discovered something, cast the weapon behind him away, and hugged the gigantic trunk of the Ahuehuete with both arms like an agile monkey swiftly scaling up, disappearing amidst the beautiful foliage.


    A moment later, Culuka appeared from the top of the tall tree, fifty meters up. His legs were coiled around the trunk, his left hand clinging to a branch, his right hand supporting something. As he craned his neck backward, he shouted to the youth below in surprise, "Sir, there¡¯s a golden eagle chick up here!"


    Next, "Monkey" shifted slightly, protecting his right hand carefully, and realigned his upper body. Then he alternately released his left hand and legs, sliding down "whoosh, whoosh," from the fifty-meter-high treetop.

 Chapter 124 - 82: The Divine Tree and the Golden Eagle_2

    The young boy¡¯s eyes widened as he watched the Divine Weapon of Kuluka descend from the heavens. Then, all his attention was caught by the small creature cradled in his hands.


    It was indeed an eaglet. It had an innocent, pure gaze, a short beak that was pinkish and pale, soft white juvenile feathers, and slightly brownish wings. This lord of the sky, which could live for only thirty years, was in its most tender infant stage.


    "My lord, this eaglet doesn¡¯t even have its initial feathers yet, it¡¯s at most three months old," Kuluka said with a grin, handing the eaglet over to the boy.


    Xiulote instinctively reached out and gently took the tiny eaglet that was only the size of a palm. The little creature looked at the boy with pure black eyes, then rubbed its small head against the boy¡¯s palm, soft as a cotton ball. Afterward, it let out a few weak cries and lay powerless in the boy¡¯s hand.


    "It seems to be very hungry," the boy said softly, touching the little eaglet¡¯s belly, which was soft and flat, seemingly indeed starved.


    "It looks like it hasn¡¯t eaten for several days. Its parents might have met with an accident, perhaps caught by the Otomi to be eaten,"


    Kuluka responded casually, searching through his belongings and finally finding a strip of dried deer meat. The boy dipped it in some clear water and carefully fed it to the eaglet. It pecked at the short beak, trying hard and hurriedly to gnaw on the dry meat strip but was completely unable to bite through it.


    The boy gently smiled, took the meat strip from its beak, and watched as it anxiously flapped its soft wings. He then took freshly cut small pieces of meat from Kuluka and fed them bit by bit to the tiny eaglet. Unconsciously, a smile of happiness he hadn¡¯t shown in a long time spread across his lips.


    Seeing Xiulote¡¯s smile, Kuluka also grinned, looking like a self-satisfied big howler monkey.


    After feeding the meat strip and clear water, the eaglet let out a crisp call, noticeably much louder. Then it tilted its head, rubbed in the boy¡¯s palm for a while, covered its belly with its wings, and fell into a comfortable sleep.


    The boy watched the sleeping eaglet happily, then looked up at the towering Divine Tree and curved a joyful arc on the corner of his mouth: S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Since I found you in the Ahuehuete tree, from now on, I will call you Ahuehuete!"


    The appearance of little Ahuehuete brought great joy to Xiulote. The recent warfare and killings, the gore and death he had witnessed, steadily engraved the destruction of life into the boy¡¯s heart. Yet, little Ahuehuete was like a beacon of hope nurtured in the darkness, a ray of pure light, dispelling the gloom in the Samurai boy¡¯s soul.


    Afterward, Xiulote carefully made a warm nest for little Ahuehuete using cotton cloth and feathers, then put the Eagle¡¯s Nest in a wooden box and carried it on his back, taking great care of it.


    Thus, by day Xiulote was the masked Commander-in-Chief, solemn and majestic, commanding the army, intimidating rebellious generals, and pacifying surrendered Otomi. By night, however, Xiulote was a thirteen-year-old boy, relaxed and joyful, with a sincere smile, as he teased the tiny white Ahuehuete, gazing intently into its eyes and stroking its soft feathers. Darkness and light balanced this way, between day and night.


    Twelve thousand Mexica Samurai gradually set out. The massive army, heading eastward, left the starving Otomi, abandoned the mountain camps along the way, and made for the Xilotepec main camp. Ten days later, the army finally arrived at the Fourth Camp. The boy paused to remember the past battlefields, then with a serious face, he called over the Poet Samurai Balamo.


    "Balamo, how have you been faring with the logistics camp these days?"


    Not having seen him for two weeks, Balmo had lost his initially gaunt and handsome appearance. He looked haggard, his hair untidy, and his face visibly fatter. Unchanged, though, was the elegant sadness in his eyes.


    "Priest sir, the logistics camp is very comfortable and the food is good, but it¡¯s incredibly busy. Every day I have to count a large amount of supplies, calculate consumption and supply, and record everything on wooden boards. The flowers in my heart have withered completely," Balmo sighed, answering honestly and respectfully.


    In his first command of the legion, Xiulote did not change the customary rules of the army too much, but he did increase the management of the logistics and baggage. The duties of the logistics officers dramatically increased; they had to accurately record daily supplies, strictly plan the consumption of food, and try to improve transportation efficiency.


    Under the pressure of heavy work, Balmo was as busy as a spinning top, without even a moment to take care of himself.


    Seeing the respectful Balmo, Xiulote was satisfied; the training seemed effective, and it was time to add some more responsibility.


    "Balamo, I¡¯m giving you a thousand Samurai and three thousand Militia. You¡¯re in charge of this camp from now on! Over the next five months, there will be supplies for thirty-four thousand people each month arriving. You will need to trade with the Otapan City-State army once a month, exchanging food for captured Mexica Samurai and half the value in luxury goods.


    You must be careful and vigilant, ensure your defenses are strong! Maintain regular contact with the Xilotepec main camp. And during the trades, make sure the accounts are clear! I will have the supply Officer Begire check them; if there¡¯s an excess, it¡¯s to be handed over, and any shortage, you¡¯ll cover yourself!"


    With the arrival of little Ahuehuete, Xiulote¡¯s mood had been very good lately, and he made a rare joke.


    "Yes! Under your command, my Priest Commander-in-Chief!" What was a light-hearted joke for Xiulote turned into a heavy burden in Balamo¡¯s ears, but it also brought inspiration to the romantic poet. Balamo turned to leave with a somber air, murmuring verses under his breath.

 Chapter 125 - 82: The Divine Tree and the Golden Eagle_3

    "I cradled my heavy heart, solemn and dignified. Grief piled like a mountain within me, shrouded in darkness. I waited for a breeze to rekindle the ashes of the dead. Ah, that would be my carefree love!"


    Not far away, Xiulote smiled gently. It seemed the burden was still not heavy enough.


    The legion halted briefly and then continued on its journey. Three days later, when Xiulote saw Xilotepec City again, the rebellious Otomi City-State had already been completely besieged. The City-State was blockaded on all sides by camps, and supplies of water, food, salt, and timber were utterly cut off. Tens of thousands of Mexica Samurai patrolled between the camps, preventing even a wild rabbit from crossing the tight defences.


    Xiulote was somewhat surprised to see over forty thousand Mexica Samurai had gathered here. It had been more than twenty days back and forth; had Aweit not moved south yet?


    After a moment¡¯s thought, the youth handed the legion over to Bertade for arranging. Then, under the guard of the escort, he hurriedly came to the riverside camp carrying the wooden box from the Eagle¡¯s Nest. He saw the huge fleet gathered at the river and the grain transport ships coming and going; had the food supply been restored once again?


    With a belly full of questions, Xiulote headed straight to the royal tent in the center of the camp. The camp was solemn, but there was an indescribable strange atmosphere. On his way, the Samurai seemed to have good morale, but the Great Nobility he occasionally met had flickering eyes, and so did the City-State leaders with similarly wandering gazes.


    This atmosphere was nothing like the united front at the banquet after Tizoc¡¯s death, but rather like the tense calm before a storm.


    Upon reaching the royal tent, Xiulote threw open the flap, only to find it completely empty. The fire had long since gone cold, perhaps it hadn¡¯t been lit at all that day. Then he continued to search until he found Aweit in a residential cabin.


    Aweit was not in his majestic Kingly attire but wore a loose white robe, which made him look rather young. He leaned against the wooden wall behind him, holding a wooden plank on which Xiulote had casually written. He was reading it slowly and carefully.


    Xiulote, anxious, snatched the wooden plank from his friend¡¯s hands and glanced at the Chinese characters. The first line began with "King Wu attacked Zhou," and naturally, it was followed by "Duke Zhou assisting the governance." The next line was the young man¡¯s random continuation, from the short poem "Duke Zhou feeds the people, the world unites."


    Aweit looked up, regarding the youth with a gentle gaze that carried a sorrowful smile, "Xiulote, you¡¯re back? How did the negotiations with the Otomi go?"


    Xiulote respectfully performed a ritual gesture, then asked anxiously, "Aweit, hadn¡¯t you decided to quickly head south to the Capital City to official inherit the throne as King? Why haven¡¯t you departed yet?"


    Aweit gave a bitter smile. He spread his hands in resignation and shook his head, "What can I do? Two weeks ago, we received intelligence. That old man Quetzal actually summoned the great Xiwakowatle, protector of four generations of Mexica Eagles, the towering Divine Tree who after many years of illness had retreated from public view, the immortal sun of the Mexica, my eighty-five-year-old granduncle, Trakel Er!"


    "What! The immortal sun, Trakel Er is still alive?" The youth was incomparably shocked, then felt a sense of solemnity in his heart.


    Perhaps in this world, there really are signs of fate, and all things are mysteriously interconnected. If so, then Trakel Er was like that Divine Tree by the river, silently standing in the Empire¡¯s past. Compared to him, Xiulote and Aweit were just fledgling eaglets under the shelter of the Divine Tree, not yet the sovereigns of the skies! S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The two paused in silence. Meanwhile, the small Ahuehuete in the wooden box behind the youth was just stirred awake by the exclamations. It poked its head out, looking at the two, emitting a series of soft chirps. Its feathers were not yet full, but its heart soared with the desire to fly.

 Chapter 126 - 83: The Empire’s Past

    In the history of the Aztec Empire, if one were to choose the most significant figure, it would neither be the "Obsidian Serpent", the creator of the Empire and the first leader, the fourth Mexica predecessor monarch Itzcoatl, nor the "King with the Wrathful Frown", the second leader of the Empire who expanded its territory, Montezuma I. The true historical shaper of the Aztec Empire was the immortal Sun, the Empire¡¯s chief architect, Trakel Er.


    In the process of following in his ancestors¡¯ footsteps, Xiulote habitually brought these great figures of the Empire into the familiar context of Huaxia history. In an era similar in economics and politics, he looked for the future of Mexica history within Huaxia¡¯s past.


    If one were to compare Itzcoatl, who rose from a vassal city-state to establish the Triple Alliance of the Aztec and overthrow the dominion of the Tepanec Kingdom, to King Wen of Zhou who raised arms against the tyrant Zhou of Shang,


    Then Montezuma I, who inherited the Alliance throne, solidified its relationships, subdued remaining Tepanec forces, and expanded the Alliance¡¯s territories, would be like King Wu of Zhou who ruled all under heaven.


    And Trakel Er, the brother of Montezuma I, who served through the reigns of six Mexica monarchs, from the second predecessor monarch Huitzil¨ªhuitl, to Chimalpopoca, Itzcoatl, Montezuma I, Asayacatl, Tizoc, and four leaders of the Empire, was like Duke Zhou, the founder of the Western Zhou dynasty.


    In Xiulote¡¯s mind, most great figures in the world shared one common trait: they lived long enough to have sufficient life to achieve their grand goals. And in a Central America where the average life expectancy was only in the twenties, the eighty-five years old Trakel Er clearly had the most important foundation of a great man¡ªimmortal time.


    Trakel Er was the son of the second predecessor monarch Huitzil¨ªhuitl, born in 1397, an era when everything had not yet happened; the lord of the Mexican Valley was still the Tepanec Kingdom, headquartered on the western shores of Lake Texcoco, and the Aztec were but a nomadic tribe that had settled on a small island in the lake.


    The rule of the world was passed from the Teotihuacan civilization of the 1st century BC to the 5th century, to the Toltec civilization from the 6th century to the 12th century, and then to the hands of the Toltec-Tepanec in the 13th century, just like the transition from the Xia to the Shang.


    The improved chinampa farming technology of the Aztec became the basis of the burgeoning Empire. The astounding agricultural yields led to significant population growth, and the lake city-states gradually became increasingly pivotal. The thirty years following the birth of Trakel Er were a time of quiet toiling by the Aztec, accumulating strength, engaging in marital diplomacy, and dutifully submitting to the Tepanec.


    At that time, the Tepanec Kingdom, ruled by the powerful monarch Texosoxomoc, conquered in the east and subdued uprisings in the west, stabilizing the world. In 1418, he launched a major attack on the eastern part of Lake Texcoco, subdued the rising City of Texcoco, and thus unified the Valley. The various city-states could do nothing but silently endure, dutifully paying tribute to the Tepanec Kingdom on schedule.


    When Texosoxomoc finally died in the 12th Rabbit year of the Maya calendar, 1426, the long-waiting Mexica-Tenochtitlan quickly formed an alliance with the unwilling City of Texcoco, followed by the accession of Tlacopan from the western shores of the lake.


    In 1428, the Triple Alliance of the Aztec was established, and that same year, they laid siege to and captured the capital of the Tepanec Kingdom, Azcapotzalco. Subsequently, after several years of warfare, they inherited the hegemony of the Tepanec. The Triple Alliance unified the Mexican Valley, becoming the Aztec Empire.


    In this era, Trakel Er was an outstanding general of the Alliance and, alongside his brother Montezuma I and the Poet King of Texcoco, Nezahualcoyotl, was known as one of the three Tlacochcalcatl, or Marshals, of the Alliance.


    In Xiulote¡¯s eyes, although Trakel Er¡¯s military achievements were outstanding, they were not yet great. His true great endeavor was establishing the civil order of the Empire.


    With the advent of peace, Trakel Er stepped down from his position as Marshal to take on the role of the Empire¡¯s chief architect, that is, Chief Advisor. Under the direction of the chief architect, the entire Lake Region underwent complete transformation. Vital canals were constructed; the high-yield chinampas were expanded to their peaks; numerous bridges across the lake were built, and the magnificent stony capital city gradually took form. Without a doubt, such large-scale construction during the Stone Age required the fuel of laborers¡¯ lives.


    Trakel Er¡¯s will was strong and resolute. He exchanged the piled bones of countless Tepanec slaves for the agricultural core of the imperial enterprise, a Texcoco Lake Region capable of sustaining one and a half million people. With the flourishing and prosperous Mexican Valley, the Aztec Empire had truly established the economic foundation of its hegemony.


    To Xiulote, this was akin to Duke Zhou expanding and perfecting the well-field system. "Zhou enacted the laws; farming households were granted a hundred mu of land and likewise levied a tithe tax," laying the economic foundation of the Western Zhou hegemony. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Beneath the achievements of agricultural construction, Trakel Er had enough prestige to pursue deeper religious and cultural reforms, thereby unifying and strengthening the ideological consciousness of the Aztec.


    The first thing he did was to dethrone gods! He elevated the War God, the guardian god of the Mexica, Huitzilopochtli, to the status of the chief Sun God, and deposed the original Sun God, Tezcatlipoca. He solidified the Mexica¡¯s divine status as a nation with the blessing of the gods.


    The second thing he did was to rewrite history! With his amendments, the Aztec were no longer the semi-nomadic canine descendants from Aztl¨¢n in the northwest, but the inheritors of the ancient Teotihuacan civilization, the successors of the glorious Toltec civilization, a divinely favored tribe with a noble history!

 Chapter 127 - 83 Empire Past_2

    And the new Sun God Huitzilopochtli also transformed into the creator god of the Toltec, and decreed that the Toltec join the great Mexica people.


    Subsequently, all records of another history of the Aztec people in the form of stone inscriptions were completely erased. With the expansion of Montezuma I, every conquered City-State was required to hand over ritual plates and destroy all texts that "slandered". The history of the past became a forbidden secret known only among the royal family and the high priests.


    For several generations, up to today, the notion of divine protection for the race had deeply rooted itself in the Mexica¡¯s beliefs, establishing a strong sense of national pride and cohesion, as well as the impulse and determination to rule the known world.


    In Xiulote¡¯s view, this was equivalent to the worldview in the "Classic of Poetry", combined with Dong Zhongshu¡¯s concept of interactivity between heaven and humanity, and the divine right of kings. In a word, it was a firm belief in the "Mandate of Heaven", predestined to rule the world!


    This is the fundamental belief that all powerful nations must possess, and it is the core idea behind the true rise of a nation and civilization. Throughout history, any great civilization will have similar reinforcing ideas.


    The Huaxia people would say, "Under all heaven, all the land belongs to the king; at all the shores of the earth, all are subjects of the king! We are the Celestial Empire."


    The Ancient Egyptians would say, "The pharaoh is the son of the Heavenly Divine, dwelling in pyramids to reach heaven after death."


    The Japanese would say, "The Emperor of the divine way, an unbroken line forever! The Emperor¡¯s ancestors were Sun Gods."


    The Ottoman people would say, "The dream of Ottoman, the master of the world! He could be as strong as the Ottomans."


    The British would say, "Rule, Britannia! God save the Queen."


    The Americans would say, "Manifest Destiny! To seize and govern what God has bestowed upon America, with the great mission entrusted to me for the rights of freedom and federal autonomy."


    In Xiulote¡¯s view, the most ruthless tactic of the Western colonizers was to erase the ideological confidence of temporarily backward nations and tribes under the guise of different lifestyles and religious beliefs, thereby destroying their potential for future rise. To kill the spirit is worse than killing the body.


    Confronting the Indians, the Spanish colonizers burned all historical texts, widely proclaimed the resistance of white people to diseases as God¡¯s favoritism, while those without resistance were deemed inferior abandoned people, thereby disarticulating the backbone of the Indian nations. However, facing the Blacks of Africa with higher disease resistance, this argument switched to Africans being ignorant and intellectually inferior.


    For thousands of years, similar tactics have continuously been employed by colonizers to better plunder, conquer, and rule the world across life, systems, culture, and beliefs. Once a nation has completely knelt down, rising again becomes extremely difficult.


    Xiulote always believed that the destiny of a nation was not decided by technological gaps but by much deeper cores. The future weak, impotent nations of Central America, and the frail nations of the South American highlands, with their long declines, prove this. They must first find their identity to embark on the road to rise.


    In his view, from individuals to nations, states, and even a civilization¡¯s development, all stem from the inside out. What he hoped to do, just as Trakel Er did, was to coalesce a nation¡¯s beliefs to establish a strong indigenous civilization in Central America.


    To further enhance the internal driving force of the Aztec Empire¡¯s expansion, Trakel Er once again altered the myth. In his hands, gods were merely tools to achieve goals. This time, in the myth, the Sun God Huitzilopochtli demanded the Mexica to sacrifice "sacred blood" to ensure the sun¡¯s rotation and prevent the apocalypse.


    With this established religious concept, continual expansionary wars became the natural attribute of the Aztec Empire. The new generation of Mexica inherently honed in on war, glorified the Samurai, and saw sacrifice as salvation. They rejoiced in battle and delighted in the prospect of honorable death. The blazing military power led to conquest after conquest, a small war every three years, a major one every five. Driven by the myth, within fifty years, the Mexica had become supreme rulers of the world.


    This strategy of religious warfare reform, well, should be regarded as original. Xiulote pondered carefully and estimated that Duke Zhou had probably not done something similar.


    To transmit these new concepts, Trakel Er expanded the bureaucratic system and the number of priests, also opening pathways for the commoners to rise to priesthood. To enhance the ceremonial effects of sacrifices, Trakel Er began massive expansions of temples, establishing a routine small-scale system of "victorious wars." S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The modified religious forces thus became even stronger, a potent threat to both royal and secular powers. But for now, Trakel Er¡¯s unparalleled prestige was enough to control everything. This latent conflict between religion and the secular would erupt only under Montezuma II, followed by High Priest King Montezuma II actively leading the "Feathered Serpent Divine" colonizers into the core of the empire, to suppress the opposing princes, nobility, and Samurai.


    Facing the Western colonizers, the Aztec Empire did not bring its true power into play. One hundred thousand Samurai bewildered and confused, amidst prolonged internal conflicts, rebellions of various City-States, severe smallpox infections, and the encirclements by colonizers and hostile tribes, met its doom. Thus achieving Hernan Cortes¡¯s unprecedented feat and also instilling the Westerners, long oppressed by the Ottomans, with the first confidence and ambition to conquer the world.


    After infusing the Mexica with the core of warfare, Trakel Er began to adjust the societal structures of the Mexica people, establishing a true classical militaristic society to match the beliefs in warfare.

 Chapter 128 - 83 Empire Past_3

    He established a strict military merit system, dividing priests into five levels and samurai into four, ascending in rank until eventually being promoted to military merit nobility. Each level had strict dress codes, social status, and land rights. Even the wealthiest commoners were not permitted to wear clothing that exceeded their status.


    Xiulote felt that this resembled Duke Zhou¡¯s ritual and music system and was somewhat similar to the military merit ennoblement system of the Qin Dynasty.


    Similarly, Trakel Er decreed that all boys of fifteen must undergo five years of compulsory military education, with the goal of training as many of them as possible into samurai and war priests. The remaining craftsmen, merchants, and peasants were at the bottom of society. For commoners, the only way to rise in society was to participate in war, obtain military merit, and capture prisoners.


    Therefore, every Mexica person Xiulote met hoped their children would become samurai; it was a society with a national army.


    After Trakel Er¡¯s social reforms, the Mexica nobility and succession to the throne were also determined by military merit, which was completely different from Duke Zhou¡¯s system of primogeniture. It infused a core of iron and blood but made the transfer of Mexica power even more brutal and bloody.


    If the nobility¡¯s legitimate son could not demonstrate bravery on the battlefield, his right to inherit would be given to a brave illegitimate son. Likewise, every king initiated a "coronation war" to prove his war prowess. In the same vein, Tizoc would immediately lose favor with the people if he failed in war, and his kingship would become unstable. In contrast, the kingship Aweit gained through war was widely recognized by the samurai and nobility.


    As Xiulote sorted through these deeds of Duke Zhou, he was actually organizing the foundations of the prosperity of the Aztec Empire.


    Economically, they built canals and floating fields to complete the core agricultural area and increase the population.


    Culturally, they confirmed the divine favor of their ethnic group, established national self-confidence, and united beliefs.


    Religiously, they carried out religious reforms, providing internal motivation for war and national expansion.


    Socially, they clarified the class system, established a militarized society, and promoted social advancement.


    It was clear at a glance; this was a complete, well-adapted national system, all established by one person. To create such an undertaking required natural talent, a transmigrator, or someone who lived a long time.


    It was only due to Trakel Er¡¯s reforms of the Mexica that their civilization gained the necessary conditions to become a powerful one. Had there been no outside interference, the unification of Central America was destined to be under the Aztec Empire! S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then, this civilization¡¯s system would further mature, and new ideas would emerge from internal conflicts. The nation would be rebuilt on a new economic foundation, akin to the reforms of the Warring States period and the Qin and Han dynasties.


    Accompanying the change in thought was the advancement in technology, first entering a complete Bronze Age, then the difficult transition into the Iron Age. With the aid of metal tools, they would develop sailing technology, transforming the Caribbean Sea into a lake, and then expanding into North and South America. They would encounter the Inca and gain light transport llamas, domesticate the field-tilling bison of North America, until the ethnic group spanned the whole of America.


    Xiulote shook his head, snapping out of his far-reaching thoughts. The news that Trakel Er was still alive truly shook him, as if he had seen a mythological figure step out of the pages of a book.


    Lacking a response, the young Ahuehuete behind him continued to chirp discontentedly, a call that it was hungry.


    Aweit stood up, looking at the peering young golden eagle with amusement.


    He said with a faint smile, "What¡¯s this? A white turkey?"


    "It¡¯s a three-month-old golden eagle. Found in the Divine Tree of Ahuehuete in the forest," Xiulote said, as he took out a prepared tender piece of meat and fed it to the young Ahuehuete, then pulled out a Tarasco-style clay gourd and carefully fed water to its beak. The little eagle obediently avoided shaking its head around.


    "Oh, so it¡¯s a golden eagle. Eagles are the favorites of samurai," Aweit said, coming closer, trying to touch the young Ahuehuete. But the little eagle resisted by turning its head away and kept pecking at his hand with its soft beak.


    "This little fellow¡­ Golden eagles are indeed fierce by nature, and rare too," Aweit chuckled. "I recall that in the Capital City, there is an old samurai skilled in training buzzards. When we return to the Capital City, summon him to train it."


    Xiulote nodded. Eagles indeed required specialized trainers to tame them for use in hunting. If the eagle was smart enough and trained for long enough, it could even recognize certain special things, such as large-scale armies or... ships at sea.


    "Aweit, what should we do now? Could the immortal Trakel Er be harmful to you?" Xiulote asked with some concern.


    "I have already sent Gillim to consult with our ancestors. For now, we¡¯ll station our troops here and wait for a reply, probably receiving an answer in ten days. Since the Capital has not cut off our supply of food and fodder, it seems there are no major issues," Aweit replied with a faint smile, some worry showing, but more a confidence of having the situation under control.


    "The coronation war of Tizoc failed, and then I defeated and replaced him, all within the succession rules set by our ancestors. Besides, Tizoc is dead, and who else but me can truly take over the Alliance¡¯s kingship now? Could it rely on my older brother¡¯s seven-year-old son, Montezuma II?"


    Hearing the name Montezuma II, Xiulote was briefly distracted. His thoughts surged, and he paused slightly in his actions.

 Chapter 129 - 83: Empire Past Events_4

    Aweit quickly snatched the piece of meat from Xiulote¡¯s hands, continuing to tease the little golden eagle. He possessed the basic skills of a Samurai, and his wrists were flexible enough that, taking it a bit seriously, the little golden eagle couldn¡¯t peck at it at all. The frustrated little Ahuehuete, unable to reach the food or peck the bad man, urgently called out for Xiulote with a "cheep cheep".


    Xiulote snapped out of the calling and shot Aweit a glare. Then he took out a new piece of meat from his bosom and carefully fed it to the little golden eagle.


    Aweit smiled lightly, continuing to analyze the situation in the capital city.


    "The old ancestor is advanced in years, having secluded himself from worldly affairs for many years, only instructing the expansion of the Great Temple. Tizoc took the throne, but he did not appear. It seems this time he really pushed Quetzal, who manages the Great Temple, so he appeared more frequently before the old ancestor, able to speak somewhat. It looks like this time, the position of the High Priest can¡¯t be moved in a short term."


    The youth pondered for a moment, "What if the immortal Trakel Er really makes a move against you? Do we march southwards?"


    Aweit shook his head, "No. The old ancestor is, after all, an ancestor of the Tenochtitlan lineage. If we really handle us, it can only benefit the collateral lines of Texcoco and Tlacopan."


    It¡¯s also thanks to the old ancestor¡¯s suppression that the fifty thousand direct warriors of the three cities in the lake region of the capital are all in the hands of the Tenochtitlan lineage. The princes of Texcoco and Tlacopan are now merely figureheads.


    Mobilization of troops is the last option. Facing the old ancestor, the Great Nobility have no faith at all; the leaders of various city-states are also extraordinarily unstable and the royal¡¯s direct Samurai, even less need be said. After all, he is the immortal Sun!"


    Xiulote understood well. At the inception of the tri-city alliance, the leaders of the three cities were all titled as Tratuoani, meaning King. However, subsequently, Montezuma I intentionally strengthened the connections between the three cities, promoting intermarriages and integrating the ruling classes into one.


    Then, with the death of the Poet King Nezahualcoyotl, Trakel Er became the only founding elder. His prestige was unmatched! Under his repression, the Tratuoani of Tenochtitlan became the sole true King, while the city lords of Texcoco and Tlacopan turned into rulers simply known as princes.


    The princes of Texcoco and Tlacopan were above the Third Level Nobility. Out of the fifty thousand direct warriors, thirty thousand were directly controlled by Tenochtitlan, fourteen thousand from Texcoco, and six thousand from Tlacopan.


    These two princes now had no achievements, yet they were future focal points for centralizing risks. Historically, they would also stand against Montezuma II in the future, splitting the alliance¡¯s power.


    Xiulote sighed, it seemed all he could do now was wait for Gillim to return and see how the Divine Tree of the ancestors would deal with the fledging eaglets. He continued feeding the little golden eagle.


    After eating the last piece of meat, the satisfied little Ahuehuete finally let out a few "yoo yoo" calls, then started preening its own feathers. Its wings were growing larger, with newly sprouted dark-tipped feathers, soft as down to the touch.


    Taking advantage of the little Ahuehuete¡¯s lowered guard, Aweit finally managed to swiftly touch the little golden eagle¡¯s head, greatly pleased with the soft feel.


    He said to Xiulote with a grin, "This little eagle was found by you. How about we call it Xiulolotel? It also describes how it will soar through the sky like lightning in the future."


    The youth looked somewhat embarrassed at his friend, "This... uh... I¡¯ve already named the little golden eagle."


    "Oh? What is it called?" Aweit smiled at the youth.


    "That... since I found it on the Ahuehuete tree, so... I named it Ahuehuete."


    Aweit¡¯s smile froze on his face.


    Then, he reached his hand out toward the youth¡¯s cheek.


    The youth, who was prepared, dodged with a jump back, thanks to his Samurai training.


    "Aweit, listen to me, this name can still be discussed!..." S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote kept dodging and moving, while Aweit, showcasing the skill of an elite Samurai, rapidly engaged and retreated in attack and defense. After a while, Aweit¡¯s martial arts proved superior; he cornered the youth in a corner of the room, using his significant strength and fierce hands.


    "Ouch, ouch, ouch, my face..." Familiar cries of agony rose again.


    The youth¡¯s screams alarmed the Ahuehuete preening its feathers; it peeked out, looking at the two who temporarily set aside their worries, removed their masks, relaxed and genuine.


    "Chirp chirp?" Little Ahuehuete seemed puzzled.


    Young eagles cannot comprehend the Divine Tree, for their view of the world is not the same.

 Chapter 130 - 84: Names

    Under Aweit¡¯s strong recommendation and friendly negotiation, the little golden eagle received a prominent name, Aviloztli. A new word was created by taking parts from both of their names. In the Nahuatl language, this new word could be perceived as "lake water and lightning," or alternatively "majesty and death."


    Of course, Xiulote still preferred to call the golden eagle by its nickname, Ahuehuete, in private.


    "Chirp chirp?" Ahuehuete, no, Aviloztli continued to call out curiously. It tilted its head, looking at the two faces that were very close, both watching it intently. It recognized these two people, one was the kind person who fed it daily, and the other was the bad person who always wanted to touch it.


    The intelligence of golden eagles, akin to that of crows and herons, was among the highest in birds. After reaching adulthood, their intelligence could equate to that of a seven-year-old child. Trained golden eagles could recognize complex human gestures, understand short syllable commands, and also possessed long-term memory.


    They usually soared at altitudes around two thousand meters, their vision being more than eight times that of a human. At this height, they could identify a half-meter-long rabbit on the ground within two kilometers. They could also hover over specific targets, pointing out directions for their masters.


    Smart crows could recognize traffic lights and roads, placing nuts on the road during red lights, waiting for cars to crush the nutshells. Parrots, capable of mimicking speech, ranked in the middle, while birds with very small heads like quails, emus, and ostriches, were at the lower end of the avian intelligence spectrum.


    "Should we give it a surname?" Xiulote gently regarded the fluffy little golden eagle, feeling that it could accompany him for a very long time.


    "Surname? You mean a family name?" Aweit pondered briefly.


    "We Mexica have only truly developed over the past century and don¡¯t have fixed family names. Usually, names of nobility¡¯s children come from great ancestors or gods in mythology, followed by various titles. Commoner¡¯s names, however, derive from everyday life and famous warriors on the battlefield."


    "For instance, my grandfather Montezuma I¡¯s full name was Montezuma Ilhuicamina, and my great uncle Trakel Er¡¯s full name was We-we Trakel Er, where We-we means a venerable elder. If we really need a fixed surname... we could choose the name of a heroic figure, like Montezuma."


    "However, heroic figures themselves do not need a family name! It is not their family that glorified them, but they who brought glory to their family! Their names could serve as surnames for others, like Aweit, like Xiulote."


    At this, Aweit laughed out loud.


    Xiulote nodded. At that time, Mexica society still lacked a clear system of family names and laws on family succession. Names were generally tied to the expectations of the elders, and prestigious individuals had many suffixes. Repeated names were distinguished by "younger or older," such as Montezuma II, who was Montezuma Xocoyotzin, Xocoyotzin meaning "young child."


    In the later years of New Spain, to solidify distant rule, the King of Spain had conferred the title of Earl upon Montezuma¡¯s descendants. These royal members were henceforth known by the surname De Montezuma.


    Female descendants also possessed rights to inherit property and nobility status. For instance, Aweit¡¯s Divine Staff and family warriors were inherited from his mother, Atotoztli II. She was Montezuma I¡¯s daughter, succeeded her father as the tribal leader, and also inherited part of the wealth and military force.


    The two continued to chat while watching the little Aviloztli, the tiny, soft, and fluffy pet indeed brightening their mood.


    "Where has Acap gone? I haven¡¯t seen him."


    "Hearing that Quetzal summoned the old ancestors, he immediately went to Teotihuacan to discuss with the Chief Priest."


    Aweit continued to play with the little Aviloztli. He rapidly wiggled his fingers in front of the little golden eagle, whose eyes twinkled as they followed. As the speed of the fingers increased, the eyes of Aviloztli also turned into lightning.


    "Has Tlalocnesaval¡¯s Holy City Legion responded? The sixteen thousand Samurai and twenty thousand Militia there make up the only formidable military group that poses a threat to us."


    Xiulote reached out to stop Aweit¡¯s fingers. He was somewhat concerned that little Aviloztli might be played too rough. However, with the eagle¡¯s vision and eye structure, these movements were actually trivial to it. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "King Uncle Tlalocnesaval replied that he will not interfere with the internal royal succession of Tenochtitlan. However, his army has slightly retracted and is now away from contact with the Tlaxcala people. Although he is currently staying in Atotoztli City without moving, if he really needs to move, he could return to the Capital in just two weeks. He must already know about the end of the old ancestor¡¯s seclusion and has likely also sent an Envoy."


    "By the way, Tlalocnesaval is both my uncle and Prince Biril Nesawar of Texcoco¡¯s uncle. Biril here means ¡¯Prince¡¯ and Nesawar means ¡¯Fast.¡¯ The Texcoco lineage of the City-State has been enduring for many years, bearing the formal family name, Nesawar."


    Since the death of the Poet King, Coyote Nesawar, we in Tenochtitlan have always tried to fully annex Texcoco. However, Prince Biril, though only eighteen, is far from simple; he is quite resourceful. He had handed over fourteen thousand samurai of Texcoco, but eight thousand of them remained under Tlalocnesaval¡¯s command, maintaining Texcoco¡¯s independence and influence.


    "Now, as soon as he heard that I had replaced Tizoc, he immediately sent people to pledge allegiance and even proposed marriage to my eldest daughter."


    At this point, Aviloztli gave Xiulote a meaningful look.


    Xiulote was silent for a moment. Then the sincerity and determination showed in the young man¡¯s eyes.


    "Aviloztli, I understand what you¡¯re suggesting. I swear to the heavens, I will cherish my future wife, offer my sincerity, protect and tolerate with a gentle heart, and never let complex power struggles harm her!"


    Looking at the young man¡¯s eyes, Aviloztli slowly nodded.


    "I believe in your character and abilities. That is why I chose you."


    There was a moment of silence between them. Aviloztli changed the subject, stroking the swaying little Aviloztli and smiling, "Is this an eagle or a hawk?"


    Xiulote also smiled and reached out his hand, "Actually, I¡¯m also curious about this question, but I just can¡¯t tell."


    Then they turned little Aviloztli around, gently held it down, and carefully examined it. But the golden eagle had no obvious physical differences between males and females, so they truly couldn¡¯t tell. Little Aviloztli struggled desperately on the cotton cloth, flapping its wings and calling "cheep cheep," trying to escape from the "clutches."


    After a while, the two looked at each other, both future eagles, yet unable to distinguish the sex of the eagle.


    "When it grows up, if it¡¯s a female, it should be much larger in size and have longer claws," Xiulote finally recalled some common knowledge about birds after thinking for a long time.


    "Oh, well, let¡¯s see what happens then," Aviloztli said with a slight smile, his smile hinting at a deeper meaning.


    The two briefly discussed the arrangements for the siege and the situation at the camp.


    "Aviloztli, are you planning to disband the gathered City-State Legion?" Xiulote solemnly asked.


    "Indeed, I am planning to do so," Aviloztli nodded.


    "We now have two thousand nobility Battle Groups, twenty-seven thousand directly commanded, plus your returned Casal remnants, which makes thirty thousand directly commanded, enough to besiege Xilotepec City. Casal has already pledged his loyalty to me, but I¡¯m not ready to use him yet. I¡¯ll let him sit idle for a while and hone him a bit more."


    "The matters in the capital city are no longer to be accomplished by the army, and the local City-State Legion is not suitable for entering the capital; it would harm the majesty of the Royal Family. I¡¯ve communicated with the City-State chiefs many times and have a general idea of their situations. It¡¯s time to disband the twenty-five thousand City-State Legion from the Seven States. I must also disband at least thirty thousand Militia to fulfill the promise made before."


    "In the next few days, I will reward the various City-State Legions once more and also supplement your Teotihuacan Legion¡¯s samurai count. Afterwards, the Holy City Legion can return first and wait for news in Teotihuacan, as the Divine Staff¡¯s information is not less than mine. Along the lake waterways, the Holy City is only three to four days away from the capital."


    Aviloztli decided the large army¡¯s future action. His expression was calm and serious; the Holy City Legion is an effective force in reserve.


    Xiulote nodded in agreement, as the problems of the capital city were political, not military. They would wait for Gillim to return, and then the Royal Banner could officially head south.


    The two briefly discussed the preparations for moving south, and Xiulote was ready to take his leave. He was going to prepare some gifts for the immortal Trakel Er. Under Aviloztli¡¯s strong insistence and repeated assurances, the young man finally left little Aviloztli temporarily in the care of his friend.


    Watching the "good person" leave, little Aviloztli stuck out its head, softly inquiring with a confused "chirp? chirp chirp?" Following that, its voice turned into an urgent loud call "cheep cheep!", as it saw the approaching "bad person" Aviloztli, who was smilingly watching it.

 Chapter 131 - 85: Papermaking, Cotton Armor, and Gifts

    As the sun passed its zenith, its cold light illuminated the earth without respite. High above, white clouds drifted far away in the sky, elusive. A gentle autumn breeze swept by, carrying a hint of chill within its dry caress. Under the sunlight, Samurai donned their armor and wielded their weapons, besieging the enemy city with an air of deadly solemnity between heaven and earth.


    Leaving the command tent, Xiulote first went to visit his father. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After a month of recuperation, Xiuxoke was able to get out of bed and move around. His complexion showed a slight flush, indicating he was in good spirits.


    Xiulote paid his respects to his father, and after briefly exchanging greetings, the conversation naturally turned to Trakel Er who had recently returned to power.


    "Father, what kind of person is Elder Trakel Er really?"


    Xiuxoke pondered for a moment, gazing at the sky outside the tent before he slowly spoke.


    "Elder Trakel Er is the sun in the sky, a symbol of dignity. I have grown up listening to his name. His gaze is above the clouds, never concerning himself with the battles of beasts beneath his feet. His thoughts are as lofty as the clouds, elusive to ordinary minds. One thing that¡¯s certain is his strong will! Like the autumn sun, it brings cold and deadly intent from the sky, making his subjects reverently obey, unable to hide from or alter it."


    Xiulote mused over this, exchanged a few more words with his father, and then hurriedly left the tent.


    He summoned the old carpenter Kuode, whom he hadn¡¯t seen for a long time. Ever since taking on the task of making longbows, the old carpenter¡¯s status had risen swiftly, and now he had been appointed by Aweit as the army¡¯s head Craftsman, with several Samurai providing protection whenever he went out.


    "Priest, during the more than twenty days of your expedition, another fifty longbows were made in the camp, and can now be delivered to you."


    Kuode reported respectfully, followed by several newly recruited apprentices.


    Xiulote nodded. Due to a lack of metal tools and skilled Craftsmen, the production of high-quality longbows was exceptionally slow. Accounting for war damages, they had managed to accumulate only about two hundred. He had already ordered Kuode to recruit more apprentices, centralize more bronze tools, and maximise efficiency. The only way to achieve a breakthrough increase in production was to access the vast population of Craftsmen in the Capital.


    "Kuode, select a high-quality longbow for me, add fine decorations and patterns to it, as I want to use it as a gift for the Elder. Also, make a small wooden trebuchet for me, about half the height of a person would do. Lastly, did you do the thing I instructed you before the expedition?"


    Kuode called over an apprentice to ask, then smiled and replied.


    "Priest, you asked me to soak the excess bark from bow making in a pond with lime water, which has now been soaked for three weeks. As for the fine hemp mats you mentioned, they have been ready for a while."


    Under Kuode¡¯s guidance, Xiulote made his way to the soaking pond. Indeed, he had harbored the idea of papermaking for a long time. Having given instructions for the soaking process on several occasions, he now finally had both the urgent need and the time to illuminate the technology of papermaking.


    It¡¯s worth noting that lime water is a necessity for survival in Central America, widely used in the nixtamalization process of corn. Natural corn is not a complete nutritional food, lacking absorbable niacin, or vitamin B3. Making untreated corn the primary food would lead to pellagra and anemia, with serious skin inflammation. Without dietary improvements, sufferers from pellagra would die within five years.


    In fact, corn does contain enough niacin, but it is bound with hemicellulose. Soaking and heating corn in lime water can hydrolyze the hemicellulose, thus releasing niacin. This treatment also softens the corn, enhancing its texture, and is a prerequisite step for making delicious masa flour.


    Xiulote recalled the process of papermaking. In his memory, the essence of papermaking was: to disperse plant fibers to form pulp, process the pulp for recombination of fibers, and allow the pulp to settle evenly into a sheet of paper.


    To disperse the plant fibers and remove impurities, there were soaking, washing, and boiling processes. To recombine the fibers, one had to pound the pulp with manpower or water power into a paste. Finally, to distribute the paper evenly, it was scooped up with bamboo or a hemp mat, then dried and shaped.


    This was all Xiulote remembered about the art of papermaking. As for bleaching techniques, paper pulling skills, bamboo paper baking, or the temperature for drying, they were all non-existent to him. He did have an impression of two methods: the fermented and unfermented papermaking, the difference being that the fermented batch needed to be boiled, while the unfermented had to be trampled on.


    Xiulote had analyzed that Central America, in its lush tropical environment, had an extensive range of raw materials suitable for papermaking, which could facilitate the development of a large-scale paper industry.


    The most common raw materials for papermaking are various kinds of hemp. The cheapest and most widely distributed is jute, which also yields a high output of fibers. Then there¡¯s henequen agave used in everyday life; the ropes used by Samurai to capture prisoners are made from henequen. Next is cotton; America is the homeland of cotton, with its various species cultivated over large areas. However, in the different Mexica regions, cotton cloth is often used as currency, thus making it too expensive for paper production.


    Then there are various types of bark, like the sandalwood bark currently in use. Central America is not lacking in trees, but what is missing are metal tools for felling trees and stripping bark. Then there is bamboo¡ªthere are few types of bamboo in Central America, mainly concentrated in the eastern regions, and while they haven¡¯t developed the variety of bamboo products from the Celestial Empire, the indigenous tribes do use bamboo to make blowguns. Lastly, there are various grass materials, such as the reeds along the coastal regions.

 Chapter 132 - 85: Papermaking, Cotton Armor, and Gifts_2

    Xiulote examined the corn stalks, uncertain whether this abundant material could be used for papermaking. The outer skin of corn stalks felt hard and had many nodes, which did not seem to be ideal for making paper. Later, he could have the craftsmen give it a try.


    Thinking of cotton and maguey, Xiulote was reminded of the Mexica armor. Due to the lack of domesticated large animals, sturdy leather armor was often only owned by senior warriors, while cotton armor was the most widely used equipment among the warriors.


    Armor was a symbol of distinction between warriors and militia. The standard gear for warriors was the Ichcahuipilli, "cotton upper garment", a type of light cotton-maguey war armor. Its shape ressembled a thick vest, each layer woven from a mix of cotton and sisal, then pressed into form in multiple layers. Cotton provided cutting protection, while sisal offered cooling and sweat-absorbing effects. This cotton armor could effectively increase the warriors¡¯ defense against obsidian clubs and stone arrowheads.


    As warriors rose in rank, starting from the second level Vastec hunters, they began to equip the Tlahuiztli, "war clothes", a full-body light war armor. War clothes were usually worn over the Ichcahuipilli, also made by weaving together cotton and maguey fibers. As warriors continued to climb in rank, their war clothes would be painted with various patterns, becoming increasingly splendid and majestic.


    Fourth level veteran warriors began to wear various feathers and sew various beast skins, illustrating eagles and jaguars on their war clothes. When reaching the ranks of Eagle and Jaguar nobility battle groups, the war clothes would upgrade to leather armor draped with feathers.


    For head protection, low-ranking warriors wore various cotton-maguey or leather caps, while high-ranking warriors and commanders wore helmets fashioned after different beasts. The beast helmet, Cacalotl, was a symbol of honor, actually made of wood rather than bone.


    The beast helmet Xiulote often wore looked extremely majestic, a brightly colored and realistic tiger head, but in reality, it was exceedingly heavy and lacked ventilation. This meant he always gave orders with a stern and cool demeanor, while sweat streamed down his face.


    He intended, once he acquired the copper mines of Tarasco, to first craft bronze helmets, as wooden beast helmets were lacking in both defense and comfort. Bronze armor was somewhat heavy, so initially he planned to imitate the design of half-body Ancient Greek armor, adding skirt armor and greaves. Only after the development of the shallow iron mines of Colima could he consider more advanced scale armor, stab armor, chain mail, and as for the highest-grade plate armor technology, it still seemed far off in the future.


    Under Xiulote¡¯s command and the craftsmen¡¯s operation, the first papermaking experiment tentatively began.


    The preparation of soaking the materials was already completed; next came cooking the materials. The craftsmen built a wooden stove with a hearth and boiled the bark in lime water for a day. Xiulote squeezed the bark with his hand and found the fibers had not completely separated. After considering for a while, he had the craftsmen use a stronger alkali, wood ash, for another boil. After another day, the bark finally turned into suitable pulp.


    Next came washing the materials, to remove the lime residue and some solubles from the pulp. Since labor was plentiful, Xiulote only needed to observe until he was satisfied that the pulp was clean enough.


    Not knowing about the whitening process, after washing, they went straight to beating the materials. Dozens of workers used thick wooden pestles to repeatedly beat the pulp in stone mortars, at the same time, picking out impurities and coarse materials. After several hours, the pulp was finally beaten into a paste. Looking at it, Xiulote felt it was not much different from the pulp he remembered, just slightly yellowish.


    Then came the technical part of papermaking, dissolving the pulp in water troughs, then evenly spreading it on hemp mats to form thin sheets of wet paper. Although Xiulote was strict, the thickness of the wet paper was still uneven. The accumulated wet paper should have been gently pressed once more to remove water, but this step was also forgotten, so they moved directly on to drying the paper.


    Xiulote first tried drying the paper with a bonfire, saw the paper curl and deform, and then realized the drying temperature needed to be uniform and not too high. He had the craftsmen build a clay furnace for drying, where the wet paper was placed on the outer walls to dry slowly. Of course, he was still unaware of the polishing process.


    Over several days, the processes were repeatedly modified and repeated. When Xiulote finally held a piece of bark paper that was rough, tough, slightly thick, yellowish and grayish, a flood of emotions overcame him.


    "This is a small step for me, but a giant leap for Indian civilization!" the young man thought proudly, momentarily ignoring the uneven thickness and impurities of the paper.


    Papermaking technology was introduced to the Arab world in the eighth century and Europe in the twelfth century. Europe at that time was still using parchment and paper equally. On this point, America still had plenty of opportunity to catch up with Europe.


    Xiulote instructed the craftsmen to continue making paper without stopping; he needed a sufficient number of papers to demonstrate the superiority of the new technology. Then, he carefully copied the most commonly used one thousand Han characters onto the paper with a writing brush.


    During this time, he visited little Aviloztli several times. Upon seeing him, the little golden eagle would chirp enthusiastically and flap its wings. Immediately, Aweit touched the head of the little golden eagle with a smile, and little Aviloztli fell silent and obediently listened.


    Xiulote smiled with satisfaction; it seemed that Aweit and the little golden eagle were getting along well. The youth then turned and walked away, ignoring little Aviloztli¡¯s "deep" longing and desire. Aweit stood at the wooden hut¡¯s door with a smile, while the little golden eagle was overshadowed by his figure.


    After ten days, Xiulote looked at the gifts before him with satisfaction: an exquisitely decorated longbow, a small model of a trebuchet, a set of wooden planks illustrating the "Oracle Bone Script/Pictograph" and their corresponding Han characters, a roll of the Thousand Character Text that didn¡¯t match from front to back, and a whole three loads of paper.


    In that time, Aweit also bestowed rewards and disbanded the City-State Warriors of the Seven States. Each state¡¯s leader and commanders of various levels bid Aweit respectful farewells before leading the warriors on the long-awaited journey home. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Olosh, leading the Teotihuacan Battle Group, also said goodbye to Xiulote and departed, Xiuxoke gave his son a gentle hug, then weakly boarded a small boat and left.


    Two days later, Gillim finally arrived from the Capital City. Covered in dust, he paid great homage upon seeing Aweit.


    "Your Majesty, the immortal sun Trakel Er summons you to the Capital, requesting you to leave at least twenty thousand Mexica warriors to continue the siege of Xilotepec City until it falls," Gillim said.


    "What did the old ancestor say?" Aweit asked, his expression serious and his gaze piercing.


    "Congratulations to Your Majesty! The elder has agreed for you to inherit the throne, but he wants to meet with you once. It should be to finalize the verdict on Tizoc¡¯s death and to protect the dignity of the Royal Family. It may also be to resolve the conflict between you and the Chief Priest Quetzal," Gillim replied.


    Gillim paid his respects once more.


    "Good, no time should be wasted! Gather ten thousand warriors; the army will head south by water, setting out as soon as possible!" Aweit said, smiling confidently, for everything was as he had anticipated, and he was the only suitable successor.


    Gillim took his leave with a bow. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Xiulote¡¯s delighted smile, and sighed inwardly.


    "Your Highness, for the sake of the king, I can only apologize to you!" he murmured.


    The next day, two thousand nobility Battle Groups and eight thousand personal warriors boarded the broad fleet of hundreds of ships, sailing upstream toward the majestic Lake Capital City.

 Chapter 133 - 86 Lake Capital City, Tenochtitlan! Part One

    The Mexican Valley in November was tranquil and joyous, much like the clusters of Ahuehuete blossoms that exuded a piney fragrance in the gentle breeze.


    The fleet, bearing the Royal Banner of Aweit and the Samurai, navigated southward along the Tampen River, with the warm sun rippling over the river surface. Though the journey through the breeze and flowing water took merely two or three days, they soon entered the prosperous and beautiful Mexican Valley, the actual territory governed by the Empire.


    The Mexica villages along the way had already completed this year¡¯s harvest and tribute, and the fields were scattered with beans ready to sow. The wealthy villages had enough beans to plant to restore the fertility of the soil, in preparation for an even more prosperous following year.


    Under the distant salutations of the villagers, the royal convoy continued southward, reaching Lake Haltocan a week later. Xiulote gazed far toward the East, towards Teotihuacan, his birthplace and home just a day¡¯s journey away.


    This area was the heartland of the Mexica people, with numerous Mexica boats continually arriving, carrying village Elders who offered fresh vegetables, fruits, and precious light liquors to the convoy.


    Melodious songs surrounded the fleet all along the journey, bold declarations of love from maidens adoring the Samurai. Like water lilies, they danced at the bow in their thin white robes, elegantly revealing their graceful figures to the Samurai. As night fell, Samurai occasionally slipped away from the rear of the fleet to rendezvous with the girls on the boats, enjoying the moonlight, the Milky Way, and joyful songs together. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the secure heartland of the Empire, Aweit did not restrain the Samurai.


    The fleet continued south, entering the fundamental land of the Mexica people¡ª1.5 million inhabitants of the Texcoco Lake District, a direct territory of the Capital¡¯s tri-cities and the wealthiest area in Central America.


    The villages along the way were densely scattered, with smoke from cooking fires rising continuously from both riverbanks and faint sounds of ancient flutes and deep drums in the autumn air, accompanying the songs of the community Samurai and Priests. Xiulote sniffed the air lightly and smelled the spicy aroma of roasted turkey and the fresh scent of roasted corn, suddenly feeling somewhat hungry.


    This was a blessing banquet hosted by the village Elders in the communal hall, where villagers gathered to perform various sacrificial rites, offering food, birds, corn cobs, sage, beans, and wildflowers. Samurai and village leaders gathered joyously, relishing the abundant festivities of autumn.


    Xiulote once again savored the aroma wafting nearby, detecting a special fragrance, similar to burnt sandalwood, carrying an ancient and rustic charm.


    "What is this fragrance? Has the village in the lake region become so affluent that it can afford expensive spices?" Xiulote asked in surprise.


    "Spices are not really expensive items. Besides the products from Chinampa, the periodic gatherings from the forest, and the Alliance continuously receiving large amounts of spice tributes from the people of Mistec, Zapotecs, and Vastec from the northeast," Elder Priest Ugus proudly answered with a smile. In the massive army, Aweit had to maintain dignity, and Gillim was always serious. So, Ugus, a noble son from the Capital City, became Xiulote¡¯s tour guide, telling him about the beauty and wealth of the Capital Lake District.


    "This must be the blessing banquet of the village community Elders. At the final stage of the banquet, the Priests and high-ranking Samurai light the fragrant Cobalt tree resin, praying to the deities and ancestors for a bountiful harvest next year."


    The Lake Region was the foundational territory under the rule of the Alliance. The villages here were closely organized into clearly defined communities, Calpulli, similar to the households registered under the Qin Dynasty. Each community was managed by four Elders, typically ennobled military veterans, seasoned Samurai from the common people, and Temple Priests appointed by the Capital City.


    Whenever the war horn blew, each village community was required to provide a squad of 200 Samurai and Militia, and the richness of their equipment was directly proportional to the village¡¯s wealth. Generally, the closer a village was to the Capital City, the more affluent and numerous the Samurai were.


    This was already home for many Samurai in the fleet; they were born here, received military training in the Capital City, passed the selection assessment, and then joined the royal legion, becoming noble Samurai.


    The fleet continued its journey south, with the air filling with various comfortable floral scents and the fresh, lemon-like aroma of ripe cocoa fruit. Xiulote looked around, witnessing everywhere in the Lake Region the thriving foundation of the Mexica people, the floating Chinampas in the lake.


    These floating gardens were tightly fenced around their perimeter, with a base of mud mixed with wooden stakes. Although it was autumn, farmers were still busy planting on the Chinampas. In addition to corn, beans, and squash, Xiulote also saw cocoa trees being harvested and avocado trees beginning to bear fruit, along with various finely cared-for Herbs, all foods supplied to the Nobility.


    The Chinampas on the lake could be farmed all year round. Lake Texcoco guaranteed the water necessary for crop growth, the lake mud provided ample nutrients, and autumn and winter in Mexico never brought low temperatures or snow.


    It was the dry season now, and the water channels were shallowly sliced between the neatly arranged Chinampas, with the water barely deeper than a person. Occasionally, wealthy farmers in white clothes navigated small boats, probing with fishing nets to scoop up sludge from the lake bottom and channels, which they then evenly spread over the floating fields.


    Surrounding the floating fields were submerged, fermenting straw and leaves, while faintly seen fish chased scattered grains in the lake. From time to time, small boats loaded with excrement fertilizer came from the southern Capital City, adding to the Chinampas. This might be the earliest form of ecological agriculture.

 Chapter 134 - 86 Lake Capital City, Tenochtitlan! Up_2

    The boat master continued sailing south for a day and finally arrived at the North Gate of Tenochtitlan, the village of Tepayac, where ten thousand Samurai disembarked. Next, Xiulote would walk along the Long Bridge for several miles to reach the Lake Capital City. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote left the affluent village on the North Coast and came to the edge of Lake Texcoco. He stopped unconsciously, only to see a beautiful white stone Long Bridge, cutting across the boundless lake like a long rainbow alongside the dark earth embankments, linking to the magnificent stone Capital City not far away. The bridge was bustling with people like ants, occasionally parted by Priests and Nnobility wearing feather headdresses, creating temporary voids in the crowd.


    In his heart, he estimated that the stone bridge under his feet was about ten meters wide, flanked by embankments of equal width, providing a full thirty meters of road that could accommodate sixty people walking side by side, stretching for five or six kilometers. And as he looked around, more Long Bridges and embankments spread out in the distance, as if the brushstrokes of deities had joyfully divided Lake Texcoco.


    Under the sunlight, the lake surface shimmered with the glistening water, the white bridge and the lake shining together, like the realm above. Thousands of small boats carrying goods and people came from all directions, nimbly passing between the bridges. Only upon closer examination did Xiulote realize the clever design of the bridges and embankments, with specialized arc-shaped holes left at intervals, allowing the small boats to shuttle under the feet of pedestrians with the lake water.


    "Bridges lay upon waves, yet why speak of dragons? Paths cross the sky, yet why speak of rainbows?"


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes were filled with the colors of the lake, the traversing crowd on the Long Bridge, and the white stone palaces and red-tiled Temples at the end. This was a grandeur he had never imagined!


    "Xiulote, Priest, what are you muttering to yourself?" Ugus said with a smile as he looked toward Xiulote. Every resident of the Capital City took pleasure in witnessing the shock and wonder in the eyes of foreigners seeing the Capital for the first time.


    "I was counting the number of bridges." Xiulote said with a faint smile, quickly regaining his composure.


    "To the North, there are two main bridges leading to the villages on the North Coast. To the West, there are two main bridges and four smaller ones, running north to south, one leading to the old Capital of Azcapotzalco of the Tepanec, two leading to the middle Tlacopan, and another to the South toward Chapultepec.


    There are also two major aqueducts to the West! From the foothills of the Prepetcha Highlands in the West, they traverse mountains and valleys to bring water into the Capital City¡ªtruly a massive undertaking! Usually, one is open for transporting fresh water, and the other is closed for cleaning. To the South, there is one main bridge and two smaller ones, each leading to the city-states on the South Coast.


    And to the East of the Capital City lies the Long Causeway spanning the entire lake, like the embrace of a Goddess, protecting the grand waterborne Capital City from the floods of the rainy season and the brackish water of the outer lake.


    This is the dwelling place of deities on Earth. It¡¯s the immortal Sun, Trakel Er listening to the will of the gods, the Divine Kingdom built by humans!"


    Ugus described the grandeur of the Lake Capital City with passion, inadvertently using the lavish accents of the Capital City, singing a Priest¡¯s praise.


    "This is the island surrounded by eight bridges and the Long Causeway, where the eagle descended, the place of white stones on the lake, the home where the cactus blooms, the Mexica-Tenochtitlan!"


    Xiulote inwardly marveled, and he too sang the praises in the deep, melodious tone of the Holy City.


    Within his field of view, bridges and causeways cut through the lake surface at will, interweaving a network across the floating fields in the lake. Hundreds of canoes rushed like shuttles, bringing the world¡¯s Wealth and tributes. In the distance stood endless stone houses, bustling crowds, and the strikingly tall twin pyramids of the Great Pyramid Temple.


    This is the center of civilization, where bridges, boats, Temples, palaces, Samurai, and Priests converge, the grandest city in America, the Lake Capital City covering fourteen square kilometers!


    Xiulote had once asked Aweit how many people lived in the Lake Capital City. Aweit told him with a smile that the Lake Capital City boasted eighty Calpulli communities and an unparalleled population of two hundred and fifty thousand.


    When the Spaniards first came to the Lake Capital City, they were astonished by the massive stone metropolis and praised it as "the Venice of the New World." However, in Xiulote¡¯s view, that was but a narrow comparison.


    In that era, Venice covered an area of only eight square kilometers and had a maximum population of one hundred and twenty thousand, not even half that of the Lake Capital City, with its Long Causeways and water channel facilities completely beyond comparison. Venice might as well be called "the Europe of Tenochtitlan!"


    If Xiulote were to make a comparison, the Lake Capital City should be likened to the Han Dynasty¡¯s Chang¡¯an, with an area of 36 square kilometers and a population of 300,000 or Rome, with the same area of 15 square kilometers but a population estimated at an astounding one million. In any case, this was unquestionably the center of the Empire, the most splendid site of Central American civilization!


    Under the raised Royal Banner, ten thousand elite Samurai marched in orderly columns south along the Long Bridge. Wherever the Royal Banner went, pedestrians on the bridge moved aside to the deeper parts of the embankments on both sides, kneeling in the lake water that rose above their lower legs.


    Aweit, with the majestic demeanor of a King, led the way, while Xiulote accompanied him on either side. Together, they advanced as if entering a land devoid of people.


    He observed carefully, seven-tenths of the crowd comprised commoners in single-color hemp or cotton clothes, without hats, prostrating themselves in the water; two-tenths were Craftsmen and merchants in dyed cotton clothes and wearing cotton hats, kneeling on both knees; five percent were various levels of Samurai and military Nobility in colorful War Clothes and simple Feathers, kneeling on one knee; and a very few High Priests and Great Nobility in embroidered garb and lofty Feather Crowns, bowing their heads respectfully.

 Chapter 135 - 86 Lake Capital City, Tenochtitlan! Up_3

    Where the Royal Banner passed, there lay only the citizens who knelt to the Empire. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The sun had just risen, its glorious rays ablaze, and thousands upon thousands of hills seemed to catch fire. In an instant, it ascended into the sky¡¯s boulevard, chasing away the stars and the waning moon."


    Xiuolote¡¯s heart was a torrent of emotions. He was surrounded by tens of thousands of soldiers and knelt by tens of thousands of people; this was the rigidly hierarchical Mexica society, this was the taste of supreme power!


    Under the Royal Banner, the young man was slightly intoxicated but soon became alert, regaining the clarity in his eyes. He then leaned forward slightly to look at the majestic Aweit. The latter¡¯s expression was as calm as usual, his eyes sparkling, and so he nodded inwardly.


    Along their path, as the great army traversed the Long Bridge amidst the reverence of countless people, the North City of the Lake Capital City lay before them, the once City-State of Tlatelolco. This City-State was one of the twin cities first established by the Mexica people on the Lake Island, about a quarter the size of the main city in the south, Tenochtitlan.


    With the expansion of the Mexica, the Lake Capital City developed rapidly; the two cities eventually merged into one, leaving only an arched water channel at their boundary, providing the two sides of the city with the most important fresh water.


    Xiuolote proceeded, with intersecting bridges and waterways in front of him. In the North City of Tlatelolco, most houses were built on small patches of land in the water, many of which were newly filled islands. These houses were the dwellings for the commoners or ordinary Samurai, neatly arranged according to the plan.


    The intersecting waterways resembled a chessboard with straight sides, the houses clustering in blocks like pieces dropped by the Heavenly Divine. The foundation of each house was a stone platform to prevent flood inundation. The foundations of the houses were white granite or red volcanic rock, the roofs were wooden beams and rods, and the exterior was plastered with clay. The layout of the houses were straight, typically divided into a bedroom, kitchen, storeroom, and slave quarters.


    Whenever a certain number of houses congregated into blocks, a small community market and a fully stone-constructed community temple would emerge at the center. The communities within the city resembled the wards in Chang¡¯an during the Tang Dynasty, housing approximately three thousand people, possessing not only economic functions but also military functions.


    This kind of temple represented the deepest roots of the reigning Divine Tree of the Empire, tendrils reaching into the grassroots, forming the foundation of the Mexica¡¯s strong mobilization capacity. Likewise, four elders were in charge of each community, usually collecting tributes, overseeing the enlistment of suitable youths into military schools, and during wartime, assembling battle groups of one hundred to two hundred Samurai.


    As Xiuolote calculated, the North City of Tlatelolco housed around ten communities, far fewer than the eighty communities in the four major districts of the main city. Therefore, it was eventually absorbed by the main city and came under the direct administration of the Royal Family, establishing the position of City Lord of Tlatelolco. In this era, everything was ultimately determined by population and martial strength.


    After nearly an hour¡¯s march, the great army finally arrived at the center of the North City. The centers of the cities in Central America were similar to those of the city-states of Rome, always dominated by towering temples and a vast central plaza. Xiuolote gazed at the near forty-meter-high twin pyramids, the Tlatelolco Temple, before shifting his focus to the central plaza that served as a grand marketplace.


    For in the main city to the south, which he could see, stood the truly magnificent Great Temple of the Mexica.


    North City was far from the religious and political center of the main city, away from the sprawling villas of the Great Nobility, so there was ample space, allowing for the formation of a huge marketplace. This marketplace was twice the size of the main city market, with about sixty thousand people trading here daily!


    The marketplace was a flat open space, surrounded by connecting water channels, with rows of arches on the edges. Traders from across two oceans arrived by boat, transporting goods directly to the arches. Thrifty traders slept under the arches with their goods.


    Based on the type of goods, the market was divided into different zones. On the edges were the most common items: fruits, vegetables, staple food, various stone tools and pottery containers, wooden furniture, firewood and pine strips, plain cotton, and hemp clothes and blankets, as well as ordinary obsidian knives, bone knives, bone needles, and spinning awls. These were the daily necessities of the commoners and also covered the largest area.


    Moving further in, there were bright woven feather cloaks, ornate patterned rugs, exquisite samurai battle garments, obsidian clubs, and wooden shields, witch doctor priests¡¯ herb potions, various dried meats and fish, and the hides of tigers, deer, coyotes, and otters, completed concoctions of cold cocoa and tequila, honey and maple sugar candies. Xiulote noted down the location, planning to return when he had some free time.


    Between the center and the edge was a huge slave market with diverse origins. Most of the slaves had their hands bound with ropes, their necks encircled by a loop of rope attached to a long pole to prevent escape. A few were slaves selling themselves; these were likely destined for the human sacrifice games. Of course, there were exceptions. Great slave traders had enough samurai guards that they allowed their young female slaves free use of their hands to display themselves freely.


    The young man glanced a few times, estimated their ages, and then silently turned back.


    Moving further in, there was the high-end market guarded by samurai. As expected, Xiulote once again saw the Maya people¡¯s self-proclaimed divinely elongated skulls; their shops always had enchanting sacred smoke. Then, he immediately spotted the bronze axes and needles from the west; these small bronze items were priced very high, nearly equivalent to gold and silver ornaments. He also noted down the location of the shops.


    Not far from there was the gold and silver gemstone stalls, especially known for the craftsmanship of the Mistec people who resided in the clouds. All kinds of finely carved gold and silver jewelry, bracelets, and rings with embedded gemstones, and the most precious jade necklaces. There were also some traders from the coastal Vastec and Totonac, selling shimmering seashell decorations; high-grade rose-colored and light red seashells could even equate to the value of gold and silver while pearls were often just an add-on with the seashells.


    In another part of the high-end market, which the nobility favored, were luxury shops selling dyes, spices, and vibrant plants. Tropical flowers competed in beauty, and the air was filled with the Totonac people¡¯s favorite scent of herbs, the beautiful rouge red showcased in exquisite silver bowls, and the pungent smell of horseweed, Mexican oregano, and taco seasoning.


    Xiulote reached the edge of the marching warriors, walking beside the marketplace, marveling at everything in the grand marketplace. In front of him were traders from across two oceans, his ears filled with the eager dialects of various regions, his nostrils with unidentified floral scents and rouge, his hands with the cool touch of gold and silver gemstones; he was momentarily dazzled and overwhelmed.


    It was only when it became quiet by his side, upon seeing traders and commoners respectfully kneeling under the royal banner, that he managed a faint smile, walking back to the mighty marching troops, walking back to the formidable royal banner.


    "Wheels clashing, shoulders brushing, clothes forming tents, sleeves creating canopies, sweat turning into rain," the young man smiled wistfully, praising what a thriving, bustling, prosperous, bountiful, and peaceful place the world was!


    The army did not linger. The elite nobility battle groups merely glanced lightly over the affluent marketplace, their eyes filled with the self-assuredness of deciding the traders¡¯ fates. They followed the royal banner, full of honor and reverence, and boldly headed south, where the majestic main city and towering Great Temple laid.

 Chapter 136 - 87: Lake Capital City, Tenochtitlan! Part Two

    Pure sunlight cascaded from the sky, filled with curiosity for the bustling human world. It fell on the left side of the Great Temple, turning into the gentle Maya blue of the Rain God Temple, and when it fell on the right side, it transformed into the thick volcanic red of the War God Hall. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It continued downward, dancing on the glittering gold spots of the nobility¡¯s palaces, gathering in the Samurai¡¯s courtyard in the form of quaint black patterns, scattering across the commoners¡¯ generously white stone walls, then sparkling radiantly, merging into the Priest¡¯s green-feathered long crowns, into the nobility¡¯s gold and silver jewelry, into the Samurai¡¯s obsidian long staffs, into the commoners¡¯ white robes, reflecting back the light, falling into Xiulote¡¯s black pupils, illuminating his brown irises. Thus, the world of the young man became a riot of colors!


    Xiulote walked among the solemn, resplendent troops, intoxicated by the beautiful scenery along the way. He strolled across the broad, white bridges, over the gleaming water channels, heading into the outskirts of the capital city, arriving at the nobles¡¯ garden area, where a vision of beauty and delicacy unfolded before him.


    A gentle breeze brushed his face, carrying the faint sweetness of wick grass by the waterways and the fresh pine scent of the Ahuehuete cypresses by the embankments. As Xiulote passed by the noble¡¯s courtyards, he always smelled various types of flowers, lingering in the hearts of the passers-by. His gaze moved beyond the low walls, where tropical flowers vied for beauty within the walls, concealing, behind the flower walls, the shapely maidens peeking at the marching Samurai.


    "Flowers fade, leaves of the young apricots are small, when swallows fly, the water winds around people¡¯s homes. Willow catkins blown away again, where in the world isn¡¯t there fragrant grass!"


    Xiulote removed his helmet, smiling as he nodded in greeting to the maiden. The maiden smiled back in response, revealing her unadorned pretty face and the neck adorned with a turquoise necklace. This was a symbol of wisdom, also representing a noble student aged between fifteen to twenty, studying at the Calmecac.


    Every road had fragrant grass, every courtyard had orchids. Flowers were symbols of the Samurai¡¯s life, gardens marked the noble¡¯s status, and the flowers were gifts for the deities and the Venerables. Tenochtitlan was a city on the lake, a city of white stone, a city of temples, and a city of flowers.


    The Great Temple¡¯s Envoy had been waiting here for a long time. According to exalted rituals, the Envoy respectfully presented a beautifully crafted garland and a bundle of bright feathers to Aweit. The garland was made of flowers picked from the lakeside botanical garden and then woven by the Temple¡¯s Saintess. The botanical garden housed various tribute plants and exotic herbs, also a favored spot for the Priests to gather herbs.


    The feathers, too, came from the city¡¯s bird zoo, located on a small island in the Eastern Lake of the capital, where Egrets, Red Sparrows, Hummingbirds, Crowned Pheasants, Swifts, and many brightly colored birds attracted by food roamed freely. On the western side of the main island of the capital lake, there was a meticulously constructed wild animal zoo, home to intelligent silk-furred monkeys, agile deer, guinea pigs, burrowing armadillos, and tree-climbing wildcats.


    And to the north of the wild animal zoo, slightly west in the center of the city, there lay a nearly one-hundred-acre urban lake. Enclosed by sculpted white stone, it was divided into various sections, harboring ornamental and edible freshwater fish, colorful tropical fish, and exotic carnivorous fish from the distant south.


    As was customary, Aweit fastened the feathers to his helmet and put on the garland, then led by the Envoy to the nearby Fire God Huitzilopochtli Temple to the south. The royal musicians began to play, sounding the loud conch, stretching the tenor horns, and striking the deep drums, singing praises from the deities to the king to the Samurai.


    Along the forthcoming journey, Xiulote saw many interesting community signboards, with Ugus explaining jovially beside him. Painted with wick grass near the water channels was the "Toltenko" community; painted with reeds near the lake shore was the "Acalan" community; painted with a water pond, the newly filled "Amanalco" community; and with tall grass at the center of the island, the "Aishuidongke" community.


    These names represented the original condition of the land where each community was first established. Now, as Xiulote looked around, above the past mud and stones, there were straight pines, vibrant flowers, white stone bridges, painted houses, bustling, courteous crowds. There were also temples everywhere, gold and silver statues in the temples, lingering pine incense, and the sumptuous chants of community Priests, offering blessings to the returning King.


    Accompanied by songs and pine scents, the troop moved southeast. Gradually unfolding before him on the eastern shore of the capital was a lengthy white causeway that finally appeared in Xiulote¡¯s sight.


    This majestic long causeway extended north to south, like the Guardian God¡¯s swinging long whip, dividing Lake Texcoco directly in half. The western side was a meticulously developed freshwater lake, the water following a hundred-kilometer-long channel from the highlands of Prepetcha, irrigating the Chinampas along the way and supplying water to the hundreds of thousands of citizens of the capital.


    The eastern side was a brackish water lake traversed by thousands of boats, with merchant ships traveling from the far south to the north, connecting to the broader water systems all the way to the Caribbean Sea. The causeway regulated the salt content of the eastern and western lakes and also protected the capital from the rain season floods. It was a masterpiece by the chief architect of Mexica, akin to the grand design of Dujiangyan.


    On both sides, faint blue or deep blue, undulating with pulsing melodies, simultaneously glittering silver under the sunlight, then merging with the distant sky, flowing into the divine garden.


    "Smoke-willow painted bridge, wind curtain emerald screen, a hundred thousand homes scattered. Cloud trees surround embankment sand, angry waves roll up frost snow, the world¡¯s end nowhere in sight!"


    Facing such earthly beauty and grandeur, what more could Xiulote say? He simply smiled unconsciously, chasing the memories of autumn osmanthus and extensive lotus blooms. Then surrounded by masses of troops, he awaited the day to indulge in revelry, to drunkenly listen to flutes and drums, and to recite poems in the mist and dawn!

 Chapter 137 - 87: Lake Capital City, Tenochtitlan! Part 2

    After walking for over an hour and passing through more than a dozen communities, the great army finally arrived at the Fire God Huitzilopochtli¡¯s Temple, a twenty-meter-high flat-topped pyramid with the Temple at the top. Huitzilopochtli is the Fire God of the Mexica people, ruler of turquoise, and the Elder God. His other name, "We-we" meaning elder, origins from this.


    The Fire God Temple is not very tall, but exceptionally broad. Its walls are made of red volcanic rock, incredibly sturdy and durable, resembling a mini-fortress. At the outer entrance of the capital¡¯s core area, there are four armories, guarding the most central Temple District, Royal Palace District, Great Nobility residences, and the capital¡¯s market.


    This is the northern armory, also a solid northern stronghold. The corresponding southern armory is the God of Death Xiulotel¡¯s Temple, the western armory is the civilian military school of Telpochcalli, and the eastern armory is the southeastern Temple of the Southern Star. Armories usually house several squads of samurai, safeguarding the order and security of the capital, and also protect the core ruling classes. The Temples and the military school are large and sturdy, natural rocky fortresses.


    However, since their construction, for half a century, the four armories had never once performed their military functions. Because with the establishment of the Aztec Empire, no enemy had ever invaded the capital. Mexica¡¯s wars were always unilateral outward expansions, bringing back countless tributes, nourishing the flourishing Lake Capital City.


    Inside the temple stood a meters-tall statue of the Fire God. The Fire God was a muscular man carved out of rock, with his head wearing a gold headband marked with flames and his face painted in red and black, silver teeth sticking out from both sides of his mouth, his upper body bare, his chest adorned with countless turquoise-inlaid butterfly ornaments, and behind him was a brightly colored obsidian long knife.


    Under the guidance of the Temple Priest, everyone entered the Temple and paid their respects to the Fire God in batches. The Fire God Priest presented Aweit with a turquoise chest ornament, fastening it on the King¡¯s chest. Xiulote also paid his respects and made a wish, praying for the enlightenment of turquoise wisdom.


    Next came batches of direct samurai. They prayed in squads, wishing for the end of wars and a safe return. After the solemn prayers were finished, the samurai then faced Aweit and saluted deeply before temporarily disbanding and returning to their own communities. Afterward, the great army would not enter the core of the capital.


    According to the military social norms of Mexica, the most central Temple District held the highest majesty, and the Palace District was not open to ordinary samurai. This was the prestige of the Royal Family and the Great Temple, not to be recklessly damaged.


    After returning to the capital, Gillim had already contacted the intelligence department again, confirming that the elder Trakel Er did not oppose Aweit¡¯s ascension. Throughout the journey, the welcome rituals at the Great Temple were also of a king¡¯s level. Thus, after a brief discussion, Aweit, following political rules, dismissed the legions at the armory, only keeping the newly completed two thousand family samurai.


    Disbanding the legion took several hours. Kuluka, Balda, and Begire each bid farewell to Xiulote in turn; they were heading back to their long-separated homes, to embrace their missed loved ones, to thank the God of Death for sparing their lives, and to thank the War God for granting them victory in their return. Only the solitary Bertade stayed with Xiulote, his face marked with the wear of ages, as timeless as the volcanic rock outside the temple.


    As the two thousand samurai once again clustered around the Royal Banner and headed south, the sun had already begun to set. The closer they got to the center of the city, the more the terrain opened up, and the river channels gradually disappeared. This was the center of the great island in the lake, the original establishment site of the Mexica Capital City, and the location of the Temple District.


    The vast Temple District was neatly surrounded by a three-meter-high stone wall. These once towering stone walls, now insignificant, crept beneath the foot of the Great Temple. Notably, the walls were covered with vivid serpent reliefs, forming a perfect square, and each side was 365 meters in length. This might be a striking coincidence, symbolizing the 365 days in a Maya Sun Calendar year.


    The Temple District contained dozens of different Temples. Particularly important are the corners to the east and west, where there stand two forty-meter-tall single pyramids. One is dedicated to the Feathered Serpent Quetzalcoatl. He possesses the incarnations of the Wind God, Sky God, and Star God, wears an eagle-headed mask, has curved shell earrings, and wears a sparkling conch on his chest.


    The other is dedicated to the original Sun Tezcatlipoca, who is also the Night God, Magic God, the god of divination and destiny, with a black face and body, a yellow headband, his feet replaced by ever-changing mirrors, and various weapons surrounding him.


    At the center of the Temple District, the center of the Lake Capital City, the center of the Aztec Empire, and indeed the center of the Mexica world, stands the Divine Kingdom¡¯s earthly projection, the sacred site of communication between man and god, the unparalleled sixty-meter-tall twin Great Temple! S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote passed through the surrounding wall. He strained to lift his head, letting his Long Feather hang down, then opened his mouth but forgot to speak, merely gazing silently at this Classical Period wonder, his heart surging with tumultuous emotions.


    The majestic Great Temple stood like mountains, soaring cloudward, occupying all sightlines. The base of the Great Temple was two to three hundred meters in length and width, meticulously constructed of pure white giant stones, supporting the lofty upper platform. Atop the base were the twin pyramids, consisting of four sloped steps, each around ten meters high, connected by a central pathway.

 Chapter 138 - 87 Lake Capital City, Tenochtitlan! Part Three

    ```


    Ascending the passage and mounting four steps, one arrived at the summit of the pyramid, a vast platform. The platform measured a hundred meters in length and eighty meters in width, like a throne bearing the essence of divinity. And atop this flat summit stood the temple that dwelled high in the heavens.


    The temple soared twenty meters high, with the blue temple of the Maya Rain God on the left, dedicated to the deities of rain, agriculture, and storm¡ªTlaloc. On the right was the volcanic red War God Hall, housing the War God, Sun God, and Guardian God Huitzilopochtli. The blue of the temple represented the rainy season and summer solstice, while the red symbolized blood and warfare.


    These were the two most vital deities in the Mexica belief system: Tlaloc granted abundant harvests to the fields and protected against floods from the lakes, while Huitzilopochtli bestowed victory in war and ushered light into the world. Along with the devotion to these two deities, agriculture and warfare were ingrained in the Mexica¡¯s flesh and bones like instincts, guiding the empire¡¯s advance.


    In front of each temple blazed a massive fire basin, with the sacred fire burning ceaselessly year-round. The fire originated from the conclusion of the previous 52-year cycle, during the end-of-the-world sacrificial ceremony in 1455. On the final day of that year, the Chief Priest ascended to the very peak of Mount Estrella, awaiting the appearance of the Pleiades. There, he ignited the sacred fire in the chest of a divine descendant sacrifice, and it was thereafter escorted by the most elite warriors all the way to the Great Temple¡¯s sacred fire for rekindling. This signified that the world would turn once again for another 52 years.


    The empire¡¯s warriors always had an urgent drive deep within their hearts. They had to constantly wage war to please the celestial deities, to avoid the coming of the apocalypse. Thus, warfare became an integral part of the warriors¡¯ lives, as inevitably followed by death.


    The entrance of the temple was guarded by hundreds of Temple Warriors. Amongst the warriors, silent as statues, stood the true sculptures of outstanding warriors of generations past. With resolute postures, they held long banners spanning several meters, each banner adorned with the different forms of the two deities. This represented the nobility¡¯s and warriors¡¯ loyalty and dedication to the deities.


    Xiulote examined the banners carefully, finding them lifelike. Tlaloc bore a mask that covered his eyes, a headdress of egret feathers, the fangs of a Jaguar, one hand holding a golden maize staff or a symbolic lightning rod, the other a jug bestowing rain. His backdrop was a sacrificing Jaguar.


    Huitzilopochtli wore a blue-green hummingbird helmet, with feathers at his head blossoming like the sun, his face striped with yellow and blue. One hand gripped a serpent-like and mirror-like scepter, which also resembled a javelin, and the other held a shield adorned with eagle feathers, ever ready for battle. His background featured sacrificing bipedal sacrifices.


    It was the most distinguished painters, using the most costly pigments, who depicted the Mexica¡¯s divine figures with the greatest reverence and trepidation. As for what the true deities looked like¡ªsuch was ultimately left to immortal beings to decide.


    From the temple to the base, the entire Great Temple was covered with thick black stripes and colorful paintings. The serpentine shape was the most common image, followed by the Rain God¡¯s favored Jaguars and the War God¡¯s beloved eagles. The side oriented toward the Rain God was embellished with simple strokes of maize, beans, pumpkins, and cactuses, while the War God¡¯s side was painted with various captured birds and animal prisoners.


    The Great Temple, like a divine mountain descending from myth, towered at the center of the Lake Capital City. Legend held that the Rain God Tlaloc emerged from the Divine Mountain, while the War God conquered other gods at Snake Mountain. The mountains were the source of the Great Temple¡¯s imagery, and monarchs of generations ceaselessly expanded the mountain¡¯s size.


    Since its initial completion in 1325, the Great Temple had undergone four expansions, each time encasing the previous structure within a larger layer of massive stones. That is to say, within this pair of twin pyramids, there lay four nested temples. Now, a fifth expansion was underway, this time extending the pyramid¡¯s outer walls while keeping the temples unchanged. Each completion of expansion signified a large-scale sacrificial ceremony of unparalleled scale, from the Rain God¡¯s favored animals to the War God¡¯s requisite sacrifices.


    In front of the majestic Great Temple lay a wide canal that branched into several paths, leading to neatly arranged reservoirs. As the setting sun cast its golden light, the apex of the Great Temple transformed into a dazzling vision of heaven, and the temple¡¯s reflection shimmered in the canal like the resplendent realm of mortals!


    An incomparable solemnity and mystique descended upon the worshippers¡¯ hearts. As they faced the setting sun, they humbly prostrated themselves at the feet of the Great Temple, trembling and basking in the glow of the divine. This included even hundreds of family warriors.


    Xiulote looked up at the Great Temple before him, and he longed to recite a couplet.


    Perhaps, "Imperial red clouds cradle the purple sovereign, clear rivers embrace the tranquil and auspicious."


    Or maybe, "Cliffs pierce the cloud-sea, towers reach into the misty skies, unknown which palace it is, gazing eastward it looms lofty and distant." Yet it always felt off.


    After some reflection, Xiulote understood the reason. In Huaxia culture, heavenly divines were not worshipped as supreme beings. And the grandeur that enveloped all so-called temples in this world existed solely for the gods, not for the sentiments of mortals.


    So, the youth bowed his head slightly, towards the divine temple of the deities. His full heart now voiced an ancient praise: S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Great is to be praised in the city of our God, on His holy mountain!"


    From beyond the clouds and mountains. His gaze swept across the ranges.


    Meanwhile, not far away, where the setting sun stained the eastern side of the Great Temple red, in the palace of the Chief Minister, there sat a very aged elder. He surveyed the palace gate with a godlike scrutiny, his gaze sliding over the approaching Royal Banner, devoid of any emotion.


    By his side was the kindly looking Supreme Priest Quetzal, head crowned with the Obsidian Divine Crown, body garbed in the attire of the highest priest, a gentle smile on his face. Behind him stood the round-faced, slightly plump Elder Priest Uguel, hands clasped and reverently in attendance. Following were a dozen silent elder guards. At the forefront, a warrior with a face like a sculpture cradled a small pottery jar in his arms.


    "Esteemed elder, please look," Quetzal bowed his head in respect, pointing towards the center of the procession. There stood a strikingly young and handsome lad, gazing in awe at the temple in the heavens.


    The Chief Priest then smiled faintly, "The King¡¯s death, it shall be the doing of that child!"


    ```

 Chapter 139 - 88 Fate and Poison

    The setting sun cast brilliant rays of light, resembling the majestic gaze of the Heavenly Divine looking down upon the mortal realm, leaving behind its slanted reflection. The tops of Temples and palaces were reflected in the evening glow, shimmering with a brilliance too dazzling for the eye, transforming them into the Throne of the Gods on earth.


    Upon this throne sat an Elder who had ruled over the Empire for fifty years. The glow of twilight blurred his visage, leaving only a pair of eyes that held the world, bore witness to the centuries, somber and unrelenting.


    Upon hearing the words of Chief Priest Quetzal, the Elder slightly lowered his head to gaze down at the youth below, like a leaf. Seeing the young sprout-age of the boy, the Elder heaved a contemplative sigh.


    The sigh of the Rain Divine would turn into an autumn breeze, and where that breeze blew mournfully, leaves would rustle and fall, drifting to the earth.


    "This child is the grandson of little Xutel? Thirteen years old this year?"


    The Elder inquired calmly. The passage of time had aged his voice, though it stripped away only the emotion, not the unwavering firmness it carried.


    "Yes, Elder. Xiulote is one of the many grandsons of the great Xutel. He is considered a branch of the Royal Family, but already four generations removed. It is said, in exchange for Xutel¡¯s support, Aweit has designated him as the heir. As for Asayacatl¡¯s legitimate son, Montezuma II, he is seven years old this year."


    Quetzal continued with a respectful bow and a smile.


    He then pondered for a moment before adding, "The child possesses ancient wisdom. And there are those who openly claim he is the reincarnation of the great Montezuma I."


    As he said this, a warm smile played upon Quetzal¡¯s face. He knew well the origin of these rumors.


    Hearing his late brother¡¯s name, the Elder¡¯s gaze sharpened. He slightly turned his head, glancing at Quetzal. The Chief Priest once again lowered his head calmly.


    The Elder did not inquire further. He quietly watched the crowd beneath his feet, the King and the boy under the Royal Banner, and watched as the last rays of the sun submerged them both. After a moment, he began to speak slowly.


    "Quetzal. Aweit killed Tizoc. Is this correct?"


    Quetzal¡¯s gaze narrowed. He cautiously considered each word of the Elder before finally responding with a lowered head.


    "Prince Aweit has more military capability than King Tizoc did, and his succession is advantageous for the future of the Royal Family. However, the manner in which he killed Tizoc was too brutal, damaging the dignity of the Royal Family. Moreover, this takeover was done without seeking your counsel beforehand. In my humble opinion, even if the succession is right, he should be punished."


    The Elder nodded almost imperceptibly, a gesture keenly perceived by Quetzal, who had accompanied him for many years. The Chief Priest then smiled again slightly.


    "The head of the Nesaval family, Sor is in Atotoztli, with sixteen thousand men now?" the Elder stated more than asked.


    "Yes, Elder, your insight is clear. Commander Sor has cut ties with the Tlaxcalans. He commands eight thousand direct warriors of Texcoco and eight thousand from the eastern City-States. After the siege of Otapan failed, the Tlaxcalans have not escalated their attacks, and now there is just a stalemate on the northeastern frontier."


    Quetzal reported respectfully, and then fell silent.


    The Elder thought again, this time longer than before. The palace was steeped in solemn silence, while Uguel held his breath. Coupled with the Elder¡¯s Guard, silent as statues behind him, the vast palace seemed like a frozen oil painting, brushed in the red hues of the sunset, resembling a muted Divine Realm where the dropping of a pin could be heard.


    "Quetzal, go greet Aweit. Tell him to come see me tomorrow for the succession to the throne."


    The Elder said calmly, determining the future King.


    "Prepare Aweit¡¯s succession ceremony. Recall Sor, strip him of his command, then execute him, displaying his head. His charge is desertion of duty, loss of the supply route, leading to the failure of the siege of Otapan. Once all is done, send this message to Biril of the Nesaval family, and tell me his reaction."


    The Elder declared the fates of many with icy detachment, as if he held the primordial sun that controlled destiny.


    "After the succession ceremony, the children of the Xutel family will be left to your disposal. Little Xutel has followed his brother for many years; remember to make his grandson¡¯s departure free of pain."


    He spoke the cold words, but his eyes held a hint of warmth. It was a memory both tender and distant, reaching back to a time when his elder brother was still in the prime of life, and great Xutel was thirteen as well.


    "I will follow your will," Quetzal said, his face holding a flawless smile as he bowed deeply.


    "You may leave. I am weary," the Elder finally said.


    Under the sunset, he slowly closed his eyes, sinking into distant memories of endless energetic conquests.


    Maintaining his bow, Quetzal silently retreated and left. As he passed the Elder¡¯s Guard at the back of the palace, he smiled again and gave a small bow to the lead warrior. The warrior did not respond; he just stood still, cradling the exquisite urn in his arms, solemnly standing guard over the Elder.


    Quetzal¡¯s gaze lingered on the urn for a moment before he continued on, with a smile. Following him out was Elder Priest Ugus, who also departed without acknowledging the lead warrior and left the palace directly.


    After leaving the palace and walking for a good quarter hour, Ugus finally wiped the sweat from his brow, breathed a long sigh of relief, and relaxed his stout body. As the cool breeze of deep autumn swept by, it chilled his face.


    "Quetzal, bowing to a warrior, you really put our Elder Priests to shame!" Ugus jeered with a grin at Quetzal.


    Quetzal still wore a genial smile on his face, as warm and welcoming as the spring breeze. He glanced at Uguel, regarding him as one might view a rotting piece of wood, then continued on his way, ignoring the mockery.


    Uguel¡¯s face turned a shade of green. He looked around and only saw the Temple Guards stationed in the distance. Only then did he continue to chuckle.


    "The rumors of Montezuma¡¯s reincarnation must have spread from you, right? Tsk tsk, such ruthlessness. To think you¡¯d stoop to such measures even against a thirteen-year-old child!"


    Quetzal stopped in his tracks. With no one around save for his decades-old acquaintance before him, he let the smile on his face fade into a dismissive sneer.


    "Uguel, sometimes I truly wonder why, among the egrets perched atop the Holy Mountain, there seems to be a turkey mixed in¡ªfoolish and noisy!"


    He chuckled softly, then before Uguel could react, he continued in an imposing manner.


    "Please use that decorative head of yours and think carefully!


    The boy is only thirteen and already a Fifth Level Toltec Priest, Aweit¡¯s successor, and heir to the High Priest lineage of the Xutel family!


    Shouldn¡¯t we strangle the eagle while it is yet a chick, rather than wait for it to grow step by step, until a mighty eagle swoops down irresistibly and pecks out your eyes?!"


    Quetzal¡¯s fierce rebuke finally unveiled the Chief Priest¡¯s edge.


    "Having an Elder Priest like you really brings me shame!"


    After returning the original words, Quetzal sighed lightly. He reminisced in his heart.


    "Cotoco, my outstanding nephew, you would not have died¡­ had it not been for him sparing Kuluka¡­ Tizoc, my obedient student, your death too is because of him¡­"


    Uguel¡¯s face flushed with both green and red, but he was so overwhelmed by the Chief Priest¡¯s aura that he could not respond. He lost his voice momentarily before finally replying, "Indeed, we cannot let the High Priest lineage win over us. So, what do you plan to do?"


    "Digitalis purpurea juice, purple in color, just a teaspoonful and the heart throbs violently leading to death within two quarters of an hour. Similarly, the juice of the ipecac plant induces vomiting, heart failure, and death. Black snakeroot causes diarrhea, heart failure, and death. And the deadly red-spotted toadstool, causes the bowels to liquefy and bleed internally, death within half a day.


    If you want it done quicker, the venom of the water moccasin kills in a quarter of an hour, the body blackens with blood, and rots away. The venom of the lancehead viper causes bleeding from all orifices, shock, and death. The adder¡¯s venom turns the skin purple, and one spits blood with every breath until death. There are also the deliciously poisonous eggs of the fish Tuna, which upon consumption cause immediate paralysis, respiratory failure, and convulsions leading to death.


    Heh, no, maybe something slower would be better. The reddish-brown bush fungus is the most suitable, silently and imperceptibly causing the viscera to fail and liquefy, delaying death until several hours later, undetectable by anyone!..."


    Quetzal murmured softly to himself while deliberately letting Uguel hear. As the latter heard about these dreadful poisons, his portly body began to shiver, and his complexion started to pale.


    "Quetzal, you old poisoner! Where did you learn so many ways to bewitch? Are you just trying to scare me?" Uguel raised his voice, shouting with fear.


    "Uguel, you unlearned turkey," Quetzal chuckled softly, mockingly looking at his old acquaintance. "Didn¡¯t you ever thoroughly study our High Priest lineage¡¯s heritage? Poisons can kill, cure, and deceive. These are truly useful things!"


    Uguel forced himself to regain composure, trying to look ferocious as he stared back at Quetzal.


    "You old poisoner! If you dare use these poisons on me or my kin, I will let you know what the revenge of the Great Nobility feels like!"


    Quetzal chuckled again. He took two steps closer, his eyes glittered coldly as he stared down at Uguel, who leaned back slightly, reminiscent of a snake eyeing its prey.


    "Old turkey, you should be grateful you are foolish enough! Please continue to be foolish. Don¡¯t think I am not aware that Ugus went to Aweit and you¡¯re plotting something!"


    At this, a chill ran through Uguel¡¯s heart. He slightly lowered his head, avoiding Quetzal¡¯s gaze, and fell silent. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Only then did Quetzal turn away, the friendly smile returning to his face as he pondered inwardly.


    "What a fool! Without the Elder¡¯s consent, how dare I poison the Royal Family and the Great Nobility at will? But judging by the Elder¡¯s thoughts, there seems to be some nostalgia for the Xutels."


    "Then let¡¯s use the specially prepared Holy Water! Drunk alone, it causes no harm, only a pleasant and soothing feeling throughout the body. But if taken right after the Samurai¡¯s cocoa drink, within two quarters of an hour, it results in a headache and bleeding, and the person faints where they stand. If we get the dosage right, they are left dazed and confused, with unclear mind, paralyzed limbs, and hemiplegia. At least it will spare them their life, a sign for the High Priest to see!"


    The specially prepared Holy Water was, in fact, a potent monoamine oxidase inhibitor, and when combined with the monoamines found in cocoa, it can quickly cause skyrocketing blood pressure, leading to a brain hemorrhage and stroke. This was a secret poison developed by the High Priest lineage specifically targeting the customs of the Samurai and the Nnobility.


    In this era, the High Priests of the Aztec were true masters of potions!


    Thinking about how he would reduce his old adversary Xutel¡¯s prodigy to a simpleton, and imagining Xutel¡¯s reaction to it all, made Quetzal¡¯s smile all the more warm and amiable.


    He chuckled softly and passed by the motionless Uguel, with a benevolent expression, as he walked toward the crowds beneath the palace and the Temple.


    There, a naive young eagle awaited its unknown destiny.

 Chapter 140 - 89: First Meeting, Si Wuxie

    The setting sun was a magnificent spectacle, an aging life, an unknown destiny, and also, soon, a beautiful encounter.


    Xiulote gazed up at the Great Temple. He could not see the statue inside the Temple, nor did he notice the palace behind the Temple, and he could not see the immortal Sun, Trakel Er.


    His mood had calmed down. Years of arduous samurai training and the life-and-death grind of the battlefield had fortified his spirit sufficiently, given him enough self-control, and endowed him with enough courage to face all difficulties and dangers.


    He had no knowledge of the conversation that had just occurred. He merely saw an elderly man with kind and gentle eyes, coming toward him with a smile that felt like a breath of spring.


    The elderly man was in his fifties, wearing a distinguished Obsidian Divine Crown and draped in a beautifully crafted top-tier Ritual Robe, holding a wooden Divine Staff in one hand. He was quite tall, but his voluminous clothing obscured his physique and also hid everything he carried.


    Xiulote noticed Aweit¡¯s eyebrows slightly furrowed, watching the approaching old man with a cold and stern gaze.


    With a smile still on his face, the old man walked briskly to near the Royal Banner. Then, he respectfully bowed deeply to Aweit.


    "Respected and warlike Your Highness, future Divine Descendant King! I, Chief Priest Quetzal, greet you respectfully. In the presence of the Sun God, I offer the eternal loyalty of the High Priesthood of the Great Temple!"


    Saying this, Quetzal did not hesitate to kneel on one knee, removing the Divine Crown from his head to reveal his graying hair. He then bowed deeply, presenting his hair to Aweit.


    This was the ritual of ordinary nobility swearing loyalty to the king! For the Chief Priest of the highest Alliance, this was an absolute grand homage.


    Aweit was slightly moved, but then his gaze turned cold again. He coldly looked at the kneeling High Priest before him, saying nothing.


    The scene fell silent for a moment, and Xiulote silently sized up the old man, who was of similar age and stature to his grandfather, feeling extremely cautious. His grandfather had once told him that in the Capital City, the person he needed to watch out for the most was Quetzal. Between the two great Priesthood factions of the Alliance, there appeared harmony, but undercurrents were rampant. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After a while, Gillim coughed lightly. He stepped forward two steps, emerging from behind Aweit, and solemnly bowed to Quetzal, then performed the same grand homage. Afterwards, he stood up and on behalf of Aweit helped the Chief Priest to his feet.


    Quetzal raised his head, his face bearing the customary kind smile. He then bowed to Gillim, who meticulously returned the gesture. Next, he turned slightly to face Xiulote, quickly sizing him up. Seeing the youth¡¯s valor, his smile became even more kind and touching. Then, the Chief Priest also bowed slightly to Xiulote.


    Xiulote was a bit surprised. Recalling Gillim¡¯s gesture just now, he simply returned the bow.


    It was then that Aweit opened his mouth, uttering crisp, harsh words.


    "Quetzal, what are you here for?"


    "I am here to pass on a message from the immortal elders," Quetzal lightly nodded to Xiulote, then turned to Aweit with a smile. "Congratulations, Your Highness! The elders invite you to meet them early tomorrow morning. Then, proceed quickly with the coronation ceremony! Soon, you will be the seventh ruler of the Lake Capital City, the fifth king of the Alliance!"


    "Cheers to the King!" Gillim also smiled, congratulating Aweit.


    Aweit¡¯s expression finally thawed a bit. Yet, he still remained silent.


    "Respected Your Highness, the palace of the former king has been vacated. May I guide you to take residence there?"


    Quetzal suggested with a genuine and friendly expression on his face.


    Aweit shook his head, then finally spoke: "There is no need to rush. Tonight, I will return to the Montezuma Palace, which my mother inherited. Tomorrow early morning, I will then visit the immortal elders!"


    "As you wish, my King," Quetzal respectfully bowed his head, then quietly added, "Tonight, please allow me to visit and present you with a gift to prove my loyalty."


    Aweit¡¯s gaze narrowed. He neither nodded nor objected, but simply remained silent for a moment before waving goodbye.


    Quetzal bowed again, respectfully watching as Aweit departed. His gaze lingered on Xiulote¡¯s retreating figure, his smile even warmer.


    Xiulote followed Aweit toward the western side of the Temple District, into the palace area of Montezuma Palace. This was the palace where the great Montezuma I had lived, filled with glorious historical memories.


    Looking at the distant palace, Xiulote could not afford to observe the architecture and scale of the palace. His heart suddenly felt chaotic, like the strings of a harp, trembling nonstop. He had just remembered that once at Aweit¡¯s home, he would meet his fianc¨¦e, the twelve-year-old girl, Alisa.


    Although, in this era where the average life expectancy did not exceed the twenties, girls generally matured early. Many commoners married and had children between the ages of twelve and fourteen. But for the Great Nobility, daughters of this age were still like newly emerged lotus tips, cherished flowers kept within the home, not disclosed to outsiders.


    Xiulote knew nothing about Alisa. He had pondered day and night, imagining his future wife. He was prepared to accept everything about her, regardless of beauty, character, or hobbies, fulfilling a husband¡¯s duty.


    Xiulote had once asked his family¡¯s Head Warrior Stanley, but Stanley had only shaken his head silently, merely sighing softly. He was unwilling to tell Xiulote that this foolish hummingbird had struck big luck, managing to land on the most beautiful flower of the Royal Family!

 Chapter 141 - 89: First Meeting, Si Wuxie_2

    Now, as he neared the palace, Xiulote felt an unease in his heart, it throbbed palpably, and even his palms began to sweat slightly. The deep autumn sunset bathed him, making him feel inexplicably warm all over.


    It seemed like only a moment, yet also an eternity had passed. Before the sun had set, Royal Banner arrived at the palace gates. Under Stanley¡¯s command, the family¡¯s samurais skillfully dispersed and took up their positions. The pale blue wooden door gently opened, and Aweit couldn¡¯t contain his excitement, striding forward briskly as if carried by the wind. Servants had been sent ahead to convey the news.


    Xiulote was in a fluster as he changed his clothes. From a distance, he followed nervously, constantly looking around like a petty thief entering a grand hall for the first time.


    "Alisa!" Aweit¡¯s excited shout finally came from up ahead.


    The young man shivered, looking forward with concern, but all he saw was Aweit¡¯s broad back, and a head bowed in an earnest embrace.


    "Daddy!" A crisp and pleasant voice, like the ringing of silver bells, entered Xiulote¡¯s ears and then danced in his heart.


    The young man hurried to walk beside Aweit.


    Aweit held his dearest daughter tightly, yet dared not to exert too much force. He treated her as if she were a delicate flower, fearful of inflicting the slightest harm. His satisfied smile, showing a tenderness never seen before, lit up his face. In his arms, his daughter¡¯s sweet call resonated. Against his chest was her soft cheek pressed. All of this melted the ice in his heart.


    It had been one year and seven months since they were last together. She seemed to have grown taller, now up to his chest. And her facial features, once budding, had blossomed beautifully, like a stunning lotus emerging from the water. She posed not only with her late mother¡¯s soft beauty but, indeed, carried his otherworldly charm as well, resembling the beings from the heavens.


    Ah, in the future, who knows which fool will... At this thought, Aweit abruptly turned his head and glared fiercely at the young man beside him.


    Xiulote, curious, was craning his neck to get a better look at the lovely girl in Aweit¡¯s embrace when suddenly a hand, swift as lightning, grabbed his cheek that had obligingly presented itself, pinching hard.


    In pain, the boy hopped on one foot, but this time, in front of the girl, he simply couldn¡¯t cry out.


    "Daddy?" The voice, like a spring stream, sounded almost divine, soothing Aweit¡¯s unprovoked anger and flowing into the young boy¡¯s heart.


    Aweit stiffened, then released his grasp. Turning to his daughter, he smiled like sunshine. Then, placing an arm over her shoulder, he paused for a few seconds. Finally, with gritted teeth, he stepped aside to reveal the pure girl.


    This was the first time young Xiulote saw Alisa. Their eyes met, standing half a meter apart.


    Such a beautiful girl she was! With eyes like the morning star, curved eyebrows, a delicate nose, petite lips, naturally rosy cheeks, and a pure, gentle smile. That smile, hinting at mischief and cuteness, blossomed on her lively face, and also in the young man¡¯s heart.


    Her features were as if etched with ink, newly finished, like a figure from a painting. At this moment, she was naive and graceful, a future captivator of all creatures.


    The boy held his breath momentarily, unable to resist leaning in closer. The girl before him had soft facial contours, the fine down characteristic of a young girl, and shoulder-length black hair. Dressed in white as pure as snow, she presented a figure of delicate and lithe beauty, as inviting and tender as a cloud in the sky.


    "Ahem." A pair of hands timely intervened, keeping the two apart. Aweit glared at Xiulote. After a moment of thought, he sighed deeply.


    "You two talk for a bit. I have matters to attend to." With that, Aweit turned with difficulty and headed towards the council hall.


    The boy looked at the girl. Gently, warmly, and from the depths of his heart, he allowed a smile to bloom on his face.


    "Um, who are you?... Oh, you smell like the sun," the girl said with widened eyes, curiously staring at the boy before her. Then she leaned in slightly, sniffing at the boy¡¯s neck.


    "I am Xiulote." Observing the lovely cheeks close at hand, and smelling a faint sweet scent, even the battle-hardened boy felt his mouth go dry.


    Upon entering the palace, the boy had changed into a sun-dried robe. His body bore the marks of training under the sun, which were also etched in his heart at this moment.


    "Hmm, that seems like a Heavenly Divine¡¯s name? Well, I am Alisa, a spirit from the clouds." The girl beamed a smile, and like the morning star, her tender amusement twinkled down into the boy¡¯s eyes, outshining all else with laughter.


    "Alisa. How beautiful." The boy murmured to himself. "You are the spirit of flowers, the spirit of butterflies, the spirit of wind, the spirit of clouds. You are also my spirit."


    "So, why are you here?" The girl tiptoed, her bright eyes blinking rapidly, her radiant gaze meeting the boy¡¯s. A breeze swept by, scattering the girl¡¯s long hair, and also the boy¡¯s thoughts.


    The boy felt the burgeoning sprout in his heart, burning within his chest. Starlight had fallen into his soul, nurturing a glistening seed, which felt so tender to the touch.


    "Because, I¡¯m your guardian." The boy instinctively reached out, trying to grasp the spirit before him. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But the girl merely smiled lightly. Twirling around, her hair gently brushed the boy¡¯s cheek, evading his earnest grasp. She inhaled softly, the scent of flowers in the air.


    "But, I already have someone who protects me. I have my father!" The girl grinned mischievously and then lightly stepped back.

 Chapter 142 - 89: First Meeting, Si Wuxie_3

    ""That¡¯s different!" the boy strode forward with nimble steps, hurriedly chasing after the spirit of the clouds and flowers.


    "Hmm, why is it different?" The girl slightly furrowed her brow. She stopped her light-footed pace, tilting her head innocently as she looked at the boy.


    "Because... because... because he can only be with you at the beginning, but I can be with you until the very end." The boy stammered, trying to explain, but at last managed to squeeze out those words. He then stood tall, placing his hand over his heart as if making a vow, his gaze firm as he looked towards the girl.


    "The end?" The girl blinked, somewhat puzzled and lost. "What is the end of the world?"


    "It¡¯s when everyone leaves, heading to the Divine Kingdom." The boy chose his words carefully, afraid of hurting the person in front of him.


    "I don¡¯t want that! I don¡¯t want Father to go to the Divine Kingdom! I want Mother to come back!" The girl pursed her lips, her nose wrinkling in distress, as tears slowly welled up in her eyes.


    Seeing the saddened bloom, the boy¡¯s heart shattered instantly. He reached out, gripping the girl¡¯s hand tightly, wanting to transfer his strength to her. Her palm was so delicate and soft, however, that he dared not squeeze any harder; instead, he layered his other hand atop hers, gently cradling that tenderness.


    "Don¡¯t cry. That¡¯s a long, long way off. And you have me." The boy leaned in closer to the girl, trying to kiss away the tears in her eyes.


    But the girl turned aside to dodge him. She wiped away her tears with the back of her slender hand and then looked at the boy earnestly.


    "I will go to the Divine Kingdom. Will you go to the Divine Kingdom too?"


    The boy was momentarily stunned, then he nodded earnestly. "I will go. I will be with you, all the way to the very end!" He vowed silently, "If there is a Divine Kingdom, I will surely go there as well."


    Only then did the girl reveal a toothy smile. Her eyes curved beautifully, like the crescent moon, which also fell into the boy¡¯s heart.


    Soon, she crinkled her adorable nose again and shook her head. "Hmm, you¡¯re scaring people, a bad brother!"


    "Well, let me sing instead!" The girl exerted a little force, and her small, smooth hand slipped out from the boy¡¯s, then, like a butterfly in the wind, suddenly fluttered away.


    "I want to be a flower, capturing the beauty of starlight, imparting the scent to butterflies.


    I want to be a butterfly, entwined with the gentle fragrance, leaving my dance in the breeze.


    I want to be a gust of wind, blowing on the butterfly¡¯s wings, painting patterns on the clouds.


    I want to be a cloud, wrapping the tender breeze, covering the eyes of the stars.


    I want to be a star, lying among the clouds, gently illuminating the flowers.


    Once again, I become a flower... la la la la la~~~


    "


    The girl¡¯s song was like a lark at the edge of the sky, gentle and melodious, and like a mountain spring, tinkling clearly. Then, she spread her arms, imitating a butterfly¡¯s wings, dancing freely like the breeze, with the softness of clouds. At last, she turned around, pulling back her long hair over her shoulder, revealing a face of innocence, giving the boy a pure smile.


    The bright moon rose in the East, while the sunset fell in the West. With the moonrise and sunset, the stars opened their eyes, twinkling towards the blossom, also lighting upon the figure among the flowers.


    That was Alisa, with a flower¡¯s beauty, a bird¡¯s song, a spirit¡¯s dance, and the kindness and softness of a cloud.


    Xiulote watched quietly the girl among the flowers, the crescent moon, stars, flower, butterfly, breeze, and cloud all settled in his heart, imprinted with his essence, breathing together, from now on inseparable. As he listened to her song like spring water, it washed away all the dust in his heart.


    At this moment, there was only Si Wuxie.


    "You once said to me,


    meeting is a song,


    eyes are the sea of spring,


    youth is a river green..."


    The boy sang softly, smiling, warming, tenderly looking at this lifetime¡¯s girl.


    "Meeting is a song,


    lives intertwine like a river.


    When you flow through my heart,


    suddenly it¡¯s full of blooming beauty...


    How many wishes do we hold in life?


    How much hesitance does the future hold?


    Looking back, you¡¯re by my side.


    The world¡¯s splendor traded for a traveler¡¯s smile,


    eyes filled with spring recall the ancient vast changes.


    In the wilderness of the soul,


    when will a shooting star burst forth?


    That which has passed will never return to me,


    will the present you stay with me till old age?


    Your strand of black hair,


    has tied the lonely me.


    Thus, I smile,


    no longer adrift from now on...


    " S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The night moon and the river of stars, the flower and the cloud. Amid intertwining songs, within passionate souls, this was their first encounter. Si Wuxie.

 Chapter 143 - 90: Admonitions and Holy Water

    The wind and moon were but temporary havens, for the life of a Samurai was always one of clashing iron and combat, and as a ruler, one must also encompass strategies and reforms.


    Xiulote quietly accompanied Alisa for two hours, relishing the inner peace and joy. Then, an Envoy hurried in, requesting his presence at an important meeting. He waved goodbye to the princess and made his way to the solemn great hall. This time, with a resolute face and steady steps, he was able to observe the characteristics of Montezuma Palace.


    Montezuma Palace was not vast in size, and its furnishings were quite rustic and grand. Along the way, the palace buildings were decorated with black stripes, red roofs, and heavy stoneware, reminiscent of the Qin and Han dynasties. From this, one could also discern the personal characteristics of Montezuma I.


    Upon reaching the great hall, the generals were seated around a blazing fire pit, with open air vents around. Due to the lack of fats, candles could not be widely used. The bonfire thus cast numerous shadows, solidifying the solemn expressions of the Samurais.


    Seeing Xiulote arriving, the generals smiled knowingly. King Aweit, who presided over the meeting, beckoned Xiulote to sit on his right. Xiulote performed a solemn ritual and formally took his seat as the secondary chair. This gathering of young men and women inadvertently confirmed Xiulote¡¯s identity, and from then on, he was officially the heir to Aweit¡¯s military and political conglomerate.


    Xiulote saw Acap again. He had set out from Teotihuacan, actually arriving two days early, waiting in the capital. Acap first smiled at Xiulote, then solemnly saluted King Aweit and reported back.


    "The High Priest has already dispatched an Envoy to the Elder. Should the situation change, he himself will leave the capital at any time to come here. The legions of Teotihuacan will do the same. The High Priest assesses that this coronation will not encounter major problems. The Chief Priest will also actively seek reconciliation with the king," Acap said.


    King Aweit nodded, and today¡¯s performance by Quetzal proved this point.


    Gillim then performed a ritual before speaking, "Since the Elder has intervened in politics again, it is now inappropriate to act against Quetzal. Given the current health of the Elder, this political interference will not last long and there is still much time ahead. Our first priority should be to dispatch Envoys, requiring city-states and forces to send representatives to offer tributes and participate in the coronation."


    Next, Gillim discussed the specific list of city-states and tributes with King Aweit. Acap tugged at Xiulote, who then leaned in to hear his grandfather¡¯s private message.


    "Xiulote, the High Priest isn¡¯t worried about King Aweit, but he¡¯s very concerned about you," Acap expressed with a grave look.


    Xiulote listened intently.


    "The following words, the High Priest told me to tell only you. He said the Elder¡¯s thoughts are always unpredictable, but his will rarely changes and his emotions are nearly nonexistent. The only certainty is that his decisions will be made with the best interests of the Alliance in mind, favoring the lineage of Tenochtitlan. What could influence him is also only the overall situation of the Alliance, his lifetime¡¯s work!"


    As Acap said this, he looked around, evidently uneasy about what he was about to say next.


    "In the eyes of the Elder, the gods are the supreme instruments!"


    After uttering this blasphemous statement, Acap silently prayed for the gods¡¯ forgiveness, surprised to find that Xiulote¡¯s expression remained unchanged.


    "The person you need to guard against most in the capital is Chief Priest Quetzal. The High Priest knows Quetzal very well, he¡¯s a master of Alchemy and was a distinguished Samurai in his youth. He once assassinated an elder of a rival city-state with a dagger coated with snake poison. His often-carried Divine Staff can actually be disassembled, encased in copper blocks for striking, and inside it is a hollow weapon used by southern jungle tribes, capable of blowing Wooden Spikes coated with lethal Frog Poison. Therefore, whenever you are near Quetzal, you must wear Leather Armor."


    The Divine Staff of the Chief Priest was actually a blowgun? Xiulote had not realized this.


    "However, except for once when he was young, Chief Priest Quetzal rarely takes action himself afterward. The High Priest said, absolutely do not drink cocoa in the capital, and definitely do not eat anything touched by the Chief Priest. Although he does not know the principle, many enemies of the Great Temple have died suddenly after drinking cocoa, even though others dining with them showed no signs of poisoning," Acap revealed.


    Xiulote was startled by the realization that the capital was not as calm and beautiful as it appeared on the surface.


    "Finally, the High Priest has already sent another Envoy to the Elder and delivered a personal message. Considering the past relationship, the Elder should agree to meet with you alone," Acap finished.


    At this point, Acap solemnly sat up straight, mimicking the tone of the High Priest.


    "Xiulote, I know you have many extraordinary ideas and insights. When facing the Elder, you need not hesitate to speak your mind. Especially your proposals for the Alliance, if the Elder approves and adopts them, he will immediately begin planning and executing them! This is an opportunity!" sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote nodded and bowed in thanks to Acap before falling into thought.


    The meeting that followed was quite uneventful. Aweit assigned different tasks to the generals, organizing them to defend various sectors and preparing them to take over the four major armories of the capital city. He also met with the military representatives from the four areas of the capital. He planned to gradually take over the management rights of each community, controlling the grassroots tax collection and military mobilization. As for the fiefs and private armies of the Great Nobility, he could only temporarily focus on winning them over, recognizing their autonomy.


    To use a phrase from the Warring States period in Japan, it was "guaranteed domain security."


    As the night deepened and the prominent figures of the capital dispersed, the generals also took their leave one by one. Only Aweit, Xiulote, Gillim, and Acap remained in the great hall. Everyone chatted idly while waiting for the Chief Priest to arrive.


    Another quarter of an hour passed before Chief Priest Quetzal finally arrived, taking his time.


    This evening, Quetzal wore a simple priest¡¯s robe, still holding that slender Divine Staff, which Xiulote now knew was a versatile weapon. Following him was a young-looking woman in black, carrying a small clay pot in her arms. Another ascetic priest followed, slightly bent over with a rather large wooden basket on his back, which seemed quite heavy.


    Priests were a special profession. They would cut their skin and cheeks, offering their own blood to the deities, and even perform a certain degree of self-mutilation. These priests had an extremely high tolerance for pain, lived simply, and were often skilled in martial arts. They regularly visited various villages and even cities to hold sacrificial rites, greatly revered by the rural and city-state citizens, constituting an important influence of the Great Temple on non-directly controlled territories.


    Quetzal entered with a gentle, warm smile, performing the highest custom of prostration immediately after entering, apologizing for his lateness and asking the king for forgiveness. With no onlookers this time, his gesture was one of the utmost reverence. The woman and the priest behind him also prostrated themselves.


    Aweit gestured slightly, and Gillim immediately approached, returning the greeting and then helping Quetzal up. One of them always smiling, the other uttering solemn throughout, but to Xiulote, it appeared strangely harmonious.


    Quetzal, smiling, looked around at everyone, nodding and bowing without any sense of authority, which made him remarkably approachable. He then instructed the woman beside him, taking the clay pot she was holding. The woman then raised her head, revealing a face that was charming and pitiful.


    Quetzal continuously observed Aweit¡¯s expressions, and seeing a flicker of change in his eyes, he smiled slightly to himself. Then, he stepped forward, took out an exquisite stone bottle from the clay pot, and presented it to Aweit.


    "Respected Your Highness, this is Holy Water that Elder Uguel and I have brewed for you. It serves as a medium of communication between deities and humans, a joy bestowed by the gods. Just a small cup will liberate the mind from worries, as if soaring in the clouds! Please accept this token of appreciation. I invite everyone to taste!"


    Quetzal¡¯s face was filled with a sincere smile. He took out a small clay cup, then poured himself a drink and gulped it down. Within seconds, his eyes sparkled, and his face beamed with joy. Then he took out four more cups, intending to personally pour for the others present.


    Aweit glanced at Gillim, who promptly understood, took the Holy Water from Quetzal¡¯s hands, and repeatedly thanked him. Then, linking arms with Quetzal, he invited him to sit near Aweit; the two accompanying individuals followed behind. He then naturally ordered the guards to bring over drinks, food, and new clay cups. The atmosphere warmed up considerably for a moment.


    Xiulote pondered slightly¡ªQuetzal mentioned Uguel? He exchanged a glance with Acap, who also nodded in confirmation. They both understood: it seemed the plan to replace the Chief Priest with Uguel had already been seen through, making it difficult to proceed. Uguel himself might have been secured by the Chief Priest. Both sighed inwardly.


    The new clay cup filled with Holy Water was quickly served. Gillim ceremonially bowed before drinking on behalf of Aweit. Within moments, the usually meticulous Intelligence Officer also wore a flying smile, overflowing with joy. He then stood still for a few seconds, using his strong self-control to regain his composure, before looking at the cup in his hand with trepidation.


    Aweit naturally did not drink the Holy Water, merely smiling as he greeted the Chief Priest. Having just heard his grandfather¡¯s warnings, although curious, Xiulote did not dare to drink and used his age and health as an excuse, "not coveting the fleeting joy of the deities."


    Quetzal sighed quietly in his heart. He was just about to test Xiulote¡¯s resistance to the Holy Water to decide the dosage of poison needed for future plans that aimed to leave a person near death rather than dead. However, there would be more opportunities later. With these thoughts coursing through his mind, his smile grew even more cordial.


    It was then Acap¡¯s turn. He drank in one gulp and within a few breaths, could not suppress his joyous expression, his face flushed and nearly ecstatic. He transformed from a graceful gentleman into a carefree, wild young man, even softly singing a prayerful tune.


    Xiolote became wary, placing the Holy Water on the list of substances to avoid. Such a reaction, apart from Acap¡¯s initial low resistance, surely indicated the presence of unknown central nervous system stimulants in the Holy Water. Accompanying the high excitement was definitely an addictive quality, either strong or weak.


    The woman in black secretly watched Acap, her gaze lingering on his gentle features. Listening to the beautiful man¡¯s melodious singing, she momentarily forgot about the gathering in the great hall until a prepared remark, like a thunderclap, burst into her heart.


    "...This is my legitimate granddaughter Kapana, who is eighteen years old this year, not yet betrothed, and is still studying at Calmecac. She has always admired Your Highness¡¯s majestic demeanor and broad knowledge...I brazenly inquire here, hoping Your Highness might take her under your wing and teach her,"


    Quetzal, with a graceful smile, made such a statement sound not the least bit presumptuous or impertinent, but rather entirely appropriate and naturally conforming to etiquette.

 Chapter 144 - 91 Reconciliation and Transformation

    Clouds cloaked the moon, leaving only the shifting constellations. On the starry night, a breeze stirred, flickering the bonfire in the fire pit, casting alternating patterns of light and dark across the faces and hearts of those gathered. Desire undulated within this interplay, one moment shining with the brightness of ideals, the next revealing the seductive glimmer of temptation.


    Aweit¡¯s gaze rested on the figure of Kapana, clad in black. The firelight highlighted her graceful purity and the black garment accentuated her enchanting figure. A fleeting flutter touched Aweit¡¯s heart, seeing in the fireside Kapana a resemblance to his late wife.


    Two years ago, his principal wife had passed away shortly after giving birth to Chimalpahin due to unstoppable hemorrhaging, leaving for the Divine Kingdom to his great regret. Alisa had wept herself into a figure of tears, and in the depths of the night, so had he.


    She had been a tender and beautiful woman, dressed in the mature elegance of black, as if peacefully asleep. He had personally buried her by the Ahuehuete tree on the shores of Lake Texcoco, and on its trunk, he had engraved his own symbol. He had left the warmth of his heart in that symbol, giving the place beside his pillow to his memories, then plunging into the bitter and prolonged war. In the blink of an eye, two years had passed.


    Gillim, in silent reverence, bowed his head to show his stance. Aweit pondered in his heart.


    He clearly understood the meaning behind Quetzal¡¯s word "absorb." It was an offer of total allegiance, presenting a noble granddaughter for marriage without the stipulation of her becoming the principal wife. In doing so, the line of the Chief Priest and the line of the King would once again be deeply united, indistinguishable, hastening the integration of the Capital¡¯s political power. For now, it seemed, Uguel was not a hopeful, Quetzal¡¯s position remained solid; this appeared to be a win-win choice.


    Aweit¡¯s eyes flickered. He looked around at everyone, Quetzal smiling like the spring breeze, Gillim solemnly saluting, Kapana trembling slightly, Acap softly chanting. Lastly, there was Xiulote in white. His face showed concern, as if remembering someone.


    A shift of thought, and the image of his daughter dressed in wintry white gentleness softened Aweit¡¯s heart. Sighing gently, only light remained on his face. He looked around once more, his mind made up, and he made his decision.


    "Honorable Chief Priest, thank you for your deep affection," Aweit said with a smile. This was his first greeting to Quetzal that evening.


    Quetzal¡¯s smile faltered, sensing something amiss.


    "I am of samurai birth, not deeply learned in priestly knowledge. Yet this Priest Acap by my side is from the Holy City of Teotihuacan, well-versed in scholarship, with both good character and appearance, and also unattached.


    As my trusted general, I take the liberty to propose on his behalf: Might the egret of Teotihuacan be so fortunate as to meet with the swallow of Tenochtitlan?"


    With that, Aweit first pointed in Acap¡¯s direction, then nodded his head slightly in salute, his demeanor both formal and solemn.


    Quetzal paused a moment in deep thought. A priest from Teotihuacan? He shook his head inwardly, not hesitating, yet it was inappropriate to reject the offer outright. As thoughts whirled through his mind, he smiled once more and returned the nod.


    "Your Highness has made a fine proposal. However, my granddaughter has always admired only you. Allow me to consult her own wishes," Quetzal said, then turned his head. He looked at Kapana, who seemed to be daydreaming, his gaze serious.


    "Kapana, is what your grandfather says correct?" the Chief Priest asked slowly, emphasizing the latter half of his question.


    "Ah!" Kapana snapped back to her senses. She boldly and quickly glanced at Acap¡¯s ethereally handsome face, her heart inexplicably racing, her cheeks turning a slight red.


    "Yes, I am willing!" Kapana nodded firmly, her smile radiant.


    "You..." Quetzal was taken aback, a rare loss of composure.


    He opened his mouth, looking at his beloved granddaughter, at a loss for words, his copper-plated Divine Staff instinctively raising.


    "Wonderful! The cardinals meeting under the Goddess of Spring¡¯s blessing, their voices mingling in mutual delight¡ªtruly a joyous event!" Without waiting for Quetzal¡¯s response, Aweit laughed, concluding the matter. He stood up, taking hold of Quetzal¡¯s hand and his Divine Staff.


    "Thank you for your deep affection, Chief Priest! Acap, will you not bow in thanks?"


    Acap looked bewildered, his fate decided so suddenly? He instinctively followed orders and bowed.


    Then, Aweit turned his attention to Gillim.


    Gillim too nodded and saluted. First to express affirmation, second to take on the duty of facilitation. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The union of Acap and Kapana would greatly benefit the King¡¯s endeavor. This would not only soothe relations with the Chief Priest but also avoid too close a connection, making certain future actions more convenient.


    Furthermore, since the King held Acap in high regard, it would be well-timed to draw him into the central fold. It was also time to reduce the influence of the Teotihuacan line, to prevent any one faction from becoming too powerful. Lastly, when the time was ripe, they could elevate Acap, using Kapana¡¯s status, to replace Quetzal¡¯s position.


    Gillim swiftly computed in his mind, weighing the benefits, though none of it showed on his face. He rose from his seat, pulling the still-distracted Acap to his feet with one hand and taking hold of the beaming Kapana with the other.


    Kapana felt a chill in her hand, a cold, hard sensation, like the metal of the Tarasco people from the west.


    Then her hand was placed in a warm, large one. She looked up at its owner, at his jade-like countenance, his uninhibited spirit, and smiling, she clasped his hand tightly in her own.


    Gillim nodded internally, then saluted again, proposing to those in the hall, "Respected King, noble Chief Priest. As we are here discussing worldly matters, why not allow the two young priests to retire to the side chamber to discuss the knowledge of the deities?"


    With that, Gillim subtly gestured to his chest with a finger.

 Chapter 145 - 91 Reconciliation and Transformation_2

    Seeing Gillim¡¯s gesture, Aweit hesitated slightly before also nodding with a smile, "This matter is excellent! What does the Chief Priest think?"


    Quetzal suppressed his emotions, barely managing a smile, "That¡¯s fine. Let the two communicate with each other first and see if they are compatible."


    In his heart, however, he had already decided that once he returned, he would severely chastise Kapana. It seemed that he had been too soft-hearted with his granddaughter. An issue as critical as marriage was not up to her whims!


    Gillim then had the servants lead the two to the most secluded and beautiful side palace. Located in the deepest part of the palace¡¯s sea of flowers, it brimmed with boundless tropical blooms. It was also quiet and secluded, undisturbed by others.


    Afterward, in the moment his trustworthy servant bowed, Gillim silently took out a potion from his robe. He then supported the servant, secretly passing the potion into the other¡¯s hands. As their gazes met, the servant nodded slightly, smiling respectfully before following Kapana and Acap away.


    "The fields are full of green weeds, the dew is dense and clear. There¡¯s a beauty, graceful and pure. A chance encounter meets my desires."


    At this time, Aztec society was also in the late stages of the tribal era, akin to the romantic era of the Spring and Autumn period in ancient Huaxia. The concept of a unified empire was just beginning to emerge; the legal system had not been established, customs were simple, and the past was not far gone. Women had the right to inherit wealth and status, and attitudes toward marriage were more bold and free.


    Once Gillim returned to the hall and gracefully took his seat, Quetzal had already regained his amiable smile. He instructed the ascetic Priest behind him to set down the wooden basket and lift the lid. Dozens of wooden boards covered in patterns were revealed to everyone. The Chief Priest picked one and cautiously presented it to Aweit.


    Xiulote also leaned in to take a closer look. At the top of the board was an emblem, similar to that of a Commander¡¯s board, representing different City-States. On the left side of the board was a simple illustration of a Samurai, indicating the military strength of the City-State. To the left of the Samurai was a rectangular block with vertical bars inside, indicating specific squads of Samurais.


    On the right side of the board was a simple grain pattern, indicating the City-State¡¯s food reserves. At the bottom, there were emblems of the Great Nobility, numerous small Nobility feathers, and simple symbols for villages.


    "Could this be...?" Aweit finally showed real emotion, guessing.


    "Indeed, as Your Highness has surmised! This is detailed intelligence on the various Mexica City-States, as well as military information about the surrounding tributary City-States." Quetzal smiled warmly, his smile full of absolute confidence.


    "This is the most accurate intelligence gathered by ascetic Priests who ventured deep into the nations, including the specific military strength of the Samurais and their affiliations with different families. It contains Great Nobility that lean towards the Great Temple, small Nobility with spiritual aspirations, and villages influenced by our Priests! With these maps and the support of the Great Temple, Your Highness can truly strengthen hold over the Alliance!" sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This was an offer that couldn¡¯t be refused. In any era, priests, clerics, and monks are the best spies and suitable envoys.


    They could move freely, trusted by ordinary civilians and Samurais and had enough status to interact with various levels of Nobility. They were also protected by the power of faith, making them the perfect intelligence agents. For thousands of years, countless wars had been waged in the name of religion, and the infiltration of intelligence networks was no different.


    In Mexica society, the ascetic Priests, with their elevated status, could represent the Great Temple, secretly align with various Nobility and Samurais, and be ready to sacrifice at any moment for their faith. They were an important force for the Great Temple to control City-States not directly under its command and a key to maintaining the Alliance.


    After contemplating for a moment, Aweit revealed a smile and warmly took Quetzal¡¯s hand. He then ordered the servants to bring out the finest Tequila, toasting to the Chief Priest. Quetzal also returned the gesture with a warm smile, and the two drank together, thus reconciling!


    The milk-like top-quality Tequila shimmered under the bright firelight, casting a dreamy glow. But its light couldn¡¯t penetrate the barriers, unable to illuminate the darkness within, just as one couldn¡¯t see the shifting of the heart.


    Xiulote, witnessing the two men¡¯s act, seemed enlightened. To be a true ruler, does one necessarily have to act this way? He watched as they chatted enthusiastically about the recently ended war, as if Tizoc¡¯s death was merely a trivial detail. During this time, Gillim told several serious jokes which provoked hearty laughter from everyone, and Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but laugh as well.


    For a time, the great hall was filled with joy, and the King and the Chief Priest formally reconciled, joining forces for the future of their nation. It seemed everyone had already forgotten the two young men and women who had departed.


    Quetzal nodded in satisfaction. Despite some minor surprises, the purpose of his visit was fairly successful. Next, he would continue to push the alliance with the King¡¯s forces, and once he removed the interference from the Teotihuacan lineage, the Chief Priest lineage would still firmly stand at the pinnacle of power! When the elder retired and returned political power, even if Aweit wanted to make a move, he would harm his own kin.


    "It seems the King still cherishes the memory of his late wife. This could be exploited¡ªa similar style of dress and demeanor, a similar appearance and gesture, Kapana could be further trained... If this doesn¡¯t go well, Prince Biril of Texcoco is still unmarried, as are the elite Nobility of the Capital City..."


    As Quetzal schemed in his heart and listened to Gillim¡¯s serious jokes, he suddenly sensed something was amiss: Was this a delay tactic? No, my granddaughter!

 Chapter 146 - 91 Reconciliation and Transformation_3

    Quetzal¡¯s complexion dramatically changed, and he was about to rise immediately. Gillim steadied Quetzal and asked with solemn curiosity, "Noble Chief Priest, was my joke not funny?"


    A flash of anger crossed Quetzal¡¯s face as he smiled through gritted teeth, "Funny, funny, extremely funny indeed!"


    He covered his left chest with his right hand, seemingly angry and distressed, yet he had already grasped the hidden dagger. Although it had been a long time since he last used it, he had still poisoned it before leaving this time.


    Behind him, the ascetic priest also reached into his bosom, ready for an imminent confrontation.


    "Now that we are one family, pleasing you is my duty. I have heard that ascetic priests have a tradition of cutting themselves and sacrificing their blood. I wonder if I could be instructed by you."


    Gillim took out the Obsidian Dagger from his chest, his wrist as quick as lightning, swiftly making several cuts over his chest, displaying extraordinary martial arts. His technique was exceptionally precise; these wounds were merely frightening to look at but would leave no aftereffects.


    His expression unchanged, he let the blood flow, slightly tilting his wrist, now pointing the dagger towards Quetzal.


    "Noble Chief Priest, are you satisfied? Was my sacrificial act standard?" Gillim bowed slightly, his posture like a spring-loaded mountain cat, his eyes clear and bright.


    Aweit had quietly stepped back two paces. Xiulote, armed with a short blade, stood beside him. Soon, guards also arrived, carrying the Yellow Gemstone Divine Staff.


    Only then did Aweit chide with a smile, "Gillim, how could you discuss sacrificial knowledge in front of the Chief Priest? Apologize and step back now!"


    Upon hearing this, Gillim quickly withdrew his dagger. Then he solemnly prostrated himself and apologized to Quetzal.


    Afterward, Aweit took the Divine Staff of Tizoc from the guard¡¯s hand, smiling at Quetzal.


    "Chief Priest, this is the Divine Staff of the Great Temple. I return it to you here, and then I will wait for you to be bestowed by the Heavenly Divine at the coronation ceremony!" S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seeing the familiar Divine Staff, Quetzal¡¯s eyes shifted. Finally, he burst into a smile, blooming like a spring breeze.


    He took a deep breath, "Thank you, Your Highness. I am indeed old; my chest hurt terribly just now. Lord Gillim¡¯s sacrifice was very standard, feel free to visit the Great Temple sometime. I would warmly welcome you and teach more advanced sacrifices."


    More advanced sacrifices? That would be a human sacrifice next. Xiulote was already able to understand everyone¡¯s conversation, but was not quite sure why things had progressed to this stage.


    A servant hurried over, nodding slightly. Gillim then stood up from the ground, and Quetzal paused again. Soon, the banquet resumed its normal course. Everyone was laughing and joking as if nothing had happened.


    After another half an hour, Kapana returned, arm in arm with Acap. Her eyes swirling, she radiated a bright charm and a joy that seemed to come from within. Seeing her grandfather, she slightly ducked her head, hiding herself in Acap¡¯s embrace.


    Acap looked tenderly at Kapana. Since drinking the Holy Water, he had been feeling an inexplicable joy and bliss. After having drinks with her earlier, this joy and bliss had become even more uncontrollable, everything falling into place naturally. Was this lively, beautiful girl now to be his wife?


    Seeing Quetzal, he respectfully nodded, then drew Kapana closer.


    Xiulote watched the change in the two and then understood everything. Then he turned to Gillim, surprisingly at a loss for words.


    Quetzal¡¯s face still held a spring-like smile. He looked at Acap, genuinely praising to everyone around.


    "My eyes deceived me earlier. Only now do I realize, the priest Acap whom His Highness values is indeed as handsome as a jade, dignified and handsome, truly a perfect match for Kapana!"


    "Before His Highness¡¯s coronation, let¡¯s have their wedding in the next two days! From then on, the Great Temple will be His Highness¡¯s most loyal servant. I will also send an envoy to the High Priest of Teotihuacan to brazenly request to keep a talented priest like Acap in the Great Temple."


    Soon, Quetzal formally bowed to take his leave from Aweit. Gillim again bowed solemnly to Quetzal, and Quetzal also smiled back in response.


    He then took the Yellow Gemstone Divine Staff, deeply gazed at Xiulote, and finally, his gaze lingered on Kapana and Acap.


    "Kapana, let¡¯s go," the Chief Priest said with a smile, nodding to Acap, then gesturing for his granddaughter to come over.


    Kapana, reluctantly glancing at Acap, obediently followed Quetzal.


    "Grandfather still loves me so much! He¡¯s getting old, and once I¡¯m married, I should visit him often," Kapana thought happily.


    Aweit laughed and patted Acap¡¯s shoulder, as did Xiulote. Gillim bowed deeply, apologizing. Acap responded with a perplexed smile.


    The next morning, as dawn broke on the horizon, Xiulote arose. He dressed in the distinctive attire of Teotihuacan, arranged all the gifts, and then waited quietly.


    Today was the day to meet the elder.

 Chapter 147 - 92: An Audience with the Unknown

    In the morning sunlight, Lake Texcoco shimmered with bright light. And within that brightness was the reflection of countless flowers. This was the Great Botanical Garden of Tenochtitlan, a symbol of the royal family and nobility.


    Under the sunlight and the unnamed shadows, amid the sea of flowers and trees, a beautiful Chinese lantern plant was blooming. Intertwined among the branches were dark gold edges, and the red flowers hung like lanterns, emitting a pleasant honey fragrance.


    A young blue-green hummingbird, attracted by the sweet scent, danced swiftly among the flowers, stirring up the sound of flapping wings, like dazzling lightning. Then, it abruptly stopped and hovered in front of a flower, stretching out its slim pointed beak and joyfully sipping the sweet nectar.


    However, just as the hummingbird ceased its flight and drank to its heart¡¯s content, the gold edges on the branches suddenly sprang to life, turning into a stream of golden light. The light passed by the flower in the blink of an eye, and the hummingbird disappeared, leaving only a golden javelin snake behind.


    The javelin snake closed its bright red mouth as a bulge slowly slid down from its throat to its belly. Then its forked tongue slithered out, licking its mouth, satisfactorily exhaling the air from its stomach. Being full made it feel lazily comfortable. At that moment, a piercing sound of wind came from the sky, and the shadow above rapidly expanded until it engulfed the snake. It lifted its head in shock, ready to strike with its venomous red beak.


    An old eagle swooped down from the heavens, pouncing with lightning speed, and pecked at the weak spot of the javelin snake. Its red beak then trembled, limply drooping along with its tongue. Next, the eagle, with the golden snake in its beak, soared away, leaving no trace behind. Only the lantern flowers quivered slightly in the wind.


    Murder was concealed within the beauty of the capital city, but who really knew their own identities?


    When the sun slanted in the East, two thousand family samurai gathered outside Montezuma Palace. Then, Aweit bid farewell to his daughter, taking the reluctant Xiulote with him. Accompanied by the family samurai, they headed for the Chief Minister¡¯s palace.


    The Chief Minister¡¯s palace was not far to the east of the Great Temple. Although the palace was not large in scale, it was exceedingly tall, nearly equal in height to the Great Temple. There was a dedicated passage between the temple and the palace for easy communication between the two.


    In fact, during the decades of governance by the elders, the Chief Minister¡¯s palace was the true center of imperial politics. Envoys would traverse this passage to the Great Temple to convey orders to the priests at all levels. Similarly, the temple¡¯s warrior guard also followed the elders¡¯ commands.


    Upon reaching the base of the Chief Palace, Xiulote immediately saw hundreds of elite warriors. These warriors wielded sharp and sturdy bronze weapons, wore leather armor, and donned masked Beast Helmets, standing motionless in the sunlight. They were the elder¡¯s guard, equivalent to the existence of the Royal Guard.


    The family samurai stopped here. Aweit and Xiulote, with their important entourage, continued upwards. Climbing dozens of meters up the stone steps of the palace, they reached another highly secure hall. The envoy then proceeded to announce that the elder had summoned only Aweit and Xiulote. Intelligence Officer Gillim, trusted aide Stanley, and Head Warrior Bertade also had to stay back at this point.


    The two left their weapons behind, removed their Leather Armor, and, dressed in noble attire, entered the corridor beyond the hall, followed by the elder¡¯s guard carrying gifts. On both sides of the corridor were huge murals depicting majestic deities, magnificent temples, tall kings, and simply drawn warriors, with various vanquished enemies at the bottom.


    Xiulote observed the murals, which were all chapters of the Guardian God Huitzilopochtli. From His defeat of the gods on Snake Mountain to become War God to His ascent to the sky to replace the Sun God, then descending to the mortal realm to promise the Mexica forefathers the mantle of world leadership, to commanding the Toltecs and Tepanecs to submit, ending with the king¡¯s grandiose sacrificial conquest of the south. Further on, vast blank spaces awaited to be filled.


    Xiulote nodded; these murals were like a thesis, discussing how the gods were created by people. It was the history of the Mexica¡¯s development, and also the most immortal achievement in the elder¡¯s life.


    Then, at the end of the corridor, on one side was the flat top of the Great Temple facing west, opposite the red Temple of the Guardian God. And on the other side, level with the Temple, sat an elder who transcended centuries, seated quietly on the divine stone throne, casting his gaze upon the crowd stepping inside.


    Xiulote swiftly took in the elder on the throne, who was extraordinarily old, reminiscent of an ancient Divine Tree. His face was calm, indifferent like the lightless depths of the ocean. His body was upright, exuding the presence of towering mountains. The weight of his gaze carried a heavy pressure, cold and devoid of any emotion. In his hands, he held a small bronze bell.


    Behind the elder, stood a smiling Quetzal, and a chubby Uguel. Further back were the elder¡¯s guards, led by the sculpted warrior and his ceramic jar.


    Upon seeing the elder, Aweit¡¯s expression turned solemn, and with Xiulote, he knelt respectfully to offer salutations.


    "Great Xiwakowatle, the immortal sun of the Mexica, the supreme elder! Your most outstanding descendant, Aweit, offers the sincerest respect and blessing to you! May the Guardian God accompany us, and the sun never set!"


    The elder nodded and waved his hand. The two then stood up and presented their gifts.


    "May flowers always accompany you, elder immortal!"


    Aweit first offered fresh flowers, which he had picked early from the Royal Botanical Garden.


    The elder¡¯s gaze remained calm.


    "This is the flag of an Otomi legion Commander, a trophy from the war."


    Then, Aweit presented a three-meter-long Commander flag. Apart from the Xilotepec Ritual Plate, this was the highest grade war trophy of the entire Otomi war. In Mexica¡¯s vast wars over decades, such high-grade trophies were actually quite common.


    "This is the gear of a senior Tarasco warrior, from a rousing victory!"


    Finally, Aweit offered a bronze helmet, a pair of bronze shoulder guards, and a bronze battle-axe.


    The elder¡¯s gaze finally wavered. He watched the bronze helmet and shoulder guards and nodded slightly. These were Tarasco¡¯s newest creations in the recent decade or so.


    It was then Xiulote¡¯s turn to present his offering.


    "This is the trebuchet I invented, which can hurl a forty-pound stone projectile up to three hundred meters and a hundred-pound projectile up to one hundred and fifty meters," he began, first presenting a small model of the trebuchet.


    After a series of structural optimizations, the trebuchet¡¯s range and power had been enhanced. Xiulote had already dispatched people to the market to acquire bronze nails and commission bronze connectors in an effort to further refine and strengthen the trebuchet.


    The elder nodded. A hundred-pound projectile could not effectively destroy solid stone walls several meters high, but it could damage the rudimentary wooden and stone walls of the city-states to the south.


    "This is the longbow I invented. Within a range of one hundred and sixty paces, it can injure unarmored militia. Within a range of one hundred and twenty paces, it can injure low-level samurai wearing padded armor. At a flat trajectory up to ninety paces, it can injure elite samurai wearing leather armor."


    Xiulote presented a gold-gilded longbow, then confidently proclaimed its power.


    The elder¡¯s eyes sharpened. He observed the longbow and Xiulote for a moment, assessing him in his Teotihuacan attire. He then gestured with his hand, and two samurai came forward and set up leather armor to test the longbow¡¯s might. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The great hall, combined with the corridor, was nearly a hundred paces long. The testing warrior in his prime had a slightly curved spine and calloused hands¡ªhe was an expert skilled with the Tlaxcalan bow. After test firing twice to gauge the strength of the bow, he was quite surprised. Then, drawing the bow to seventy percent, he shot an arrow fast as lightning, piercing the leather armor seventy paces away, pinning it to the wall, the arrow still quivering.


    The elder¡¯s gaze lingered on the piece of leather armor. He watched the two arrow holes, front and back of the chest, and pondered in silence.


    Seizing this opportunity, Quetzal approached with a smile, bowed, and whispered softly, "Elder, the longbow¡¯s power is indeed extraordinary. King Tizoc died by a longbow¡¯s arrow."


    The elder¡¯s gaze dropped slightly. He said nothing, simply waving his hand.


    The samurai then took the longbow and bowed as they withdrew.


    "This is the paper I invented, which can be used to record all sorts of information. It only requires cheap materials such as tree bark, jute, bamboo, and reeds to produce tens of thousands of sheets of paper. These three loads of paper only took ten craftsmen two weeks, and we can produce them even faster in the future!"


    Xiulote offered three loads of paper and a scroll with Chinese characters from the Thousand Character Text. He unrolled the scroll to show the writing, then tugged at it to demonstrate the durability of the bast paper.


    The elder motioned for Xiulote to come closer. He took the papers and flipped through them, then inspected the paper with Chinese characters written on it. This time, he did not nod but seemed lost in thought.


    "This is the script I invented, with clear definitions, standard writing rules, and formation combinations. Nobles, priests, samurai, and even residents from distant city-states¡ªif they master this script¡ªcan clearly understand the regulations, mythological histories, and major affairs of the Alliance written on paper!"


    Xiulote finally presented a set of ideograms and the corresponding wooden blocks for regular script Chinese characters. He pointed proudly to the paper in the elder¡¯s hands, declaring the greatness of the script. This was the real foundation that would hold the empire together; everything would change from this point!


    The elder lowered his eyes, sinking into deep contemplation, and the great hall was filled with solemn silence.


    Quetzal watched the characters in front of him intently. His thoughts raced, and then his gaze became stern and serious, the smile vanishing from his face for the first time. When he looked at Xiulote again, he also intentionally lowered his eyelids, concealing the deep chill within.


    Uguel, on the other hand, was completely oblivious. He simply touched the soft paper, thinking that if it was cheap, it could be convenient for some daily uses. Indeed, it was certainly better than leaves and twigs!


    After a moment, the elder finally waved his hand. Xiulote respectfully withdrew, heart bursting with grand aspirations, confident in pioneering a bright cultural future!


    Suddenly a bell rang out. Xiulote turned toward the sound, only to see the elder shaking a small bell in his hand. As Xiulote was still puzzled, the samurai, who had been like statues in the great hall, instantly gathered around the two men as if they had heard a spell.


    "Arrest them!" the elder spoke for the first time, his voice like ancient rocks, old and devoid of any emotion.


    The elder¡¯s guards swarmed in and subdued Aweit and Xiulote. Then, a side door opened, leading to the depths of the inner palace. Xiulote was taken into the unknown depths, a mix of bafflement and shock on his face.


    Just before entering, Aweit glanced at the expressionless elder and was confident yet serene.

 Chapter 148 - 93 Questions and Fate Part 1

    After a brief disturbance, Aweit and Xiulote vanished inside the great hall. The samurais resumed their statue-like stillness. Quetzal stood with his hands bound and bowed, smiling as usual, thinking rapidly. Uguel was tense and respectful, his face showing surprise, puzzled in his heart.


    The elder still had his eyes cast down, as if between sleep and wakefulness, one couldn¡¯t tell where his thoughts were drifting. The great hall once again returned to silence.


    The breeze stirred the divine curtains within the palace. The sound of the wind became the whispers of saints between heaven and earth. But no one could hear clearly the sacred murmuring within the breeze. And so, those indecipherable whispers turned into the fate of mortals.


    After a long while, the elder opened his eyes, tranquil as a still well.


    "Quetzal, what do you think a priest is?"


    Quetzal¡¯s gaze sharpened. He could grasp the thoughts of most people and easily influence their emotions, but he had always found it difficult to read the elder. Like a beast on the ground, limited by its vision, it can never see the clouds above. And the clouds themselves, have no emotions to be manipulated.


    "Respected elder," Quetzal pondered slightly, "a priest is a listener of the divine. They hear the Divine Will, maintain the Divine Kingdom with rituals and thoughts, and control the divine¡¯s citizens."


    "But the Divine Will is hard to discern. To grasp it accurately, priests can only rely on truly great saints, submit to the immortal sun¡ªthat is you!" S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As for what priests would do after the sun had set or when the saint was no longer there, Quetzal didn¡¯t mention, and the elder did not need to ask.


    Having heard Quetzal¡¯s words, the elder gave no confirmation nor denial. He simply turned to Uguel.


    "Uguel, what do you think a priest is?"


    Upon hearing this, sweat emerged on Uguel¡¯s forehead. He replied carefully.


    "Respected elder, my view is similar to that of the Chief Priest."


    "Hmm. Uguel, what do you think a king is?"


    Uguel¡¯s body trembled. He bowed his head nervously, sweat trickling down from his forehead, over his cheeks, and into his neck, wetting his grand attire.


    "Respected elder, from my limited understanding, a king is the most noble of bloodlines, the leader of all nobility, responsible for the important matters of the Alliance under the guidance of the priesthood."


    "Uguel, I now control the priesthood. If my opinion differs from the king, whose will you follow?"


    The elder asked calmly.


    "Of course, I would listen to you, elder." Uguel didn¡¯t hesitate; this was a test he had gone through countless times in his mind, but today was the first time he had to apply it.


    "Hmm. And if I were no longer here? Whom would you listen to then?" The elder¡¯s voice was still without ripples.


    Uguel was struck with a nameless horror. He knelt to the ground with a thud, his sweat pouring down like rain.


    "This, this, this¡­ I follow the elder in all things, I dare not entertain such thoughts!"


    The elder shook his head and didn¡¯t ask Uguel to rise. He simply looked towards Quetzal.


    "Quetzal, what about you?"


    "The king is the executor of Divine Will, managing the earthly kingdom with law and martial power on behalf of the divinities, providing the sacrifices required by the divinities. Between the king and you, you naturally hold greater authority," Quetzal replied earnestly without hesitation, his smile contained.


    "And if I were no longer here?" The elder looked at Quetzal.


    At that, Quetzal bowed respectfully, composed under the elder¡¯s gaze. He weighed his words carefully¡ªthe elder was always selfless concerning state affairs. Then, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting the elder¡¯s squarely, replying honestly.


    "Then one must see whether the king is a sage. A king capable of implementing the elder¡¯s laws is a worthy successor, becoming a sage, and can also lead the priesthood. If the king is not wise, he needs the admonition and guidance of the priesthood. The priesthood itself must learn and master the will of the previous sage, learn to use divine resources properly, and lead the Alliance on its path of conquest."


    Quetzal responded with confidence. Through decades of learning, he understood the elder¡¯s religious reforms, was clear on the elder¡¯s governing philosophy, and was well-versed in the elder¡¯s political maneuvers; he saw himself as the most outstanding successor.


    Finally, the elder nodded, affirming the Chief Priest.


    "Quetzal, what do you think the future of the Alliance looks like?" The elder¡¯s inquiry carried a tone of examination.


    "The future of the Alliance is the ever-strengthening theocracy, ever-expanding territories, ever-growing number of city-states. The Guardian God will become the Chief Divine of the entire world, and all city-states will submit to Him! Your will shall be propagated throughout the world."


    Quetzal answered with respect and ardor. Glancing at the elder out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a hint of a satisfied smile, which calmed his heart.


    "Hmm. Good." For the first time, the elder expressed affirmation. "Uguel, what do you think?"


    "Elder... I, my thoughts are the same as the Chief Priest." Uguel continued to kneel on the ground, his head nodding as he trembled. The interrogation was brief, yet his clothes were already soaked through.


    "Uguel, rise. You still have time to learn."


    After these words, the elder paid no further attention to Uguel as he stood up shaking. He turned his gaze back to Quetzal and asked calmly.


    "Quetzal, what do you think of the young one¡¯s writing?"


    At this, alarm bells went off in Quetzal¡¯s mind. He thought carefully, trying to decipher the elder¡¯s thoughts, then smiled calmly with caution, providing a brief answer.


    "If what he says is true, it certainly is a good thing for the Alliance! However, such written words are best kept in the hands of the Priesthood and the Royal Family, and taught with caution."


    The elder nodded slightly. He asked no further questions, instead falling into thought once more. In the hall, only the sound of the wind billowing the curtains could be heard, animating the shapes of deity figures until noise from below disturbed the quiet.


    The elder looked out the window, catching a glimpse of the clamorous Samurai, his expression unchanged. After a moment, a high-ranking Samurai came hurrying over.


    "Respected elder, Samurai from Awit¡¯s family have not seen him come out for some time, and now they are causing a ruckus under the instigation of several trusted aides."


    The elder nodded slightly. He rose to his feet, his pace slow and steady, until he reached the fully open balcony. His figure bathed in the noon sunlight, resplendent, he seemed like the sun itself.


    The statue-like Head Warrior followed close behind. He took out a horn from some great beast of the far north and blew into it with force, the rich sound of the horn echoing through the heavens and earth.


    The two thousand family Samurai beneath the palace heard the horn, raised their heads, and saw the deity-like white-haired old man.


    "It is the great Xiwakowatle! The Chief Minister of fifty years! Our elder!"


    The older members of the Great Nobility looked at each other, then without hesitation, knelt to pay homage. This great figure had accompanied their childhood, youth, adulthood, and even their old age, guiding every major affair of the Alliance. He had long since become a symbol of divinity, an omnipotent emblem of authority, deeply engraved in the hearts of the Mexica.


    The Great Nobility were the first to kneel in homage, followed by the lesser Nobility with heritage. Heritage taught them of the elder¡¯s greatness and majesty and also of the bloody price of defying the elder.


    "It is the immortal sun! The sun still shines upon us!"


    Then the older Samurai came to their senses and knelt promptly. This was the great elder they had obeyed since childhood, the sacred on earth, leading every expansionary great deed of the Alliance.


    Last to kneel were the younger Samurai. They had only seen the elder once, twelve years ago at Montezuma¡¯s funeral, a divine figure above the King, the mythical hero worshiped by all since childhood.


    Two thousand Samurai knelt in subordination one after another, as praises filled the air beneath the palace. Only the angry Stanley and the world-weary Bertade remained standing. Angered, Stanley knelt reluctantly amidst the tugging of surrounding Samurai. Bertade sighed deeply, and then silently knelt as well.


    The elder nodded slightly. "Tell them, the King shall fast for a week, in preparation for his ascension."


    Quetzal bowed his head obediently and announced loudly.


    "Faithful Samurai, your prince Awit will formally inherit the throne in one week. To dedicate his loyalty to the supreme Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, he will fast for a week in the Chief Palace, to win back the Chief Divine¡¯s protection over Mexica!


    Samurai, I commend your loyalty. You are also beloved by the War God and will surely gain the War God¡¯s blessings! Now, disperse, return to your families, and pray for blessings for the great new King!"


    The two thousand family Samurai cheered. They knelt down, bowed deeply in reverence to the elder, and then dispersed under the leadership of Nobles both great and small. Acap, too, was overwhelmed with excitement, for he had finally seen the elder!


    Bertade sighed again, pulling the young Priest hurriedly towards the city¡¯s edge. Now, he could trust no one but the High Priest of Teotihuacan.


    Watching the dispersing crowd, the elder¡¯s gaze remained calm. He turned and returned to the stone throne, giving his command without emotion.


    "Quetzal, go down and prepare for Awit¡¯s coronation ceremony in a week."


    Quetzal bowed respectfully, and then hesitated. His reservations about Xiulote were still paramount, and thus he knelt down and paid his respects.


    "I will follow your will, respected elder! Please forgive my boldness in asking, but the child..."


    The elder¡¯s gaze swept over him, and Quetzal immediately fell silent. He simply prostrated himself on the ground, bowing without speaking.


    The elder remained silent for a moment, then spoke in an even tone.


    "The Sage sent an Envoy. I will send the child. This week, I shall question him about writing. You need only do well in the ceremony, and there will naturally be the due reward. You may all leave now."


    Finally, the elder added meaningfully.


    "It is time for the two great Priesthoods of the Alliance to be united once again."


    Quetzal¡¯s heart leapt with joy. Once Xiulote died, he would have no more worries. And when the two great Priesthoods united again, the Chief Priesthood at the heart of the Capital¡¯s power would control the highest divine authority. Without a doubt, he would also stand at the very apex of power!


    So Quetzal wore a respectful smile, bowed in thanks, his heart trembling. Uguel also trembled as he bowed to take his leave.


    The two backed out of the hall, and then moved in silence for a long time before Quetzal finally sighed deeply.


    Uguel wiped the sweat from his brow, looking enviously at Quetzal: "Old man, you sure can talk. You¡¯re reasoned before the elder. Why don¡¯t you give me a hint or two!"


    Quetzal glanced at Uguel with a light chuckle, "Uguel, the elder said you still have time to learn. It¡¯s just uncertain what, as uncarvable wood, you might actually learn!"


    The pressure of the interrogation was too much. Quetzal couldn¡¯t help but mock, relieving his emotions.


    Uguel¡¯s face turned red, wanting to say something but ultimately remained silent. A cool breeze passed by, taking away the sweat and heat, and he felt a chill. Indeed, what could he learn?


    Quetzal sighed deeply in his heart: "Respected elder, at your age, you should be peacefully journeying to the Divine Kingdom, rather than clinging to power, toiling over the trifles of the mortal world. If it were not for your Alchemy surpassing mine, your inscrutable mind, your emotions without any cracks... your loyal servant would have seen you off on your journey!"


    He shook his head, casting away needless thoughts, and strode away. He had to ensure the new King¡¯s coronation ceremony was done well.


    The wind continued to blow, and the palace curtains still whispered, but the elder¡¯s figure was no longer to be seen.

 Chapter 149 - 94 Questions and Fate Part 2

    The bright sunshine showered upon the Chief Minister¡¯s palace, casting the painted curtains in a radiant and gentle light. Yet as one traversed the long stone path, delving deeper into the interior of the palace, darkness gradually engulfed the light, just as the cold, hard stone bricks replaced the soft fabric of the curtains, creating an atmosphere of chilling gloom.


    The elder proceeded down the steps with calm and measured steps, each one precise as if measured with a ruler. This was not intentional, but rather a habit of precise control over his body that had developed over the years. Leaders of the Mexica had always come from outstanding samurai, receiving the finest teaching from early childhood, along with decades of relentless training. The elder had also been an Eagle Warrior when he was young, shedding blood in fierce battles against the Tepanecs for the establishment of the Empire.


    However, time had taken away his youthful vigor. The elder, whose life spanned centuries, could now only walk at a steady pace. To accommodate the elder¡¯s strength, the passage was deliberately constructed to be slow and long, leading into the utter darkness. There, in the solemn presence of the samurai and the flickering light of expensive candles. The candlelight illuminated the murals along the way, and also outlined a solid stone door.


    Inside the pitch-black stone chamber, Aweit sat down with his legs crossed in silence, resting with his eyes closed. In this deep and secluded space, he had no perception of time. The ethereal fragrance of sandalwood permeated his body and mind, his thoughts gradually becoming ethereal as if sinking deep within himself, feeling the power hidden deep within his body.


    "Klunk..." The stone door slowly opened, and specks of candlelight seeped into the chamber, outlining the murals of the mighty and inscrutable Guardian God.


    Aweit opened his eyes and saw the time-worn yet majestic elder. Behind the elder stood the Head Warrior, holding a clay pot.


    "Respected elder, your most excellent descendant Aweit, pays his respects to you!" Aweit bowed deeply with a solemn salute, showing no dissatisfaction.


    The elder silently watched Aweit, observing his expression, demeanor, listening to his voice and heartbeat, watching his meticulous salute.


    After a long while, he finally spoke slowly.


    "Aweit, my child, you killed Tizoc, your brother. Do you admit your error?"


    Aweit remained silent for a moment, then firmly shook his head.


    "I am not wrong!"


    The elder just calmly looked at Aweit, his gaze carrying a pressure as heavy as a mountain. After a moment, he continued to inquire.


    "My child, you are a descendant of Montezuma I. If you admit your error, I will forgive you."


    Aweit pondered for a moment, then firmly refused once again.


    "I am not wrong! Tizoc lacked the ability to lead the Alliance to greatness, he was not my equal! I will lead the Mexica to conquer the world!"


    Listening to Aweit¡¯s ambitious plans, the elder remained impassive. He still calmly looked at Aweit, his gaze now even tinged with indifference. There was a murderous intent in that indifference, as if it were the will of the gods.


    In an instant, Aweit felt a chill through his entire body as if he had plunged naked into a deep pond in February. This was the authority of one at the pinnacle, a man of his word, commanding the lives of millions. Provoked by this murderous intent, he no longer concealed his own grandeur, returning the elder¡¯s cold gaze, though his hands trembled slightly.


    It was a long time before the elder nodded slightly.


    "As the supreme ruler, the reasons are unimportant, the means are unimportant, good and evil, right and wrong are also unimportant. The only thing important is steadfast conviction, an unyielding spirit, efficient action, and the correct objectives."


    "My child, tell me, what is a Priest?"


    Aweit finally let out a sigh of relief. He leaned slightly against the wall, feeling weak in his limbs. After a while, he calmly answered.


    "A Priest is a tool for the Royal Family to rule the Alliance, using the gods they create and rituals to maintain the bond with the Mexica people¡¯s hearts! They must obey the supreme King and serve the Royal Family in the name of the gods!"


    The elder nodded without objection. He calmly asked again.


    "My child, tell me, what is a King?"


    "A King is the ruler of the nation, the supreme and only one. All Priests, Nobility, and samurai must pledge loyalty to him. And he will lead the Mexica warriors to conquer the Tarasco, Tlaxcalans, Zapotecs, Mistecs, Otomi, Vastecs, Totonacs... until all the known world is conquered!"


    Now that his true motives had been revealed, Aweit no longer held back. His gaze burned with fierce longing, and his words thrummed with the ambition to swallow the world whole!


    Still unmoved, the elder quietly waited until Aweit¡¯s emotions settled before asking once more. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My child, tell me, what does the future look like for the Alliance?"


    This time, Aweit pondered for a long time before seriously responding.


    "The future of the Alliance is that of a vast Empire, stretching from the Great Lake in the west to the Great Lake in the east, from the White Disaster in the north to the Rainforest in the south, ruling all known lands. The King holds supreme authority! Priests, following the directives of the King, maintain the nation¡¯s morale. The minor Nobility relinquish the taxes they have intercepted, the Great Nobility surrender their privately held warriors, and the fate of City-State lords is decided by the King¡¯s word alone!"


    Listening to Aweit¡¯s description, the elder remained silent for a long time. He made no comment, neither affirming nor denying. Finally, he spoke slowly.


    "My child, remember the words you¡¯ve spoken today, remember the goals you¡¯ve pledged. The future will present you with many choices. When making these choices, remember, in a nation, no one is exempt from sacrifice. The only differences lie in when to sacrifice, how much to sacrifice, and for what. As long as the value justifies it, even you and I can be sacrificed."


    After hearing the elder¡¯s words, Aweit fell into deep thought. The elder silently watched him for a while, then turned and left, leaving behind one last statement.

 Chapter 150 - 94 Questions and Fate Part 2

    "This is the prayer room of the Guardian God Huitzilopochtli. Before ascending to the throne, your elder brother Asayacatl fasted here for seven days, contemplating the self and the gods."


    "My child, you will do the same. Seven days from now will be your coronation ceremony."


    The towering figure of the elder vanished behind the stone door. The stone door closed again with a solemn "boom," plunging the chamber back into utter darkness.


    Aweit remained steadfast, sitting cross-legged against the wall, a sense of relief in his heart as he slowly sank into tranquil breathing. Before the lengthy meditation, there was only one concern: How was Xiulote faring now?


    At that very moment, deep underground and not too far away, Xiulote leaned against a wall in the same pitch-black and freezing conditions, blankly staring into space. He wondered if he had taken the wrong script¡ªthis development was completely different from what he had anticipated. After fully demonstrating the potential of a great inventor, he had been thrown into a dark prison.


    Xiulote sniffed; the air carried a faint scent of animal musk. Fumbling around, his hand touched something cold. Just as he was startled, a cold, slimy sensation slithered up his arm and eventually rested on his warm chest. A pointed tail poked at his chin before coiling around the boy¡¯s neck like a big "?" resting on his chest and neck.


    The boy instantly froze, sweat breaking out, daring not to move an inch. He had determined it was a small snake. But in the absence of light, he couldn¡¯t tell whether the snake was venomous. Soon, the snake quietly fell asleep on the boy¡¯s comfortable chest, leaving behind someone who could not find sleep.


    Time passed excruciatingly slowly, as if an entire century had gone by. Leaning against the wall, the boy finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a fitful slumber, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, moistening his chest along the snake¡¯s body. In his dreams, there was an opulent feast.


    After an undeterminable time, he was awakened by the snake¡¯s writhing movements. He blinked his groggy eyes open and, by the dim candlelight, saw a small green snake straightening into a "!" on his chest before quickly twisting away, driven by the scent of some unidentified herbs, and disappearing behind the boy.


    Following the scent of the herbs, Xiulote lifted his head and dimly saw an old man with white hair, seemingly smiling faintly. Rubbing his eyes for a clearer look, he only saw the lean figure of the elder, and his gaze that was indifferent and unfeeling. Taking a deeper sniff, he could detect a hint of old man¡¯s scent mixed with blended herbal aromas in the enclosed space.


    The elder observed the boy in silence, and it was unclear how long he had been standing there. But it couldn¡¯t have been too long, as the water moccasin¡¯s sense of smell was very keen. Yes, it was a small green water moccasin with a white "cottonmouth," a triangular head, knife-shaped pupils, and sharp fangs.


    Xiulote vividly recalled the appearance of the snake, breaking into a cold sweat. The water moccasin¡¯s venom was highly potent; if it bit someone, symptoms would manifest in a matter of minutes. The bite would blacken and bleed, spreading inward, and once internal bleeding began, without antivenom, nothing could save the victim.


    Of course, he wasn¡¯t aware that the water moccasin¡¯s aggression was actually quite low. As long as he didn¡¯t threaten or harm the little green snake, it wouldn¡¯t use its precious venom on him. Like most snakes, its diet consisted of frogs, lizards, birds, or small shallow-water fish.


    The elder looked at Xiulote. The child had a peaceful mind and was not rash, which seemed to make for a good relationship with the water moccasin. He regarded the boy with a heavy gaze, offering no words.


    After some thought, Xiulote bowed his head respectfully. He didn¡¯t regard the elder as a deity, but simply revered him. He admired the grand achievements of establishing the Aztec Empire and shaping the Mexica people.


    "Respected elder, grand architect of the Mexica, descendant of Acamapichtli, Xiulote greets you!"


    By relation, he was the five-times-great-grandson of the first King Acamapichtli of Tenochtitlan, Aweit was the four-times-great-grandson, and if the elder was Acamapichtli¡¯s grandson, then he should also be the elder¡¯s great-grandson?


    The elder closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, they were filled with cold indifference and a chilling intent to kill. His gaze pierced into the boy¡¯s eyes, the unmistakable authority hitting him with the overwhelming sense of imminent death. The boy took an instinctive step back. Trembling, he leaned against the wall for support, averting his eyes from the elder. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Child, you killed Tizoc, your King. Do you admit your guilt?"


    Xiulote considered for a moment and decisively shook his head, still shivering.


    "I am not guilty! Tizoc tried to kill me multiple times. My killing him was first and foremost for self-defense. And for the Alliance, Tizoc was not a suitable King, Aweit is more fitting."


    "Child, you killed the King, and your crime is unforgivable."


    The words of the elder were cold as snow, hard as iron.


    "Then take my life as atonement! I¡¯m the only one responsible for my actions; it has nothing to do with my ancestors or with Aweit."


    Xiulote¡¯s legs were still weak. But this time, he boldly raised his head, meeting the elder¡¯s gaze with the courage of a samurai, attempting to reduce his tremors.


    The elder was silent for a moment before speaking softly.


    "Child, are you willing to offer your life to the gods?"


    Xiulote hesitated. He thought of the sacrificial ceremony and shuddered again, shaking his head resolutely.

 Chapter 151 - 94 Chapter Questions and Fate Part 3

    The elder pondered for a moment, then changed his question.


    "Child, are you willing to dedicate your life to the cause of the Mexica people?"


    This time, Xiulote nodded without hesitation. The cause of the Mexica people was now his own, his family¡¯s, his clan¡¯s, and even his tribe¡¯s cause.


    The elder looked at Xiulote¡¯s resolute expression, his earnest face, and the nodding of his head. He paused for a moment, withdrawing the fierce killing intent, before asking again.


    "Child, tell me, what is a Priest?"


    "Priests are those who honor the divine spirits, preside over sacrificial rites, and soothe the souls of believers. Whether they believe in divine spirits or not, they serve those who do believe, guiding the hearts of the faithful. In our Alliance, they are the bond that connects the various City-States through a common culture and faith," Xiulote reflected for a moment, then candidly replied according to his understanding.


    The elder contemplated the young man¡¯s answer. Feeling a curiosity he hadn¡¯t felt in a long time, he asked seriously and unrelentingly.


    "Child, do you believe in the existence of divine spirits?"


    Xiulote shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but remembering his own experiences, he altered his words.


    "Perhaps there are, but they have no bearing on the mortal world. We govern the nation in the name of the divine, but the rise and fall of the nation are matters of the human world."


    The elder examined the young man carefully for a moment. He made no comment, but continued with the examination.


    "Child, tell me, what is a King?"


    "The King is the ruler of the nation. They control the nation¡¯s wealth and manpower, and with these resources, they accomplish meaningful deeds for the nation, developing its strength and maintaining its stability. Such endeavors may include cultivating fields, building canals, unifying tribes, and establishing institutions. In our Alliance, kings must lead the Mexica people forward to conquer future adversities and challenges."


    As Xiulote pondered the future, his tone was filled with both hope and gravity.


    The elder looked down once again. He mused for a long while before continuing to inquire.


    "Child, tell me, what does the future of the Alliance look like?"


    This time, Xiulote thought for a long time, from the burgeoning civilizations of the Stone Age to the prolonged development of the Iron Age, to the boundless expansion of the Age of Sail, and then to the reshaping of everything in the age of steam and electricity.


    At last, he shook his head slightly; those futures beyond the economic foundation and technical limitations of this era held no meaning now.


    "The future of the Alliance is a united and strong nation. We must vanquish the Tarasco to the west and the Tlaxcalans to the east. We need to establish a centralized authority, reclaim the powers of the various City-States. Build a top-down governance system, but also provide bottom-up channels for advancement.


    The Alliance should extensively use metal agricultural tools and implements, construct vast waterways, develop commerce and mining, increase the production of food and other sources of wealth, and cultivate a class of low-ranking Samurai who own land. Maintain the balance of power between the Royal Family, the Priesthood, the Great Nobility, the lesser Nobility, the Samurai, and the commoners to keep the nation stable.


    What¡¯s more important, we must standardize the script of the Alliance and disseminate, in the form of books, the mythological histories, astronomical geography, herbal medicine, and sacrificial rites controlled by the Priesthood, as well as philosophical concepts. Most importantly, establish the foundation for national governance, thorough legislative systems, and clear codifications of rights and responsibilities!"


    After this response, the elder pondered for a very long time. He scrutinized the young man once again and then asked calmly.


    "Child, you possess great wisdom. Some say you are the reincarnation of my elder brother, Montezuma I, destined to rule the nation in the future. Do you think they¡¯re right?" S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote had just snapped back to his senses from his daydreaming and planning when this mundane query sent a chill from his feet to his head. It took him quite a while to answer with difficulty.


    "I am not the reincarnation of Montezuma I, but I yearn to govern this nation. Because only I can fulfill dreams that others cannot realize," he said.


    For the first time, the elder nodded slightly. He returned to the previous topic, his words now tinged with warmth.


    "My child, you said you want to compile a Code of Law using the written word, principles that shall govern our nation. So, what will the content of this Code be?" he asked.


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote tried hard to recall. He first attempted to remember the laws of the Celestial Empire¡¯s Ming Dynasty of this era, but could only recall the punishments of flogging, caning, penal servitude, exile, and death¡ªthe five canonical penalties. He tried to remember something earlier, the criminal law of the Great Song¡ªno killing Scholar-officials? That didn¡¯t seem right. The three chapters of laws by Liu Bang? That felt too brief.


    He switched his approach and thought of the Roman Code from the West, the Law of the Twelve Tables, which seemed closer, the Law of Nations, distinguishing citizens from non-citizens, the Justinian Code? What exactly was that?


    Regretting that he had not studied more diligently, Xiulote struggled to organize his fragmented knowledge and slowly recounted based on his understanding.


    "The Code should strictly define the rights and duties of each stratum, regulate the distribution and inheritance of property. The King possesses supreme authority, limiting the power of Priest and Nobility while ensuring the private property of citizens. We need Civil Law for the Mexica people, Law of Nations for the other tribes, and Religious Law that balances differing faiths. The maintenance of state affairs should be based on a social contract that adheres to the law..." he explained.


    The elder slightly frowned, but soon returned to an expressionless face. He patiently listened to all of Xiulote¡¯s recollections, then fell into silence.


    Xiulote looked at the elder, who was staring at the stone wall opposite them. Under the dim candlelight, there was a huge serpent body of the Feathered Serpent Divine carved on it, with three-colored Long Feathers on its body, and people crawling below it.


    After watching for a while, the elder slowly began to speak.


    "My child, this is the old Snake House of the Feathered Serpent Divine, a test of a Priest¡¯s resolve, mindset, wisdom, and divine grace. The Priests would meditate here for seven days, accompanied by the snake, seeking the gods¡¯ revelations between life and death," he explained.


    "Give him a Potion, a candle," the elder commanded the Head Warrior behind him. The Head Warrior took a vial of pale yellow Potion from a clay jar in his bosom and placed it at Xiulote¡¯s feet. He also lit a slender fish oil candle and fixed it to the wall.


    "My child, here¡¯s a candle for you, to study the mural thoroughly. Here¡¯s a potion, which you will need at a crucial moment," he said.


    "Starting tomorrow, I shall come to ask you about the written word. You have seven days to ponder carefully. After seven days, I shall ask you again about the Code," he stated.


    "Remember, you have already lost one opportunity. For the sake of the gift you brought, this is your last chance," he cautioned.


    Having finished, the elder turned and left without pause, not bothering to explain the use of the Potion.


    If Xiulote fed the Potion to the water-bellied snake, the snake would die. If he was careless enough to be bitten by the snake, the Potion applied to the wound could temporarily save his life. If he was foolish enough to drink the Potion directly, then there would be no need to consider who should be chosen anymore.


    Fate lies in the choices of mortals.


    Xiulote watched the elder leave. He suddenly felt all strength leave his body, collapsing onto the straw-covered ground, ignoring the dimly glowing Potion beside him, just lying there staring at the ceiling.


    In the faint candlelight above, there was the figure of the Feathered Serpent Divine with a man¡¯s body. He wore a smile, with pale skin and a large beard, standing on the Snake Boat, sailing toward the Great Lake in the East. Behind him were crowds of crying and despairing people, and the even taller War God.


    "What a strange mural," Xiulote sighed, "what a strange fate."


    As the smell of the dreadful Herbs drifted away, the little green snake emerged from nowhere once again. It coiled itself atop the young man¡¯s chest, forming a ":" shape. Then, shaking its head and tails, it hissed softly at the ceiling¡¯s great snake as if proclaiming something, as if to drive the Feathered Serpent Divine off its territory.


    "What a strange little snake," the young man thought, before he sank into a deep sleep, into the realm of the unknown.

 Chapter 152 - 95: The 7th Day, Explaining Characters and Words

    Time is always playing hide and seek with people, passing through the day like the wind, and blooming in the deep night like a flower. In the search, it slips away in the blink of an eye.


    The next seven days went by, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.


    Whenever Xiulote was alone, it was a long and difficult night. He pondered over and over the murals in the Serpent House by the dim candlelight. On all four walls were accounts of the Feathered Serpent Divine, depicted sometimes with a human body and other times with a snake¡¯s. It roamed between villages and towns, receiving the mortal¡¯s reverent worship.


    Above, on the roof, was the farewell of the Feathered Serpent Divine, entrapped by the primeval sun Tezcatlipoca, self-exiled. But in the myth, the place of the primeval sun was replaced by a newly depicted Guardian God. Not far above, the prayer room of the Guardian God where Aweit resided had once been that of the primeval sun. The transformation of the Guardian God was obvious at a glance.


    Thinking of the murals in the palace corridor, thinking of the oral message passed down from his grandfather, Xiulote understood the elder¡¯s unfinished intent. He began the long and difficult contemplation of how exactly to formulate the Code of Law.


    At that time, the little green snake would emerge damp from the underground water channels and then wring its body dry on the straw. It would then frivolously slither over the youth¡¯s body, seeking a comfortable spot to sleep. Usually, it was the warm chest; sometimes, the smooth back; and occasionally, it would wrap around the sturdy arms or thighs, depending on its mood.


    The young man¡¯s nature was peaceful and kind, like when the moon enters the fourth quarter, so he let the little green snake roam freely. He only refused the gifts the little green snake brought back, a beautiful Mexican butterflyfish, bitten to death, non-poisonous.


    Whenever the elder arrived, it signified the beginning of the day, and the guard captain in his company would also leave behind a new candle. The little green snake would hide in advance, going into the underground water channels to hunt. Xiulote then took the wooden tablets with hieroglyphics and Han characters and explained the words to the elder, one by one. The principle behind this was the Six Principles of Chinese writing, which include pictograms, indicatives, ideograms, and phonetics.


    "Proper characters as separate entities represent objects, combined, though, they form words." The writing at the front was all pictographic characters, used to represent the myriad things in this world, usually observable by the naked eye. These symbols should technically be referred to as "cash." Oracle Bone Script and Mexica pictographs are at this stage.


    For example, "mountains, rocks, fields, earth, flowers, birds, fish, insects, sun, moon, fire, rivers, people, eyes, hands, feet¡­" and so on. These are all represented in the primitive pictographs of the Mexica people, and simplifying them into more concise pictographic characters is not too difficult a task.


    The elder quickly grasped the concept of pictographic characters since these notions were already deeply rooted in his mind; now, they were simply being transformed into a more concise form.


    Of course, the understanding of some characters can vary due to culture. For instance, the pictograph for "husband" is an adult man with a hairpin, but in the Mexica understanding, it is an adult warrior with feathers. The pictograph for "woman" is a woman kneeling with bent legs, representing the subordinate status of women. In Mexica culture, where women commonly held inheritance rights and could even be tribal leaders, the subordinate aspect was abandoned, altering the representation to denote the concept of homemaking.


    For some pictographs of things not encountered, like "cattle, horses, sheep, carts," there was temporarily no way to explain. Xiulote could only vaguely describe them as large four-footed animals that could be domesticated and the transportation means pulled by such animals. However, the elder was quite interested in Xiulote¡¯s description of the fast-running chariots and horses.


    In the eyes of the Empire¡¯s rulers, the efficiency of communication was the greatest limitation of the Empire¡¯s territory. The time created by distance was the main factor restraining the expansion of classical military empires, not simply spatial distance. The efficiency of communication from the ruling center to the frontier determined the loyalty of the local residents and the stability of the frontier governance.


    The Mexica often conquered hostile city-states. In the far south, they even marched nearly a thousand kilometers to reach the edge of the Yucatan Rainforest. These subjugated city-states, due to the lengthy communication times and extremely low transport capacity, were forced to give up direct administration by the Mexica and instead became repeatedly rebellious and disloyal vassals.


    Each time they waged war from afar, the number of troops they could deploy was very limited because human carriers¡¯ food transport capacity was critically low. This is why the Otomi¡¯s wars failed.


    Before the invention of railway technology, the most efficient means of exchange were water and sea transport. Hence, the Roman Empire controlled the fast-communicating Mediterranean, while the Celestial Empire was keen on digging canals for efficient transportation.


    "My child, in the boundless grasslands of the far north, there exists a great four-legged beast that gallops swiftly. This is its horn. Do you think we can domesticate it?"


    The elder calmly looked at Xiulote as a statue-like samurai handed him a curved horn. Xiulote carefully examined it and blew a low "woo" sound; this should be the horn of a North American bison.


    "It¡¯s worth a try, but it might take several generations, perhaps decades," Xiulote murmured hesitantly.


    To tame the North American bison, one merely needed to capture enough juveniles, and success would eventually come. But taming was only about getting the bison accustomed to living alongside humans. Domestication, however, meant making the wild animals accustomed to working for humans, such as pulling carts or plowing fields, which required a tremendous investment of time and labor.


    Thirty years later, Spanish colonists would bring European cattle to Cuba for the first time. Xiulote felt unsure about domesticating the North American bison within thirty years.


    The elder nodded slightly. Shortly after, an envoy was summoned and quickly dispatched with a few brief instructions. Starting from this year, the contributions from the northern Vastec people would include "giant horned four-legged beast juveniles," totaling forty, in exchange for fewer quetzal feather outfits.


    "To see is to recognize, to observe is to comprehend." Following the pictograms, there were self-explanatory characters. Self-explanatory characters were the first step from pictograms to ideograms, representing specific partial or relative concepts. The method involved adding abstract symbols to corresponding parts of the pictograms, indicating the scope they represented.


    The evolution from pictograms to ideograms typically spanned thousands of years, and the original Mexica script was just on the cusp of this development.


    Self-explanatory characters can be simply understood as abstract symbols, with "up," "middle," and "down" being the most representative. "Up," one horizontal stroke with an extension upwards, signifies not only high places and vertical motion but also nobility. "Down," a horizontal stroke extending downwards. And "middle," a vertical stroke that¡¯s absolutely centered.


    Other self-explanatory characters include "root," "vermilion," and "tip," which are additional symbols placed at the root, trunk, and treetop of the character for "tree." "Say" marks a short dash above the character for "mouth," representing the sound of spoken words. Notably, the symbol for the Mexica King means "great speaker," similar to the symbols, depicted as a gust of wind or cloud beside a person¡¯s mouth.


    Upon hearing this, the elder nodded slightly. "Say" could serve as a symbolic emblem on the King¡¯s garb, becoming a symbol of authority.


    Next came the most important ideograms, formed by combining two or more independent characters to express a comprehensive meaning. Ideograms are capable of conveying many abstract meanings and have a strong function in character creation. Ideograms have merged with Huaxia culture¡¯s concepts, representing a unique understanding of the essence of things.


    Xiulote first explained the character "divine." On the left is "demonstrate," which indicates an altar, and on the right is "extend," which implies guidance. Divine spirits descend with the original qi and resonate with all things, then guide everything into existence. "Extend" can also signify thunder and lightning, and connecting an altar with the forces of nature symbolizes the divine spirits that communicate between heaven and earth.


    This is the meaning of the Heavenly Divine in Huaxia culture, where the divine spirits merely guide all things into being, existing as a certain presence of natural power. All things coexist with the divine, without precedence over one another. In contrast, in Europe, divine spirits created all things, even the world itself was created by the divine.


    The elder silently pondered, absorbing the culture within the Chinese characters, while also considering the future direction.


    Testing the waters, Xiulote asked the elder¡¯s opinion, "What exactly does ¡¯divine¡¯ mean?"


    The elder glanced at the youth briefly and replied simply and definitely, "All things obey the divine, and the divine grants all things to the Mexica people."


    Xiulote nodded silently, convinced without doubt.


    Next, Xiulote moved on to "warrior," formed from the characters for halberd and stop. Stop represents feet, and halberd represents a weapon, meaning a person walking with a weapon, conquering and showing off. The elder nodded slightly; "warrior" is the foundation of Mexica society. The warrior holding a weapon is the symbol of the Mexica people.


    "My child, what kind of weapon is this?" the elder inquired, pointing at the "halberd" character.


    After pondering for a moment, Xiulote replied, "This represents a simplified war club. When we have enough copper mines, we can produce standardized copper weapons. They do not wear out easily, and thus only need a sharp copper blade as the point of attack, unlike war clubs that require many easily-worn obsidian shards."


    The elder thought quietly. The replacement of stone weapons with copper ones was an inevitable trend, and the Tarasco people were also on the eve of a military transformation.


    There were also characters like "shoot," which depicts an arrow fired by a bow with "inch" as a variant of arrow. "Cut," depicting a person chopping a tree with an axe. "Border," picturing a person carrying weapons and guarding the frontier.


    The elder looked at "Border" for a moment. In the future, Jaguar and Eagle Warriors¡¯ war clothes could be engraved with the "Border" character, as these nobility warriors were responsible for collecting tributes from various vassal city-states. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then there were characters like "double trees grow side by side to form a forest, three people gather to form a crowd, a fallen bird by the river becomes a swan. Two people following each other is ¡¯to comply,¡¯ two hands dividing objects is ¡¯to split,¡¯ sunlight shining is ¡¯to dazzle.¡¯ The shape of a smaller upper portion and a larger bottom is ¡¯point,¡¯ eight cuts converging is ¡¯to divide,¡¯ a mountain valley is ¡¯gorge.¡¯ The sun and moon shining together is ¡¯bright,¡¯ rich colors is ¡¯gorgeous,¡¯ beneficial insects under heaven are silkworms..."


    "My child, what is a silkworm?" the elder asked thoughtfully, not recalling ever hearing of such a thing with his level of learning.


    "The silkworm is an insect from the distant west that eats tree leaves and spins silk cocoons. Silk can be woven into fine, thin silk cloth, valued more than gold, no, valued even higher than the rarest Quetzal feathers."


    Xiulote explained. In a Mexica abundant with gold and silver, exquisite feathers were far more precious, regarded as the gifts of divine spirits, while cheap gold was merely the excretion of divine spirits.


    The distant west. The elder gave Xiulote a deep look, and said nothing.


    These ideographic Chinese characters were the most difficult for Xiulote¡¯s accompanying warriors to master and understand, because their concepts were simple, and their thinking had not yet reached this level. The elder, however, was the fastest Chinese character learner Xiulote had ever seen, and ideograms posed no difficulty for him.


    Finally, there were the most numerous of all: the phono-semantic characters. Phono-semantic characters emerged from the foundation of pictographic, indicative and ideographic characters. This is where Chinese characters started, moving from expressing ideas to expressing sounds. Over eighty percent of Chinese characters are phono-semantic, which actually have endless possibilities for expansion.


    Phono-semantic characters can have the shape on the left and sound on the right, such as in ¡¯money,¡¯ ¡¯material,¡¯ ¡¯melt,¡¯ ¡¯fuse¡¯; the shape on the right and sound on the left, like in ¡¯release,¡¯ ¡¯duck,¡¯ ¡¯decapitate,¡¯ ¡¯neck¡¯; the shape on top and sound below, as in ¡¯reed,¡¯ ¡¯simple,¡¯ ¡¯empty,¡¯ ¡¯room¡¯; the shape below and sound above, such as in ¡¯firewood,¡¯ ¡¯sauce,¡¯ ¡¯basin,¡¯ ¡¯jar¡¯; the shape inside and sound outside, as in ¡¯hear,¡¯ ¡¯ask,¡¯ ¡¯Min¡¯; and the shape outside with the sound inside, seen in ¡¯divert,¡¯ ¡¯bandit,¡¯ ¡¯crawl,¡¯ ¡¯firm.¡¯


    To understand phono-semantic characters, one must devote a long time to learning and using them. However, once they master common patterns, they can actively create new phono-semantic characters. It can be imagined that, on different cultural soils, the Mexica people will certainly create their own unique new phono-semantic Chinese characters in the future.


    The elder finally stopped here. He watched Xiulote quietly, his gaze softening for a moment, then returning to its usual indifference.


    "My child, rest well. Tomorrow is Aweit¡¯s coronation ceremony; I will take you to watch the Great Sacrifice and the tributes. Afterward, comes your answer."


    The elder turned and left, continuing without pause. He was like the chill of the Arctic Circle, moving onward, never halting, marked by austerity and solitude.


    On the last night of the seven days, without candles, Xiulote spent a lightless, quiet night. The little green snake coiled peacefully on his chest, ready for tomorrow¡¯s farewell. That night, Xiulote dreamt of creating characters; as he wrote the character for ¡¯divine,¡¯ it turned into the sun and blood.


    Early the next day, melodious and joyful singing flowed through the Lake Capital City, like the chanting of divine spirits, announcing the change of human monarchs. Xiulote awoke to the singing. He shook his head with effort and vaguely saw the brightness and crimson of the Capital City.

 Chapter 153 - 96: The Coronation Ceremony: Song and Dance, Sacrifices, Light, and Blood

    The clear and joyful flute sound pierced through the thick stone walls, echoed in the pitch-black chamber along with the distinct rhythm of orderly drumbeats. Xiulote sat up and listened intently, while the little green snake wobbled with his movements, faintly harmonizing with the ancient chants of the priests.


    After a while, the little green snake swiftly slithered across his chest, its cool tail sweeping over his neck, and then mysteriously vanished. Xiulote then lifted his head and looked toward the direction of the door. As expected, moments later, the stone door rumbled open.


    In the faint candlelight, the elder nodded at him. He glanced at the pale yellow potion on the ground, then at the unharmed youth, before turning and walking away. Xiulote quickly stood and followed the elder. The Guard Captain effortlessly applied force and closed the heavy stone door. The three of them then headed towards the palace¡¯s summit.


    Xiulote¡¯s steps were a bit unsteady from lack of recent movement. Fortunately, the elder walked slowly, so slowly that the pleasant flute had already transitioned through ten different melodies, and the pulsing of the drumbeats was now mixed with the loud gongs, with the music also incorporating the clear sound of copper bells. Gradually, he began to hear high-pitched chants, multitudes of singing voices, and the boiling cheers of hundreds of thousands.


    At last, Xiulote finally reached the top of the palace, standing at the open window. He first closed his eyes to adjust, then opened them to gaze down: from the Temple of the Great Temple down, his view was now infinite brightness, a sea brimming with joy!


    Looking down from sixty meters high, under the dazzling sunlight, was the ten-plus square kilometers of the Capital City, with a crowd of three hundred thousand celebrating. On the outer edges of the Texcoco lake, countless boats had docked, with tens of thousands of villagers dressed up, traveling from dozens of miles away. Young men and women in vibrant clothing, wealthy families waving banners of deities, singing and dancing, gradually converged towards the city center, led by the village priests.


    "The respected King Aweit will be crowned today; a new sun blesses the citizens of Mexica. Celebrate! Cheer! This is a festival of gods and men!" Priests chanted loudly, marching along the way.


    And as the crowd moved, Xiulote¡¯s gaze followed into the Capital City¡¯s inner districts where the ceremonies had already begun.


    Nearly a hundred communities, both north and south of the Capital, began their prayer rituals in the Temples at the same time. The scent of pine and sandalwood filled the entire Capital. Outside the Temples, priests set up altars, singing and performing the sacrificial dances. The residents of the communities gathered in circles, waving and stepping, belting out songs, praying for the blessing of the Guardian God, praying for a harvest in the coming year.


    Energetic young men and women clashed in dance within the circles. They were adorned with strings of crisp stones, beautiful shells, or delicate copper bells. In their joyful movements, continuous collisions produced a clinking and clanging. Along with the group dance, there were also bold exchanges of gazes and confident displays of bodies. Occasionally, young men would recite impromptu poems to the girls in front of them.


    "My spirit yearns for the nourishment of flowers, I endure the agony of music, my heart contains only the deity and you!" A young man boldly took the hand of the girl he adored, offering her the most beautiful shell.


    The surrounding crowd offered praise. The girl lowered her head slightly, withdrawing her hand. She stealthily pointed to the sun above, gestured a falling motion, then pointed towards the boats by the lake. The young man nodded excitedly, dancing enthusiastically around the girl as laughter erupted from the onlookers. This was a commoner¡¯s chorus.


    Overwhelmed, Xiulote continued to look towards the beautiful inner districts of the Capital. In the central square of the Capital and the surrounding Nobility courtyards, more professional music, dance, drama, and poetry performances were taking place.


    Nobility and Samurai built their family altars from stone, striving to place costly jade jewelry, vibrant feather shells, glittering gold and silver ornaments, beautiful clothes and feather fans, as well as majestic weapons and shields on them. Of course, there were also richly fragrant fresh flowers, blessings for the deities.


    Professional bands and dancers performed around the stone altars. The most popular instrument was the cheerful and melodious flute, single flutes had already begun to use quarter notes, while double and triple flutes even had sixteen pitch-adjusting tones. The flute sound soared to the sky at times and swirled at one¡¯s feet at others, but always wound its way into the heart. Noble young ladies danced gracefully to the beautiful melodies, their skirts fluttering, their sweet singing voices harmonizing with the flute.


    "I am a bounding red sparrow, trilling out perfect notes, much like the songthroat of a painted bunting, waiting for your stooping kiss." This was the Nobility¡¯s chorus. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Further out, experienced musicians picked up rubber war clubs, alternating between striking the solid wooden gongs of the Teponaztli with a thumping sound, and then the hollow wooden drums of the Huexolotlin with a booming sound. To this distinct rhythm, Samurai began performing the vigorous War Dance, swinging gold and jade-adorned war clubs, rotating ornate shell-covered shields, and valiantly extolling war and death.


    "A Samurai should be like falling petals, watering the earth with blood, elevating the soul to the Divine Kingdom!" This was the Samurai¡¯s chorus.


    At the highest seats of honor, professional actors performed plays praising the deities, reciting beautiful poems one after another. Maids clad in short gowns that economized fabric, gracefully danced around the actors. Esteemed family elders and seniors sat with dignity around them,


    wearing jade and feather cloaks, sipping agave and fruit wines in moderation, nibbling on assorted delicacies, including corn tortillas, sweet potatoes, grilled fish pieces, smoked meat jerkies, raw tomatoes, pumpkin seeds, roasted algae, baked worms, and the rare and expensive ant eggs. Sometimes, in high spirits, elders would also take to the floor, elegantly dancing a number, then reciting a poem to the cheers of everyone around.

 Chapter 154 - 96: The Coronation Ceremony: Song and Dance, Sacrifices, Light, and Blood_2

    "The gaze of the divine watches over the ancestors. He said, ¡¯Mexica people, from lake to lake, from mountain to mountain, this is your home, your land, your nation!¡¯" This was the Priest¡¯s hymn.


    Xiulote was entranced by the splendid beauty of the celebration. Yet, when he looked inward again, what he saw was a different kind of sacred bloodshed.


    Inside the walled boundaries of the Temple District, there were also dense crowds. These people were invited attendees, dressed in their most formal attire, participating in the coronation ceremony at the Great Temple.


    On the outer edge, there were foreign merchants adorned with various exotic ornaments. Followed by noble Poets, skilled Temple Craftsmen, Mexica military merchants, high-ranking elite Samurai, and representatives of the community. Most of them wore garlands and formal cloaks, excitedly and joyfully talking loudly, watching the intense sacrificial ball game.


    At the inner edge, various Nobles sat cross-legged on beautifully woven feathered mats, clad in vibrant cloaks with blooming plumes on their heads. They conversed quietly, under the service of servants and slaves, watching the temple rituals and also observing the ball game from the corners.


    In each corner of the Temple District, there were large stone ball courts, semi-constructed underground, about four to five meters deep, with exposed tops for spectators, resembling a neatly arranged stone pit. Each court had two teams of 20 Otomi captives, engaged in intense ball-hitting games, vying for a solid rubber ball infused with latex.


    According to the formal game¡¯s requirements, captives wearing only shorts occupied tens of meters of half-court, striking the ball back and forth with their hips, alternating turns between sides. A score was made whenever the opponent touched the ball twice, or if the opponent¡¯s return went out of bounds. Priests were specially appointed to record the scores. Usually, the ball game lasted for two hours until both sides were exhausted, unable to provide a more vigorous match; then the Priests would declare the winner.


    Unlike the Maya rituals, the winners of the Aztec ball game would receive honor and wealth, while the losers would be offered to the divine. The symbolic meaning of the sacrificial ball game was the unending struggle between the Guardian God and his wicked siblings. The sacrificial ball game also inspired the creation of the game "Quidditch" in later generations. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As Xiulote watched, suddenly, a thunderous cheer came from the northwest corner. He turned his gaze and saw a strong Otomi captive powerfully strike the five-pound rubber ball. The solid ball whistled straight, smashing into the face of a young captive opposite. Blood instantly flowed from his nose and mouth, his facial bones slightly concave, twitching as he fell. Nearby, two other teammates lay with broken ribs. Apparently, the Otomi team intended to win this way.


    The Priest referee loudly announced the scores, and the strong Otomi captive scored again!


    The cheers among the spectators erupted once more. An agile, older warrior captive came up on the opposing side. With a solemn gaze, he measured along the wall with his arm repeatedly and finally, with a twist of his hips, he powerfully struck the ball. The rubber ball traced an unnaturally precise arc, just brushing past the four-meter-high wall and squeezing through an exceptionally narrow ring.


    The thunderous cheers were louder than ever, attracting even the attention of the warriors beneath the Great Temple. It was a game-ending move, rarely seen in months! The Priest referee declared fervently, and the winner was then adorned with a colorful cloak and escorted out of the city for release by the warriors, while the loser was tied up by ropes and taken to the small temples around for sacrifice.


    The strong Otomi captive roared in resistance and despair, but was swiftly subdued with a skillful stick hit by an Eagle Warrior, clutching his abdomen as he fell. The Priest referee frowned, took out a small clay pot, and poured a few mouthfuls into the strong captive¡¯s mouth. Soon, the captive was giggling idiotically, compliantly taken to the top of the tower, and then rolled down in another form, leaving a long trail of red.


    The sacrificer at the small temple died silently without the Priest announcing his name to guide his soul. Then, amid the cheers of the spectators, the next sacrificial ball game began again.


    Beneath the Great Temple, noble battle groups lined up neatly, presenting formidable dances before the divine. A thousand fierce Jaguar Warriors, adorned with clinking tiger tooth and bone, performed a war dance for the War God. A thousand splendid Eagle Warriors, draped in vibrant, swinging multicolored feathers, performed a beast dance for the Rain Divine.


    Next to dozens of large and small Temples, Priests lit the lingering sacred incense, chanting in a uniform, deep tone. Xiulote listened intently; this was a hymn praising the Guardian God.


    "The Guardian God of the Mexica ascends to the sky, replacing the original sun. He fights the evil moon and night, drawing strength from hearts and blood..."


    Then, from the top of the War God Hall of the Great Temple, a resounding and deep Priest chant came: "Noble Owatdne from Otapan City goes to the realm of the War God! Honor him!"


    Xiulote turned at the sound and saw a body entirely in blue rolling down from the sixty-meter-high top of the War God Hall of the Great Temple. Divine liquid flowed robustly from the massive hole in his chest, scattering along the way until it was stopped by the reclining sculpture of the Moon Goddess Coyolxauhqui at the base of the Temple.


    In mythology, the Moon Goddess led her siblings, symbols of the night, in pursuit to kill their inadvertently pregnant mother. However, at the critical moment, Guardian God Huitzilopochtli emerged from his mother¡¯s womb, wielding the Lightning Rod, defeating his siblings, and slaying his wicked sister, chopping her into pieces to prevent her resurrection. The sculpture accurately depicted the dead form of the Moon Goddess and also foreshadowed the fate of the sacrifices to follow.

 Chapter 155 - 96: The Coronation Ceremony: Song and Dance, Sacrifices, Light, and Blood_3

    From the Great Temple stretched a long, blue procession of Sacrifices. Under the escort of fully-armed War Priests, they took another step forward. At today¡¯s Sacrificial Rite, 365 Otomi nobles were to be sacrificed at the War God¡¯s Temple, symbolizing the 365 days of the Haab¡¯ Sun Calendar. Every day, the Sun God required the blood and heart of a noble descendant to maintain the world¡¯s rotation.


    In this era, under the control of Trakel Er, the scale of the sacrifices was limited. The rites emphasized the sacredness of the ritual process and the nobility of the Sacrifices¡¯ bloodline, focusing on the quality of the Sacrifices, rather than merely increasing the quantity. Most ordinary captives were consigned to labor on massive construction projects. And Maya blue was the Heavenly Divine¡¯s dye, symbolizing those sent to the Divine Kingdom as Sacrifices.


    Hearing the familiar voice, Xiulote looked towards the uniformly elevated War God Hall and saw the Chief Priest, Quetzal, presiding over the sacrifice.


    Draped in a feathered cloak and Divine Crown, Quetzal was smiling as he tossed the fresh offering into the flames, sacrificing it to the Sun God. Then another blue Sacrifice arrived. He was a young Otomi noble with wild tattoos on his face. He stood tall, resolutely facing the death that lay ahead.


    "Child, what is your name?" Quetzal asked with a kindly, benevolent smile.


    "I am the descendant of Coyote, Huanaztle of Pamus. The offspring of the Coyote never fear death, and I will continue to fight in the Divine Kingdom!" Huanaztle proudly replied.


    "Child, you are admirable. You will fight against darkness for four years in the Divine Kingdom. Then your spirit will fall to the mortal realm, transforming into a precious bird. You may choose to become a Hummingbird, Oriole, Canary, or a white butterfly, drinking nectar from various flowers. What do you wish to become?" Quetzal smiled, praising the warrior¡¯s courage.


    Huanaztle blinked his eyes slightly, recollecting the beauty from his memories, and then donned a smile.


    "I wish to become a white butterfly, dancing in the valleys of my northern homeland, gathering wildflowers from in front of her tomb."


    "You will! Rest assured, child, your wish will soon come true!" Quetzal reassured with a genuine smile, soothing the young noble¡¯s soul. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Unbelievable as it might sound, but in the Aztec belief, both the blood-and-fire warriors and the Sacrifices heading for the Divine Kingdom would float in the heavens, fighting for the Sun for four years. They would then descend to earth, transforming into all things beautiful, including birds and flowers.


    Next, Huanaztle lay on the sacrificial stone, baring his chest with the Coyote tattoo. Quetzal took the lead, the other four from the Chief Priesthood each seized his limbs, and Uguel with his plump hands gripped his neck. This was also why it was customary for the Chief Priesthood to consist of six people.


    Soon, the ancient and sharp Obsidian Dagger fell, and the Coyote tattoo lost its head. Quetzal¡¯s incision was precise and swift. Huanaztle¡¯s eyes suddenly widened with a violent and powerless twitch of his limbs, and then he was still.


    Quetzal then raised the throbbing heart high with his right hand, an act meant for the War God to enjoy. He then chanted loudly, with praise in his tone.


    "The brave Huanaztle of Pamus¡¯ Coyotes, goes to the War God¡¯s domain! He will fight fearlessly for four years, then transform into a beautiful white butterfly, gathering wildflowers from the hills of the north!"


    Cheers of admiration came from below the Great Temple. This praise was recognition of the Sacrifices¡¯ courage, preserving the most beautiful demeanor of a warrior!


    Then, Pamus¡¯ heart fell into the flames, offered to the Sun God. His body rolled down the temple stairs, landing before the Moon Goddess. His blood returned to the earth. In the simple view of life and death among the Mexica, this was the perfect return.


    "Child, what is your name?" Quetzal asked, smiling as usual, facing the next Sacrifice.


    "I am Tlalhuicole of Xilotepec. I will face death calmly, but my spirit will not go to the War God¡¯s domain. The Primordial God, Ometeotl, will surely provide me guidance!" Tlalhuicole said calmly, his eyes brimming with conviction.


    Quetzal maintained his smile: "Perhaps." He did not say more, only continued skillfully.


    Tlalhuicole lay down, closed his eyes, then trembled violently, weakened to a stop, and finally rolled with the wind.


    "The devout noble Tlalhuicole of Xilotepec, goes to the War God¡¯s domain! After four years, his spirit will follow his own will, flying freely!"


    Once more, intense cheers followed, as natural as the laws of nature. The Mexica simply praised the splendor of death.


    "Next." Another blue Sacrifice staggered forward.


    "Child, what is your name?" Quetzal asked kindly, looking at the slightly plump young noble.


    Clenching his teeth tightly, holding back tears in his eyes, he refused to speak.


    "Child, leave your name, and I shall guide you on the path to the Divine Kingdom." Quetzal gently persuaded.


    But the noble remained silent, not opening his mouth. It seemed he simply believed that this way, he might avoid death.


    Quetzal frowned slightly. "Continue." He gestured with his hand to proceed to the next step.


    The plump noble was pressed against the sacrificial stone, his chest laid out flat. He collapsed instantly, sobbing uncontrollably. Uguel¡¯s burly hand gripped his throat, cutting off his cries, leaving only tears to flow.


    The Obsidian Dagger fell again, making its incision. Soon, the crying stopped completely. Then the plump body, streaming with divine fluid, rolled once more down the steps.

 Chapter 156 - 96: The Coronation Ceremony: Song and Dance, Sacrifices, Light, and Blood_4

    "The noble Osanto of the Otomi goes to the realm of the War God!" Quetzal chanted briefly, casually adding a name, without commentary.


    This time, no cheers erupted. A cowardly Samurai was not worthy of praise. In the martial society of the Mexica, cowardice was the greatest sin.


    The sacred sacrificial rites continued. Whether brave, calm, or crying, in the divine sacrifice, the outcome was already destined.


    The sacrifice ceremony had to be presided over by a Priest capable of communicating with the divine, and such high-standard ceremonies even required the personal presence of the Chief Priesthood. Quetzal¡¯s actions were precise and swift, making him the most skilled at the task.


    Each sacrifice of the Otomi nobility took between one and three minutes, and 365 nobles would take up the entire day. The Great Temple¡¯s sacrifices began at dawn and lasted until dusk, with six Chief Priests taking turns performing the rite. The number of people involved in high-standard sacrifices could not be arranged too extensively, as the physical stamina of the Elder Priests could not keep up.


    The number of sacrifices at the Aztec Temple all held special meaning, corresponding to astronomical events, guiding earthly affairs.


    Auspicious numbers included: 13, the months of the Tzolk¡¯in calendar; 18, the months of the Haab¡¯ Solar Calendar; 20, the days in each month; 52, the meeting of the Tzolk¡¯in and Haab¡¯ Solar Calendar every 52 years, symbolizing the beginning of the next cycle; 140, the days it took for corn to mature, often used for major harvest ceremonies.


    200, a traditional base number, units of Samurai squads. 260, the days in the Tzolk¡¯in calendar; 365, the days in the Haab¡¯ Solar Calendar; 400, the number of siblings of the evil Moon Goddess and the night; 584, the synodic period of Venus, symbolizing great disasters; 800, this was an extremely rare sacrificial number, typically only used once every 52 years in a year of destruction. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In fact, over the decade or so that Xiulote had experienced, the sacrificial rituals of the various Mexica city-states were very restrained, each rite elaborate and symbolic. Sacrifices to the War God with weapons, to the Rain Divine with water, to the Fire God with fire, to the Earth Mother Goddess with stones, to the Corn God with flesh and blood, and to the God of Death with skin.


    During the fifty years of the rise of the Mexica people, the total number of sacrifices would not exceed twenty thousand. This was not like the later Spanish records, those tens of thousands of bloodshed and cruelty. Such exaggerated descriptions, either to argue the natural legality of Spanish conquest, flaunting the civilization they brought to the natives, or simply poor math skills of illiterate soldiers.


    In Xiulote¡¯s view, the essence of these widespread sacrifices resembled an artificial adjustment to the Malthusian population trap, to lessen the contradiction between finite land output and infinite population growth, akin to the cycle of governance and chaos in the Celestial Empire.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze shifted from the War God Hall. He heard a woman¡¯s "woo woo" crying and the delightful tinkling of her ornaments. Consequently, he looked towards the Rain God Hall of the same standard. Two hundred sixty Otomi girls were alternating between crying and dancing in front of the Rain God Hall.


    260 was the days in the Tzolk¡¯in calendar. 365 and 260, Samurai and girls. Undoubtedly, these girls were also part of the sacrifices. The Rain Divine would receive sacrifices through water. These girls, captured from the early stages of the Otomi wars, underwent more than a year of lengthy ceremonial training, allowing them to face death calmly.


    Today, they would wear magnificent but light garments, singing hymns praising the harvest and the Rain God, presenting the most beautiful and final dance to the great Rain Divine.


    The girls embodied the smile and fury of the Rain Divine Tlaloc. Their arms waved like floods, their stances undulated like hail, their delicate feet spun like storms, while their faces continuously cried, symbolizing the precious downfall of rain. When dusk came, they would take a boat to the center of the holy lake in Texcoco, where they would gracefully sink to the bottom of the lake, peacefully silent forever. Sacrificed to water.


    In such sacred ceremonies, sacrifices needed prolonged and professional training to perform the beautiful rituals under the pressure of death. This was also the reason why the scale of sacrifices among the Mexica was not extensive.


    Xiulote closed his eyes slightly, sighing at the fate that was bound to happen, lamenting the greed of the Mexica divine beings. The cries for religious reform in his heart grew ever stronger. Time passed in cheers and chanting, until an applause came along.


    He opened his eyes and saw the familiar figure, the giant Samurai Stanley. He was clad in sturdy leather armor, his head adorned with a solid Eagle Beast Helmet, draped in a magnificent Eagle Feather Garment. In his right hand was a sharp war club, and in his left, a wooden shield woven with vines and feathers, towering in front of the Rain God Hall.


    Opposite Stanley stood a middle-aged Otomi Samurai only wearing cloth shorts, holding a blunt wooden stick. This was the highest-ranking noble among the captured Otomi, possessing the noblest lineage.


    Xiulote then understood that the ritual of the duel was about to begin. This ceremony should have been held in the Temple of the God of Death, but for the king¡¯s coronation ceremony, it was instead conducted in the most conspicuous Rain God Hall, adding more spectacular elements to the ritual. The senior priests were actually quite flexible in their religion, their faith more of a tool.


    "I am Stanley, a noble of the Royal Family of Tenochtitlan!" Stanley bowed, placing his war club on his shield. His figure was still imposing.


    "I am Oyet, a divine descendant noble from the city of Xilotepec!" Oyet also bowed, placing his wooden stick across his front.


    "You are my beloved son," Stanley said solemnly to Oyet. It was a centuries-old ritual, also a tribute to fearless Samurai.

 Chapter 157 - 96: The Coronation Ceremony: Song and Dance, Sacrifices, Light, and Blood_5

    "You are my beloved father," Oyet said seriously, looking at Stanley to convey his respect for the opposing samurai.


    The two began their duel immediately. However, the disparity in strength and equipment predetermined the outcome of the duel from the very start.


    To make the fight as long and spectacular as possible, Stanley continually defended during the lengthy prelude. Occasionally, Oyet¡¯s war club would strike Stanley¡¯s leather armor, creating a loud bang, and Stanley would wince in feigned pain. Cheers and praises echoed from beneath the temple.


    Oyet was indeed an elite warrior. He continually shifted his footwork, attacking Stanley¡¯s unprotected right side. Stanley simply used his war club to block or sidestepped to defend with his shield. Meanwhile, Otomi maidens danced gracefully around them, their light steps weaving. At times they whispered mournfully of life¡¯s ephemeral nature, and at other times, they sang loudly in praise of the samurai¡¯s bravery.


    The samurai¡¯s fortitude and the maidens¡¯ gentleness, the intensity of combat and the smoothness of the dance, merged perfectly together. Inspired poets on the square burst into loud praises and recitations.


    "I yearn for the samurai¡¯s bloom to never wither! Where can I find such beautiful flowers and melodious tunes? I search under the eyes of the divine, but the earth will never spawn a gentle spring!"


    A poet, overwhelmed with emotion, sang while tears involuntarily slid down his cheeks.


    "His resolve never falters; he longs to die under the blaze of an obsidian blade, a brilliant burst of flowers! He dares to endure the dark fragrance, both fresh and sweet!"


    Another poet¡¯s praise rose, accompanied by the cheers of the crowd before the Great Temple.


    A samurai¡¯s stamina is always limited, just as flowers bloom only briefly. Soon, when Oyet could no longer strike, Stanley stopped defending. He attacked like a tempest, slicing countless shallow wounds on Oyet, whose movements gradually slowed from blood loss. Then Stanley swiftly slashed across Oyet¡¯s throat and quickly raised his shield, where flowers of blood blossomed.


    At this most thrilling moment, cheers erupted from beneath the temple, reaching a fever pitch! Maidens collapsed on Oyet¡¯s gradually cooling body, weeping for the passing of the samurai and their own fates. The faint scent of the maidens mixed with the warrior¡¯s fresh blood¡ªthis was the beauty and death of the Mexica.


    The heart-stopping duel ended; Stanley glanced at King Aweit quietly sitting inside the War God Hall. He bowed respectfully in that direction, then along with the priests, carried Oyet¡¯s body away. The procession through the capital was next.


    Behind him, the maidens sang in tears, "Rain Divine, may your tears water the earth to let all things thrive, while we lie buried beneath!"


    The samurai¡¯s ritual had not started yet; the Heavenly Divine¡¯s procession was underway. From Tlatelolco¡¯s North City, a cheering procession approached, accompanied by the tune of clay flutes and conch shells, alongside the singing of priests.


    The procession lifted a wooden platform high above, upon which stood a strikingly handsome young boy. He was dressed in the garb of a deity and played a beautiful flute. Seeing the yellow headband on his head and the glittering Obsidian Mirror on his body, Xiulote knew in his heart: this was the incarnation of the primal Sun God Tezcatlipoca.


    Around the young boy were four beautiful girls, dressed in the attire of goddesses, nestled close to him, crying, their faces filled with love and reluctance to let go. They gently caressed the young boy¡¯s chest and tenderly kissed his handsome cheeks. All along their path, screams and heartfelt cheers erupted from the many residents of the capital.


    This was the annual festival of the primal Sun God, also integrated by the priests into the coronation ceremony of the king. The handsome young boy had taken on the role of the primal Sun God for a year. A month ago, four beautiful girls had entered his dwelling. In their poignant intimacy, he knew that the most beautiful bloom was not far off.


    Soon, the platform reached the walled enclosure of the Temple District. The young boy, playing his flute, elegantly entered amidst the throngs of young girls and spectators. His appearance captured everyone¡¯s attention. The nobility and samurai scrutinized him carefully, on this, the final day of the old deity. Meanwhile, the noble ladies sighed sorrowfully, shedding tears for the departing beauty.


    After a short moment, as the young girls lay prostrate weeping their farewells, the handsome young boy smiled and said, "Farewell forever!"


    In front of the grand blood-red Great Temple, he ascended the long stone staircase alone, breaking the flute in his hand, the ceramic issuing a clear cracking sound. The priests¡¯ song then rose, welcoming the return of the primal Sun God. The sacrifices at the War God¡¯s Temple paused momentarily, and even the young girls at the Rain God Temple stopped weeping. In this moment, he was the sole protagonist.


    "Primal Sun God, we thank you for yielding to the War God. In the name of the Sun God, welcome back to the everlasting Divine Kingdom!" Quetzal bowed respectfully, his smile as warm as a gentle spring breeze. Uguel simply nodded slightly.


    The young boy then gracefully nodded. He then removed his exquisite divine robe, revealing his perfect physique, and quietly lay on the sacrificial stone.


    "My child, soon. You will soon journey to the divine realm of the Sun, to forever bask in peace and beauty," Quetzal said with a smile, pouring a small cup of potent Holy Water into the young boy¡¯s mouth. Soon, the young boy displayed an irresistible beautiful smile, blissfully awaiting his return.


    This time, as the Obsidian Dagger swept across, there was a thunderous cheer and high, fervent devout prayers filled the air. The heart of the old deity was once again offered to the new deity. The body of the old deity received special treatment, as it would be reduced to ashes in the flames. Tomorrow, a new handsome primal Sun God would be selected again. So it goes year by year, such is the melody of the gods!


    The sacred ritual finally reached its climax. King Aweit, dressed in the full blood-red Sun ensemble, majestically emerged from the War God¡¯s Temple. The coronation was at hand!


    Xiulote stood at the level plane of the Chief Palace, reflectively observing all this unfold. In the hearts of the Mexica people, there was a deeply rooted reverence for natural and artistic beauty, and yet their military might was subject to strict social restrictions and moral governance. Thus, in the light, there alternated the blood red, and in beauty, death was celebrated. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This was the splendid yet bloody Aztec civilization! These were the Mexica people of flowers and beauty, dance and poetry, war and sacrifice, sun and blood!

 Chapter 158 - 97: Coronation Ceremony: Rituals and Tribute, The Five Mourning Attires of Mexica

    The golden Sun rose to the center of the sky, emanating its most dazzling brilliance. The original Sun had already taken its place through the sacrificial rite, and next was the blessing of the Sun God.


    Sunlight poured from the apex of the War God Hall onto the towering four-meter-tall sculpture of Huitzilopochtli, which glowed with the radiance of pure gold. Around His neck was a necklace intricately woven from hundreds of turquoise and yellow gemstones, glittering and spilling streams of light. In His right hand, He held a nearly three-meter-long silver javelin, with a brilliant blue sapphire at its tip symbolizing the power of lightning. His left hand grasped a silver shield of two meters in diameter, its outer edge inlaid with mother-of-pearl, rubies, and the feathers of the quetzal bird.


    With the Warriors, the Sun God, and the Guardian God as witnesses, Ahuizotl, clad in the bright crimson of the royal Sun King¡¯s attire, with the towering King¡¯s flag behind him, stood solemnly with an arm shield of feathers on his left arm, his hands empty, in front of the War God Hall.


    Before him stood Chief Priest Quetzal, equally adorned as a deity and solemn in expression. With both hands, Quetzal lifted the Heritage Scepter of the yellow gemstone, proclaiming loudly to the sky.


    "In the name of Huitzilopochtli, the War God, the Sun God, and the Guardian God, a new Sun has risen! The grandson of the great Montezuma I, the leviathan of Lake Texcoco, the gloriously accomplished Ahuizotl, ascends the throne as the new Tratuoani! The Sun of Mexica will shine upon His citizens once again, leading the brave and fearless Mexica to execute the will of the Guardian God, to vanquish the evil darkness, and to conquer this world!"


    Atop the Great Temple, Quetzal¡¯s chant soared and surged, followed by the loud repetition of hundreds of priests, their resplendent recitations at once shattering the heavens and earth! At this moment, all ceremonies in the Temple District ceased, the Mexica nobility and samurai stood in silence together, while foreign merchants and envoys turned pale. The world held a solemn hush, with only the declaration of the gods echoing.


    Next, Ahuizotl knelt on one knee, lifting his hands high. With a deliberate motion, Quetzal then handed the Heritage Scepter into his hands. This symbolized the divine granting of authority to the King, to rule over the lands of the Mexica people.


    Ahuizotl immediately rose and, with his right hand, lifted the Scepter high, the yellow gemstone sparkling in the sunlight. Quetzal then knelt and prostrated himself completely. This act signified the priest¡¯s loyalty to the King, following the King¡¯s will!


    The assembly of Chief Priests followed suit in prostration, then came the various feather-crowned priests, followed by the array of richly-dressed nobility, the various ranks of samurai in their cotton armor, foreign merchants and envoys, and the slaves of the Temple District.


    Messengers ran from the Temple District, shouting, "The King is enthroned, pay homage!" Hearing the shout, priests along the way shouted the same message, transmitting it all the way down to the shores of Lake Texcoco.


    In Xiulote¡¯s eyes, as the continuous shouting spread, people fell to the ground like waves emanating from the center. Residents of the entire city paused in their actions and kneeled toward the Great Temple, faces in the mud before them.


    "Hail to the King!" Quetzal chanted again. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hail to the King!" The echo rippled through layers upon layers, the shouts of hundreds of thousands scattering the clouds in the sky. From the golden statue, across the blue lake, all the way to the distant heavens!


    Witnessing the scene of countless subjects prostrating themselves, a radiant brilliance swiftly bloomed on Ahuizotl¡¯s face, flushing it with red. He stared unmoving at the capital beneath his feet and couldn¡¯t help but open his arms wide, embracing his kingdom.


    "Once there was Shang Tang, from the Di and Qiang, none dared not to feast, none dared not to serve. Such was the norm of the Shang," Xiulote mused, remembering how in ancient times Shang Tang unified the land and called a grand assembly in the Central Plains, the scene must have been like this.


    The homage went on for two full quarters of an hour until King Ahuizotl finally lifted the Chief Priest to his feet. Next, the priests brought a large brazier forward and placed it before War God Hall. A predetermined priest arrived running, a torch held high. This was the Sacred Fire relayed all the way from the summit of Mount Estrella, having been carried since dawn, arriving by noon.


    "Light the Sacred Fire, to pay homage to the Sun God!" Quetzal sang out.


    The King Ahuizotl solemnly took the Sacred Fire and lit the brazier before him. The blue flame surged instantly, and the acrid smoke rapidly dispersed. The nobility and warriors below the Great Temple cried out again and prostrated themselves. It took a while for the flames to dim, settling into a normal bright yellow.


    This was a new element added by the Priesthood after witnessing the sacrificial rites of the Tarasco people. The brazier was charged with a certain amount of sulfur for creating color and mixed with liquid fat to fuel the fire.


    Observing the awed reaction of the people, Quetzal nodded slightly, indeed, the effect was remarkable.


    "Sacrifice your flesh, to pay homage to the War God!" Quetzal continued his chant.


    Uguel came forward with an ancient obsidian dagger in both hands. Ahuizotl took the dagger, bared his left arm, and the blade began to slice slowly into the flesh. He bit down, carefully controlling the depth of the cut, then slowly drew the blade across. In just seconds, sweat poured down his face. After several seconds, a large piece of flesh was severed and flung into the fire. Ahuizotl discarded the dagger and once again lifted the Divine Staff with his right hand high in salute.


    Excitement immediately erupted atop the Great Temple. Nobles and warriors praised the King¡¯s courage and determination! In the martial society of Mexica, the King had to be a true warrior. For two hundred years, every Mexica King had practiced self-sacrifice during the coronation. The more stoic and pain-indifferent they appeared, the more they earned the reverence of the warriors!


    Only then did the Priest beside him hurry forward to tightly wrap the wound with cotton steeped in medicinal juice. The white cotton instantly turned bright red.

 Chapter 159 - 97: Coronation Ceremony: Rituals and Tribute, The Five Mourning Attires of Mexica_2

    Aweit clenched his teeth, the pain rendered him speechless. The High Priest had once suggested that he drink special holy water before the ceremony, which he flatly refused; now, he somewhat regretted that decision.


    "Release the hummingbird as tribute to the Guardian God!" Looking at the King¡¯s performance, Quetzal¡¯s face was stern, yet a smile lingered in his heart. The days were long, and he would eventually have the opportunity to make the King take the holy water. And the holy water was the perfect tool to control the King. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This was the final step. The Elder Priests handed a red hummingbird over to the King. Aweit reached out with his right hand and gently let go. The hummingbird traced a path of red lightning, soaring from the blood-red Great Temple towards the golden sun. From death to the sun, this was the destiny the Mexica believed in.


    The nobility and samurai cheered and bowed once more. The sacred steps were completed, and under the approval of the Chief Divine, King Aweit was officially enthroned!


    After the cheering of the masses, envoys from each State stepped forward in order, presenting their State¡¯s tribute. This coronation ceremony had been somewhat rushed; many tribute items were still being collected or transported to the capital. The envoys only presented symbolic gifts to the Great Temple.


    The Aztec Empire was centered around a tri-city capital, similar to the administrative organization of the Huaxia¡¯s Yin Dynasty, also fitting the Celestial Empire¡¯s concept of the "Five Domains."


    "As ordained by our ancestors: within the State is the royal domain, beyond it, the noble¡¯s domain." The entire Alliance could simply be divided into: the Royal Reserve, the Internal Domain, and the External Domain.


    The Texcoco Lake District of the three capital cities was the Royal Reserve, the remaining seven States of the Mexica were the Internal Domain. Further away, the subdued Vastec, Mistec, and Zapotecs were the External Domain, while the neighboring Tarasco, Tlaxcala, and Otomi were the border States.


    "Within a hundred li, tribute is demanded, within two hundred li knives are offered, within three hundred li straw apparels, within four hundred li millet, within five hundred li rice."


    Similar to the Huaxia¡¯s "Five Domains" era, in a Stone Age with low productivity and no large livestock, long-distance transport was extremely difficult. The Alliance¡¯s levy on tributes had to be adjusted according to distance, also varying according to the city-state¡¯s resources.


    As the High Priest Quetzal loudly declared, dozens of City Lords from the Mexica¡¯s states came forward one by one with respectful demeanors. Due to their proximity, the internal domain usually provided larger quantities of lower-cost items, more inclined to the needs of ordinary warriors and military nobility.


    The plains city-states provided a large supply of crops, including corn, beans, pumpkins, herbs, sweet peppers, and cocoa. There was also an assortment of meats, such as deer, turkeys, household rabbits, dogs, wild ducks, quail, honey, as well as river prawns and ant eggs.


    The forest city-states supplied a variety of timbers including sandalwood and pine rosin for burning, charcoal for heating, and planks for construction. Xiulote paid attention to the mentioned sturdy hardwoods like ironwood and oak, excellent materials for making high-quality longbows.


    The mountain city-states provided various stones, including obsidian for crafting stone tools, granite and volcanic rock for construction, and limestone for engineering. Alongside the stone were affordable tin ores, daily use rock salts, and high-quality clay.


    All city-states provided various cotton blankets. The sizes ranged from one meter to several meters, lavish and diverse in style. The edges of the blankets were adorned with various silks and feathers, while the blankets themselves portrayed images that reflected the aesthetic preferences of the Mexica people.


    Xiulote carefully observed, the most common motif was the symbolic skull, followed by the valiant eagle and the jaguar, then the grand sun, and the serpent symbolizing the Feathered Serpent Divine.


    The river-side city-states presented the King with blankets densely stitched with duck down, making them exceptionally soft and comfortable. Aweit touched them and nodded in satisfaction, deciding to take them back for his beloved daughter.


    The northern city-states inherited the Toltec¡¯s craftsmanship. They could weave various exquisite and luxurious garments. Typically, the front of the clothes would string bright feathers, the back embroidered with exquisite flowers, and the shoulders and hems were embedded with gleaming gold, silver, and gemstones. These garments would ultimately be awarded to the King and the wives and concubines of the nobility.


    Aweit specifically kept several small women¡¯s luxury dresses.


    The southern city-states, close to the rainforest, contributed a large amount of exotic fruits including pineapples, bananas, custard apples, chirimoyas, pomegranates, avocados, and plums. Along with the fruits came various beautiful flowers, especially potted roses that were the brightest. Some were purple, others a soft red, some white as snow, all with a rich and elegant fragrance.


    Aweit nodded and accepted them too. He planned to create an extra rose garden in Montezuma Palace, for Alisa to enjoy.


    The border city-states focused more on military equipment, their tributes were various cotton armors, shields, and javelins. The cotton armor was compressed into several dense layers, front mounted with tough crocodile skin, and the back decorated with feathers. Most shields were woven from wooden strips, or with more challenging rattan. Leather-covered wooden shields were more expensive. The drapes of the shields were attached with various colored feathers. Javelins were usually made of wood, their tips charred with fire. Advanced javelins were fitted with sharp stone blades.


    From these tribute equipments, Xiulote could discern the military readiness of the Empire¡¯s border...

 Chapter 160 - 97 Enthronement Ceremony: Rituals and Tributes, The Five Domains of Mexica_3

    The Vastec were the most loyal vassals of the Empire. They cherished music, art, and dance, and were not adept at warfare. Due to settling in the warm tropical plains and their custom of scant clothing, the Vastec sent a tribute of one hundred young girls skilled in song and dance. The maidens wore simple attires that were blushingly revealing, adorned with tempting shell ornaments, walking with the rhythm and melody of music.


    The Mistec were somewhere between loyalty and disloyalty. They were the people of the clouds, excelling in crafting exquisite gold and silver jewelry and were the finest precious metal artisans. The Mistec¡¯s tribute consisted of pure gold headbands, pure silver earrings, gilded stone tools, and gold and silver necklaces inlaid with turquoise.


    The Zapotecs, being the farthest away, showed the lowest loyalty. They, too, claimed to be spirits of the clouds, but were influenced by Maya culture, using a script similar to that of the Maya. The Zapotec tribute was multiple loads of ground rouge from cochineal insects or red mangrove trees. They also brought tropical flowers.


    Then it was the turn of the neighboring tributaries. Their gifts were self-declared as "congratulatory presents," proclaimed as tributes.


    Cholula was the Holy City of the Nava religion, and thus, with its special status, was at the forefront. Their Envoys also represented the Tlaxcala people who refused to bow their heads and send emissaries. The tribute from the Cholula City-State was an exquisitely carved War God statue of jade and the bows and arrows of the Tlaxcala people, wrapped in beautifully patterned silk threads.


    The envoy from the Tarasco stood out among the envoys of the Mexica. He stood tall and proud, half menacingly, presenting sharp bronze Battle Axes, sturdy Bronze Helmets, and even solid Bronze Armor. Aweit weighed the Bronze War Armor in his hands and smiled slightly. The craft of the armor was still immature; it was too heavy and not suitable for large-scale warfare.


    The Totonac integrated some part of the Toltec people and also inherited the remains of the Olmec civilization. Their attire was quite simple, wearing monochrome robes. The Totonac¡¯s gifts were an ancient Olmec mask from hundreds of years ago, along with beautiful seashells, conches, corals, and bags of pearls from the seaside.


    Aweit carefully caressed the ancient mask before handing it over to the Priest to be properly stored. Such treasures served to connect the Mexica people with the ancient civilizations, adding legitimacy to the Alliance¡¯s conquest of the world.


    Next were the envoys of the Otomi from the contracted city of Otapan. Although Xilotepec City was still under siege, this did not prevent Otapan City from cautiously maintaining contact with the Empire. As for the Otomi nobility sacrificed today, the sacred rite of sacrifice was a homage to their noble bloodlines, seen by the Mexica Nava and others as lacking an insulting nature.


    The Otomi¡¯s gift was far simpler ¨C blankets woven from agave threads and a variety of novel animals, such as eagles from the north, red hawks, carvings, crows, wildcats, snakes, and even centipedes and scorpions. If the Otomi could traverse the deserts roamed by the Chichimec, they¡¯d be able to capture another form of tribute desperately needed by the Alliance: the North American bison. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Last were the Maya traders. As usual, they offered tobacco, spices, seashells, and plants and flowers from the East. Xiulote vaguely saw a familiar figure but couldn¡¯t be too certain. After all, the lengthy heads of the Maya, their cockscomb-like eyes, and their strange facial ornaments heavily impacted the ability to recognize their faces.


    These were the "Five Attires" of the Mexico City-State Alliance. As for the other City-State forces, they were either too scattered, only able to offer some bright feathers or too remote to have arrived in time.


    The tribute ceremony had finally come to an end. Aweit held the Divine Staff high, giving salutations to all envoys of the City-States. The envoys also respectfully kneeled on one knee to return the courtesy. Under the slightly westward-slanting sunlight, he descended the high platform of the Great Temple, with the flags of the king shimmering in the sunlight. Behind him, fully armed Samurai of his clan followed close in an entourage.


    The Samurai¡¯s tour of the city had ended; next was the grand and mighty tour of the new king. It allowed all the Citizens of the Capital City an opportunity to pay their respects to the great king.


    On the Great Temple, the call for sacrifices rang out anew, now in the voice of Uguel. The Chief Priesthood once again opened the path to the Sun God Nation, sending a procession of blue Sacrifices on their return journey.


    Atop the Chief Palace, the elder watched the coronation ceremony with a stoic face. Finally, he turned and calmly looked at Xiulote.


    "My child, are you ready?" he asked.


    Behind the elder, the Guard Captain, who was as silent as a statue, also gazed over. His left hand gripped the clay pot tightly, while his right hand rested upon the sharp Bronze Axe.

 Chapter 161 - 98: The Reform of Mexica Religion – Part 1

    ```


    Outside the Chief Palace, crowds of hundreds of thousands cheered and celebrated. The chanting of the priests accompanied by the poet¡¯s recitation, the beautiful sounds of the ocarina mixed with the thunderous rhythms of drums.


    Inside the Chief Palace, there was solemnity and silence. The gentle breeze stirred the curtains of the deities, rows of expressionless elder guards stood resolute, adhering to their duties day in and day out for decades. They had dedicated the rest of their lives to the divine and the elders.


    The elder looked at Xiulote calmly. This was a smart child; he should understand the meaning behind bringing him to watch the ceremony. This was also an unknown child, and the elder hoped he would express new insights that matched his own wishes.


    In the past dozen years, he rarely changed his original plans or gave people second chances. Or rather, the leniency shown towards Xiulote was the first since his brother¡¯s death.


    Xiulote closed his eyes in contemplation, memories flashing before him: his grandfather¡¯s messages, the murals in the corridors, the paintings in the Serpent House, sacrificial ceremonies, tribute rituals, and finally, the gaze of the elders, akin to that of the divine.


    He opened his eyes again and nodded slightly.


    "Today¡¯s ceremony is like blooming flowers. Yet beneath the flowers burns a flaming fire!"


    "The Mexica appear devout, but are in fact wavering. People rely on costly sacrificial rituals to satisfy their spiritual needs. They revere the divine, but do not love Him wholeheartedly. Once confronted with a more powerful and complete faith in a Heavenly Divine, they will surrender to foreign deities adept at manipulating hearts."


    "The Mexica City-States seem obedient but are actually loose. The alliance relies on the core military force of the capital to maintain a tribute system of high autonomy and keep the tribes united. Once struck by a powerful external force that diminishes the capital¡¯s core military strength, the alliance will fall apart."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was grave. He was articulating his understanding of the society while also describing the real destiny that would unfold in the future.


    Upon hearing this, the elder¡¯s expression changed slightly, and his brow furrowed. The Guard Captain behind him had watched the elder¡¯s expression silently the entire time, silently drawing his bronze axe from his waist.


    The elder made a slight gesture to stop him, and the Guard Captain sheathed his bronze axe once again, all without a sound. In an instant, the elder¡¯s face regained its calm. He turned and headed towards the corridor of the divine. Xiulote followed but could no longer see the elder¡¯s expression.


    "My child, continue," the elder¡¯s voice came drifting from ahead.


    "We need to unite the hearts of the Mexica, strengthen our control and integration of the City-States. We need to unify the people¡¯s consciousness and establish centralization of power!" Xiulote said firmly.


    In the long and dimly lit corridor of the divine, the elder finally came to a stop. He stood in the darkness inside, while Xiulote was placed in the light. History had arrived at the boundary where light and darkness interchanged, just like the divine themselves.


    "My child, how do you plan to do this?" the elder once again turned around. He stood in the darkness, his gaze calm.


    "Religious reform, establish a code of law. Monotheism and religious law," Xiulote said succinctly.


    The elder watched Xiulote¡¯s eyes, quietly waiting for an explanation.


    "Religious reform and monotheism. The Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli must be elevated to the status of the only Supreme God! He shall become the great and omnipotent Creator, the master of all things and the world, eternal and indestructible.


    The Chief Divine shall assume the divine duties of other deities, from thunder fire and wind and rain, mountains and rivers and flora, to time and space, prophecies of fate, from life and death, war and peace, to marriage and mourning, clothing and food, shelter and transportation... He shall merge infinite might, carrying all human hearts. He shall obscure specific images to become the ultimate concept in people¡¯s minds!


    The other deities, including the important Rain Divine, will gradually be demoted. They will become Subordinate Gods in this generation, then become Saints over the next few generations. Similarly, our ancestral spirits and distinguished individuals can also become Saints."


    In Xiulote¡¯s view, Monotheism has a strong advantage over Polytheism in spreading. Except for Huaxia with its exceptionally profound cultural heritage and India with its entrenched caste system, the entire world has already been turning towards a monotheistic faith.


    In the future, to resist the incursion of the Cross, the nascent civilization of Central America must have a theoretically complete, well-organized indigenous Monotheism to gain sufficient religious resistance.


    The elder fell into a long contemplation. He had done much on the path of elevating the War God, turning him into the Guardian God of the Mexica and then into the Sun God, endowing him with the mission of sustaining the world. Yet, Xiulote¡¯s idea of monotheism far exceeded his plans.


    It was the limitation of the era¡¯s perspective. In the ancient American civilizations¡¯ faiths, the concept of a Supreme God never existed, with no historical precedent to draw upon. In this polytheistic age, Xiulote¡¯s idea was pioneering, beyond the imagination of ordinary people. Of course, he stood on the shoulders of the entire world.


    The elder said nothing. He simply continued to walk forward, and Xiulote followed silently. The quiet darkness enveloped them both. Even the divine had become mere instruments of mortals.


    After a while, the elder asked again.


    "My child, your vision surpasses that of mortals. I wish to hear more details."


    Xiulote thought for a moment before revealing his inner thoughts.


    "With the religious reform, the Supreme God is almighty, and He does not need sacred blood and flesh to maintain the operations of the world. Therefore, I wish to abolish the sacrifices of life."


    Once again, the elder stopped. He stood in a corner without candlelight, calmly gazing at Xiulote. However, Xiulote felt a heavy pressure and a chilling coldness.


    "Child, the Mexica need war; they must conquer the world," once more, the address changed.


    Xiulote steadily gazed into the darkness. He explained calmly.


    ```


    "We can launch a holy war. Against those who do not believe in the Supreme God, the Samurai will also fight for the spirits! The purpose of the war is assimilation, not sacrifice."


    Xiulote understood that sacrifices in Central America had the effect of regulating population. But he believed that under his leadership, the Aztec civilization would soon enter the great developmental stages of the Bronze Age, the Iron Age, and then the colonization of the vast Americas. Population would become the most important resource.


    Besides, the diseases of the Old World were coming. The American civilizations needed enough people to withstand the devastation of disease.


    The elder was non-committal. He pondered the concept of "holy war," gradually putting away his intention to kill. After a while, he spoke in a faint voice.


    "My child, the Samurai need more spiritual motivation to conquer the vast world. Only after victory can the Samurai put down their war clubs."


    "Now, tell me, how will you unify consciousness, gather the hearts of the people?"


    Xiulote pondered. He closed his eyes again, drawing on past memories, on the Monotheism of history, to find those fragments that fit with reality, and took a long time before he opened his eyes again.


    "We will use religion to gather the hearts of the people. Religion must occupy the hearts of the faithful, satisfying all their desires."


    "The first step in religious reform is to depict a beautiful hereafter, to perfect the world after death. We will incorporate our existing Red Kingdom, Sun God Nation, the Land of Death, and the legends of the Samurai souls becoming birds and flowers. Let the pious ascend to Heaven, rewarding those who die for the gods with blessings, while sinners sink into the Land of Death."


    In Mexica mythology, different realms of death exist. Brave Samurai ascend to the Sun God Nation, warriors, and women who die in childbirth go to the peaceful Red Kingdom, those who drown go to the Rain Divine¡¯s Divine Kingdom, while the rest head to the Land of Death, Mictlan. Mictlan has nine levels of Hell, with chilling winds as sharp as knives, unending darkness in the first eight levels, with only Wealth and the lives of slaves able to protect the souls of the dead.


    This Polytheistic faith needs to be re-integrated to more effectively occupy the hearts of the faithful. Religious reforms must establish the desire for Heaven and the fear of Hell, guiding people¡¯s behavior and thoughts.


    The elder nodded imperceptibly. He remained silent in the darkness.


    "Religious reform, the meaning of faith is the pursuit of goodness. We must promote self-cultivation, combining existing moral customs, guiding people toward beauty and kindness, as they long for flowers. Teach people to follow one God, be benevolent, righteous, polite, wise, trusting... all the virtues we hope for."


    The elder was expressionless. If there was anything that the Mexica people commonally pursued, it was the bravery in battle and the blossoming in death; benevolence was clearly not included.


    "Religious reform requires a system of confession. Now, Mexica people have one chance to confess to the God of Sin, seeking penance to absolve their sins. We need to extend the system of confession, taking back the power of absolution into the hands of the Supreme God. No longer limit the frequency of confession and reform, thereby allowing the Priesthood to control the hearts of the faithful more."


    Xiulote thought of the powerful system of confession in the Cross ceremony and the practices of the historical Church and then added.


    "The secrets of these confessions should be carefully kept by the Priests. Important confession information needs to be recorded and handed over to the high-ranking Priesthood, thereby having a stronger grasp on society and the populace."


    The elder pondered slightly. Daily confession? The power of the Priests would undoubtedly expand. The control of divine power would be strengthened.


    "Religious reform requires a system of pilgrimage. The Great Temple in the Capital City is selected as the Holy Temple, requiring every faithful to make regular pilgrimages. The frequency of pilgrimages would decrease with distance, but one must make at least one pilgrimage to obtain redemption in the hereafter."


    "The Alliance has no strong control over distant City-States. The speed of transit limits the frequency of communication. We need an effective system of exchange to enhance our control over distant people while influencing faraway City-States."


    Xiulote analyzed the role of pilgrimage. In an era where technological levels are limited, to strengthen the cohesion of the Alliance, it was essential not to let City-States satisfy all their religious needs independently. Historical pilgrimage to the Holy Temple has always been a part of various religions, possessing an irreplaceable role.


    "Religious reform also needs daily rituals. These could combine existing harvest prayers, divine blessing ceremonies, simplified and improved, to form a stable system. For example, three times a day, set before meals and before sleeping. Twice a month, set on the tenth day."


    Daily rituals are also meant to occupy the hearts and time of the faithful. Due to food limitations, ordinary people have two meals a day, plus sleep time, which makes three rituals. And according to the prevalent Mayan Calendar, every 20 days a month, there could be a grand ritual every ten days.


    The elder finally nodded again.


    "My child, your ideas are good. The Alliance needs to further control the City-States and the hearts of the people. Whatever you think of, continue."


    With that, the elder stepped forward, heading down to the palace¡¯s underground.


    Xiulote followed, pondering again. He hesitated slightly but still spoke frankly.


    "Religious reform, collecting taxes in the name of God. The Alliance lacks control over the Great Nobility and the Lords of the City-States, hardly interfering with their taxation and private armies. We need to tax the wealthy Nobility and merchants, providing relief to the poor civilians and Samurai. Weaken the Great Nobility, nurture civilian Samurai, maintaining a balance of class." S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The elder paused in his steps. He frowned again but did not look back. The idea was good, but if put into practice, depriving the Great Nobility of their benefits would inevitably lead to wielding the Bronze Axe, with heads rolling.


    "My child, have you thought of the future?"


    The elder¡¯s words floated from the candlelight ahead, emotionless.


    Xiulote was slightly startled. Gazing at the feeble candlelight, looking at the elder¡¯s blurry and tall silhouette, he asked himself:


    "What should the future of religious reform look like?"

 Chapter 162 - 99: The Reform of Mexica Religion – Part 2

    The candlelight flickered, casting unpredictable shapes, and the shadows beneath it did the same, only longer and darker. A slight alteration at the upstream of religion and law could cause the future of the nation and society to surge tumultuously.


    At this moment, Xiulote thought of many things. For instance, the Pope could command, and the hundred thousand Holy Legions would respond, marching eastward mightily. Or capturing the Cross Missionaries to prohibit the spread of foreign gods. Priests could also monitor the Alliance with spies infiltrating everywhere. There were also devout believers coming from all over America to pray every day, accompanied by the glow of thousands of lamps and the common tolling of bells...


    Going a step further, if one day someone became both King and Pope, they would possess the supreme authority of combined political and religious power. Even, he recalled the millennium-long opposition between green and red, the civil wars and killings between the crescent Nobility and the Priesthood...


    But this was all a future far off. Religious reform couldn¡¯t be accomplished overnight; it always required generations, decades of time for gradual evolution.


    Xiulote pondered for a long time but merely described it simply: "Dozens of years from now, the Mexica will have a cohesive religious faith, forming a multi-ethnic state unified by beliefs, just like a clay figure shaped and formed through high-temperature firing and time¡¯s solidification.


    The world will share common scripts and laws, society operating under the guidance of religious regulations. After long periods of settling, repeated setbacks, and changes in clans, a unified conceptual nation will form, achieving a true grand unification."


    Xiulote reflected on the past of the Celestial Empire. Huaxia¡¯s unification had gone through the bloody changes of the Qin Dynasty and the establishment of civil laws in the Han Dynasty, taking hundreds of years to fully form. Among them, the First Emperor played an indispensable role. He laid all the foundations, truly deserving the title of Huaxia¡¯s ancestral dragon.


    "The future state must maintain a careful balance of power among the different social classes. The influence of the Priesthood will expand rapidly, but a limit must be set to maintain a check on power. This check comes mainly from the emerging Samurai groups, primarily the military Nobility and commoner Samurai. The Priesthood should also divide into two factions, one focused on faith and the other on administration."


    The Royal Family must become the leader of both Priests and Samurai while carefully maintaining the balance between them, suppressing the influence of one side. At the same time, both the Priesthood and Samurai groups must open up channels for commoners to ascend, promoting from within the common people to maintain fresh blood within the ruling class. Especially, the hereditary transmission of priests should be reduced.


    In simple terms, it¡¯s about class balance, power checks. Commoner promotion, weakening of bloodline. One hand wields the sword, the other holds Scripture."


    In Xiulote¡¯s design, the development of the Priesthood should be similar to that of the Huaxia scholar-officials, dividing into the scholarly faction and the administrative faction. They must control the hearts of people while limiting power. The Samurai groups represent the emerging non-noble landlords, providing a solid guarantee of military force. And when the economy is sufficiently developed, there will also emerge a merchant and citizen class to provide a balance. No single class should become too large and rigid, impeding the ongoing needs for reform.


    Of course, to suppress the priestly class, the King must have enough prestige and tact.


    The elder, silent for a while, finally turned around. He looked at the youth once more. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My child, you seem to have forgotten some people."


    Xiulote shook his head, gnashing his teeth slightly, and declared solemnly.


    "Princes are a hidden danger to the Alliance. They have no loyalty to the Royal Family and must be eradicated! The Great Nobility class holds too much wealth and manpower and must be weakened and suppressed as much as possible! At least within a ten-day journey from the Capital City, we should be able to govern the City-States directly, not autonomously."


    Xiulote remembered the rebellion of the Tlacopan and Texcoco princes at the arrival of the Spanish. They directly tied up most of the Alliance¡¯s military strength. External princes should never be spared! Similarly, weakening hereditary Great Nobility, cultivating non-noble landowners, and commoner Priests was also the core of reform and change.


    The elder was silent for a moment, then shook his head slightly. A skilled ruler would set many preparations in advance, and then take advantage of the situation, inserting a sharp knife into the crevices of the bone to flexibly butcher the target.


    The elder taught as he walked slowly ahead.


    "My child, do not rush. You should eat your food one bite at a time, walk your road one step at a time. And naturally, you also eliminate the rats in the fields one nest at a time. Tell me about your new Priesthood system."


    Xiulote nodded and followed slowly. He only knew the general direction of the reforms and didn¡¯t have a starting point yet.


    "The Priesthood needs to establish a strict hierarchy. The lowest level are the community priests in cities and villages. They should have the right to interpret Scriptures and regulations, adjudicate daily disputes, mobilize Samurai and Militia, and collect religious taxes. They are responsible for educating commoners and farmers, organizing ten-day Rituals, and are the roots of the Heavenly Divine Tree."


    In Mexica¡¯s villages and communities, it¡¯s generally managed by a council of four. One of them is a priest, one is a local Nobility representative, one is a Samurai, and one is the leader of local self-governance. Currently, for non-directly governed City-States, the central Alliance lacks a sensible jurisdiction, only able to control through the power of the religious Priests.


    The system of Civil Officials is far off, with cultural monopoly held by High Priests and Great Nobility; one has to choose between a divine or noble system. It requires a long period of administrative reform and cultural accumulation before there¡¯s a foundation to train administrative Officials to replace the local Nobility.


    The elder pondered for a moment. Revenue, manpower, regulation, indoctrination. These local priests needed to compete with the Great Nobility, who owned villages, for grassroots control.

 Chapter 163 - 99: The Reform of Mexica Religion – Part 2

    "Just above is the City Priest, responsible for a city and its nearby villages. The Priest of the Ecclesiastical Province, who is in charge of a complete region including several cities and villages. The establishment of an ecclesiastical province requires the approval of the central authority. The Priest of the Ecclesiastical Province can then be referred to as the High Priest, corresponding to specific states. Mexica with its Eleven States could then have eleven High Priests."


    Several ecclesiastical provinces united form a general ecclesiastical province, and the priest in charge is the Supreme High Priest. If there is a significant important city, it can also be separately established as an equal-level Capital High Priest, to prevent the Supreme High Priest from becoming too powerful. Currently, it seems Mexica with its Eleven States can establish one General Ecclesiastical Province Supreme High Priest."


    Above the general ecclesiastical province is the highest regional unit, the Ecclesiastical Province. The leader of an Ecclesiastical Province is the Supreme High Priest, who completely holds the religious authority over a region. In the future, once the Tarasco people are conquered, a higher Mexica Ecclesiastical Province can be established above the Mexica General Ecclesiastical Province and the Tarasco General Ecclesiastical Province."


    Village and community priests, city priests, priests of ecclesiastical provinces, supreme high priests and capital high priests, top high priests. The regional Five-Level Executive Body largely comes from Xiulote¡¯s memory of the ¡¯Cross¡¯ structure, which had withstood the test of a millennium.


    The elder nodded slightly. The religious regional divisions would also be the future national divisions. Although the Alliance had not yet established a clearly ranked nation, similar planning had already been pondered many times in his mind. This child¡¯s plan, however, was even more grand and bold." sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Starting from the priest of the ecclesiastical province, the appointment and dismissal powers will be decided by the Central Church. Therefore, a Three-Level Central Priesthood is established in the Central Church, corresponding to the candidates for High Priest, Supreme High Priest, and Top High Priest. And the outstanding city priests will be selected into the lowest level of the Central Priesthood, trained centrally before being sent out to govern an ecclesiastical province."


    The highest level of Central Priesthood corresponds to the current Chief Priesthood and the High Priesthood, which includes twelve Elder Priests, on par with the Supreme High Priest. "In the Cross Religion, cardinals and archbishops are candidates for the Pope."


    Xiulote reflected for a moment and did not mention an even higher level, the Pope. Undoubtedly, the highest religious authority currently lay in the elder¡¯s hands. He simply reiterated the promotion mechanism again."


    "The eyes of God are impartial. The Five-Level Clergy should ascend in sequence; all high priests must have experience shepherding villages and communities. The clergy is open to excellent commoners, striving to maintain balance in promotions."


    Towards commoners, this was the most crucial method to maintain the vitality of the priesthood. In the Middle Ages in Europe, the church was almost the only place where commoners could rise above their stations and change their class. Of course, now there was the addition of the grand sailing adventures."


    "According to the priestly system of Mexica, priests must dedicate themselves entirely to God. All levels of priests are forbidden from having formal marriages. Offspring of priests do not inherit any religious status."


    Xiulote knew that, regardless of the religion in the world, the regulations prohibiting marriage and status inheritance for those truly in power, the high priests, were often merely nominal. Ten years later, Alexander VI would succeed as Pope in Rome. The Borgia family would thoroughly destroy the reputation of the church and ignite the fuse of the Reformation."


    However, such articles had to be written into the priestly regulations, trying to curb the corruption of the priesthood as much as possible, and also provide a basis for further reforms for future generations."


    The elder fell into deep contemplation. The present and the future continuously played out and intersected in his mind."


    "After my death, there will be a Pope to lead the religion."


    Thinking this, the elder looked deeply at Xiulote. After a long while, he spoke calmly.


    "Child, everything you said needs a Code of Law. I would like to hear you speak of the Code of Law once more."


    A faint hint of menace confronted him, and Xiulote felt a chill run through his heart. He pondered long before responding carefully."


    "Mexica society needs a religious Code of Law. The source of the Code of Law is divine revelation, not accumulated case law. The characteristic of the Code of Law is its integration of moral requirements, regulating the lives of the faithful."


    "The content of the religious Code of Law encompasses three aspects: it stipulates the order between humans and God, the order between humans and society/nature, and the order between humans and themselves.


    Humans and God, that is the rituals of worship, respect for and devotion to the spirits. This needs modification from the current overly bloody and violent religious rituals, preserving the beautiful aspects."


    Humans and society refer to the guiding social regulations; criminal revenge, war captives, diet and lifestyle, loan interests, marital relations, property succession, and commonly practiced social moral standards."


    Mexica¡¯s excessive use of the death penalty could perhaps be appropriately reduced. Marketplace judicial authority should also be reclaimed from merchants, especially the autonomy of foreign merchants. Property laws could integrate the existing regulations, further refining them."


    Humans and nature, that is the regulation of fishing, hunting, gathering, gardens, and zoos, Holy Mountain, and Holy Lake."


    Humans and themselves, that is personal cultivation and restraint, similar to our Mexica tradition of frugality and restrained desires. But bloody gambling should be prohibited."


    In Xiulote¡¯s view, Mexica society, with its simple customs and profound reverence for the divine, held exceptionally strict ordinances, and the populace was constantly overshadowed by death. Countless customs dictated the death penalty: death for adulterers, thieves, dress code violators, public drunkenness a second time, corrupt judges, cheating merchants, rebellious slaves, disruptors of religious rites, trespassers into the Holy Mountain and Holy Lake... Such practices were very similar to the harsh penalties of the Qin Dynasty."


    And the gambling supervised by judges was both orderly and uncontrolled. Whether it was ball games or dice made of beans, once betting commenced, it was common to wager all possessions and even life itself, treating death as part of the game. All this showcased the splendor and cruelty of a burgeoning civilization."

 Chapter 164 - 99: The Reform of Mexica Religion – Part 3

    However, the slaves of Mexica retained sufficient personal and property rights and had the opportunity to prosper with the assistance of their masters, more like servants and not entirely consumables.


    "Overall, the characteristics of religious law are sanctity, extensiveness, and flexibility. Its status is supreme, it governs all aspects of life, and it continually adjusts and changes with regional customs and the development of the times."


    The Elder softly pondered, chewing over the concepts of sanctity, extensiveness, and flexibility, considering God, society, nature, and mankind. After a while, he slowly nodded. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My child, we need a fundamental doctrine, both as a guide for the religion and a basis for the law."


    Xiulote nodded earnestly, but it was clearly beyond his capabilities. He could only add,


    "The fundamental doctrine is Divine Revelation, which can serve as a principal summary. This is like a towering tree trunk pointing to the sky, not overly detailed, leaving room for flexibility."


    Beyond the fundamentals, three specific sources of law can be supplemented: the teachings of the saints, the deductions of scholars, and the resolutions of the Priesthood. These are the vast and flexible branches and leaves, which specifically guide the details of law enforcement."


    The Elder contemplated the religious law Xiulote mentioned. He needed a specific compiler of execution. Two figures fluctuated in the balance of his mind. Eventually, the two figures turned into three. The Elder finally made his decision.


    Before them lay the deep underground stone house. The sculptural Guard Captain exerted himself effortlessly, and with a loud rumble, the thick stone door opened, a tiny blue snake darting frightened into the corner, dropping a frog it held in its mouth.


    "My child, you have arrived," the Elder said expressionlessly.


    Xiulote silently entered the snake house and nudged the frog on the ground with his foot. The frog moved slightly but was obviously close to death.


    With another rumble, the thick stone door closed again, plunging the snake house into pitch darkness. Soon, the little blue snake slithered over to the young man¡¯s side. It hissed softly, expressing its discontent with what lay beyond the door. Um, from the little blue snake¡¯s behavior, the Elder had already gone far.


    Xiulote leaned against the wall lost in thought. The slick, soft touch came again from his wrist, swaying and winding, gently creeping up his arm and into his warm chest, and then it comfortably stopped moving. The young man sighed and fell into a deep sleep with the little blue snake.


    When the Elder returned to the top floor of the palace, the sun had already tilted westward. The setting sun, like blood, soaked the sky in the distance, as well as the divine palace. The Elder watched the sunset, his heart gently fluctuating. He sat on God¡¯s stone seat, quietly waiting for the darkness. Behind him, the sculptural Guard Captain held the fate-bearing pottery jar.


    Atop the Great Temple, a day¡¯s worth of priestly chanting had finally ended. The High Priesthood stepped off the stone steps with composed expressions, their feet stained with congealed crimson. The Elder Priests bid each other farewell and went to rest. A day¡¯s sacrifice was exhausting, leaving their arms sore. Uguel gave Quetzal a slight bow and then shuffled away.


    Quetzal smiled, admiring the sunset at the horizon, longing for the sunrise of tomorrow. He waited a moment. Soon, a loyal priest came from the north, hands bearing a blood-dripping wooden box.


    Quetzal opened it to find a fine severed head, its expression dignified and reluctant, as lifelike as ever. Seeing the old friend, the Chief Priest¡¯s smile grew even warmer. He casually closed the wooden box and, escorted by the War Priests, set off directly toward the East.

 Chapter 165 - 100 Scouting Ahead

    The setting sun bathed the city of White Stone, casting magnificent shadows over the pristine white walls, mirroring the fates of the noble.


    In the eastern part of the Lake Capital City, on the outskirts of the palace district, there stood a broad mansion with a red roof and white walls, close to the ferry port that led to the east of the capital. Within half a day¡¯s distance, one could board a canoe and travel to the city of Texcoco on the eastern shores of Lake Texcoco.


    The mansion was rare with its two stories, exceeding the commoner¡¯s regulations. Dozens of rooms and halls were neatly arrayed, solemn and imposing. The south-facing residence was spacious and bright, adorned with patterns of obsidian and volcanic rock, which belonged to the master of the house.


    Behind the main house was a platform as tall as the house itself, with long wooden benches meant for the Mexica nobility¡¯s favored pastimes of sunbathing and cooling off. In a corner of the mansion, there was a specially made toilet covered with straw and lime plaster, where incense burned at the entrance.


    At this moment, a gracefully dressed young man was reclining on the bench, watching the splendid but fleeting sunset, reflecting on past glories. His face wore a gentle melancholy, and his eyes sparkled with reminiscence.


    "The coronation of the Mexica king, what an immense and glorious ceremony it was! Today, I remember you, Coyote, my great father. If I were to meet you again, across the long years, with the brilliant twilight, how could I speak to you? With silence, with tears, with sighs... The lost glory of Texcoco, forever unforgettable."


    Next to the young man was a middle-aged samurai, his face showing resolve.


    "Respected King, we shall surely revive the city-state and lead the alliance! The people of Tenochtitlan have once again plunged into cruel civil war, their brutal rule will not last long. The old thief will eventually die!"


    Hearing the samurai¡¯s words, the young man nodded slightly. Then, he solemnly sat up, his eyes twinkling with determination.


    "In front of outsiders, do not call me king, I am merely a prince now."


    The middle-aged samurai, filled with indignation, blushed and lowered his voice to shout.


    "The people of Tenochtitlan are merely one of the three factions that formed the alliance. They are savage tribes stranded on an island, rebellious vassals who betray their suzerain, how can they compare with the people of Texcoco who have a cultural legacy spanning three hundred years! Our great library contains millennium-old wooden mural paintings, and the poetry of the kings through the ages surpasses all others! Back then, we did not succumb to the Tepanec, and we will not bow to the Tenochtitlan people now!"


    The young man also straightened his spine, his expression solemn and studious.


    "You are right! We shall rise again! Time treats all mortals equally, even the immortal sun will eventually die. Now, uncle still controls eight thousand warriors of the city-state. We just need to persevere quietly, and we will wait for our future opportunity!"


    After speaking, the two looked at each other for a long time, their firm beliefs burning in their eyes.


    Just then, a retainer hurriedly rushed over from the main hall.


    "Respected Prince, the Chief Priest of the alliance is visiting, currently waiting in the great hall. Please go to meet him." Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Prince of Texcoco instantly restrained all his sharpness, transforming into a vulnerable, gentle young man. He nodded to the samurai and walked steadily towards the great hall. Shortly, the Chief Priest, adorned with a Feather Crown, appeared before him holding a Divine Staff in one hand and a red-bottomed wooden box in the other.


    "Respected Prince Biril, fasting prince, in the name of the Guardian God, I salute you!" Quetzal smiled warmly.


    "Respected Chief Priest, descendant of Acolhua greets you, welcome! What can I do for you?" Prince Biril bowed slightly, expressing respect to the spokesperson of the god.


    Quetzal paused, then sighed softly.


    "I am here on an immortal elder¡¯s orders to inform you of a tragedy. Uncle Tlotrol lost the supply line, leading to the failure of the siege of Otapan, an unforgivable fault. He felt guilt and has already sacrificed himself during the coronation, bearing the deserved responsibility. This is his head."


    Saying this, Quetzal handed the red-bottomed wooden box to Biril, his hands stained red with blood.


    Upon hearing this, Biril trembled violently. He struggled to open the wooden box and saw the unwilling and angry face of his uncle. After a moment, he decisively closed the box, his eyes brimming with tears.


    Quickly, Biril gathered his tears. Suppressing his anger, his face expressionless, he bowed again in thanks to Quetzal and then turned back to place the wooden box in the center of the sacrificial altar in the main hall.


    Using this gesture, Biril quickly contemplated his next move. When he turned around again, his face was full of tears. He seemed unable to control his body, immediately falling onto the stone table, bowing his head to cover his expressions, and then began to sob loudly.


    Quetzal, too, looked on with a sorrowful expression, nodding slightly in his heart. Although Prince Biril was only eighteen, he was quite clever. At this moment, it was neither appropriate to show too much outrage nor to be too enduring, pretending nothing had happened. Sobbing was indeed the best option.


    "It seems, Prince Biril is indeed a fine match for marriage. He could also restrain King Aweit." Quetzal thought to himself and then comforting spoke kindly.


    "Respected Prince, uncle Tlotrol by his noble self-sacrifice has cleansed all his wrongdoings. He shall return to the Divine Kingdom of the Sun to continue fighting for the light! There¡¯s no need for excessive grief, Your Highness. The elder has no intention to continue blaming you."


    Quetzal gave a slight smile, his face beaming like spring.


    "In the kingdom of gods, Uncle Tlotrol will continue to bless you. I hear you are yet unwed, Your Highness. I have a niece, fourteen years old, calm and graceful, not yet promised to anyone. Would you consider, under the blessing of the Guardian God, taking her under your wing to teach her the poetry of Texcoco?"

 Chapter 166 - 100 Exploring the Way_2

    Quetzal sighed inwardly as he thought of this. Kapana was still too disobedient. As the legitimate wife of Biril, she was indeed a suitable match. However, at this moment, Prince Biril was at a low point. He should be able to accept, taking his own grandniece as his wife.


    Biril pondered quickly, somewhat surprised and amazed by the Chief Priest¡¯s goodwill. He mused for a moment. It seemed there was indeed a rift between Aweit and the Chief Priest. Since proposing marriage to Aweit was unsuccessful, allying with the Chief Priest¡¯s lineage was certainly a prime choice. It was just unfortunate that she was not a direct granddaughter.


    Biril then composed himself and respectfully saluted the Chief Priest, "If the Chief Priest is willing to extend such kindness, it must be the blessing of my uncle¡¯s noble spirit. That is indeed very good. Once I have buried my uncle with full honors, I will visit again to request the friendship of flowers and birds."


    Quetzal nodded with a warm smile. He was increasingly pleased as he watched the changes in Biril¡¯s expression.


    Soon, a servant brought forth a vivid red cocoa drink. Biril drank a cup first, conveying the Warrior¡¯s blessing, then asked, "Your Excellency the Chief Priest, this is cocoa specially prepared by Texcoco. Would you care to try a cup?"


    Quetzal glanced at the cocoa, mixed with unknown spices, and smiled slightly. As a Master of Alchemy specialized in poisons, how could he drink a beverage of unknown origins. Especially since not long ago, he had sacrificed Uncle Telol on the orders of the elders.


    "Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness. However, as Priests, we only drink the divine-given Holy Water and cannot appreciate the essence of cocoa. If Your Highness is interested, I could bring you some Holy Water from the Great Temple to taste next time. It is a truly divine and delightful substance."


    Biril smiled in gratitude. The two then conversed amiably, with a vivid red wooden box beside them. Inside the box lay the quiet listening head of Telol.


    A short time later, Prince Biril respectfully escorted Chief Priest Quetzal out.


    "Let your uncle¡¯s head be worshiped by you first, letting his soul ascend deeply into the Divine Kingdom. After two days, I will return to retrieve the noble¡¯s head."


    Biril¡¯s expression darkened and he nodded in agreement.


    The two parted reluctantly. Afterwards, Biril turned back to the main hall. In front of the middle-aged Samurai who had arrived promptly, he drew a Dagger, cut his own arm, and began sobbing all over again.


    "My beloved uncle, you were cruelly slaughtered, and my heart aches as if cut by knives! The undying old villain, not even sparing the last of the military power, I vow not to coexist with him!"


    The middle-aged Samurai also teared up, holding back his sorrow, "King, should we set off immediately, return to the City of Texcoco, and mobilize the Samurai and the Militia, just in case?"


    Biril pondered for a moment, then shook his head. "The Samurai are not under our control; rising up now would be hopeless. Since the old villain sent Quetzal to probe me, it seems he harbors no intent to kill. Quetzal¡¯s willingness to enter into this alliance also confirms this intent.


    To slaughter a Great General under a baseless charge has already displeased the Nobility. Moreover, to kill a prince without any charges? The old villain would not make such a reckless move. Let us complete the Sacrificial Rites for my uncle, return the head, then cross the lake back home,"


    The middle-aged Samurai nodded respectfully. Then, a servant brought flowers and together they paid respects to Telol¡¯s head, encircling it with flowers. They chanted the Sacrificial Rite¡¯s poetry, bidding farewell to the departed soul with fresh flowers and crimson.


    Leaving the Prince¡¯s Mansion, under the protection of the War Priest¡¯s Escort, Quetzal headed straight for the Chief Palace. All the orders from the elders had been fulfilled, and his plan was progressing steadily. Now, his only concern was the wise child from the Xutel Family. High Priest Xutel must have been hurrying on the road day and night, perhaps already having reached the Capital.


    "We cannot delay any longer, for delays lead to changes," Quetzal thought, gazing at the changing shadows on the white walls outside the palace. As the sun just set, those shadows turned to darkness, as did the fate of the noble.


    The Chief Priest ascended the long staircase and stepped into the hall of firelight and candlelight. The elder sat silently on his stone seat, gazing towards the dark western sky, with the sculpted figure of the Guard Captain behind him.


    "Respected elder, the coronation ceremony has been completed. Telol of the Nesaval Family has been sacrificed, and his head has been given to Prince Biril for worship. According to the Ritual, after two days when his soul ascends into the Divine Kingdom, we can hand over the army command,"


    Quetzal smiled gently, respectfully kneeling and saluting.


    The elder nodded slightly.


    "Quetzal, you have worked hard. How is Biril from the Nesaval Family?"


    Quetzal paused thoughtfully before he spoke up for Biril.


    "Prince Biril is still young. He began to feel indignant, then under my persuasion, recognized his uncle¡¯s crimes, and has been crying sadly since. In my view, he is still a child, not yet skilled in discretion, but he is not foolish."


    The elder nodded slightly again. He watched Quetzal quietly, his gaze seeming to see through everything.


    Quetzal lifted his head slightly, observing the elder¡¯s expression. After a long silence, he knelt again and saluted as he inquired.


    "Respected elder, how are the matters concerning the ¡¯Cash¡¯ to be arranged?"


    The candlelight flickered, and the bonfire leapt. The elder lowered his eyes slightly. Then, he slowly stood and walked toward the corridor of spirits.


    "Quetzal, you have followed me for thirty years now, haven¡¯t you?"


    Quetzal remained kneeling. He looked up at the elder¡¯s silhouette, elongated by the candlelight, casting shadows into his eyes.


    "Yes, elder. It¡¯s been thirty years since I graduated from the Temple ranks and joined your command. Following you, I have strived to excel in every task." Quetzal continued to respond respectfully, a foreboding feeling arising in his heart.


    "Indeed, my child. From the first time you entered the Snake House and killed a rattlesnake with your bare hands, I knew this was a child with first-rate skills, reflexes, and determination. Later, when you accompanied your older brother to assassinate the leader of a southern city-state and came to me to learn alchemy, I grew even more fond of you. After your brother died, I appointed you as chief priest, and in these thirteen years, you have never disappointed me." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The elder¡¯s tone was filled with emotion. His mood fluctuated slightly, a rarity for him to speak so much. After finishing speaking, he had already entered the dark, narrow spirit corridor, heavily guarded by the guards. Then, from the darkness, the elder¡¯s voice eerily floated back.


    "Quetzal, may I ask you one more thing?"


    Quetzal watched the elder¡¯s receding figure, listening to the elder¡¯s requesting tone, the ominous premonition in his heart rising further. He struggled to maintain a smile, his left hand tightly clasping the copper-plated Divine Staff, his right hand reaching into his bosom, grasping the poisoned dagger.


    "Respected elder, I am willing to die for you!"


    The elder finally turned around. He looked at Quetzal from a distance, facing the dim candlelight, expressionless.


    "Very well. My child, my life is not far from the Divine Kingdom. Can you help me, go explore the Divine Kingdom first?"


    Quetzal was horrified. He sprang to his feet, one hand on the Divine Staff, the other on the dagger, and charged at the elder with all his might.

 Chapter 167 - 101 Fate

    The breeze stirred the Great Temple¡¯s bonfire, swaying the departing light and shadows and dimming the last of human hearts.


    Quetzal stood up and rushed forward, but before he could take two steps, a tall shadow met him head-on, firmly blocking his path. He immediately swung the bronze staff without hesitation, smashing it towards the Guard Captain¡¯s temple.


    The Guard Captain¡¯s expression remained unchanged, his left hand still holding a clay jar. He took swift, small steps forward, maneuvering the blunt edge of his bronze axe gracefully, smashing it against Quetzal¡¯s left wrist. The Chief Priest then cried out in pain as his wrist went limp, and the Divine Staff clattered to the ground, rolling away.


    Quetzal¡¯s face hardened, and his right hand flipped forward, thrusting at the Guard Captain¡¯s abdomen. The Guard Captain once again deftly turned his bronze axe. With a clang, the axe squarely blocked the tip of the Obsidian Dagger. In the blink of an eye, two more guards pressed in from either side, sealing his fate.


    The Chief Priest¡¯s face twisted ferociously. Seeing no chance of escape, he stepped back, raised his right hand high, and forcefully threw something down the corridor. A ghostly blue dagger traced a rapid arc, shooting towards the elder. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The elder¡¯s face was calm, utterly undisturbed. A guard beside him raised a shield, and with a bang, the dagger rebounded, clinking to the ground. Quetzal immediately turned and dashed towards the Divine Staff. He dove to the ground, grabbing the last weapon, and twisted off the bronze decoration at the top, ready to pull out the blowgun to shoot.


    The Guard Captain approached steadily. With just a light kick, the blowgun was flung far away. Quetzal, still refusing to give up, clung to the Guard Captain¡¯s leg, shaking him vigorously with both hands, attempting to topple the statue-like figure before him. The Guard Captain slightly sank his body, rooted as if his feet were planted, unmoving.


    Watching all this, the elder sighed deeply. His voice was distant yet calm.


    "Quetzal, my child, stop your futile struggle. You must understand that the end has already been determined. Leave behind one last shred of dignity, and for your family, leave a path."


    At these words, Quetzal trembled. He finally stopped moving, his face pale as he looked towards the elder.


    "My family..."


    The elder nodded calmly, looking warmly at Quetzal.


    "My child, go in peace. Soon, there will be no pain at all."


    The will of the gods can never be altered. The Guard Captain finally opened the jar of fate. He took out a bottle of pale green potion and handed it to Quetzal lying at his feet.


    Quetzal gave a wry smile. He tremble as he took the potion, opened the seal, and was about to drink it, but then resentfully looked towards the elder.


    "Why?!"


    The elder did not answer, simply turning away silently.


    Watching the massive figure like a mountain, Quetzal finally despaired. He tilted his head back, his wrist trembling as he poured the potion down his throat, reluctantly accepting his fate.


    Many drops of the pale green potion splashed out, but the remainder was enough to open the gates of the Divine Kingdom. Soon, the Chief Priest couldn¡¯t suppress his trembling body and wore a strange yet sincere smile. Then he gently collapsed to the ground, even the clay jar in his hand not shattered. Following this, Quetzal continued to convulse for a few seconds on the ground, then lay still with a smile on his face.


    The Guard Captain crouched down, first checking Quetzal¡¯s breath, then lifting his eyelids to check his pupils. After that, he stood up and nodded to the elder in confirmation.


    It was only then that the elder walked slowly over. He stood beside Quetzal¡¯s body, silently observing for a long while before whispering to himself.


    "My child, rest assured. Soon, many will join you on your journey."


    Then, the elder gently shook the bell in his hand. Several Chief Minister¡¯s Guards quickly arrived and knelt down to salute. Their gazes were unfaltering, not glancing at Quetzal on the ground.


    "Where is the guard force?" the elder asked calmly.


    "Five hundred guards have already secured the area around the Prince¡¯s Mansion and the port to Texcoco."


    The leading guard replied respectfully.


    "The royal family¡¯s samurai?"


    "Three thousand family samurai attended the ceremony, now stationed in the palace district."


    "The capital city warriors?"


    "In the name of the ceremony, ten thousand capital city warriors have been assembled at the four armories."


    "The nobility battle group?"


    "By your command, after the ceremony, the Tiger and Eagle Warriors feasted in the Temple District, King Aweit included."


    The elder finally nodded. His command revealed a long-hidden sharpness. His plain words carried an iron will, cold and indifferent!


    "Mobilize the guard force, arrest Prince Texcoco, those who resist shall die. Mobilize the royal family¡¯s samurai, arrest the senior priests and the Great Nobility of the Texcoco line, those who resist shall die. Mobilize the capital city warriors, impose martial law in the name of the ceremony, seal all ports. Mobilize the nobility battle group, assemble at the eastern armory, ready for action. Notify King Aweit: stay calm at the residence, this does not concern him."


    The elder¡¯s expression was impassive, indifferent to the bloodshed and fire that were coming. He continued to speak calmly.


    "Summon Xutel, who waits, I must see him. Summon Uguel, wait outside."


    The guards bowed neatly and strode off. After many years, envoys once again departed from the Chief Palace, treading the dedicated paths to the Great Temple. Then, carrying the irrefutable command, they proceeded to all places in the capital city where military forces were concentrated.


    The elder slowly walked back to the center of the Great Temple, settling comfortably on the divine stone throne. He gently closed his eyes, Quetzal lying nearby as if asleep with a smile. The Guard Captain, still holding the clay jar, stood frozen beside him. The temple again fell silent as a pin could be heard dropping.


    Before long, some hurried footsteps distinct from the guards¡¯ approach echoed in the corridor. The elder slightly opened his eyes as the High Priest Xutel, clad in his solemn priestly vestments, came rushing, empty-handed.

 Chapter 168 - 101 Destiny_2

    Xiulote hastily stepped into the great hall. He knelt on both knees, paying his respects with deep bows, the Obsidian Divine Crown hanging low. Just as he was about to make a request, he abruptly stopped. On the ground, Quetzal¡¯s smile was right before his eyes.


    The High Priest stared blankly ahead. An old comrade of several decades, an old adversary of over a dozen years, now lay peacefully asleep on the ground, his expression joyous and serene. He had planned numerous times how they would clash upon their next meeting, how he would counter tonight¡¯s arguments. Yet, unexpectedly, the other had returned to the Divine Kingdom.


    A fleeting joy crossed Xiulote¡¯s heart, immediately followed by a surge of deep chill. He then bowed his head again in respect, without uttering a word, as sweat slowly soaked his back.


    The elder calmly gazed at the High Priest. After many years, little Xiulote had also aged considerably. It was some time before the elder slowly began to speak.


    "Xiulote, I know what you are here for. It was inconvenient to see you the day before yesterday. Now that we have met, there is no need for many words. Your grandson is a good boy. For his sake, you must relinquish your position in the High Priesthood and come to the Capital City. It¡¯s time for the two major Priesthoods of the Alliance to unite once again."


    Upon hearing the elder¡¯s words, Xiulote was shaken, his thoughts spinning. He raised his head slightly to look at the elder, his expression shifting. Decades of dedication and over a decade spent on his grandson weighed alternately in his heart. Then, with a long sigh, he conceded that fate was already sealed; he had no choice.


    "Venerable elder, I follow your will," Xiulote said, his complexion ashen. He removed the Divine Crown from his head, revealing his graying hair, and his expression gained a few more traces of relief.


    "I will relinquish the High Priesthood now, and I humbly ask that you spare the child Xiulote."


    The elder scrutinized Xiulote carefully. Memories of the past gradually overlaid, mingling into the aged visage of the youth before him. It was a long while before he nodded slightly.


    "Xiulote, your grandson is a good boy. After the merger, the twelve-man Priesthood will be handed over to you. Whether as High Priest or as Chief Priest, decide for yourself."


    At the elder¡¯s appointment, Xiulote looked up slightly. At first, he felt a flicker of joy, then self-mockery in his heart, and finally, a sigh.


    "If the elder is still here, being the Chief Priest of the Capital City is actually of no consequence. If the elder is not here, no one can suppress me. Will I be able to outlive the elder? That¡¯s still an unknown. If I really do outlive the elder... it might just be another cup of poison..."


    In any case, at this moment, he could only bow again, respectfully accepting his fate.


    The elder remained calm as he decided on great matters of the Empire.


    "Going forward, Uguel will be your deputy. Leave him the small matter of the merger. What¡¯s truly important is the religious code."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote looked at the elder, his gaze carrying a question.


    "You must compose a fundamental religious text to guide the future of the Mexica people. The specifics will become clear after you¡¯ve discussed them with that child. If there¡¯s anything you¡¯re unsure about, come to me. Remember, let go of your Feathered Serpent Divine, and transition into the Guardian God."


    "You¡¯ve been too deeply influenced by my brother, always thinking about using the Feathered Serpent to unite the tribes. However, when assimilating other ethnic groups, there can be no compromise. Weeds that stick out must be plowed over, their root systems thoroughly eradicated, so the corn behind them can grow well. Sacred blood must be offered for the earth to be reborn." sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Actually, Quetzal understood me the best, but alas, his time has come. After much thought, I consider your grandchild to be of greater value, and so I spared him. You just stay in the Capital City, and by the way, protect that child to prevent any untimely deaths."


    The elder tonight was different from usual. His emotions fluctuated slightly, as he spoke much more than usual.


    Xiulote maintained his position of respect, etching every word of the elder into his heart, then nodded in agreement.


    The elder pondered for a moment, then calmly inquired.


    "Xiulote, how far is the Teotihuacan legion from the Capital City?"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote fell with a thump to his knees. He bowed his graying head, prostrating on the ground.


    "Venerable elder, the Teotihuacan legion is only here to witness the King¡¯s coronation ceremony..."


    "How far?"


    "...Half a day," Xiulote replied with difficulty.


    The elder nodded slightly.


    "About what I expected. You go back now and give the order to lead Teotihuacan¡¯s legion to the outskirts of the City of Texcoco. At dawn tomorrow, set out alongside the capital¡¯s great army. Under the pretext of the coronation ceremony, I have arranged for someone to open the gates. Handling weeds is better done by the City-State legions, more convenient and clean."


    Xiulote¡¯s heart trembled. He looked up at the elder.


    "The City of Texcoco? Handling weeds?"


    The elder calmly nodded.


    "Now is the perfect time. The pumpkins to the west are too small and insignificant. The beans to the east are ripe and should be plucked. The Mexica people need only the tallest corn."


    Xiulote bowed his head in contemplation. After a moment, he silently accepted the order with a bow.


    The elder watched Xiulote for a moment, then dismissed him with a gentle wave of his hand.


    "Xiulote, you may go. Make sure to thoroughly take care of things tomorrow. That child has a good heart and can be entrusted with major responsibilities. Let him stay here for one more day. As for tomorrow¡¯s affairs, we old folk will take the blame, and the children need not get involved."


    A guard then stepped forward to lead the way, and Xiulote, with both hands clutching the Divine Crown, backed out of the hall. His back was thoroughly drenched, his body both cold and hot, but his heart had calmed down. This time, his footsteps were silent.


    The elder gestured to the guard and closed his eyes once more. The exhaustion of the day had been great, and fatigue washed over him in waves. The years, after all, spare no one.


    After a brief rest, the elder opened his eyes again. Before him knelt the slightly chubby Uguel, shaking all over, drenched in sweat, with Quetzal¡¯s frozen smile nearby.

 Chapter 169 - 101 Destiny_3

    The elder looked at Uguel a few times and calmly instructed,


    "Uguel, stop trembling, you still have time. The two High Priesthoods will merge, with Xutel as the Chief Priest and you as his deputy. Xutel will compile the religious scriptures, and you will handle the merger."


    "Tonight and tomorrow, we must eliminate the Texcoco lineage. Call together the Priesthood, reassure the people. Tell them the Texcoco Prince was dissatisfied with Trol¡¯s death, poisoned Chief Priest Quetzal, and plotted treason, a crime unforgivable. The Tlacopan Prince was not involved, let him stay at peace. The other Nobility are innocent if unaware. If they are unsettled, continue to accept their bribes as usual."


    At these words, Uguel felt a chill in his heart. He kowtowed forcefully, his head banging on the ground with thudding sounds.


    "Respected elder, I will return the bribes I received in the past..."


    "Uguel, look up." The elder watched him impassively.


    Uguel immediately stopped. He lifted his head slightly to meet the elder¡¯s unemotional gaze, feeling waves of coldness in his heart.


    "Do as I have said. Lock up those from the Nobility who are unstable, but do not kill anyone. You still have time, learn more scriptures in the future."


    Uguel cautiously confirmed the elder¡¯s gaze. Then, with reverence, he bowed and trembled as he accepted his fate.


    "You may go. I am tired. Take Quetzal¡¯s body out. Make the arrangements so that the Nobility can see. The poison he took was Texcoco¡¯s ¡¯Death Vine Water¡¯. Tell this to the Nobility, and don¡¯t get it wrong."


    Uguel kowtowed again as a sign of respect. His steps wobbled as he retreated. Two Guards carried Quetzal¡¯s body, like emotionless terra-cotta figures, quietly following by his side.


    After arranging everything, the elder finally closed his eyes and rested against the stone throne. The Guard Captain laid a Jaguar skin on the throne and covered the elder with a duck down blanket. Then, he moved the bonfire to the back of the stone throne. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the warm darkness, the elder fell asleep silently. In his dream, he saw his long-separated elder brother, the Poet King of Texcoco, and his departed dear friend Coyote. The three Marshals fought side by side, breaking through the Tepanec army¡¯s formation, storming their Capital City. Then, they drank merrily with comrades and brothers until dawn before the burning Temple of the Tepanecs, hearts open to each other.


    The elder brother started a vigorous War Dance, playing a brilliant Bamboo Flute. Coyote then sang aloud:


    "The flowers that bloom today, trampled under the feet of Samurai.


    The stubborn enemy standing firm, will turn to dust by tomorrow.


    Though rocks are solid, nothing can endure forever.


    We revel in today¡¯s joy, forgetting tomorrow¡¯s pain will come!


    Transient glory is destined to vanish like an illusion.


    How can humanity, so insignificant, ever outlast time?


    Only withering is cherished by us all.~~"


    In his sleep, the elder smiled faintly. Yes, only withering remains in this life, fear it¡¯s a silent farewell. The flickering bonfire lit the elder¡¯s hair, now completely white.


    At the elder¡¯s feet, Uguel walked out from the Chief Minister¡¯s palace. He took a deep breath, as if stepping out from the realm of the God of Death. Then, he wiped his sweat-soaked forehead with his sleeve, but it remained wet¡ªthe clothing had already been drenched through.


    Turning around, Uguel saw that the Guards behind him had also stopped. Looking at Quetzal¡¯s serene smile, he first sighed softly and then laughed with pleasure. Eventually, he couldn¡¯t help but bow his head, whispering to Quetzal,


    "Old man, you¡¯ve been prestigious for so many years, always outshining me, and this is the end you¡¯ve met! The wise egret is sacrificed to the spirits, the foolish turkey lives on. I am indeed uncarvable rotting wood but I still have time, what about you? I¡¯d rather be greedy and stupid, a threat to no one, and enjoy my days!"


    Having said that, Uguel laughed again with self-satisfaction. Then, he waddled away, his corpulent body shaking with laughter, towards the enclave of the Temple of the Priests. Behind him, Quetzal remained silent and still.

 Chapter 170 - 102: Blood Ties and Guilt by Association

    The sun had set, leaving behind a deep and covert night. Beneath the night that shrouded half the world, the many campfires of the brightest spot on the American Continent, the Lake Capital City, burned on sleeplessly.


    The grand coronation ceremony had just concluded. In the palace district of the Capital City, the nobility lit fragrant incense, gathering for feasts, singing, dancing, and reciting poetry. The commoners of the community lit torches, coming together to pray and bless. And on the shore of the starlit Lake Texcoco, in the swaying canoes, were young men and women in secret trysts. They embraced, whispering to each other, gazing at the dazzling Milky Way in the medieval night sky.


    Starlight illuminated the path. Dozens of Chief Ministers¡¯ envoys, with solemn faces, made their way through hidden trails. Not long afterward, like fierce beasts awakening from the jungle, the entire Capital City gradually quieted down, lights extinguishing one by one. The autumn wind carried a deadly chill, bringing an unknown fear.


    Platoons of Samurai poured out from the Empire¡¯s armory. Donning their armor and wielding their sharp weapons, they blocked key roads, bridges, and ports, controlling small boats on the shore, forbidding pedestrians to leave the city. Young couples were frightened, herded into the nearest houses. The Samurai, bearing a trace of confusion, were on guard for "a rebellion by the Prince of Texcoco."


    At the edge of the palace district, in the Prince¡¯s Mansion, Biril was shaken awake from a deep sleep. His eyes opened drowsily to see the anxious face of a middle-aged Samurai. After worshipping his uncle Trol, he had felt depressed, drinking some wine. He reminisced about past glories, then fell into a deep sleep in the night wind.


    In his dreams, he saw his father, the center of attention, and then himself, also the center of attention, standing atop the majestic Great Temple, overlooking the Capital City below. What did such a dream portend?


    "My King, something terrible has happened! We are surrounded by a large army! The enemy has breached the gates, and there are only a hundred Samurai inside the Royal Mansion ¡ª we cannot hold them off! Hurry, we must break out!"


    The middle-aged Samurai¡¯s urgent cry, accompanied by the sharp clang of weapons clashing, and the low moan of those dying.


    Biril snapped awake. He leaped out of bed, stumbling slightly, and ripped off his ornate royal robes. He donned modest cotton armor.


    "Who are the enemies? How many?" Biril asked calmly, taking the shield and war club handed to him by the Samurai.


    "The enemy is extremely well equipped, with bronze axes and leather armor. Their martial arts are exceptionally skilled¡ªthey¡¯re absolutely elite. They¡¯re either Imperial Guards or Temple Guards! There¡¯s a lot of them, too many to count, but definitely more than us," said the middle-aged Samurai, his face grave. He was prepared to die.


    Biril dashed out of the ornate main house, the middle-aged Samurai close behind him. Ascending to the cool rooftop, he looked around. Enemies clad in leather armor and wielding bronze axes scaled the stone walls and broke through wooden gates, converging from all directions. Everywhere he looked, the Royal Mansion¡¯s defenders were being pushed back.


    The opposing Samurai were expressionless. They swung their bronze axes like puppets, forcefully cleaving through the chests of the guards, mercilessly cutting the throats of the wounded, completely blocking all passages.


    Biril felt a chill in his heart. He remembered the middle-aged Samurai¡¯s suggestion to return East overnight, remembered the Chief Priest¡¯s proposal for an alliance in marriage, and roared angrily at the night sky, "Quetzal, how dare you deceive me!"


    "Whiz, whiz, whiz." Dozens of arrows came flying at the sound, the Archers equipped with Tlaxcalan Bows had long been lying in wait.


    A figure suddenly blocked their path. Biril fell to the ground with a stagger. An arrow hit each arm and thigh, blood flowing. But he had no time to care about his wounds, only holding the fallen middle-aged Samurai, tears streaming forth from his eyes like fountains.


    The middle-aged Samurai had more than ten arrows in him, most of which only penetrated the leather armor shallowly, leaving bleeding wounds. It was only the one fatal arrow that pierced two inches into his chest through the leather armor, cutting through the heart and artery, causing a rapid internal hemorrhage.


    "Texcoco..." the words barely left the middle-aged Samurai¡¯s lips before he sadly widened his eyes and became still, gazing at Biril.


    In the distance, a sturdy Samurai with a longbow nodded slightly. Those bows were indeed exceptional; within a hundred paces, they could kill a Samurai in leather armor.


    On the rooftop, Biril cried and raged, dodging amidst the rain of incoming arrows. In a mere quarter-hour, all the resisters were dead. Dozens of Copper Axe Warriors ascended to the rooftop, their axes dripping blood, surrounding him completely. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am the Prince of Texcoco, son of the founder of the Three-City Alliance! How dare you harm me without reason?" Biril shouted at the encircling Samurai. His handsome face was already twisted.


    "Prince of Texcoco, surrender. You have poisoned the Chief Priest, intending rebellion, and your crime is unforgivable. Only by offering a sacrifice to the great deities can you wash away the boundless guilt," declared the Envoy solemnly.


    Upon hearing this, Biril incredulously raised his head to look at the dignified Envoy.


    "Poisoned the Chief Priest?..."


    Shocked for a good ten seconds or more, Biril finally understood something. Desperately, he howled towards the direction of the Great Temple, "The old villain is so cruel... to actually..."


    The Envoy gestured forcefully, and the Samurai rushed forward. They knocked the Prince of Texcoco down with the blunt side of their bronze axes, bound his hands with henequen ropes, and stuffed his mouth with fabric, dragging him off toward the Great Temple like that. The Royal Mansion was left with only corpses and, on the shrine of the main hall, Trol¡¯s head with eyes wide open.


    The arrests of the Texcoco line unfolded simultaneously throughout the Capital City. The Royal Family¡¯s warriors burst into the nobility¡¯s feast. Without discrimination, they mercilessly took away Texcoco¡¯s military nobles, hereditary nobles, and even the nobles of honor. These nobles had come for the new King¡¯s coronation, in the middle of festivities; their capture was sudden, all taken away in one fell swoop.

 Chapter 171 - 102 Blood Ties and Guilt by Association_2

    Afterward, Priests from the Great Temple arrived with orders from Uguel, proclaiming the "Prince of Texcoco¡¯s crimes." The Priests pacified the nobility of the Capital City and Tlacopan, inviting them to the Priests¡¯ palace in the Temple District to worship the Chief Priest Quetzal and to bid farewell to the revered spirit.


    The two thousand elite warrior Battle Groups from the Temple District had already been brought under control. Hundreds of Samurai from Texcoco were first excluded and temporarily detained. The Envoy announced the "order to suppress the Texcoco rebels."


    The military nobility showed unease but did not stir up trouble. Soon, more royal officers arrived, and that finally suppressed the tumult of the elite warrior Battle Groups. Two hours later, five thousand warriors from the Lake Capital City arrived at the command, restraining the noble warriors, and the seven thousand-strong army set off in stages. They embarked on the already assembled Naval Forces at the port and sailed overnight under the moonlight. The fleet then headed for the eastern shore of Lake Texcoco, dozens of miles away to the City of Texcoco.


    Aweit returned to Montezuma Palace, led by the Envoy. He first had the guards bring gifts to his daughter. Then, sitting opposite Gillim under the dim glow of the ceremonial fire in the main hall, they remained silent.


    After a while, Gillim saluted respectfully and reported solemnly.


    "According to the latest intelligence, Chief Priest Quetzal is dead, and the Prince of Texcoco intends to rebel. The elders have dispatched troops to suppress it."


    Aweit nodded lightly, then shook his head, it was impossible for the Prince of Texcoco to rebel at this time.


    "This matter is too peculiar, what exactly happened?"


    Gillim pondered for a moment and spoke in a low voice.


    "The situation is completely under the control of the elders, the Texcoco lineage was utterly unprepared, this must be the elder¡¯s scheme."


    Aweit was slightly surprised.


    "You mean...the death of Quetzal?"


    Gillim nodded cautiously.


    "Why would the elder do such a thing?!"


    "That depends on what exactly His Highness Xiulote said to the elder," Gillim answered, saluting respectfully, his words filled with profound meaning.


    At the same time, in the dark Serpent House, Xiulote was awakened by a sudden commotion. Feeling somewhat disoriented, he carefully moved the tail of the small green snake encircling his neck. Then, he pressed his ear against the wall, listening carefully. There were faint shouts and cries. About a quarter of an hour later, the noise gradually subsided. In the night, there was the silence of death.


    Xiulote furrowed his brow. He was worried about Aweit and Alisa, whom he hadn¡¯t seen in a long time. Then he went to the stone doorway and shouted out to the Guards outside. The guards remained silent, giving no response.


    Xiulote leaned against the wall again, staring into the darkness. He did not know his fate and worried for his loved ones. The silence and darkness were irritating, eventually lulling him back to sleep. The small green snake shifted its position, coiling around his waist. It was like being wrapped in a silk blanket, smooth and rather comforting. The youth propped his head with his hand and fell asleep amidst his thoughts.


    This sleep lasted until the next morning. At this time, with two meals a day, breakfast would be around nine o¡¯clock. The stone door was thunderously opened, and breakfast was maize cakes and black bean paste. The guard still did not communicate with Xiulote, leaving the food behind and immediately departing. The youth chewed on the still warm cakes, his thoughts drifting far away. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Meanwhile, dozens of miles to the East, under the guise of a celebration, the gates of Texcoco were thrown wide open.


    Many insiders had long been ready, ushering the Alliance¡¯s great army into the city. Seven thousand warriors from the Capital City entered from the west gate, while four thousand warriors from the Holy City surged in from the north gate. The slightly more than a thousand Texcoco garrison warriors were taken by surprise, surrendering without a fight. Shortly thereafter, the city gates and streets were under control. The Capital City warriors were responsible for suppression, while the warriors from the Holy City burst through doors to capture Texcoco¡¯s royal family, nobility, and priests.


    The royal family and the Great Nobility, who had reigned for hundreds of years, trembled, complied, wept, raged, resisted, and fought, yet they could not change the fate decreed by the elders. Those who resisted were turned to ashes, and those who surrendered were captured as prisoners. The sudden turn of events and the disparity in strength made cries and roars meaningless.


    After breakfast, Xiulote perked up. He first recalled three hours of religious doctrine, then pondered for two hours on economic surveys, and finally, aimlessly thought about military reforms for another two hours. By four o¡¯clock in the afternoon, it was time for dinner. Dinner was unexpectedly lavish: turkey legs, stewed rabbit, maize pies, and mushroom tomato soup.


    Xiulote remembered the customs of his homeland and fearfully touched his own head. That¡¯s right, the Mexica also had similar customs. He zoned out for a while, feeling fear momentarily, but then the Samurai¡¯s resolve took over. He sat down unrestrainedly and ate heartily.


    "In eighteen years, I will be a hero again! Ah, I¡¯m almost fourteen years old." The youth whimsically mused, striking a heroic pose to suppress the unease in his heart, draining the mushroom soup in one gulp. Then he tore off a rabbit leg for the small green snake. The snake disdainfully sniffed the cooked meat and slithered away from the youth. It wanted to dive into the waterways to hunt for tasty little creatures.


    At the same time, on the eastern shore of Lake Texcoco. Thousands of scared royal and noble children were escorted by fully-armed warriors and boarded canoes. Empty-stomached, bare-handed, and shivering, they headed towards the Lake Capital City. They knew of the "Prince of Texcoco¡¯s rebellion," but they had no idea what their fate would be next.


    Another silent night passed. That night, Xiulote had a restless sleep. He thought of his ancestors, friends, subordinates, and lovers, his strict self-discipline, sleepless nights spent on technical research, and his grand plans for the future.

 Chapter 172 - 102 Blood and Guilt by Association_3

    The darkness made the youth vulnerable, and he couldn¡¯t help but feel a surge of sorrow: "To die before achieving success, forever causing heroes to weep in their garments. The ancients truly did not deceive me!" Unintentionally, he had entered the state of mind of Zhuge Liang, the military strategist.


    At that time, the little green snake finally emerged leisurely from underground. It wriggled on Xiulote¡¯s clothes, removing the traces of water, then unceremoniously coiled around the youth¡¯s neck, assuming a comfortable "?" position. Xiulote inexplicably felt a lot more at peace and fell deeply asleep once again.


    The night was so long and hard to bear that many could not sleep.


    When the stone door opened again, Xiulote sat up alertly, with the little green snake gone once again. The light of a candle came from outside the door, illuminating the serene face of the Elder and the guard captain holding a clay pot.


    The Elder did not speak. He looked at the expression of the youth, and a barely visible smile flickered across his face, never to be seen again. Then he made a gesture and turned to leave.


    Xiulote followed behind with solemnity, passing through the long sloping corridor, the walkways of the deities, to once again arrive in front of the palace¡¯s window.


    In the abrupt brightness, Xiulote strained to adjust his eyes, scrutinizing the scene before him. How familiar the sight was: the gathered nobility and samurai, the high priests ready to perform the sacrifice. There was a solemn silence between heaven and earth, only the celebratory singing was absent.


    A handsome young man smiled foolishly, the first to climb up the towering War God Hall. The chanting of the priests rose once again.


    "The sinful Prince Biril of Texcoco, off to the realm of the War God! He shall offer a divine sacrifice, to atone for his offense against the deities and the King!"


    It was a very familiar voice, one he hadn¡¯t heard for a long time. Xiulote looked on in astonishment, only then noticing that the priest dressed in the garb of the Supreme Priest, holding aloft the Obsidian Dagger, was actually his own grandfather! He looked around more carefully, but could not find Quetzal¡¯s figure.


    Xiulote looked at the Elder in shock, and the Elder nodded calmly.


    "My child, the Texcoco Prince has poisoned Quetzal. Your grandfather is now the new Chief Priest."


    In front of the War God Hall, with all eyes upon him, Biril stood atop the Great Temple, surveying the capital city at his feet. So, this was the revelation of the dream... He laughed bitterly for a moment, then the high priests laid him upon the Sacrificial Stone. His body was swiftly separated and rolled down the stone steps.


    Behind Biril were all the prince¡¯s bloodlines of Texcoco, a heritage of a hundred years, totaling more than five hundred people. Following them were over four hundred sons of the Great Nobility, and finally, several dozen heads of lesser noble families. They were drugged, limbs numb, bodies painted with the blue of sacrifice, one by one ascending the War God Hall. Their spirits returned to the Divine Kingdom, while their bodies rolled into the dust.


    This time, there was no need to ask for names. For their names had long been a part of the history of the Alliance. They had once shone at the pinnacle and now wilted overnight.


    There was no cheering at today¡¯s sacrifice. Below the Great Temple, the faces of the nobility were grave, their hearts trembling. This was entirely different from the feeling of sacrificing enemy nobles. The people on the stage had been celebrating and drinking with them just the day before, exalted above all others, and now they were being sent to the sacrificial altar, how could this not instill fear!


    Those glorious names, even longer than the history of the Alliance, are what every Mexica noble must learn by heart, the true elite. And now, right before everyone, a prince, two honored nobles, close to ten hereditary nobles, would forever be extinct, their lineage broken, vanishing from the eyes of the deities!


    This was an unprecedented large-scale purge in the history of the Alliance. Although the Prince of Texcoco in a fit of rage poisoned the Chief Priest, an unforgivable crime, there was no need to implicate so many!


    If the capital had not been sealed off, and the nobles closely supervised by the Royal Warriors, it is likely that many of the nobility would have already fled back to their fiefs, mobilizing Samurai to protect themselves.


    Among them, the Prince of Tlacopan was particularly nervous. He attempted to escape in disguise twice, but was intercepted by the Elder Guards. Subsequently, he heavily bribed Uguel, who then gave him advice on how to seek an audience with the Elder. Under the Elder¡¯s indifferent gaze, the Prince took the initiative to relinquish control of the 6000 Tlacopan Warriors, as well as the Chinampas that supported a portion of them.


    Only then did the Elder nod amiably, consoling with kind words. He granted the Prince the scepter symbolizing his status, the Royal Token indicating trust, and arranged a marriage with the grandniece of the Chief Priest. The Prince of Tlacopan finally felt slightly at ease.


    In the depths of the hidden dungeon, dozens of Texcoco¡¯s High Priests were secretly executed. Most of them had the blood of the Prince and the Great Nobility and were holding divine power, which hindered reform. And in the largest dungeon, more than a thousand young Texcoco nobles and nobility Battle Groups were detained. These elite noble Samurai were not part of the purge, for the Elder had another use for them.


    The Elder calmly looked at the Great Temple stained red. His eyes reflected the blood color, unfathomable and undisturbed. When his glance shifted ever so slightly, the nobility, both great and small, bowed their heads in solemn silence, shuddering like cicadas in cold weather. But the genuine reverence and obedience were no longer present.


    The Elder sighed in his heart. These days, the Great Nobility continuously sought audiences, requesting the Elder to pardon the Prince of Texcoco and not to involve too many. Though under the Elder¡¯s authority, the nobility bowed down once more, the hearts of the people were already excessively drained.


    In the entire Texcoco Lake District, there were only two Princes, twenty honored nobility families, and a little over a hundred hereditary nobles. This purge completely eradicated the Texcoco line, exterminated the most conservative religious nobles and Priests, and reclaimed a large amount of land and wealth. At the same time, it deterred the Great Nobility and cleared obstacles for the religious reformation.


    But his prestige had been exhausted. The nobility were suppressed to the brink of rebellion, and for at least several years, their interests could no longer be stripped away. Indeed, the Alliance needed to quickly prepare for the next war, using the victory of war to enhance the core authority and to feed the loyalty of the nobility with the flesh and blood of enemies.


    At this time, Xiulote finally calmed down. He looked seriously at the Elder, not knowing how to begin. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Elder¡¯s face remained impassive. He spoke slowly.


    "My child, the first nest of rats has been removed. You must help Xutel compile the religious scriptures, clarify the Code of Law. You must organize texts and teach Priest apprentices. You must also prepare, make more Longbows. After next year¡¯s autumn harvest, the Alliance will send out troops again."


    Xiulote bowed his head. The autumn wind blew through his long hair, bringing with it a faint stench of blood.


    By sacrificing the bloodline of the Texcoco Prince and taking back the military authority of Tlacopan, the capital¡¯s fifty thousand Warriors now had only one allegiance. There would be no repeat of history, when the Spaniards arrived, the Prince rebelled, and the Alliance erupted into civil war. This sacrifice of a thousand Great Nobles was the blood-paved step towards the next level of advancement.


    The progress of an era needed the fuel of life and a helmsman to steer its direction, driving towards a more powerful future. This purge was about stripping the ruling class of their interests, removing latent threats, centralizing power and land in preparation for the religious reformation. Without absolute authority, it could never be accomplished. By making such a choice, the Elder had renounced his own legacy.


    Realizing this, Xiulote sincerely bowed to the Elder and accepted the command with deep reverence!

 Chapter 173 - 103 - Subsequent News: Commoners, Nobility, and Priests

    December¡¯s wind brought a chilling cold, and the Capital City in December was like icy blood.


    Since the new king Ahuizotl ascended to the throne, the situation within the Alliance had undergone violent changes, with too many shocking news coming one after another, as if the War God had once again descended upon Snake Mountain, casting the gods to dust. Even now, although the Capital had lifted its blockade, the hearts of the people were still unable to calm down.


    For the common people of Lake Capital City, the most shocking news was that on the night of the new king¡¯s ascension, the Prince of Texcoco poisoned the Chief Priest, intending to rebel. Immediately, the Royal Warriors mobilized, quelled the rebellion, and suppressed the nobility of the City-State of Texcoco.


    The community Priests explained: the Chief Priest sacrificed the defeated uncle Xiulote, and then sent his severed head back to the Prince of Texcoco. Bearing resentment, the Prince poisoned the Chief Priest with cocoa, then rebelled against the Alliance, intending to destroy the beautiful Lake Capital City. The immortal Elder saw through all this and timely intervened to save the Alliance from a critical situation. Then, merciful yet majestic, the Elder sacrificed the rebels, allowing them to cleanse their sins and receive forgiveness from the gods.


    However, in whispers among the alleys, it was said that the Chief Priest took an exotic potion from the Texcoco City-State, and laughed and danced uncontrollably all night, his poetry flowing like a spring, before dying with a smile. This poetic death was filled with beauty, making many Capital residents long for it, truly worthy of the poetic heritage of the Texcoco Royal Family!


    Even though the upper echelons of the Alliance were turbulent, the world of the common people remained undisturbed, and life had to continue as usual.


    The quiet contemplation in the Serpent House made Xiulote think a lot. Events from the past surfaced in front of him, then drifted away with the wind. Whenever he found time these days, he would have the old carpenter Kuode guide him to visit Kusola¡¯s family, the first warrior who had died for him.


    Khubsola¡¯s house was somewhat remote, located on the western outskirts of the Capital. The walls were made of a mixture of mud and stone, the roof of wooden beams and branches, covered with sun-baked clay tiles. Over here, houses were organized by family units, with eight or nine neatly arranged dwellings inside and out. Then dozens of people lived together, with clothing, food, shelter, and work all distributed by the Clan Leader.


    A commoner¡¯s family could only support one or two warriors to uphold the family¡¯s honor by banding together.


    Accompanied respectfully by the Clan Leader, Xiulote entered Kusola¡¯s house. It was not large; inside, a simply dressed woman was taking care of a one or two-year-old boy who giggled, pushing his wooden wheeled toy.


    Yes, centuries ago, the Maya had invented the wheel, and even made it into delicate toys. Mexico City-State had small one-wheeled carts, balanced two-wheeled carts, and astronomically aligned three-wheeled carts, sold in the central plaza. However, carts never moved beyond toys to become genuinely practical tools.


    The most important reason was the wheels. The wheels had to be made of hardwood to ensure they were wear-resistant. They could not simply be a round wooden board but had to be a hollow ring with spokes. The durability and sophistication meant a complicated manufacturing process, and in the Stone Age, the cost of making a wheel was incredibly high, leading to the depletion of many sets of stone tools. These tools also required a lot of manpower to manufacture.


    Even if crafted, another problem was the lack of metals to reinforce the wheels. Observing Medieval wheels, one would see a large number of metal nails fastened inside and outside the wheel¡¯s rim to ensure that the wheel remained stable and did not fall apart. Without reinforced nails, purely wood-based connections meant that once the wheel bore weight, the sophisticated structure was prone to damage. Once damaged, it meant repeating the high-cost production process.


    Another reason was the lack of domesticated large animals. Even with high-cost carts, without large domesticated animals, the efficiency of movement would hardly improve. Beyond the city, the landscape was covered with forests and brush. Without iron tools to build long roads, pushing carts would not be much more efficient than walking.


    In the end, the lack of metal tools limited the development of Central American civilization, locking society in a prolonged era, anxiously awaiting a "dramatic leap" in technological progress. And now, that leap was imminent.


    Looking at the plain woman and the boy playing with the wheeled toy, Xiulote was filled with mixed emotions. He remembered Kusola¡¯s buried umbilical cord and also recalled the young warrior¡¯s death with a remnant of liquor in his hand. A youth¡¯s heart always had a soft spot, which made him silent at this moment, standing for a long time.


    The Clan Leader hurriedly had the woman and the boy perform a courtesy, but Xiulote gently waved his hand to stop them. He took one more look at the simple walls of the house and the various intricately crafted wooden furniture, then silently turned around and left, not wanting to disturb the woman and the boy any longer. He gave instructions to his followers only after stepping out of the house.


    "Support Kusola¡¯s family to the standards of an elite warrior. When Kunava grows up, find him the best warrior teacher. Yes, let¡¯s name that child Kunava."


    "I will make him a Jaguar warrior, a true warrior nobility," Xiulote mused to himself. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And for the nobility and warriors of Lake Capital City, the most terrifying news was the grand sacrifice that continued for three days after the rebellion was suppressed. Thousands from the Great Nobility returned to the Divine Kingdom, the Texcoco Royal Family was completely extinguished, and more than ten Great Nobility houses were purged. While hundreds of smaller nobility and many noble warriors were still imprisoned in jails.


    The upper forces of the Texcoco City-State were thus swept clean. The Elder¡¯s eminent name became shrouded in blood-tinged terror.

 Chapter 174 - 103 Continued News: Commoners, Nobility, and Priests_2

    Of course, faced with the large tracts of land and estates left by the Prince and the various nobles, the thousands of vassal samurai, the nobles of the capital city were likewise green with envy. Nobles of all ranks held secret meetings to discuss whether there was a chance to obtain the fertile fiefs on the eastern shore of the lake and to succeed as the lord of the city of Texcoco, thus passing on a legacy that would last for generations. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The desires of the ordinary samurai were much smaller. They hoped to pledge loyalty to the royal family, dedicate their martial prowess, and be granted a productive chinampa. From then on, they would be able to support many children and establish their own families.


    Only those with a keen eye paid attention to the discreet actions of Prince Totoquihuatzin of Tlacopan. Totoquihuatzin handed over the jurisdiction of his six thousand direct subordinate samurai and gave up a large expanse of chinampa on the western shore of the lake. Then he divorced his original wife and married the fourteen-year-old great-grandniece of the Chief Priest. The next day, he crossed the bridge and went west.


    When he arrived, he was surrounded by a host of followers, his aura mighty; upon his departure, he was as light as the drifting breeze, slipping away without a sound.


    Kapana stood on the long white bridge, bidding farewell to her cousin. The two embraced, crowned each other with fresh flowers, wept together, and reminisced about their kind and amiable grandfather, hating the prince of Texcoco with the heart of a beast but the face of a man. Acap stood by, gently watching his new bride. Xiulote, having just regained his freedom, also joined in the excitement.


    Prince Totoquihuatzin appeared to be in his thirties, with a round face, always smiling and plump, exuding an aura of kindness. He did not conform to the aesthetic ideals of the samurai of his era; rather than resembling the widely revered king, he looked more like a prosperous merchant.


    Upon seeing Xiulote, he enthusiastically took the young man¡¯s arm, greeted him loudly, and had people bring over a long feather crown, gemstone-studded outfits, and crocodile leather shoes. Then he animatedly commented on the exquisite delicacies, the ornaments of gold, silver, and gemstones, and the songstresses from various parts of Mexico.


    Xiulote quietly observed Prince Totoquihuatzin for a long time. He pondered that he would likely see this face for many more years to come.


    After parting with her cousin, Kapana nostalgically touched the dagger hidden inside her blouse. It was a gift from her grandfather before her marriage, along with a vial of pale yellow potion. Remembering her grandfather¡¯s final instructions, she sighed softly.


    "My beloved grandfather, Acap has been kind to me, and the king whom you were worried about has not harmed our family. I will probably never need to use your potion," she said.


    If she had married the king in the beginning, would her grandfather have also given her a dagger and potion? There was no answer to this question, and Kapana did not want to know; things were good as they were. With a relieved smile, she contentedly held onto Acap¡¯s arm.


    Acap, dressed in the black attire of a high priest, also smiled and held his wife close.


    He had changed his outfit and become the youngest Elder Priest among the group of twelve. Despite opposition from many in the Chief Priest¡¯s line, with the identity of Kapana and the support of King Aweit, he was still able to persuade everyone and successfully inherited part of Quetzal¡¯s authority.


    For the priests of the Lake Capital City, the news of greatest interest was the merging of the High Priesthood and the Priesthood. The Council of Elder Priests, consisting of twelve members, became the sole and supreme ecclesiastical center of the Alliance, with High Priest Xutel assuming the leadership of the priesthood. At the call of the leader, the upper echelons of the Priesthood hurriedly came from the Holy City.


    The first matter that the Elder Priests addressed upon meeting was to clarify the Fifth Level sacred offices.


    The consensus was quickly reached; the Elder Priests of both Priesthoods were equivalent to the Supreme High Priest, while the Elder Priests of other city-states were categorized as High Priests, under the direct management of the Supreme High Priests. The Fifth Level coyote priests served as High Priests, the Fourth and Third Level as City Priests, and the Second and First Level as village and community priests. The five-tier structure was clear-cut with a strict promotion system.


    Obviously, with the territory of the eleven Mexica states, the classification of the priests¡¯ sacred offices was exceedingly elevated. But during the early stages of reform, it was time to appease the priests across the region. Once the overall situation was stabilized, there would be plenty of opportunities to gradually streamline.


    Next were fundamental scriptures and religious regulations, of utmost concern to the Elders.


    Xiulote, having been entrusted by the Elders with the important task of compiling the scriptures, was able to further advance, and was honored with the title of High Priest. Now, his most important daily work was to go to the Priestly Temple, teach the textual characters to the Elder Priests, and participate in the discussion of new doctrines.


    Chinese characters were the main carriers of the new Mexica writing system. During the integration with the Nahuatl language, the first issue was pronunciation. The majority of Chinese characters adopted the ¡¯on¡¯yomi¡¯¡ªthe form and meaning of the Chinese character, with the sound from Nahuatl. For some special Chinese characters, where no equivalent concept could be found in the existing languages, the ¡¯kun¡¯yomi¡¯ was adopted, taking the sound, form, and meaning of the Chinese character.


    Beyond ¡¯on¡¯yomi¡¯, was the newly developing Kana system. This system borrowed the form of Chinese characters, assigning localized meanings, and even localized pronunciations. Combining the features of the Mexica pictographic script, it was possible to develop an extremely simplified hiragana-like system that would allow the culturally uninitiated samurai and commoners to quickly master the simple written form. The phonetic hiragana-like script would be akin to a Nahuatl phonetic system.


    Of course, for the high priests, mastering the full range of Chinese characters was a symbol of status and position. They were also intelligent enough to learn and master Chinese characters and even to draw inferences by analogy.


    At that moment, Xiulote, dressed in black priestly attire, sat slightly below the center of the great hall of the Priestly Temple, next to a pile of wooden boards inscribed with characters. Opposite him sat his grandfather, with a majestic expression and wearing a Divine Crown, surrounded by a circle of Elder Priests of similar age. Feather crowns adorned their long hair, the air was heavy with the scent of sandalwood, turquoise wound around the four walls like vines, and the surrounding tiers were filled with priests of all levels, listening attentively.

 Chapter 175 - 103 Subsequent News: Commoners, Nobility, and Priests_3

    The High Priest gave a slight smile, then gestured for Xiulote to speak.


    Xiulote thought it over and decided to start with the "Thousand Character Text" he had memorized in the past. This was a primer for enlightenment and had profound implications. By the time he had finished the one thousand characters, a basic textual system had emerged.


    So, the young man straightened his back, pointing to the topmost plank, he began to speak solemnly:


    "Ilhuicatl, tlalli, tliltic, coztic; the universe, ixachipul, huahcatzin."


    "Heaven and earth are dark and high, the vast universe is infinitely great and also infinitely distant. The azure sky is black, the great earth is yellow, the boundless universe is infinite in size, and also infinite in extent."


    Here, ¡¯heaven and earth¡¯ and ¡¯vast¡¯ were read phonetically in Nahuatl. The young man carefully considered that the concept of the universe was not clear in this era, so he still used the phonetic reading of the Chinese characters.


    The Elder Priests pondered the meaning of these words, and with their capabilities, learning these Chinese characters was not difficult.


    An aged Elder Priest pondered and began to speak, his voice tinged with slight admiration.


    "This phrase seems to have a deep meaning."


    Xiolote¡¯s spirit was uplifted, and he looked at these wise men of the era expectantly.


    "Ilhuicatl is the sky, and also the beautiful Divine Kingdom. Tlalli is the earth, the fields, and also the world beneath. Tliltic is black, the shadow of a person, and also signifies the dead. Coztic is yellow, the yellow of gold and bronze, and could also be the underground mineral deposits..."


    Upon hearing this, another lucid Elder Priest clapped his hands and laughed heartily, speaking loudly.


    "Excellent! The profound meaning of this sentence is: those who follow the gods, after death, will ascend to Heaven and enjoy infinite beauty. Those who defy the gods, after death, will sink into the earth, congealing into eternal Jin Shi, without ever escaping. The divine power of the gods is infinite, enveloping boundless lands, transcending generations, infinite and everlasting!"


    Hearing this, all the Elders praised together. Xiulote the Priest truly had extraordinary talent and learning for his age.


    Immediately after, a middle-aged Elder looked at the High Priest, and suggested respectfully and solemnly.


    "Priest Xiulote speaks excellently! This line aligns with our fundamental scriptures, so we should inscribe it in the first chapter of the doctrine. ¡¯Heaven and earth are dark and high, the vast universe is infinitely great.¡¯ Those who follow the divine will ascend to Heaven and forever enjoy tranquility. Those who defy the divine will sink into the Abyss, turn into gold and Jin Shi, and never escape. We must believe in our god Huitzilopochtli, His divine power is infinite, from the past to the future, controlling all existence, until doomsday arrives!"


    The High Priest nodded in satisfaction, smiling with relief. Everyone then looked towards Xiulote, and seeing his composed expression, not arrogant or impetuous, the Elders praised him again.


    Listening to the Elders¡¯ praises, the young man¡¯s heart surged like a stampede, yet his face was as expressionless as a wooden chicken.


    As the teaching of writing and the compilation of doctrine unfolded simultaneously, the ensuing discussion entered a trajectory that the young man had never considered.


    "Celestial bodies wax and wane, constellations spread across the sky."


    "The sun, the moon, the stars, these celestial changes are all the divine power of the Chief Divine. He bestows sunlight upon us, using the lunar and stellar patterns to reveal the truth, then teaches these truths to the Priesthood."


    "Indeed, the Chief Divine brings light, and the Priesthood listens to the decree!" the lucid Elder Priest exclaimed loudly.


    "What Priest Xiulote says is true, it is worthy of being recorded in the doctrine." the middle-aged Elder proposed again.


    Upon hearing this, the High Priest nodded in satisfaction once more.


    "Cold gives way to heat, autumn harvests, winter stores."


    "Autumn, winter? What¡¯s the difference between these two characters?" Uguel asked with some confusion.


    "Elder Uguel, the Supreme High Priesthood¡¯s inherited Ritual Plate has mentioned it. Winter is the divine calamity from the far north, a fearful white cold that can destroy fields, freeze people and poultry to death." the aged Elder explained.


    "Then the profound meaning of this verse is: the Chief Divine controls the change of cold and warmth of heaven and earth. He bestows bountiful harvests upon those who follow, and brings divine disaster upon the defiant, causing the earth to yield nothing, with both people and livestock perishing. And the Priests will provide guidance for the believers¡¯ agricultural production, to acquire the divine-given bountiful harvest."


    "That¡¯s right, and we should add to the doctrine that those who die from the divine calamity will also sink into the Abyss." the middle-aged Elder thoughtfully added.


    Once again bewildered, Xiulote¡¯s grandfather chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Continue."


    "Inter-calation completes the year, laws and regulations harmonize with the sun."


    "Intercalary days? That seems to be something from the Mayan Lunar Calendar. Our Sun Calendar doesn¡¯t have those,"


    mused a learned Elder.


    "Then let us substitute with the unlucky days at the end of the Sun Calendar. The divine reflects upon the sins of the past year during the last five unlucky days. Let the faithful come to the Temple for confession during these days, to absolve themselves of their wrongdoings," the aged Elder pondered aloud.


    "Indeed, music is harmony, and harmony is music. The divine favors it, using music to soothe social strife and define social classes. We must establish different musical standards while also expanding the Temple¡¯s choir, recruiting distinguished commoners,"


    "Excellent! The believers of the villages love music the most. We could compose poems that accompany the music to guide the hearts of the faithful..." the Elder with a bright gleam in his eye suggested loudly.


    The Thousand Character Text covered all aspects of life, and the Elder Priests thus extended the doctrines to all aspects of society.


    As Xiulote listened to the Elders¡¯ praises, he recited the Thousand Character Text with a vacant and weary expression. In the end, he received an extremely high evaluation: "Learned beyond others, unaffected by honor or disgrace. Devout in faith, graced with Wisdom Revelation."


    The High Priest Xutel gently pinched the boy¡¯s cheek. Seeing the boy¡¯s exhausted expression, he kindly suggested that he go and rest.


    Xiulote then walked to the outskirts and sat next to Acap, watching the central Elders continue to argue over doctrine. As the youngest Elder Priest, Acap had been mostly silent earlier. He simply watched the radiant boy in the center with a smiling gaze.


    Xiulote leaned in to his childhood friend and nudged his arm, quietly asking in a low voice.


    "Why are the Elder Priests so enthusiastic?"


    Acap smiled warmly. He leaned closer to the boy¡¯s ear, likewise whispering softly.


    "You were locked away by the Elders for a week, and you emerged unscathed, even compiling texts afterward. The Chief Priest was busy all week, and then he mysteriously died, with his family being taken over by me. Then the Priesthood merged, with the High Priest as the leader. What do you think the Elder Priests would think?"


    It dawned on Xiulote then, and he chuckled at himself ruefully, realizing this was a textbook example of borrowed authority.


    After thinking for a moment, he sighed softly, "The thoughts conveyed by text will always be interpreted by the people of the era, in accordance with the wishes of the times." S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Throughout December, the Priestly Temple was the center of Xiulote¡¯s activities. He woke early and returned late each day, teaching characters, reciting various articles from memory, watching as the fundamental texts slowly grew thicker.


    In the meantime, he did not forget to instruct the old carpenter Kuode to continue expanding longbow production. The production capacity had rapidly increased, making it possible to produce dozens of longbows each day. Kuode had now been promoted to the position of Director of Craftsmen in the Capital City, commanding thousands of craftspeople. He was also responsible for the acquisition of copper mines and copper vessels for the production of bronze tools, to improve productivity.


    And when he found leisure time in his daily routine, Xiulote would return to Montezuma Palace, to be with his beloved spirit, the beautiful and pure Alisa.


    "You are a flower out of time, blossoming in the solitude of my heart," the boy said as he held the girl¡¯s hand, moving to kiss her cheek.


    The girl smiled slyly, using her finger to block the boy¡¯s advance. She lowered her head to whisper in the boy¡¯s ear.


    "The flower has not yet bloomed. I have yet to see clearly into your heart! You naughty brother," she said.


    Having spoken, the girl drifted away like a gust of wind.


    The boy watched her retreating figure, standing for a long time, his heart filled with a sense of loss.


    It wasn¡¯t until a light cough sounded that Xiulote realized Gillim had been standing beside him, and for how long, he didn¡¯t know.


    Gillim, clad in a simple brown robe, smiled faintly.


    "The princess is still young, Your Highness need not be so hasty,"


    Xiulote¡¯s face flushed red. Having narrowly escaped death, his outlook on life had changed significantly. He felt an urgent sense of impatience for the people and things he loved, indeed perhaps a bit too eager.


    Gillim then bowed solemnly.


    "Your Highness has inquired several times about the land situation in the Capital City. Tomorrow happens to be free, and I could take Your Highness on a tour,"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s face became serious. Land was a matter of great importance to the nation; only by personally assessing and understanding the allocation of the land could one deliberate on state affairs.


    With this in mind, he bowed his head deeply in respectful return.

 Chapter 176 - 104: Analysis of Social Classes in Mexica: Land and Labor Force

    The setting sun cast a slanting glow, painting the sky with picturesque reds and pinks. An eastward breeze carried the rich scent of blooming flowers.


    After leaving the Montezuma Palace, Xiulote headed to his new home not far away. Walking through the zoo of wild animals, passing the city lake in the palace district, he arrived at a Priest Mansion topped with white stone and red tiles.


    Not long ago, his grandfather had moved from Teotihuacan, and he had moved out of Aweit¡¯s residence to live here. Aweit had become quite busy since his accession. Apart from the first night when they had feasted together, they had hardly seen each other over the past few weeks.


    In public, the King had to maintain a solemn and majestic demeanor, and Xiulote too had to observe the proper etiquette. If not for the adorable Alisa as a link between them, the two of them would probably have gradually drifted apart into a relationship of monarch and servant.


    The new mansion wasn¡¯t large, and there weren¡¯t many servants. However, there were quite a few Samurai, roughly one to two hundred, and about a dozen Longbowmen. Most of the Samurai were familiar faces from Teotihuacan, whereas the Longbowmen were followers of Xiulote. After all, his family had been away from the Capital City for some time, and it was necessary to bring trusted people from the Holy City. The Samurai were armed to the teeth, not shedding their armor, and they all saluted respectfully when they saw Xiulote return to the mansion. He responded with a slight nod of acknowledgement.


    Beneath the calm facade of the Capital City, there were turbulent undercurrents. The Great and the Nobility all had private armies and family Samurai on their Fiefs. Without a certain amount of force, it was impossible to live peacefully at the center of Mexica power. Moreover, his grandfather was undertaking a massive religious reform, which was bound to harm the interests of the Great Nobility and some Priests. Enemies would certainly not be in short supply.


    Before entering the house, Xiulote heard the incessant "chirping" sound. He wondered in his heart: Could the little golden eagle actually know he was coming back, and be calling out to welcome him?


    He then strode into the house, only to see little Aviloztli hiding in the innermost layer of a wooden box nest, calling out in fright and helplessness. Not far away, a little green snake was hissing behind a wooden board, threatening the little golden eagle with its head raised high.


    Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. Ah, a golden eagle being threatened by a Water Serpent.


    The little green snake couldn¡¯t really do anything from behind the wooden box. It hissed for a while, and upon seeing Xiulote return to the room, slithered over nimbly. It then wriggled into the boy¡¯s pant leg and coiled around his calf to rest warmly.


    Having regained his freedom, Xiulote had gone to the elder to ask for little green. Snakes were common pets among the Priests, signifying the favor of the spirits. The elder pondered for a moment, then gave a slight nod without saying anything. He handed the boy two bottles of a pale yellow Potion for external application on Snake Poison and a bottle of a pale green Potion for internal use, which needed to be carried at all times.


    After that, Xiulote kept little green in the house, even fitting its tail with a Priest¡¯s copper ring to prevent it from being accidentally hurt by the servants. During the day, the little green snake would go to swim in the city lake and stealthily feast on beautiful tropical ornamental fish, sometimes even bringing one back for the boy. At night, it would punctually return, scare the little golden eagle, and then find a warm spot to sleep.


    Xiulote looked again at little Aviloztli. The little golden eagle was now five months old, and its body was steadily growing. Its wings were now entirely covered with new brown Feathers and could flap to fly a short distance. When its feathers became fully grown and black, it would be able to soar freely in the sky. Its size was many times that of the little green snake, but it was still somewhat timid and unaware of its own strength.


    Seeing Xiulote approach, little Aviloztli flapped its wings joyfully, crashing into the boy¡¯s arms and then calling incessantly with a "woo woo" sound. The boy¡¯s hands felt the weight, and he swiftly caught the little golden eagle, feeling the warmth and softness of its feathers. Then, he gently rubbed its head, and the little bird cooperatively swayed back and forth. Hmm, Aweit had trained it well. It was just that he had been too busy recently to take much notice of it.


    "Perhaps, I should invite Aweit over here for a relaxed chat," Xiulote pondered quietly to himself.


    There was no conversation overnight, and he slept well. Early the next morning, Gillim came to visit in simple casual wear. Xiulote placed the little golden eagle on a high stone platform and called for Bertade and a few followers. They set out from the house simply and discreetly. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The market of Tenochtitlan was still bustling, with merchants coming and going from all directions, seemingly unchanged.


    However, Xiulote knew that merchants were the most common spies among the Mexica tribes. The news of the extermination of the Texcoco Royal Family and the consolidation of power within the Mexica Alliance had certainly been spread by the merchants from all parts. The religious reforms had just started and were still brewing, not drawing too much attention yet.


    Gillim led Xiulote to a secluded Lake Bay in the Capital City. Two small boats were already waiting there. Gillim invited him with a bow, and Xiulote boarded one boat with Bertade. The guards took another canoe. Then, swiftly sailing out, the three of them headed toward the Chinampa clusters in the middle of the lake.


    Protected by the embankments, the entire Texcoco Lake was completely under control and divided into several sections by Long Bridges. The Mexica constructed extensive Chinampa floating fields in the lake, with neat canals built between them. The Mexican Valley was warm enough, and the Chinampas never lacked water. As long as fertility was timely replenished, crops could be grown all year round.


    The three men landed on the Royal Family¡¯s Chinampa. Xiulote looked out to see hundreds of farmers laboring on different plots, working tirelessly throughout the year. The lake¡¯s floating fields required labor-intensive agriculture, calling for careful and precise farming. The Royal Family and the Great Nobility owned a large number of skilled peasants and slaves engaged in cultivation. The Nobility wielded strong control over their vassal peasants, and the price for slaves skilled in farming was also extremely high.

 Chapter 177 - 104: Analysis of Mexica Social Classes: Land and Manpower_2

    It was December, and the harvest of cocoa, avocados, and herbs had just been completed. The royal Chinampas were once again planted with staple crops like corn and soybeans, while pumpkin had not yet been sown. There was also a dedicated area for growing a variety of spices and chili peppers. The floating fields on the lake were lush and green, forming a stark contrast with the barren farmland along the distant lakeshore.


    Standing on the Chinampa, Xiulote smelled a faint scent of river mud and the peculiar odor of manure. During the planting of the new staple crops, the soil fertility needed to be replenished. It was the dry season, and small boats clearing silt were everywhere on the lake. Villages along the lake had to provide labor to dredge river mud for the royal family and the nobility.


    "The Lake Capital City has about nine thousand hectares of Chinampas in total. The Chinampas are the foundation of the Lake Capital City and also the foundation of the Mexica people. A single hectare of Chinampa can feed at least twenty commoners."


    Seeing the farmers busily planting, Gillim was in good spirits and rarely showed a smile.


    Xiulote nodded. After thinking for a while, he asked a question that had been on his mind for some time.


    "Who has control of these Chinampas? What are the exact numbers?"


    Gillim pondered for a long time, calculated in his mind several times, and then answered seriously.


    "We are currently seizing the land of the Prince of Texcoco and the nobility, and I have also sent people to carefully survey the land situation of the Capital City. Only the royal family, princes, great nobility, priests, lesser nobility, and commoner samurai can control the Chinampas. Ordinary commoners, craftsmen, and merchants do not have the privilege to control the highly productive Chinampas."


    "The royal family owns about two thousand five hundred hectares, which is the most accurate figure. The two princes have nine hundred hectares, we just confiscated all five hundred hectares from the Texcoco Prince, and half of the two hundred hectares from the Tlacopan Prince. Of course, the two princes still possess villages and ordinary farmlands beyond their respective city-states, which are not accounted for at present."


    "The great nobility owns roughly two thousand four hundred hectares of Chinampas, almost as much as the royal family. This figure isn¡¯t entirely accurate, it could be anywhere between two thousand to three thousand hectares because it is difficult to scrutinize the lands of the great nobility. The land of the priests is estimated at around nine hundred hectares; you can go back and ask the High Priest for the exact number. The lesser nobility owns approximately one thousand four hundred hectares, while the commoner samurai should also have something in the region of nine hundred hectares."


    "The lands of the great nobility and priests are connected to each other. The lesser nobility own smaller areas. The land of the commoner samurai is completely scattered, only allowing for a rough estimate."


    Xiulote nodded solemnly. He did a quick calculation and then asked in surprise.


    "The royal family and great nobility each have nearly thirty percent of the land, princes, priests, and commoner samurai each have ten percent, and lesser nobility have fifteen percent. Does this mean that the land is entirely concentrated in the hands of the highborn? Approximately how many people are there in each social stratum?"


    Gillim nodded gravely and spoke in a deep voice.


    "Indeed, the highborn hold the land and wealth of the Alliance, and likewise, they hold the Alliance¡¯s manpower. The royal family and each prince have several hundred people, with dependents numbering in the tens of thousands. The several dozen great noble houses of the Capital City have thousands of members, with tens of thousands more attached to them. The priests number in the hundreds, with several thousand servants. The lesser nobility also number in the thousands with tens of thousands of dependents. The commoner samurai are roughly over ten thousand strong, and if including their families, also amount to tens of thousands."


    "These six groups are the true rulers of the Capital City. In the Alliance¡¯s Heavenly Divine Tree, the royal family is the main trunk reaching for the sky, the great nobility are the thick branches, the priests are the connecting bark, the lesser nobility and the samurai are the outer leaves, while the rest - the hundreds of thousands of farmers, city dwellers, craftsmen, and merchants - are merely the roots providing nourishment."


    Hearing this, Xiulote reflected on the power structure of the Alliance.


    In the Triple Alliance of Mexica, the royal family is the government of the Mexica, exercising the responsibility of leading the Alliance. Below the king, the four-person governing group of the Alliance is all of the royal kin, and he himself is likely to enter as an heir. The royal family itself is made up of nobles of various sizes, divided into many branches, and many are enfeoffed to other nations. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The royal family, great nobility, and priests commonly intermarry and are closely connected. This is why the annihilation of the Texcoco line was such a huge shock and had extensive implications. However, the Texcoco lineage was relatively independent and had fewer ties to the royal family. If action were to be taken against the great nobility of Tenochtitlan later, it is feared even the royal family itself could split and possibly rebel.


    The lesser nobility and commoner samurai are actually not much different. A lesser noble without military merits could be demoted to a commoner samurai, with partial land confiscation. In contrast, an outstanding commoner samurai might be promoted to a nobility awarded lands. They do not possess the capacity for hereditary succession, and each household comprises only a few dozen people. These warrior classes provide the military force for the Alliance in wars and can be considered the extremities of the ruling class.


    Further down, ordinary commoners are strictly restricted, organized into communities, and serve as the basic units of the ruled. Commoners have to pay tribute, participate in agricultural production, provide labor, produce goods needed by the rulers, and supply militia in times of war. In this era, commoners have no say in matters.


    A moment later, Xiulote asked another critical question.


    "If one hectare of Chinampa can support at least twenty commoners, how many samurai can each social stratum mobilize?"


    Gillim thought for a moment, which was also of concern to him. He calculated in his mind and estimated cautiously.


    "Theoretically, supporting one samurai is equivalent to supporting three commoners. The royal family¡¯s maximum support capacity should be seventeen thousand people. But in reality, the royal family needs to cultivate luxury goods, and support a large number of servants, musicians, and singers. The actual samurai directly dependent on the royal lands are only about ten thousand, of which five thousand belong to the family¡¯s warriors, and five thousand are enfeoffed. And with taxes from the Capital City and tributes from the alliance, an additional two thousand samurai can be specially supported."

 Chapter 178 - 104: Analysis of Mexica Social Classes: Land and Manpower_3

    "The fiefs of Chinampa and villages owned by the two Princes could support a private army of six thousand, but in reality, it was four thousand Samurai. Plus, the market taxes from the two cities should be able to additionally support another thousand. After this internal purge, only the last thousand of the private army would remain under the control of the Prince of Tlacopan."


    "Similarly, the lands of the Great Nobility could support nearly seventeen thousand Samurai. However, the Great Nobility also need substantial wealth to maintain their noble lifestyles. Their private armies add up to about ten thousand, equivalent to the Royal Family¡¯s military force, and they can also mobilize militia from the villages they own. As the military forces are distributed among different families, the Royal Family tries to win over part of the Great Nobility to suppress the entire group, ensuring their military forces follow the King¡¯s command."


    "The lands of the Priests could support up to six thousand Samurai, but the Priests themselves need a large amount of wealth to sustain their lives and faith, and many donations are unaccounted for. Currently, the Temple Guards number only two thousand and are not easily deployed. They would only send out guards to protect the War Priests during alliance wars."


    "The lands of the Lesser Nobility could support ten thousand Samurai, and the actual number of Samurai is also ten thousand. This includes two thousand elite Noble Battle Groups, who are better equipped. Meanwhile, the commoner Samurai of Chinampa could support six thousand Samurai. Typically, they reduce their own compensation and, with the help of their community families, make an effort to support additional younger Samurai."


    As Gillim analyzed, the stratified powers of the Capital region gradually became clear in Xiulote¡¯s mind. He gained a deeper understanding of Mexica society."


    Xiulote then organized his thoughts and summed up the land and manpower of each class in Mexica."


    "The Royal Family owns close to thirty percent of the land, with about 35% influence. They have the authority to levy market taxes and distribute Alliance tributes. Specific allocations are in the hands of different ranks of the Royal Family, with the King having the decisive power. The Royal Family firmly controls a military force of twelve thousand."


    Xiulote looked at Gillim, who nodded in confirmation."


    "The Princes have ten percent of the land, with 10% influence. After the major purging, it¡¯s all temporarily attributed to the Royal Family, awaiting subsequent distribution. The same Princes have four thousand vassal Samurai awaiting distribution from the Royal Family. The Prince of Tlacopan also has one thousand private troops."


    Gillim slightly smiled, "The elder¡¯s action was quick, precise, and ruthless, controlling the two Princes in a day and a night. They had absolutely no time to react, nor could they rally military forces to launch a rebellion."


    Xiulote also expressed admiration with a sigh. Then, he slightly frowned."


    "The Great Nobility owns nearly thirty percent of the land, with about 25% influence. But they completely evade taxes, even siphoning off market taxes, participating in the distribution of Alliance tributes. The Great Nobility are nearly autonomous, passed down through generations, maintaining private armies and taking on disciples. They are inextricably linked with the nation and will send troops to participate in Alliance wars. Their military force of private armies is about ten thousand."


    Gillim¡¯s expression turned solemn, and he slowly began to speak."


    "Although the Great Nobility are the pillars of the nation, their power should be suppressed as much as possible. The Alliance¡¯s control over the Great Nobility is really too weak! Outside the lake region of the three capitals and Four States, the influence of the Royal Family is minimal. In the other Seven States, the Great Nobility have replaced the Royal Family as the actual rulers of the City-States. Across the entire Alliance, their influence constitutes at least forty percent." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote paused briefly and then nodded slowly. In fact, in Teotihuacan, his own family was the largest comprising of Priests and Great Nobility.


    "Priests only own ten percent of the land, and with the addition of religion, their influence is around 15 percent. Likewise, the priestly class is exempt from paying taxes and enjoys generous treatment. But the priestly layer is an important force in maintaining the Alliance. They have their reach in every village and community within the Alliance, forming the basis of national control over the Alliance, equivalent to officials at all levels."


    According to the rules, the priestly class does not have legitimate inheritance rights. Lower priests must strictly adhere to the rules and are not allowed to marry. The military force controlled by the priests includes two thousand well-equipped and high-spirited Temple Guards."


    Gillim first nodded, acknowledging that the priestly class is the most important network of maintenance among the City-States of the Alliance. Then he smiled slightly, looking at Xiulote. Marriage inheritance among high priests was exceedingly common.


    Xiulote¡¯s face turned slightly red, and he continued his analysis.


    "Militia nobility control fifteen percent of the land, and their influence is reduced, about 10 percent. They cannot pass on their titles by inheritance, so they can be better controlled and commanded by the King. They can provide ten thousand Samurai. Peasant Samurai own ten percent of the Chinampa. Some of the Samurai come from villages near the Lake Region. They have the least influence and say, estimated at only 5 percent. They can provide eleven thousand Samurai."


    Bertade, who had been listening for a while, then calmly interjected.


    "The life of a peasant Samurai is extremely difficult. The Samurai need to engage in labor and go out hunting to earn income to support future generations of family Samurai. Although they are slightly inferior in Martial Arts and have simpler equipment, they possess a stronger determination to fight and a strong will to change the future, making them a truly reliable force."


    Xiulote nodded seriously in agreement. Most of his followers were from peasant Samurai backgrounds. They were brave in battle, not afraid of death, and possessed higher loyalty. In everyday conversations, the young man could feel their desire for victory and reward; these peasant landlords were indeed the future of historical development!


    In total of the Capital¡¯s three City-States, the Royal Family had twelve thousand, the Prince five thousand, the Great Nobility ten thousand, the Priests two thousand, the lesser nobility ten thousand, and the peasant Samurai eleven thousand, all adding up to fifty thousand Samurai directly belonging to the King of the Four States! This was the core military force of the Mexica, the absolute power governing the States.


    As Xiulote looked out over the vast Lake Texcoco, at the endless floating gardens on the lake, tumultuous thoughts welled up in him. Land was everything in Mexica society; controlling the land also meant controlling the Mexica. The strength of every social class was dependent on the land, and thus, the struggles between them would inevitably revolve fiercely around land.


    The young man¡¯s thoughts soared towards the future and beyond.


    "The current Mexica society is ruled jointly by the King, the royal family, and the Great Nobility. They intermarry among each other, with the powerful ones on top."


    "But the future development of the era is to establish a real mature state, the separation of the Royal Family from the Government, the weakening of the Great Nobility class, the strengthening of the Priestly class, and the rise of the Militia Nobility and Peasant Samurai! Once metal tools become widespread and the productive forces increase again, the economic foundation for reform as per Shang Yang will mature, and a new era will also begin."


    At this thought, the recent memories of the Blood-colored Temple flashed through his mind. He sighed deeply.


    "Perhaps, there might be better ways to reduce the cost of future reforms."

 Chapter 179 - 105: Alliance, Villages and Nobility Privileges

    Under the noonday sun, the floating fields shimmered, encouraging the growth of the corn¡¯s new sprouts. A cool breeze swept across the surface of the lake, bringing with it the moist scent of earth. The three of them then took to a small boat, navigating through the waterways of the Chinampa. Xiulote wore a plain ritual robe, Gillim simple cloth garments. Bertade was clad in unadorned leather armor, bearing a longbow on his back.


    Seeing the three of them, the farmers on the Chinampa bowed their heads in greeting. They showed sincere respect for Xiulote¡¯s status as a low-ranking priest, then continued with their work, planting flowers in the gaps of the floating fields. There was always endless work to be done on the Chinampa.


    "The Texcoco Lake District is the foundation for the Alliance¡¯s dominion over the tribes. Within a range of a hundred or two hundred li from the capital, there dwell one and a half million people of the lake region. Their journey to the capital takes mere three to five days, thus they are tightly controlled. The royal family¡¯s direct samurai number fifty thousand, and the other Seven States have approximately the same number. Only by relying on the superior force of the direct samurai can we suppress the city-states of the entire Alliance,"


    Gillim spoke solemnly about the current situation, with a trace of gravity between his brows.


    "If the other Seven States can muster fifty thousand samurai, then shouldn¡¯t they also have a population of about one and a half million?"


    Xiulote pondered as he asked.


    "The population of the other Seven States should be slightly more than one and a half million, as there are still unyielding wild tribes in the mountains and forests. After all, the lake region is richer, with a higher proportion of samurai who also have better equipment. However, the land of the lake region has been developed to its limit, with complete water channels, and the population has reached its peak. Whereas the other Seven States still have vast tracts of uncultivated land, they can still construct water channels along the Tampen and Lerma Rivers, and build Chinampa,"


    Gillim recalled related intelligence gravely. As long as sufficient investment was made, the population of the other Seven States could still grow further. However, the central authority had no drive to develop these regions.


    "Outside the Four States of the capital, the Great Nobility and priests replace the Royal Family and princes in standing, occupying the vast majority of the land to become the local rulers. The proportion of the lower nobility and commoner samurai remains basically unchanged."


    Xiulote mused for a moment. He remembered the amount of land his family owned in Teotihuacan and did some calculations in his mind.


    "The proportion of the land owned by the Great Nobility in each city-state is 55%, priests 20%, lower nobility 15%, and commoner samurai 10%. The estimated influence is roughly 55%, 30%, 10%, 5%, with the might amounting to twenty thousand private armies of the Great Nobility, five thousand Temple Guards, ten thousand private armies of the lower nobility, and eleven thousand commoner samurai."


    "If we aggregate a population of three million, the Royal Family and Government¡¯s influence in the Alliance is only 18%, princes 5%, Great Nobility 40%, priests 22%, lower nobility 10%, commoners 5%."


    Xiulote was secretly alarmed. These specific numbers had no great significance, as they were only rough estimates. However, the numbers revealed the current state of the Mexica Alliance: kin to a feudal state with loosely stratified nobility, or like the loose tribal alliances on the Eurasian steppes.


    The influence of the Great Nobility was alarmingly high, operating with complete autonomy, and their loyalty wavered. And the lower nobility often obeyed their local Great Nobles. To suppress the noble powers of the various localities, one had to strengthen the royal forces, ally with priests and commoner samurai, and vie for the support of the lower nobility. To promote the use of metal tools in the future, priority had to be given to the directly governed territories, strengthening the core force. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The atmosphere grew somber. After a brief moment, Gillim finally spoke.


    "Not far to the west is the village of Tlacopan. The village is the foundation of Mexica society, we might as well take a look there. The Prince of Tlacopan has already ceded the land there, and I also need to understand the local development situation,"


    Xiulote nodded in agreement. He wanted to learn more about the most fundamental levels of village community. The boat then cut a nimble arc, speeding towards the western shore of the lake.


    The outermost parts of the west bank were also neatly divided Chinampas, belonging to the nobility or the royal family. Along the impressive Prepetcha Highlands water channels, both sides spanned with a dense array of villages and continuous farmlands.


    Viewing the vast farmlands, Gillim¡¯s smile appeared once more. To the Mexica of that era, they believed they had perfected the development of the valley.


    The slash-and-burn milpas covered the plains of the valley. Relying on the high yield of American crops, each hectare of milpa could sustain three to five people, the output even surpassing the sparse drylands of Spain. While it couldn¡¯t compare to the twenty people per hectare supported by the Chinampa, it was still a magnificent achievement for the Stone Age.


    Xiulote sighed lightly. He was not satisfied. Current agricultural production had enormous deficiencies. Limited river silt and manure had to be supplied first and foremost to the Chinampa floating fields, hence milpas couldn¡¯t be cultivated continuously and had to be cycled with fallow periods to maintain fertility.


    And more crucially, without metal tools and large draft animals, the most basic and important practice of deep plowing in ancient agriculture couldn¡¯t be conducted. Replacing human labor with animal power, iron plows with wooden ones, and large scythes with small ones were the first epoch-making advances in the history of agriculture, their significance even comparable to the First Industrial Revolution. Likewise, this was the foundation for developing the deep-rooted grassy plains of North America.


    The boat docked at the shore. The three of them disembarked, followed by four or five samurai. Not far ahead was a village. Xiulote saw sturdy storehouses and temples made of white stone from afar within the village with mud-walled and grass-roofed buildings, indicating the wealth of this village. He headed towards the center of the community.


    The Mexica villages were mostly still in the stage of collective tribal communes under public ownership. Four-man teams were responsible for village affairs, constructing collective storage warehouses and priest temples. Typically, every two hundred people had a squad leader, in charge of food distribution, work assignments, and lodging arrangements within the squad. Squad leaders were wealthier, able to support their own samurai to manage and intimidate the villagers.

 Chapter 180 - 105: Alliance, Villages and Nobility Privileges - Part 2

    Every year, from April to June and August to October, during the busy agricultural seasons, the villagers collectively worked with stone tools. The remaining time was the agrarian downtime, during which they produced stone tools, wove cotton fabric, ground cornmeal, collected wood, and repaired homes and warehouses. Additionally, they excavated river mud for the Lord, constructed water channels and buildings for the Alliance, and during wartime, they were responsible for food transportation and served as battlefield militia.


    In sum, in this era, the life of a peasant was endlessly busy, devoid of any idyllic leisure. Their lives did not belong to them.


    Before the group approached, the intense clamor along with the thud of war clubs striking shields could be heard from a distance. Bertade¡¯s expression changed. He quickly stepped forward, positioning Xiulote behind him. Gillim¡¯s expression also turned solemn. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The three passed through the thatched huts and saw at the village center a samurai wearing Family-Crested Leather Armor, loudly haranguing something. At his feet knelt an elderly Village Elder, with a white-robed Village Priest standing beside him, looking anxious and incessantly arguing.


    Nearby, around a hundred samurai in Cotton Armor were pillaging the central warehouse and nearby houses, appearing to be collecting the tribute. Some held cornbreads, others carried cotton fabrics, dragged turkeys, rabbits, and dogs, and still others bore various pottery and stone tools. Occasionally, a samurai swung a war club and shield, intimidating villagers attempting to interfere. The others were busily delighted, beaming with joy.


    On the outskirts, less than ten civilian samurai accompanied hundreds of village strongmen, holding simple weapons, gathered together in fear and anger.


    Xiulote quickly counted, noting there were four groups of samurai in Cotton Armor, eighty men in total. This was a force a single village could not resist. Even with the wealth of the Lake Region, after paying tribute, a village of this thousand-person scale could only support less than ten full-time samurai, plus several hundred village strongmen, barely resisting an assault of forty samurai.


    Thus, the tax collection teams of each City-State were typically between forty and sixty people. Teams of eighty were rare because the samurai often took additional profits for themselves, which damaged the village¡¯s wealth and, by extension, the Lord¡¯s interests.


    Xiulote glanced at Bertade, and the Head Warrior nodded slightly. He quickly moved forward, approaching the lead tax-collecting samurai.


    "...The noble Prince of Tlacopan demands this year¡¯s tribute! Everyone must obey the commands of the Alliance! As the Village Priest, you must also submit to the Lord of the Village, the great Prince of Tlacopan!"


    The taxing samurai¡¯s expression was fierce. He used his war club to strike his shield, intimidating the still-persistent Village Priest. This Priest from the village was always troublesome and held a special status, making direct action difficult. As for the kneeling village Elder pleading below him, he barely gave him a glance.


    "Honorable sir, every year our tribute is paid according to the standards of the Alliance. Why is there so much more this year! The village truly cannot afford it. Please, sir, consider a reduction!"


    The white-robed Priest bowed deeply, earnestly grasped the arm of the taxing samurai, and whispered his plea.


    The taxing samurai furrowed his brow. He pushed the white-robed Priest impatiently and shouted casually.


    "That¡¯s because the merciful Prince has always been lenient; you¡¯ve already accrued much debt. This is the last tax collection, and it must be paid in full now! The laws of the Alliance have always been thus, the Nobility of Tlacopan all follow this standard! Hmm? If you don¡¯t believe it, you can go to Tlacopan now and inquire!"


    Without written laws and decrees, it was up to the Nobility to decide how much to collect. How could the white-robed Priest leave now? He could only plead repeatedly, hoping for a compassion that the taxing samurai did not possess.


    Bertade approached with long strides. His face was calm, his eyes suppressed with anger, and he asked sternly.


    "The New Year hasn¡¯t even started. The date for the Alliance to collect tribute hasn¡¯t arrived, so why are you collecting taxes now?!"


    The taxing samurai sized up Bertade¡¯s plain attire, initially disregarding him. Then, noticing his poised way of walking, his pupils contracted. Finally, his gaze lingered on the longbow behind him and he finally showed disdain.


    "Hmm? Where did this Rogue Warrior come from, using such a despicable weapon as a bow and arrow! When to collect taxes is surely decided by the Prince of Tlacopan. Is the Prince¡¯s command something you can question? Get lost!"


    Saying this, he swung his war club, and several samurai quickly gathered around, half-encircling Bertade.


    Bertade remained composed. He continued to question solemnly.


    "This land and village will soon be under the jurisdiction of the Royal Family. If you are collecting excessive taxes now, are you handing them over to the Alliance? When the New Year begins and the Royal Family officially collects taxes, what will these villagers pay with?"


    Hearing this, the kneeling Village Elder suddenly looked up, disbelievingly staring at the taxing samurai. The white-robed Priest also stepped back in astonishment, then quickly relayed the message to the village¡¯s warriors and strongmen.


    The village warriors, who had been enduring, could no longer restrain themselves. They shouted loudly, and the armed strongmen also boiled over with rage. Everyone brandished their weapons, bolstering each other¡¯s courage as they approached the equally armed samurai in Cotton Armor, on the verge of erupting into violence.


    The taxing samurai¡¯s eyes flashed with malice. He gestured to his left and right, then moved towards Bertade filled with killing intent.


    Xiulote had been calmly observing; now he nodded at his followers, then proudly stepped forward. A follower took out a rare horn bestowed by the elders and blew it loudly. The deep and resonant sound echoed across the land, and everyone momentarily paused, turning their gaze together.

 Chapter 181 - 105: Alliance, Villages and Nobility Privileges_3

    Xiulote¡¯s expression was dignified, with an air of superiority unique to those of high status. He calmly walked to the center of the crowd, stared into the eyes of the taxing Samurai, and loudly rebuked:


    "Samurai of Tlacopan, the taxes you collect exceed the regulations of the Alliance. The Prince of Tlacopan is a man who knows his place, never opposing the Alliance. His intention was merely to collect taxes one last time, yet you took this opportunity to ruthlessly exploit and drive the village to desperation. Utterly foolish!"


    The taxing Samurai was taken aback. He was overwhelmed by Xiulote¡¯s presence, hesitantly took half a step back, and gestured for the Samurai ready to take action to stop. Then, he scrutinized the young man before him. Although clad in the robes of a low-ranking Priest, the youth possessed a dignified and elegant visage, along with an indescribable quality.


    Feeling a slight fear in his heart, he hesitated and asked, "May I ask who your Excellency is?"


    Xiulote, however, paid him no heed and continued his rebuke: "Who do you think you can deceive with such actions? Have you ever considered the consequences if the Alliance and the Prince were to become adversaries? Are you prepared to calm the Royal Family¡¯s wrath with your own head?"


    Hearing this, the taxing Samurai¡¯s face alternated between shades of red and white. The tone and insight indicated that he was indeed facing an important figure. Immediately, he reevaluated the youth¡¯s age, recalling the Venerables of similar youth. Moments later, he was struck by a shocking realization.


    He quickly glanced again at the young man and the Longbow behind Bertade, no longer hesitant, he hastily commanded the other Samurai to sheathe their weapons. Following that, he kneeled before Xiulote and prostrated himself reverently.


    "To think that it is the great and wise ¡¯Divine Revelator¡¯ himself here! I was truly blind earlier, failing to recognize your true visage. To be blessed with your teachings is as fortunate as meeting a deity!"


    Xiulote was slightly taken aback. "Divine Revelator"? Where did that title come from? He had no time to ponder, simply gazing coldly at the taxing Samurai before him.


    "You recognize me?"


    "Reporting to your Highness, not long ago on the Long Bridge, when you and the Elder Priest were seeing off the Prince, I was fortunate to be in attendance behind you. To catch a distant glimpse of your beautiful visage was an immense honor!"


    This time, the taxing Samurai¡¯s admiration was truly heartfelt.


    Xiulote¡¯s face darkened. However, in this era, people indeed liked to use flowers as compliments for Samurai. Flowers represented beauty for both men and women in the hearts of the people, leaning more towards the robust male.


    Xiulote refrained from speaking further. He imitated the emotionless gaze of an Elder.


    "Since you have served the Prince, you must be aware of the stakes. You may leave now!"


    The intimidation of that gaze made the taxing Samurai take another step back. Yet after a brief hesitation, he still spoke up.


    "Respected Highness, you can take everything else, but the corn cakes and cotton cloths are by the Prince¡¯s orders, and I must bring them back to be accountable."


    Xiulote¡¯s imperious gaze bore down on the taxing Samurai. With a pressuring look for a moment, he was about to speak again.


    It was then Gillim stepped forward. He had been quietly observing everything with a smile from the back. That was until he saw some young Cotton Armor-clad Samurai, displeased upon hearing the conversation, reaching for their War Clubs again.


    "Fine. You may go now." Gillim smiled faintly, simply giving the taxing Samurai a deep look, memorizing his face.


    Then, the Chief Intelligence Officer turned to Xiulote and whispered lowly.


    "The Prince of Tlacopan has recently pledged allegiance to the Royal Family; there¡¯s no need to stir up disputes over these trifles. I will waive this year¡¯s Tribute from the village."


    Xiulote nodded slightly, then gestured magnanimously for the taxing Samurai to depart.


    The taxing Samurai once again made a deep bow, then hastily led the still indignant taxing party away without looking back. They took away the same number of corn cakes and cotton cloths as in previous years. But this time twice as many people came, and most of the Cotton Armor Samurai did not achieve their expected gains.


    Only then did the village Priest draw the village Elder forward, respectfully greeting with a bow.


    Xiulote offered a few words of reassurance to the village Elder before seriously questioning the village Priest.


    "Behind you stands the Priesthood of the Alliance, the supreme divine authority. Why then are you so powerless against these taxing parties?"


    The village Priest replied with a wry smile.


    "Venerable High Priest, although the divine power of the Priesthood is mighty, it isn¡¯t of much help here in the confines of the village. The local Nobility¡¯s taxation squads act without restraint, and the lords are like kings of the village."


    "If things get too dire, I may have to sacrifice myself to the gods here. By that time, the villagers likely won¡¯t dare to report the truth. The Nobility could simply report an accidental drowning or a Coyote attack, and the matter would be considered closed."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote paused. He fell into deep thought. Clearly, his previous plans had been too naive. For a village Priest to compete with the local Nobility for control of the village, support from armed forces was absolutely essential.


    Most village Priests are indeed selected from the villagers, and their stance is naturally opposed to that of the local Nobility. But for them to play an effective role, they must be equipped with some weapons and receive guidance, mobilization, training, and command of the Militia to support themselves with basic military force locally.


    Then, it is crucial to station organized Temple Guards at key points who can provide timely support to the village Priests and deter surrounding Nobility. The initial operation is the hardest. Once the entire system is truly up and running, the power of the Priests will grow continuously, while the power of the Nobility will be gradually weakened, until a new balance is established.


    Xiulote nodded slowly. He asked in a deep voice,


    "That makes sense. Very clever. What¡¯s your name?"


    The Priest in white grinned with joy, revealing the weathered face of a middle-aged man.


    "Venerable High Priest, I am Bravo of Tlacopan, ready to serve you."


    It was apparent that a village Priest of his age must indeed be a commoner.


    Xiulote nodded slowly. He said no more, simply committing Bravo¡¯s name to memory. Then, amidst the slight disappointment in the other¡¯s eyes, he and Gillim returned the way they came. After returning, he would investigate this Priest further. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The sun had already begun to slant westward. Without lingering in the village, they boarded a small boat amid the profuse thanks of the village leader and set off for the Lake Capital City.


    Navigating over Lake Texcoco, the sunlight was a bright golden yellow, the surface of the lake shimmered with dazzling light. Xiulote gazed far ahead at the Lake Capital City but realized the grandeur and vastness of the Capital City were merely faint ripples here, unable to cascade over the Valley like the sunlight.


    Just as the power of the Royal Family stopped outside the Nobility¡¯s fiefs.


    Xiulote carefully watched the distant Capital City amidst the reflections on the lake for a moment, before slowly turning to Gillim.


    "Exactly what privileges do the Alliance¡¯s Nobility have?"


    Gillim looked solemn. He pondered for a while before seriously answering.


    "Hereditary Great Nobility are fully autonomous, their fiefs are hereditary. The population of the fief don¡¯t pay taxes or perform mandatory services. They provide Tribute once a year, which the King needs to reciprocate. They provide their own private armies during war, but the command typically goes to the sons of the Great Nobility. They levy their own commercial taxes on their fiefs, are allowed private foreign trade. Apart from lacking power in foreign diplomacy, the Great Nobility are nearly kings in their own fiefs. The Royal Family¡¯s Nobility are equivalent to Hereditary Great Nobility, but the King as the head of the Royal Family, has natural authority."


    "For the lesser Nobility who earned their station through military service, they have partial autonomy; their fiefs can only be partially inherited. The population of the fief partially takes on taxes and mandatory services, provide Tribute once a year, reciprocation depends on the King¡¯s favor. They perform military service during war, at least serving as junior officers. Their fiefs don¡¯t include cities, have no commercial taxes, but are similarly allowed foreign trade, with Royal trade caravans taking priority. The greatest control the Royal Family has over the lesser Nobility is the inheritance of the fiefs."


    "The Royal Family must understand, lesser Nobility rise easily, but Great Nobility are hard to demote. The hereditary award of fiefs must be given utmost caution!"


    Finally, with a solemn face, Gillim bowed and recited a Royal maxim.


    Xiulote nodded slightly and responded with due respect. He said nothing further. Gillim, too, remained silent. They watched as the Lake Capital City approached. Under the setting sun, the white Stone City was so majestic and the twin peaks of the Great Temple stood so tall and imposing!


    In the eyes of the youth, lights began to swirl, and his thoughts followed the rays, crossing through time and space.


    Monarchical and divine powers stood quietly in the Capital of the Mexica, waiting and yearning for that destined future to illuminate the world!


    "Even though the road ahead is long, with me,"

 Chapter 182 - 106 Commercial Law

    ```


    A cold January wind blew down from the highlands in the west, passing over the warm Mexican Valley, dry yet bearing a slight chill.


    Xiulote pulled his wide priestly cloak tighter around himself as he slowly made his way toward the Priestly Temple. In the Texcoco Lake District, the early mornings of January hovered around 10 degrees Celsius, but by the sunny midday, it was a comfortable and pleasant 20 degrees.


    Along the way was the grand market of Tenochtitlan. The slight cold could not dampen the enthusiasm of the crowd. With New Year¡¯s festivities just days away on January 12th, nobility and commoners alike from all around had started flocking in. The main city¡¯s market was a sea of people, with at least thirty thousand engaging in trade. In the North City, the scale of commerce was even more astonishing¡ªsixty thousand people.


    Xiulote paid close attention to the market transactions. Villagers, typically wearing simple clothing and barefoot, came with various vegetables, grains, fruits picked from the wilds, spices and even honey, looking for suitable trade partners. Their goals were clear, usually aiming to exchange for stone tools, pottery, tools, and fabric.


    Xiulote stopped to observe for a moment. The value of the same piece of fabric was wildly inconsistent. Sometimes it could be exchanged for a turkey, sometimes for a turkey plus half a bag of black beans, and sometimes even more.


    "Your turkey is a bit too small for this fabric, need to add something extra. How about that jar of honey you¡¯ve got there?" suggested the fabric merchant with seeming nonchalance.


    The farmer hesitated. He looked around, could not find anyone to ask, and then tried to argue on his own.


    "That won¡¯t do, honey isn¡¯t so easy to come by. People in the village say, city dwellers are transformed from hummingbirds, naturally loving honey, a jar can be exchanged for a piece of fabric. And this jar of mine is worth a big piece of fabric too."


    The fabric merchant chuckled.


    "Exchange for a piece of fabric? Why don¡¯t you become a Samurai and rob it outright. Your jar is even chipped, who would want it? I¡¯ll return the jar to you in a bit."


    The farmer felt a little embarrassed. He stood there, shaking his head while holding onto his jar of honey.


    After watching for a while, the cloth merchant spoke with impatience.


    "I¡¯m only after a taste of sweetness, I¡¯ll give you half a piece of fabric, take it or leave it. I¡¯m busy!"


    Having said that, the cloth merchant turned away, busy with who knows what.


    The farmer stood for a moment longer, looked at the merchant¡¯s profile, and then spoke up anxiously.


    "I¡¯ll exchange. I will! But let it be known, I want my jar back."


    The fabric merchant then glanced up with a slight smile.


    "I can give you the jar back. But since the turkey is so small, I¡¯ll have to deduct some fabric, so half of a piece plus half of another piece." With that, he handed five quarters of a piece of fabric to the farmer.


    Xiulote calculated in his mind, though it was said to be a quarter of a piece, it was probably just over a fifth. There were no standard measures in the market to go by.


    The farmer handed over the turkey and the jar of honey to the merchant. As he watched the merchant pour the honey into a whole pottery jar, he happily walked away with the fabric and the chipped jar.


    No sooner had the farmer disappeared, the fabric merchant quickly grabbed the honey jar, instructed someone next to his stall to watch it, and hurried into the inner market.


    Xiulote silently followed. He watched as the cloth merchant reached the edge of the inner market, where he was stopped by Samurai guards. He waved desperately inside, calling out in a low voice. Then, a lavishly dressed great merchant leisurely approached.


    "Look, fresh honey! This is the favorite of the nobility, I went to great effort to obtain it."


    The cloth merchant bowed humbly, with a smile on his face.


    "For just five pieces of fabric¡¯s worth of herbs, I¡¯ll sell it to you."


    The great merchant shook his head lightly.


    "Keep the five pieces of fabric¡¯s worth of herbs to yourself. You can¡¯t sell to nobility if you can¡¯t enter the inner market. Trying to swindle my goods, quite audacious of you!"


    The smile on the cloth merchant¡¯s face faltered then continued smiling.


    "But we can still negotiate, can¡¯t we? Name your price!"


    The great merchant raised three fingers but didn¡¯t speak.


    "That won¡¯t do, it cost me three pieces of fabric to buy it!" the cloth merchant exclaimed.


    The great merchant glanced at the cloth merchant and condescended, causing the latter to quiet down.


    "Alright then, let¡¯s meet halfway, four pieces!" the cloth merchant gritted his teeth and called out.


    The great merchant turned and walked away.


    "Fine, fine! Three pieces then. I want the herbs for home use! I know their price!" the cloth merchant shouted with visible dismay.


    Only then did the great merchant turn back and nod slightly. He called over an Escort and whispered a few words. Shortly after, the Escort came with a small cloth bag, inside was a handful of processed herbs.


    The cloth merchant counted them and then his face lit up with a smile. He bowed to the great merchant and hurried back to his stall. Xiulote observed from a distance, frowning slightly, as these herbs seemed much cheaper than what he knew.


    Xiulote thought for a moment and then slowly followed the lavishly dressed great merchant, watching him walk to the luxury goods shops. Each shop had canopies, and he went under one, hiding whatever he was doing. When he came out, he had acquired an intricately crafted stone bottle.


    Soon, the great merchant left in a hurry too. He wore a kindly smile, making his way to a foreign merchant¡¯s shop, where he found a member of the Great Nobility from the city, and bowed respectfully.


    "Honorable sir. Truly, the Guardian God has blessed me today, for I have received a jar of fresh nectar. The hummingbirds have collected it from around the King¡¯s garden; it should indeed be offered to someone as exalted as yourself."


    With that, he bowed deeply, presenting the stone bottle filled with honey with both hands.


    The member of the Great Nobility was slightly surprised. He gestured towards his attendant. An experienced servant approached respectfully, bowed, took the stone bottle, examined the quality of the honey for a moment, then leaned in close, reporting softly to the noble. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ```

 Chapter 183 - 106 Commercial Law_2

    Having listened, the Great Nobility nodded in satisfaction and once again waved his hand nonchalantly. His servant then took the honey and gave a small tube of gold dust worth ten pieces of cloth.


    The grand merchant once again bowed respectfully. Then, with his head bowed, he received the gold dust with both hands and, smiling, backed away to leave.


    Xiulote stood to the side at a nearby stall with his head lowered, avoiding being recognized by the Great Nobility.


    Soon, the grand merchant hurried past, bringing a light breeze with him. Xiulote caught a glimpse of a face that retracted its smile and was filled with anger.


    "Cunning old fellow, miser!" the grand merchant muttered under his breath with barely audible venom.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment. He continued to wander the inner market, reaching the shops of foreign merchants. Moments later, he learned just how insignificant the grand merchant¡¯s trade was.


    As the New Year festival approached, foreign merchants also brought out their best goods. These transnational traders were the real grand merchants.


    Tarasco merchants wore moon ornaments, deemed evil by Mexica, and sold expensive western copperware. A copper pot the size of an arm demanded at least twenty pieces of cloth.


    Vastec merchants wore only seashells and cloaks made of feathers, selling the vibrant feathers from the north. A feathered garment worn around the body was valued at a full fifty pieces of cloth.


    Mistec merchants adorned with delicate gold and silver jewelry sold beautiful gemstones from the south. They accepted only gold and silver, a piece of turquoise costing half a small bag of gold dust. This gold dust would be reprocessed into costly gold ornaments by them.


    Mayan merchants were distinct in appearance. Their elongated skulls and sincere cockfighting eyes were a symbol of their divinity. Sacred smoke rose sparingly from their stalls, a bag of their rolled smokes equaled a bag of gold dust, and the price of exquisite aromatic divine incense was double that.


    These foreign merchants grouped by region, forming autonomous organizations within the trade area, similar to trade guilds. In the inner market, there were three duty judges and an inspector judge, along with a dozen or so accompanying samurai. The judges were responsible for maintaining market order and cracking down on theft and the sale of inferior products disguised as quality goods.


    Xiulote stepped forward and revealed his identity. In the foreign merchants¡¯ anxiousness to please, he inquired about the situation of their caravans.


    "What do these foreign merchants primarily bring to the great marketplace to sell?"


    "Mainly all kinds of luxury goods. Sacred smoke, spices, embroidery, feathered garments, gemstones, gold and silver ornaments, copperware... oh, and carmine dye," a duty judge reported in detail.


    "Good. And what do they take away?" Xiulote asked earnestly.


    "The Tarasco take away a large amount of cloth, as well as the well salt from within the dominions. The Vastec purchase some fine musical instruments and flowers, along with a few pieces of weaponry and armor. The Mistec carry away a lot of gold and silver, and sometimes also buy cotton armor. As for the Maya, they want everything," another judge interjected with a smile.


    Hearing the names of the products, Xiulote¡¯s eyebrows knitted slightly. He continued to inquire, "What is the daily quantity of transactions?"


    The judges were at a loss for words. They were only four people with a dozen assistants, charged with the management of a marketplace catering to thirty thousand people. Obviously, tallying the numbers was well beyond their capabilities.


    Xiulote thought for a moment before asking another question.


    "How do you collect taxes?"


    "The outer market doesn¡¯t pay taxes. Each merchant in the inner market pays a market fee. Local merchants usually pay in goods, and foreign merchants prefer to pay with the universally accepted cloth. Their trade guilds coordinate with us to agree on the amount to be paid, settling it over a period of time," an older duty judge reported.


    "So, we neither restrict the types of commodities traded nor have any control over the quantity of trade. The commerce tax is very meager and unrelated to the amount of goods. And within the marketplace, foreign merchants govern themselves?"


    Xiulote looked sternly at the senior duty judge. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The old judge bowed his head in a salute. Hearing the reproach, he quickly explained.


    "All the city-states do this. Those figures are simply impossible to tally, even the Maya couldn¡¯t do it. If a merchant brings goods in large enough quantities, we do collect an extra share of goods."


    Xiulote reflected for a moment. Given the insufficient enforcement power and inability to grasp the numbers, it was no wonder that merchants had many ways to evade taxes, so he couldn¡¯t be too harsh on the judges. He continued to inquire.


    "How do you assess the value of goods between trading parties? And how do you manage disputes?"


    "Value? Disputes?" The sole inspector judge was momentarily baffled. He thought for a moment.


    "We have a rough idea of how much the local goods are worth in terms of cloth, and we need to negotiate with foreign merchants about theirs. As long as the trading parties are willing, the trade is finalized without intervention.


    If there¡¯s a dispute, we inspect the quality and quantity of goods. Those who peddle inferior goods as quality and stealers die. To terminate a trade, both parties must return what they¡¯ve received. If the dispute truly cannot be resolved, we let the parties engage in a duel with the loser dying and the winner deciding the outcome."


    Hearing this method of resolution, Xiulote was expressionless and speechless within. After pondering for a moment, he continued to ask.


    "How are disputes like vendettas and robberies against foreign merchants handled here?"


    Being the highest-ranking, the inspector judge answered.


    "Capital City forbids vendettas. Those who kill anyone below Great Nobility die. Duels witnessed by the War God may proceed. But once outside Seven Bridges, the Alliance no longer concerns itself. Against small bands of bandits, large trading caravans can usually hold their own."


    At this point, the inspector judge glanced around. Then, with a deferential smile, he lowered his voice.

 Chapter 184 - 106 Business Law_3

    "Your Highness, if you take an interest in any merchandise, you may simply request it directly from the foreign merchants. Acting overtly might let the news leak and damage your reputation. After all, you are destined to inherit leadership of the Alliance! Ordinary members of the Great Nobility cannot compare with you."


    Xiulote was slightly startled. His thoughts whirled, considering the implications¡ªwere the Great Nobility intercepting foreign merchants? He looked towards the Inspector Judge, who bowed his head in acknowledgment but said nothing further.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then smiled and nodded to the Inspector Judge. With the latter¡¯s respectful send-off, he left the Capital City¡¯s grand market. As he walked, he considered what he had seen and remembered past discussions, forming ideas that flickered through his mind and turned into solid suggestions.


    By the time he reached the Priestly Temple, it was noon. The Elder Priests, having aged, were somewhat fatigued after discussing and setting religious laws all morning. Now, they were snacking and sipping on cocoa and light wine, chatting about the daily trivialities of life in the Capital City.


    An Elder Priest from the Capital City indulgently smoked a divine herb, the air filled with the relaxing scent of tobacco and spices. The other Capital City Elders were accustomed to this, but the Holy City Elders slightly frowned. Xiulote looked at his grandfather. Recognizing a trace of hidden dissatisfaction on his face and recalling his teachings from the Holy City, Xiulote felt certain.


    Upon seeing Xiulote, the Elders all smiled and greeted him, and Xiulote, smiling, bowed his head in return, creating a warm atmosphere.


    He then moved to sit next to his grandfather. His grandfather stroked the young man¡¯s head and smiled faintly. Next to him, separated by a distance, was Acap, who smiled and nodded at the young man, strategically positioned between the Priest Elders of both the Capital and Holy Cities.


    Xiulote first questioned his grandfather.


    "Esteemed High Priest, how did this morning¡¯s discussion on religious laws progress?"


    "My child, this morning, everyone discussed the daily conduct norms for the Royal Family, Nobility, Samurai, and common folk¡ªregulating which behaviors are to be encouraged, which are to be left unchecked, and which are strictly forbidden.


    Your last suggestion was excellent. To conserve life and wealth, a strict prohibition on high-stake gambling will be enacted for everyone below the Great Nobility. Samurai and commoners are not allowed to participate in any gambling or games involving life, except for duels witnessed by the Chief Divine."


    Xutel smiled and nodded, his gaze gentle upon the youth.


    "My child, do you have any suggestions you¡¯d like to convey?"


    Xiulote thought for a moment, bowed solemnly to his grandfather. This gesture caught the attention of the other Elders, who all watched intently. Xutel also straightened up, responding with solemnity.


    Xiulote then slowly began:


    "Esteemed High Priest, I propose a reform of trade laws.


    Firstly, unification of market regulations. Establish written trade laws, appoint Referee Judges knowledgeable in these laws to mediate trade disputes. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Secondly, management of currency and measurements. Integrate the existing cocoa, cotton cloth, and gold and silver, establishing proper exchange rates, and appoint managers for currency exchange. Aim to standardize units of length, weight, and volume.


    Thirdly, management of market prices. Establish benchmark price signs in the market, marked with pictures and text, assign personnel daily to explain these to farmers and commoners, providing basic price references for goods. Keep abreast of merchants¡¯ pricing, and control it when necessary!


    Fourth, strategic resource control. Officially manage the outflow of salt, cotton cloth, and armaments, stockpile copper and tin used in Bronze weaponry, and leather for Leather Armor. Deploy a significant workforce to oversee the market, and when necessary, enforce compulsory acquisition of essential materials!


    Fifth, control of luxury goods. Purify customs, prohibit commonfolk and ordinary Samurai from spending wealth on expensive luxuries. Increase trade taxes, not restricting the use of luxuries by the Nnobility and Priests, but tax luxury goods.


    Sixth, control of divine herbs. While helpful in treating diseases, they can also be addictive and rob vitality. Samurai and Priests must adhere strictly to discipline and avoid divine herbs unless absolutely necessary.


    Seventh, management of foreign merchants. Pursue foreign spies, prevent merchants from approaching military sites. Abolish the autonomy granted to foreign merchant groups, demanding they supply the Alliance with needed strategic resources. Ensure their safety in Mexica¡¯s City-States, deploying military forces when necessary to combat ¡¯bandits¡¯ along their routes!"


    Having stated his seven proposals, Xiulote bowed deeply in solemn reverence. The room fell silent, the Elders¡¯ faces solemn, their expressions stunned.


    Majestically seated at the head, High Priest Xutel watched the youth before him, his expression grave and thoughtful, his demeanor calm and reflective. At last, he offered an almost imperceptible smile.

 Chapter 185 - 107 The King and the Merchant, The Youth and an Old Friend

    With Xiulote¡¯s emphatic suggestion, the Temple fell into silence for a moment, and even the curling wisps of smoke quietly dissipated.


    The Capital City Elder leaned slightly forward, stealthily extinguishing the divine smoke in his hand. Then he stretched out his hand to adjust his clothing, and the half-smoked offering vanished from his sleeve. Following that, the Elder¡¯s face twitched slightly. The divine smoke had just been extinguished, and the embers still hot, had fallen inside his garment, a sensation both painful and oddly refreshing. He bore the pain silently, making no sound, but watched the imposing High Priest and the bowing Xiulote, considering deeply within his heart.


    The High Priest nodded in approval, scanning the surroundings.


    "The sections of the doctrine regarding the merchandising tax have not yet been defined. Although Priest Xiulote¡¯s suggestion is insightful, we still need everyone to discuss and refine it point by point,"


    The Elder Priests nodded in response. Since the High Priest had set a tone of approval, naturally, no one openly objected. They then composed their bearing and sat solemnly in a circle to discuss each point publicly.


    The factions of Central America were in strife, and the city-states stood in opposition to each other. There has always been a loose alliance between the city-states, with no powerful government to exert strong control and form a unified market. Great merchants made huge profits from the price differences among the factions, thus becoming influential. Often, they would spend lavishly, becoming wealthy and even hiring hundreds of Samurai.


    But although the merchants were rich, they were still a weak and powerless class, the ruled, like crops in the fields waiting to be harvested. Local Nobility of all sizes coveted the merchants, demanding from them as they wished. If the timing was right, some of the Great Nobility would even collude with hired Samurai, launching raids on merchant caravans, leaving no survivors.


    In the city-states, the Great merchants were strictly limited in the amount of land they could own and the level of garments they could wear. The loyalty of the hired Samurai had its limits. The Great merchants needed to tribute many goods to obtain the protection of the local rulers.


    The Elders in the Temple had all received generous gifts from the merchants, but now none spoke for them. To the grand Priesthood Divine Tree, merchants were but insignificant insects. In the sacred Temple, Xiulote¡¯s proposal to reform commercial laws and to regulate merchants of low status met no resistance from the Elders.


    Regulating market laws, management of currency and measures, controlling market prices, and managing strategic materials were all considered rightful duties. Such discussions had taken place in the past, but due to a lack of written records and manpower, very few executed them.


    The Elders first briefly discussed the exchange rates of currency, establishing standard amounts for cocoa beans, lengths for cotton cloth, and weights for Gold Dust. Then they decided to send lower-ranking Priests to manage the salt mines near the Capital City, collect tin ore Tribute from the southern city-states of Mexica, and impose in-kind taxes on copper ore merchants. Lastly, they dispatched more judges to restrict the sale of weapons and armor.


    Controlling luxury goods did not cause much uproar either. Mexica society had a strict class hierarchy, advocated for moderation and restraint, and valued agriculture and warfare. Samurai and commoners should not overstep their rank to indulge in expensive luxuries. Levying a luxury tax would increase revenue, but it necessitated the deployment of precious talents proficient in accounting.


    When discussing the control of divine smoke, the Capital City Elder who had smoked earlier made a subtle gesture, and another Capital City Elder spoke up in a deep voice.


    "Divine smoke is a medium for communication between gods and men, allowing us to hear the voices of the gods and to heal bodily afflictions. Samurai do not need to communicate with gods and can be prohibited. But for Priests, perhaps there¡¯s no..."


    The High Priest¡¯s authoritative gaze swept over, pressure emanating from his calm demeanor.


    The Capital City Elder met his gaze, paused, and then continued, "Perhaps it¡¯s not without reason."


    The High Priest nodded and decisively declared, "There are many ways to treat illnesses. Divine smoke can damage vitality, so care should be taken when adding medicinal herbs. Regardless of what you do in private, in public gatherings, Priests are not allowed to smoke divine smoke. Violators will be fined initially, whipped on the second offense, and demoted on the third!"


    The Elder Priests all sobered up and bowed deeply to accept the command. Xiulote pondered for a moment, his grandfather¡¯s new rule seemed to have deeper implications, and it could be used in the future to cleanse the overstated local clergy.


    "Manage foreign merchants, revoke their autonomous rights, but also protect their safety. Deploy military force when necessary to subdue ¡¯bandits¡¯ along the way!"


    Xiulote reiterated his last suggestion, emphasizing the word "bandits."


    At this, the Elders exchanged glances. After a moment, an Elder from the Holy City hesitated before raising a question. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "From where shall the troops to subdue the ¡¯bandits¡¯ be assembled?"


    "Deploy the Temple Guards!" Xiulote answered decisively.


    "We need to expand the Temple Guards, station troops at important passage points, maintain them through the collection of merchandising taxes. These Temple Guards are an extension of the will and action of the Priesthood. Their purpose is not only to protect the trade routes and fight common bandits but also to strike against any ¡¯bandits¡¯ who dare to obstruct the Priests¡¯ actions on a local level!"


    The crowd was inwardly taken aback. Under the pretext of maintaining trade routes, sending Temple military force to the localities was self-evident. They turned their attention to the High Priest.


    The High Priest pondered for a moment, remembering the recent cleansing in Texcoco. His killing intent flickered and then vanished, and he nodded slowly, expressionless.


    "Very well. The Chief Divine is omnipotent, and His majesty must not be offended. Regardless of status, those who rebel must be cleansed with Holy Blood!"


    The Elder Priests remained silent. The Elders from the Holy City were the first to bow and accept the decree. Those from the Capital City hesitated for a moment before also respectfully agreeing.


    The meeting that followed unfolded calmly. The Elders established goals, first to double the size of the Temple Guards in the Capital City to four thousand men. Then they planned to send Envoys to communicate with the King, requesting assistance from the Royal Family¡¯s direct Samurai to combat bandits. Afterward, they continued to settle the details of the doctrine.

 Chapter 186 - 107: The King and the Merchant, The Youth and an Old Friend _2

    As the sun set in the west, the meeting concluded. The Elders bid farewell and hurriedly departed, dispersing with important news.


    The High Priest Xutel once again patted the young man¡¯s head. He looked contently at the resolute youth and said, "My child, you are too reckless. I should have been the one to speak last."


    Xiulote shook his head, staring firmly at his grandfather.


    "The eagle must soar in the sky, facing the wind and rain head-on! I cannot hide atop the Divine Tree, relying on you."


    The High Priest smiled appreciatively. Then, he called for Bertade and doubled the youth¡¯s personal guard, henceforth forbidding him from going out alone.


    Two more days passed. The trade laws were not yet fully determined, and not even the price reference charts were complete. That afternoon, a merchant arrived, presenting New Year¡¯s gifts and requesting an audience with the Venerable.


    Today, without any specific task, Xiulote was practicing archery with Bertade. From dozens of meters away, his arrows never missed their mark, hitting the large human-shaped wooden target in a normally distributed pattern. Beside him, the Divine Archer Bertade maintained a benevolent smile, making no comment on his lord¡¯s archery skills.


    After listening to the guard¡¯s report, the young man waved his hand. The purpose of a merchant¡¯s visit at this time was obvious, indeed news travels fast. He then instructed the guard to convey the message.


    "The High Priest has not returned. Unless it is urgent, he will not receive guests."


    After a while, the guard hurried back and respectfully reported.


    "Respected Highness, the merchant outside claims to be an old acquaintance of yours. He has also presented many gifts; here is the list."


    Speaking so, the guard handed over a wooden board filled with images. Papermaking was just being adopted and literacy was still being taught. Far from widespread, wooden boards with images remained the standard.


    Xiulote took the wooden board, quickly and casually glanced over it. Outfits with feathers, brightly colored gold and silver, odd fruits and flowers, and long-haired slaves of indeterminate gender... His gaze lingered on the golden-yellow axe, a new bronze weapon?


    Xiulote pondered briefly, his curiosity piqued slightly. He handed the wooden board and his longbow to the guard and walked with Bertade towards the front gate to see this so-called old friend.


    Arriving in the front courtyard, from afar, a merchant with an unusual appearance caught his eye. Round chubby face, slender head, tall feather decorations, and dangling silver ornaments. Xiulote paused slightly, recognizing the Mayan merchant as someone somewhat familiar.


    As Xiulote approached, the Mayan merchant scrutinized him carefully, comparing the memory of the youthful boy with the steadfast Samurai before him. Then, he greeted him with a genuinely warm smile.


    "Respected Highness! Your most loyal old friend, the nobility of Tikalo from Tutulxiu greets you! We met once in the market of Metztitlan. At the time, you and Head Warrior Olosh were returning from a hunt, and I was about to invite you to taste the finest sacred tobacco."


    Xiulote recalled for a moment and finally matched the current Tikalo with the swindler Olosh had spoken of, indeed an old acquaintance!


    He smiled faintly and nodded at Tikalo. Then he queried with a smile,


    "Tikalo, how did you end up in Tenochtitlan? And how did you know I reside here?"


    Tikalo¡¯s smile was sincere and warm.


    "Respected Highness, we Mayan merchants wander between city-states, braving the elements, delivering goods people need right to their hands for a modest reward. I¡¯ve been in the capital for several months, and everywhere I go, I hear of ¡¯Divine Revelator¡¯ Highness¡¯s illustrious fame.


    Your Highness invented the Stone-Throwing Behemoth and the Greatbow, Wisdom Revelation. You slaughtered the rebellious former Chief Commander with prowess extraordinary. Recently, you even invented writing and participated in compiling the Code of Law, destined to inherit the greatness of the Alliance, who would not know, who would not admire?


    With the New Year approaching, our Mayan merchant consortium came together, specifically preparing a present for the great Highness. Everyone talked about Your Highness¡¯s life achievements, and only then did I realize the privilege of being considered an old acquaintance of Yours. The consortium sent me as a representative to audaciously visit and offer these presents to You! Please do not consider the gifts insignificant, but accept our admiration."


    Xiulote looked at Tikalo¡¯s radiant smile, then back at the courtyard where piles of feathered outfits, boxes of gold and gemstones, hundreds of fragrant fruits and flowers, and dozens of graceful female slaves bowed their heads. He pondered.


    "Such generous gifts do not come without great requests, surely related to the trade laws. Yet, trade laws are state matters, and there is little room for discussion." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote turned his attention to the last wooden crate. Tikalo confidently lifted the covering cloth, revealing dozens of golden bronze battle axes. The youth stared for a long time, these were indeed the gifts that truly moved him.


    "This is a cunning merchant who will be beneficial for my great cause. What would Aweit do if he were here?" Xiulote thought of Aweit, and then remembered "Monkey" Kuluka. His heart stirred, and he made a decision.


    Xiulote then smiled slightly, gazing at the equally smiling Tikalo with the eyes of Great Nobility. The latter was sincere and respectful, with superficial humility and a merchant¡¯s cunning calculations.


    "Respected Your Highness, these are Bronze Battle Axes made by the people of Tarasco two months ago. They are extremely sharp and extraordinarily sturdy, capable of easily cutting through Leather Armor!" Noticing the youth¡¯s interest, Tikalo started by introducing.


    Xiulote remained impassive, slightly nodding.


    "Respected Your Highness, these are female slaves offered to you by the merchant group¡ªfrom the rhythmically dancing Vastec priestesses, to naturally hostile young ladies of Tlaxcala, the delicate and graceful young women of Mistec, and the untamed and fierce Chichimec females. All are exquisitely beautiful, carefully selected, each with distinctive exotic charm. If Your Highness wishes, you can also make special requests to the merchant group."


    Tikalo¡¯s face was like a spring breeze. According to his experience, dealing with such young and proud nobility, gold and silver finery typically had little effect, while matters of joyous songs often proved to be very effective, tried and true.


    Xiulote¡¯s breathing paused slightly. He felt the presence of beautiful women, a tinge of instinctual desire arising. Immediately thereafter, an image of a girl in white clothes emerged in his mind, her pure smile flowing like a clear spring through his mind, calming his thoughts as he felt slightly abashed. The youth clenched his teeth and gave Tikalo a look, no longer hesitating about his next plan.


    Tikalo observed the young man¡¯s expression, watching his clear eyes and slightly flushed face. He was somewhat puzzled and continued to introduce.


    "Respected Your Highness, these are cherished flowers and fruits from the southern rainforest. Here are the giant white King Lotus, the purple Belladonnas, the enticing Red Lip flowers, the highland Passion flowers, and the Fire Torch Ginger Flower symbolizing the Fire God... all are precious rare plants, not inferior to the Royal Garden!"


    Xiulote nodded, those flowers were indeed wonderfully exotic and beautiful, rare even in future generations and seldom seen.


    "Respected Your Highness, these are fruits I personally harvested from the wilderness, just for you. Here is the fresh Cactus fruit, the yellow Qilin Fruit, the sweet-and-sour Pineapple, the plump Mammy fruit, and the sweet white Custard Apple... all are gifts from the gods, through my hands, presented to one loved by the deities!"


    Xiulote smiled faintly, asking meaningfully.


    "Tikalo, these are fruits beloved by the deities, harvested by you personally?"


    The Mayan merchant nodded his elegant head, smiling confidently and affectionately in reply.


    "Absolutely true! Personally harvested by me, to be presented to you."


    "Good! Since they are loved by the deities..."


    Xiulote calmly stepped back two paces, positioned himself beside the guard Samurais, then coldly and imperiously ordered.


    "Arrest him! I will offer both these fruits and the one who harvested them in sacrifice to the deities!"


    The Armored Warriors thunderously complied, stepping forward. They took out War Clubs, easily knocking down the merchant¡¯s escorts and subduing the submissive servants. Then, the robust warriors advanced on either side, seizing the fully terror-stricken, trembling Mayan merchant, and mercilessly dragged him toward the sacrificial altar.


    Xiulote turned his back on the dragged away merchant. Hearing Tikalo¡¯s urgent cries and pleas for mercy, he could not help but lightly smile.


    Why bother with the merchant¡¯s tricks to subdue experienced and cunning merchants. One should use the king¡¯s advantages, the rules of the warriors, straightforwardly and directly!


    "Those who submit shall live, those who do not shall die, you surely will not make it difficult for me."


    The youth withdrew his smile, then sighed deeply.


    "Old friends remain the same, yet I have inevitably changed."

 Chapter 187 - 108: The Merchant and the Feathers

    The chilly wind blew, causing the flowers and plants in the courtyard to tremble in the cold. The warrior¡¯s hanging feathers swayed silently, rendering the scene solemnly lethal.


    Tikalo looked up at Xiulote¡¯s suddenly imposing back, feeling fear in his heart for the first time. He struggled in vain in the hands of the samurais, desperately shouting aloud.


    "Your Highness! Your Highness! Spare me! I am the close friend of the Head Warrior Olosh, and have been sincere to you since we first met two years ago! The War God is my witness!"


    Listening to the Mayan merchant¡¯s pleas for mercy and the oaths to the War God, Xiulote slightly frowned. The other party was spouting nonsense, yet his psychological defenses remained solid.


    He put away his smile and turned around expressionlessly, watching the merchant coldly.


    "Oh? You are a close friend of Master Olosh? But he told me that you are an utterly deceptive merchant. Since he was young and took a bag of your cigarettes, he has never been able to settle the debt. Today, I will take your life here, and cancel the teacher¡¯s debts in one stroke!"


    Tikalo¡¯s face froze, and a chill rose up. He vigorously swung his lengthy head, loudly defending himself.


    "Wise Your Highness! Lending things out always accrues interest, doesn¡¯t it? Moreover, I have never asked Olosh for the principal and interest over these years. I swear by the Feathered Serpent Divine, Kukulkan, I have always treated him well!"


    Tikalo earnestly swore by the great Feathered Serpent Divine, Kukulkan, which was the most sacred belief of the Maya people, seldom broken because, in fact, it was true. Although the big merchants loved charging high interest, they only did so selectively.


    Since Olosh became the Head Warrior of the Holy City, he never mentioned the debt, and every time they met, Tikalo even lent some tobacco to Olosh, trying to keep in touch. Of course, he kept the account books meticulous, not missing a single cent of monthly interest. If anything happened to the Head Warrior later, his status endangered, the notebooks would still have to be presented.


    Xiulote shook his head calmly. He did not speak, only watched as Tikalo was dragged onto the tall sacrificial altar.


    "Your Highness! Your Highness! Spare my life! This, I, Olosh¡¯s account, cancel it out!"


    Standing on the altar of sacrifice, looking at the once blood-stained marks, Tikalo was like duckweed in the wind, his legs trembling. He hesitated for a moment, then clenched his teeth and cried out in pain.


    Xiulote examined Tikalo¡¯s expression carefully, the other¡¯s demeanor only slightly panicked. He shook his head again and slowly began to speak.


    "Yes, the account is canceled. But the Chief Divine loves exotic fruits, and the person who harvested it must be sacrificed¡ªserving in the Divine Kingdom. Did you say it was you who picked them?"


    Tikalo¡¯s wise head quickly processed the information. Hearing the youth¡¯s relaxed tone, he quickly shouted.


    "No, it was the old servant I ordered to pick it. The one by the door! He will replace me, sacrificing himself for the divine!"


    Hearing this, the old servant at the door trembled but did not speak, only silently nodding. The big merchant, rich as a nation, always kept retainers willing to die for him. Feed soldiers for a thousand days, use them at the crucial time.


    But Xiulote did not pay any attention. He just sternly reprimanded.


    "Tikalo, wasn¡¯t it the exotic fruit you personally harvested? You dare to deceive me!"


    "Yes, ah! Not... Although it was not me personally, but my admiration for you remains unchanged!"


    Tikalo was firmly held down by his limbs, lying flat on the sacrificial altar. His body trembled non-stop, stubbornly nodding his divine head, still speaking clearly. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, slightly thoughtful.


    "In that case, only the exotic fruit shall be offered to the divine."


    The samurais released their hold, and the Mayan merchant immediately heaved a sigh of relief. He got up from the ground, grinning broadly.


    "Your Highness, you truly are majestic and humorous! That joke just now nearly scared me to death."


    Hearing the merchant¡¯s words, Xiulote¡¯s brow slightly furrowed, his gaze turning cold.


    He again became stern, took the longbow from the retainer¡¯s hands, fitted it with an Obsidian Arrow, and aimed at Tikalo¡¯s chest. The samurais also raised their sharp War Clubs, pointing them at the merchant¡¯s vitals. The Mayan merchant was like a frog targeted by a snake, instantly stiff, not daring to move. The boundary of life and death suddenly blurred, sweat pouring down his back.


    "Offer the exotic fruit. Let the Chief Divine decide your fate!"


    Xiulote aimed for a moment, then lowered the bow. He picked a fist-sized cactus fruit from the merchant¡¯s gifts, thought about his archery skills, then switched to an even larger pineapple. He then signaled the guard to place the pineapple on top of the merchant¡¯s head.


    The Mayan merchant¡¯s head was slender, with a smooth sloping curve, and the pineapple simply wouldn¡¯t stay put.


    A moment¡¯s hesitation crossed the youth¡¯s mind, then he sternly commanded.


    "Support it with your hands! Hold it steady! If it falls, it disturbs the sacrificial ritual, and that¡¯s a capital offense!"


    Tikalo then used both hands to support the pineapple, and further steadied it with his head. A triangular formation encompassing his fate. Beneath, he trembled uncontrollably, nearly in tears.


    Xiulote appeared extremely imposing. He once again raised the bow, aiming carefully for a while. He checked the size of the target, then stepped forward a few steps, aimed again for a while. The merchant¡¯s sweat had soaked through his clothes, dripping drop by drop onto the sacrificial altar, moistening the sacrificial blood.


    Xiulote looked again at the normal distribution target not far away. The Mayan merchant had been watching the youth all this while and now shifted his gaze to the human-shaped target beside him. Then, his legs started to shake violently, and he madly prayed to the Feathered Serpent Divine in his heart.


    Xiulote felt for the handgrip for a while and finally, he just gave a soft cough.


    "Cough, Bertade. I need to communicate with the divine, seek their attention, the sacrificial ritual is in your hands. Let us see the choice of destiny! Aim well."

 Chapter 188 - 108: The Merchant and Feathers_2

    At last, the young man lowered his voice so that only the two of them could hear.


    Bertade¡¯s lips slightly curled up. He nodded solemnly, half drew the longbow, and aimed carefully. After reflecting on his past experiences, he adjusted his aim slightly upward.


    Tikalo¡¯s body shook like a sieve, and his legs went weak. Sweat beads rolled down his forehead, over his cheeks and neck, carrying the intense aroma of pineapple, as if it were soul-stirring.


    Time seemed to stretch on like a century. Then, with a "buzz" of the bow trembling and a "whoosh" of an arrow shooting forth, followed by a "bang," the pineapple exploded, splashing juice in all directions.


    The Mayan merchant trembled in fright. The force of the arrow knocked him backward, and his weak legs could no longer stand steady. He fell heavily backwards, hands still not daring to let go, as the juice of the pineapple flowed down his slender forehead, slid past his breath-held nose, and entered his parched mouth.


    Tikalo instinctively tasted it. The pineapple juice was sour and sweet, the flavor of fate, and also the beauty of a narrow escape from disaster. He looked up at Xiulote again, fear undisguisable on his face.


    Xiulote carefully observed the merchant¡¯s expression. He nodded to himself, his defenses finally breached, casting himself into the shadow of the king.


    So, the young man smiled and stepped forward. He pulled up his old acquaintance, offering warm reassurances.


    "Tikalo, the divine has made its choice. Your sin of deceit has been forgiven, and now you are my guest!"


    The Mayan merchant was drenched in cold sweat. His emotions had not yet settled, and he was speechless.


    Afterward, Xiulote had new clothes brought for the merchant to change into. Then he pulled him into the grand hall to sit face to face.


    The samurai then sheathed their weapons, guarding inside and outside the grand hall. Retainers served cocoa drinks, light tequila, sweet honey water, and delicious snacks.


    "Come, Tikalo. Drink this cup fully, thankful for the Chief Divine¡¯s protection! Fate has brought us together!" Xiulote drank down the cocoa in one gulp. It was his favorite taste: hot cocoa with honey.


    As a merchant, Tikalo could only drink the tequila. He looked at the smiling young man, his feelings complex and changing. The once naive young priest had now grown into a formidable figure capable of life and death decisions.


    He silently reminisced for a moment, inwardly reproaching himself. Influenced by past memories and underestimating the young man, he had lost the caution necessary when facing a venerable figure. But the one sitting opposite him was no longer a child, but the heir to a powerful empire.


    As Tikalo realized this, his past memories blurred completely, dissipating in his mind. Only the piercing arrow remained, like the invincible force of a king.


    The Mayan merchant moved his lips but ended up only bowing deeply.


    "Thank you, Your Highness. Thank you for the Chief Divine¡¯s protection!" S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote nodded slightly, smiling faintly. His gaze sternly fixed on the merchant.


    "Tikalo, what brings you here this time? Feel free to speak."


    The merchant opened his mouth, paused for a moment, then sighed.


    "Respected Your Highness. I originally came to propose a business law, but now I dare not speak further."


    "Very well. Then let¡¯s discuss something else."


    Hearing the merchant¡¯s candidness, Xiulote was quite satisfied. Immediately, his expression turned serious, and he asked in a deep voice.


    "Where does your bronze battle axe come from? Can you get more?"


    Tikalo¡¯s face froze, his instinct was to fob it off. He lifted his head and saw the young man¡¯s expression, and his recent experience resurfaced, making his body tremble slightly. The merchant hesitated for a moment, but eventually, he revealed his secret.


    "The bronze battle axes come from the scattered southern city-states of the Tarasco people. The Patzcuaro Lake region is the center of Tarasco rule, where copper mines are strictly controlled. Yet, departing from the Capital City on the lake, heading west along the Balsas River, through the territories of the Jontal people, deep into the southern mountains of the Tarasco in Weytamo, there are still abundant open-pit mottled copper mines."


    The Weytamo Realm was located south of the Balsas River. Impoverished tribes in the mountainous area had been secretly mining these copper ores. They would craft bronze vessels and sell them through foreign merchants to exchange for various expensive luxury goods. The sixty bronze battle axes I brought originated from the southernmost tribes. That place, being the furthest from the capital Qinchongcan of the Tarasco people, had the boldest tribes, even daring to manufacture and sell bronze weapons.


    I had once visited that place and met with the tribal leaders. There was still a lot of patterned copper ore in the mountains, yet there were no more bronze weapons. After all, the southern mountain tribes had limited populations, and both mining and casting were extremely labor-intensive activities; they could never scale up. Perhaps for this reason, the capital Qinchongcan turned a blind eye to the border mountain area."


    Xiulote pondered carefully. Weytamo mountain area, copper mines. Hmm, who had mentioned it to me? He looked toward his escort, Bertade.


    Bertade nodded earnestly.


    "I have been there. The mountains are full of shimmering gold-like ore. But the treacherous mountain terrain, abundant trees, and extremely agile and fierce mountain people are not suitable for a large-scale military campaign."


    Xiulote reflected for a moment. Such matters were most conveniently handled by merchants. He looked toward Tikalo, solemn and majestic.


    "Tikalo, I need more copper mines. Would you be willing to purchase copper ore for me in Weytamo Realm? The Alliance is not short of craftsmen; we want as much pure copper ore as possible. The price is right, bronze weapons and bronze vessels are all wanted. I will offer a 20% premium in exchange for the goods of the Alliance.


    If you are willing to serve the Alliance, the Alliance will list you as a secret military merchant, providing various discounts and conveniences to ensure your safety in the Alliance. I will also provide you with elite Samurai and sturdy boats.


    I promise in the name of the Guardian God, as long as you collect enough copper ore and intelligence, you can become a military noble of the Alliance! And once you establish great merit, you can become a hereditary noble of the Alliance, passing on your legacy in your fief from generation to generation!"


    Upon hearing this, Tikalo suddenly looked up. His gaze flickered with strong desire, leaping in his heart. As a well-off merchant, his greatest wish was to obtain a fief and truly become a member of the ruling class, escaping the fate controlled by others!


    He subconsciously touched his intelligent head, feeling the smooth touch, the sacred curve. His agitated emotions gradually calmed down. In the powerful Mexica Alliance, he was but an odd and rootless foreigner, seeing no other sacred kin. Even if he truly had a fief here, how could he integrate into the ruling class? At the slightest disturbance, it would collapse first.


    As Tikalo¡¯s thoughts surged, his reason and emotions alternately struggled. After a while, he sighed softly.


    "Respected Your Highness. The wise sea turtle, which should belong to the boundless saltwater outside the Yucatan jungle. How could it survive in the freshwater lakes of the Mexican Plateau, under the teeth of countless crocodiles?"


    Upon hearing the merchant¡¯s refusal, Xiulote was slightly surprised. He cautiously examined Tikalo again, appreciating the latter¡¯s wisdom, yet a hint of murderous intent appeared in his eyes.


    Tikalo shivered, his reason fully recovered. He respectfully bowed again.


    "Your Highness, I am happy to serve you. After the New Year, I will set out to purchase copper mines at equitable prices in Weytamo Realm. As for military intelligence, my servant always cannot keep his mouth shut. He will speak to the Venerable upon returning to the Lake Capital City."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression remained unchanged, he gently shook his head. This one-sided service relationship was not what he wanted. Without stable mutual interests, it was impossible to truly subdue the merchant before him, nor could the latter be expected to dedicate himself fully to the Alliance¡¯s mission.


    He pondered again for a moment, then spoke slowly.


    "Tikalo, you are a clever person. I aspire to rule the world. If you truly serve me, I will promise you a satisfactory future. Remember you come from Tutulxiu, the fertile land rich in cotton?


    Would you like to return to Yucatan, becoming a noble lord among the Mayan people? The Samurai of Mexica will eventually set foot on the shores of Yucatan. With the support of tens of thousands from the Mexica legion, you will become the noble Kaluoemte, like the legendary King Jaguar¡¯s Claw!"


    Tikalo¡¯s gaze flickered again. Desire intensely surged in his chest, the past glory of his family recorded in inherited verses, recited over and over in his mind. He looked again at Xiulote¡¯s solemn face, feeling the earnestness of the young man, and the hidden murderous intent behind that earnestness.


    After a long while, the Mayan merchant finally lowered his sacred head. He closed his eyes, sighing in his heart, bowed deeply to the young man.


    "Willing to serve you, my King."


    Tikalo removed the feather crown silver ornament from his head, revealing his complete, slender head, performing an ancient noble ritual.


    "By the oath of the Feathered Serpent Divine Kukulkan, I, Tikalo of the sacred Kokom Family, shall become your Feathers, helping you soar through the skies!"


    Watching the merchant prostrate before him, Xiulote smiled slightly. The smile, holding the youthful charm of a young man and the composure of a king.

 Chapter 189 - 109: News from Afar: Cuba, Maya, and Chibcha

    The spacious hall was solemn for a moment, accompanied by the sound of falling leaves outside the window. Samurai, draped in armor and bearing arms, silently guarded the surroundings, witnessing the meeting between the King and the merchant at the center.


    Tikalo bowed deeply, and Xiulote accepted the gesture calmly. He sat composedly for a moment before extending his hands, warmly lifting the Mayan merchant. Once settled, the two resumed their seats opposite one another, the atmosphere becoming even more harmonious.


    Xiulote called over a guard and offered a cup of cocoa beverage, reserved for the nobility and samurai, to the Mayan merchant. The merchant was momentarily stunned, then accepted it respectfully. He gently tasted the traditional cocoa, the bitterness, spiciness, sweetness, and tartness washing over him in waves.


    Afterward, Xiulote pondered slightly, his face reflecting authority.


    "Tikalo, I will list you as a secret merchant within the Alliance¡¯s military intelligence. This reform in commercial law is an inevitable trend, monitoring merchants is a national policy of the alliance, and major changes are unavoidable. I will grant your Mayan consortium a seat in the council to determine commercial laws, go consult with the Council of Elders as a formality, so you can explain this to your consortium.


    You don¡¯t need to be involved in the rest, just focus on the copper mines and military intelligence. Naturally, I will look after your caravan, providing you with trading benefits. Relocate your family here to the Capital City, and I will ensure their safety with assigned guards. Moreover, send a few trustworthy people to liaise with us.


    I will assign you a hundred samurai to serve your caravan from now on. The Mexica fleets will allocate forty boats and laborers for transporting copper ore and other materials. Remember, your actions are of utmost importance! If you encounter any obstacles, inform me, and the Royal Family¡¯s samurai will clear them for you. If other merchants compete with you in the copper mines, the Royal Family will eliminate them for you!"


    Tikalo first smiled bitterly, reluctant. Once the forceful Great Nobility entered the scene, they immediately took control over the merchant¡¯s life and the entire caravan. He then became spirited, backed by such a powerful military group, no other merchant could compete against him.


    The Mayan merchant pondered for a moment, various names flashing through his mind. Observing the handsome youth before him and considering the Mexica¡¯s style of conduct, his thoughts whirled. After a pause, he tentatively mentioned a name, "Takulia".


    "Takulia? That seems to be a Tarascan name?" Xiulote thought for a moment.


    Tikalo nodded, quietly observing the youth¡¯s reaction.


    "Takulia is a prominent merchant from central Tarasco, the biggest competitor in the southern City-State¡¯s copper trade, backed by certain nobles from the central region of Tarasco. Relying on the local nobility¡¯s advantage, he can lower prices and forcefully buy large quantities of copper from the south to produce exquisite bronze items."


    Xiulote contemplated quietly then asked slowly.


    "Will Takulia sell the bronze items to the Alliance?"


    Tikalo shook his head affirmatively, quietly watching the youth¡¯s expression.


    "The Mexica Alliance is the greatest threat to the Tarasco Kingdom. Takulia only trades spices and dyes for cotton and salt from Mexica, while selling bronze items to the remote Tlaxcala, Mistec, and Zapotecs. He has a trade route that circumvents the southern part of the Alliance, ending at the Holy City of Cholula. This route is also the channel through which Tarascans connect with Eastern forces."


    Xiulote nodded slightly. His expression unchanged, he looked up at the painting of the Guardian God in the hall. The youth¡¯s gaze passed over the green prosperity of the Long Feather, finally resting on the glaring red War Spear. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tikalo, since you¡¯ve mentioned Takulia, does that mean he¡¯s currently in the Lake Capital City?"


    "Just yesterday, I met him. He was at Tlatelolco, North City, during the New Year¡¯s village gathering, buying cotton in the biggest market under the sun."


    Tikalo was certain. His gaze flickered, recalling that just yesterday, Takulia was competing with him for goods.


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes dropped back to Tikalo. The Mayan merchant squeezed out a sincere smile, then respectfully bowed his head.


    The youth spoke no further. He gave the merchant a deep look, then summoned a guard and whispered a few words. The guard nodded and solemnly left.


    The hall quieted once again. Soon, Tikalo¡¯s forehead showed sweat. His thoughts spinning, he tried his best to consider what would please the King, then smilingly spoke.


    "Respected Your Highness, actually, the Tarascans aren¡¯t the only ones with copper mines. There¡¯s a place filled with copper mines and even a certain type of black, hard stone that even bronze items can hardly damage!


    What¡¯s more interesting is, near the black stones, there are similarly hard, brown, semi-transparent crystal stones, which are dazzlingly brilliant and impervious to fire. These gemstones can also attract and repel each other. I have specifically brought two of these gemstones as a gift for you."


    With that, Tikalo took out two dimly shimmering semi-transparent crystal stones from a wooden box. The stones¡¯ exteriors resembled meteorites, congealed in blocky or granular clusters, sparkling with iron-black light under the sunlight, subtly tinged with faint red and green.


    Xiulote¡¯s pupils constricted, a thought dawning on him. He took the "black gemstone" and closely felt its granular hardness. Then he instructed a guard to chop it with a bronze axe, but it only left a shallow scratch on the "black gemstone". He brought the two "black gemstones" close, feeling a slight repelling force, then rotated them, and they attracted each other.


    Seeing this, Xiulote looked up, shocked. He stared intensely at Tikalo.


    "Tikalo, where did you get these two stones? Tell the truth!"


    Tikalo was slightly shocked. He swallowed, honestly answering.

 Chapter 190 - 109: News from Afar: Cuba, Maya, and Chibcha_2

    "Ore? These two gemstones were acquired from other Mayan merchants. Sailing the Mayan paddle sailboats from Ekab on the northeastern tip of the Yucatan Peninsula, heading to the endless Great Lake in the East. If fast, it takes six or seven days, if slow, more than ten days. Passing through some islets, you could reach the end of the world¡ª the snake-shaped continent where the Feathered Serpent Divine last stayed and departed from."


    "Many wild tribes live on the continent. They cultivate tobacco and love the shiny glimmer of gold and silver. We can exchange a bag of Gold Dust for more than ten bags of tobacco leaves. Then, by selling the divine tobacco to the inland, the profit is more than tenfold."


    "The Feathered Serpent Divine left its serpentine body on the snake-shaped continent, and the ground solidified as a result. Open-air copper mines are the scales of the Feathered Serpent, visible everywhere. And the black hard stones are the teeth of the Feathered Serpent, only found on the easternmost snake head of the mountain ranges. Further east from the snake-shaped continent, there are many more lands and islands, which are the hundreds of following snakes that left with the Feathered Serpent Divine!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote stood up, turned his back to the Mayan merchant, and started pacing forward, concealing the intense change in his expression. He pondered for a long time: beyond the Yucatan Peninsula to the East lies the fertile Cuba, Haiti, and the paradise where two to three million Taino people live happily.


    Cuba is the region richest in minerals in Central America, with almost all of its mountain ranges containing copper ores. In the eastern mountains of Cuba, there are 3.5 billion tons of iron ore, accounting for over 20% of the iron ore reserves in Latin America, and it can be mined in open pits! Similarly, Cuba is also the largest area for chromite mining in the world.


    With this in mind, Xiulote paced back, slowly sat down, and his expression had returned to calm.


    He picked up the "Black Gemstone" again. If his guess was correct, this glittering black stone was chromite Crystal Stone, the only mineable chromite ore. One of the most important strategic materials of the industrial age. And the black hard stones that Tikalo mentioned must be the extensive open-pit iron mines.


    "How long would it take to sail from Vastec¡¯s Papantla to Maya¡¯s Ekab?" S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote asked in a deep voice, trying to maintain a steady and calm tone.


    Tikalo looked at Xiulote, perplexed. He was surprised by the young man¡¯s reaction and did not understand the significance of the black ore.


    "From Papantla along the coastline, you must first pass through the Totonac¡¯s City-States, then the Central Cho¡¯ol maize people, followed by the warring Northern Yucatan maize people. We need to bring enough Escorts, stick to the continent¡¯s edge on our journey, preferably in large dugout canoes with paddles and sails. If you find the right route, it takes a month or two at sea; you must resupply several times at the city-states along the way to reach Ekab on the northeastern tip. If a storm hits, you must take shelter immediately; one careless moment could mean the ship is wrecked, and lives are lost."


    Hearing this, Xiulote sighed deeply inside. The long journey from Papantla to Ekab and then back to Cuba, given the carrying capacity of a dugout canoe, made it impossible to transport large quantities of iron ore over long distances. The Mayans¡¯ long-distance trade mainly dealt in precious luxury goods, gold and silver, and gemstones.


    "Unless..." The young man pondered secretly, his eyes gleaming sharply and meaningfully looking towards Tikalo.


    "Establish a base on the coast of the Mayan city-states, smelting copper and iron ores from Cuba!"


    Xiulote paused for a moment, smiling gently.


    "Tikalo, are you of Mayan nobility, the sacred descendant of the Kokom Family? How are the thriving Mayan city-states now?"


    Hearing this, Tikalo wore a sad expression. He took off his Feather Crown, caressed the Divinity of his head, and paid tribute to the Heavenly Divine and his ancestors.


    "The sacred land of the maize people is heading towards decline! The nobility of a hundred generations have fallen to dust; the heritage left over thousands of years is disrupted and scattered, and the peasants¡¯ banners are planted on the Temples! Just like my sacred Kokom Family."


    Seven hundred years ago, the gods abandoned us. The earth cracked, rivers dried up, the maize harvest failed, and the city-states fought among themselves. The gods¡¯ Royal City, the beautiful and magnificent Tikal, perished! Thousands of pyramids and altars returned to dust, buried deep in the Jungle. The last Tonina stele stopped six hundred years ago; the Golden Age had ended.


    More than ten million maize people could only migrate north and south, drifting like fluff in the wind, henceforth divided into the Northern, Central, and Southern parts. Then each part further split, and dozens of city-states fought incessantly, and the civil wars were exceptionally cruel. Farms and villages turned to ashes in the civil war, Temples and aqueducts ruthlessly destroyed, maize people dying at all times!"


    "Wait, you just said, over ten million Mayan people?" Xiulote was somewhat incredulous. In his mind, the Rainforest was a barren land with a sparse population, and the future Maya population was only in the millions.


    Tikalo nodded earnestly.


    "During the Golden Age according to the records, the Rainforest was full of aqueducts, the plains were fully cultivated, and people started to plant terraced fields in the mountains. The City-States were prosperous and wealthy, as populated as the Lake Capital City. The Mayan city-states had at least ten million people, plus the entirety of Guatemala, it might have even reached twelve million!"


    Xiulote looked into Tikalo¡¯s sincere and bright eyes, tasting the sadness within them, and nodded slightly: the lost Maya civilization, the bygone Golden Age.


    Tikalo continued to recount the history of the Maya.


    "In the North Yucatan, our sacred Kokom Family inherited the knowledge from the Royal City of Tikal, the noble bloodline ruling over the dazzling Mayapan. It was the continuation of the divine glory, the ¡¯model of the Maya,¡¯ a brand new era of prosperity! My name comes from Tikal, the City of the Gods."

 Chapter 191 - 109: News from Afar: Cuba, Maya, and Chibcha_3

    However, more than forty years ago, the Tutulxiu Family, along with Samurai and commoners, launched a rebellion that utterly destroyed the great Mayapan, renaming it Tutulxiu and establishing the new Capital City, Mani. The Kokom Family thereafter dwindled and dispersed, their main branch leading the remnants of their tribe southeastward to build a new small town. And a branch like mine ended up scattered everywhere, becoming merchants and ordinary folk.


    Ever since then, my family could only roam in foreign lands, relying on the mathematical and astronomical knowledge passed down through generations, taking risks on boats and plying trade between different kingdoms. Other Mayan merchants, respecting my bloodline, made me the leader of their merchant group. Over the years, although it seems we carried rich baggage and led a comfortable life, in reality, we lived day to day, our fate hanging on the whims of the privileged," S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At this point, Tikalo lowered his head slightly and closed his eyes. Recalling the glory of his ancestors and his own plight, a mix of emotions overwhelmed him, and his nose tingled with the onset of sadness.


    Xiulote was at a loss for words for a moment. He truly had not expected the Mayan merchant before him to have such a glorious ancestral heritage.


    In that case, the sacred Kokom Family possessed a ruling history over Tutulxiu-Mayapan. They are the former rulers that the current Maya Lords cannot tolerate but are the most suitable agents for the Mexica!


    The young man pondered for a moment, a smile on his face as he looked at Tikalo with increasing admiration.


    Next, Xiulote continued to inquire about news from afar. Tikalo, with his upper-class Mayan knowledge and having traveled far and wide, knew much about the vast world.


    "The great Corn people sailed aboard the largest oar-and-sail vessels, heading south through the dense Rainforest. From the hands of the locals, they exchanged bundles of cotton for bags of Turquoise and pepper, profiting tens of times over. Following the lengthy coastline to the southernmost point, we reached the Chibcha region. There, amid the countless scattered tribes, we could trade for cheap salt, Gold, and gemstones, likewise making a tenfold profit,"


    Xiulote pondered in his mind; the Emeralds of Guatemala, the pepper of Honduras ¡ª these were rare and expensive goods. Broadly speaking, there are about 700 species of plants in the pepper family in America and more than 300 species in Southeast Asia. Among them, Jamaican pepper, native and renowned for its aromatic spiciness, also known as allspice, was most notable. In the age of the great voyages, these gemstones and spices meant wealth that would drive Europeans crazy.


    Further down past Panama lies Chibcha, the future area of Colombia. The Maya encountered coastal tribal peoples but did not travel up the long Magdalena River, missing out on the powerful Muysca Kingdom deep within the Jungle ¡ª the origin of the legend of the Golden Country.


    The Muysca were also a salt-producing people, rich in salt, Gold, and gemstones. Their cultural beliefs became the historical roots revered by the future nations of Colombia. The popular Colombian spear-throwing sport of tejo originated from the Muysca game of Turmequ¨¦.


    As for the further distant Inca Empire, with its mountains, Jungles, and ocean barriers, it remained just a mythical tale. But with Mayan seafaring skills and Xiulote¡¯s predictions about directions, a preliminary contact between the two great civilizations was achievable.


    Xiulote¡¯s heart swelled with joy as the unknown world once again unfurled before him. In the midst of prosperity was the lost brilliance, and within the Wilderness lay potential hope. He had a guard bring up fine wine, and he drank deeply with the merchant, toasting to the world, until the setting sun disappeared and its afterglow lit their eyes.


    "To the east, the sea is vast and stretches to the horizon."


    The young man harbored the world in his breast, his thoughts soaring at this moment, gazing into the endless future!


    Through the window, he gazed toward the distant East. There, the lake of Texcoco was shimmering like a vast sea, twinkling with the glitter of waves.

 Chapter 192 - 110 Mathematics and Calendrics: The Lost Maya

    The setting sun dyed the vast world, as well as the tequila in the pottery cups, leaving behind the last brilliant colors, just as the vanishing civilization.


    Xiulote tasted a bit of salt and then downed a cup of silvery pure fermented beverage, the slight bitterness bringing numbness to the tip of his tongue, a warm current rising from his stomach. The youth smiled faintly, quietly savoring, and reflected for a long time.


    Tikalo added some tomatoes to the drink, then some red mandragora of his own, and after tasting a chili, took a big swig. Maya nobility were inheritors of an even more ancient tradition of using hallucinogenic plants. Soon, he spun his slender head, his gaze becoming slightly scattered, and he couldn¡¯t help but chant softly.


    "The life of a Divine Descendant is like base liquor, enduring the trials of many spirits, having tasted the flavors of bitterness, sweetness, sourness, and spiciness to obtain its essence... and so, after drinking to the lees, like entering a dream into fantasy, ultimately going towards the Divine Kingdom."


    Hearing this, Xiulote laughed heartily. It was only when he was well into his cups that he asked the question that had been lurking in his mind for a long time. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tikalo, you Maya nobility claim to be Descendants of the Gods, have you truly inherited the knowledge of the spirits?"


    Tikalo¡¯s face showed pride. He opened his mouth, unhesitating.


    "Of course! We, the Divine Tribe of the corn, are the most wise..."


    Just as he said this, the Mayan merchants suddenly felt a chill. He then remembered that his drinking companion was not a Mayan colleague from the caravan, but a Mexica ruler who claimed to be a Divine Descendant. He quickly took a drink to stem his words, then subtly changed his tune.


    "We, the people of corn, are the friendliest tribe, and the people of Mexica are our eternal friends. We excel in mathematics and astronomy, able to revise the calendars of the moon, the sun, and Venus, and also able to help the people of Mexica construct magnificent wonders."


    Xiulote nodded in approval, his thoughts flowing. Maya nobility took great pride in the glory of their great ancestors, and it appeared that assimilation would be very difficult. He looked at Tikalo without changing expression and patted his shoulder affectionately.


    "Tell me more! I¡¯ve long heard of Maya mathematics and calendars."


    After pondering for a moment, Tikalo went straight to the treasure chest he had brought that day, taking out a seashell, a ruby, and three gold bars.


    "Your Highness, please look." He first placed the seashell on the table and pointed with his hand, "This is 0, representing nonexistence, also the time before the beginning of the Era."


    Xiulote was slightly surprised. The Maya¡¯s understanding of "0" seemed to be much earlier than that of Europeans.


    "Our Maya mathematics uses a base-20 numerical system. Each place starts at 0 and goes up to 19."


    As he spoke, Tikalo took out three gold bars and stood them up in front, then he placed four rubies neatly behind them in an arrangement of "|||...."


    "This is 19. On each place, a ¡¯|¡¯ represents five, and a ¡¯.¡¯ represents one. Every five ¡¯.¡¯ are carried over into a ¡¯|¡¯. If you add 1 to 19, it will carry over a ¡¯.¡¯, which means adding 1 to the next place."


    Xiulote thought for a moment; this was a base-20 system ranging from 0-19. Following the abacus progression of Huaxia, there were surely similar rules for addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division.


    He pondered and then asked.


    "So the addition and subtraction of each place are handled by dealing with each ¡¯|¡¯ and ¡¯.¡¯ individually, with four ¡¯|¡¯s accumulating into a carryover, and every five ¡¯.¡¯s moving up one place. Do you have a method or Mnemonic Verse for multiplication and division for each place?"


    Tikalo looked somewhat astonished. He stared at Xiulote with wide-open eyes. Were the mathematics of the Mexica people this good too? He then nodded proudly.


    "Within 20, for 19*19 we have 190 Mnemonic Verses, and for divided 1-19 there are hundreds of verses. Divine Descendant Nobility need to learn and memorize from childhood, and then are able to recite calculations within eight hundred directly. To learn mathematics, I started spending my whole days calculating since I was six years old!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote sweated internally and silently sympathized with the Maya children for a few seconds.


    A base-10 system only has 45 multiplication Mnemonic Verses for 9*9, and the nine-return division method for 1-9 on an abacus only has 61 verses. Given this learning difficulty for beginners in Maya mathematics, it¡¯s no wonder their tradition was exceptionally hard to pass down. In the long-lasting Maya civil war, who knows how much knowledge was forever lost.


    Next, Tikalo took out a ruby and a seashell, arranging them into ".,0".


    "This is 20. It has two places; the first place is 1, the second place is 0. This is the number of days in a month."


    Then, he took out two gold bars and two gems, moved the seashells aside, and arranged them into "..,||..".


    "This is 52. Two places as well, 40 in front, 12 behind. ¡¯|¡¯ is the start of each place. This represents the 52-year small cycle."


    After that, the Mayan merchants took out four gems and directly spread them out as ".,.,.,."


    He looked at the youth with slight pride.


    "Your Highness, can you tell what this number is?"


    "8421."


    Xiulote did a mental calculation in a few seconds and came up with the result quickly.


    Tikalo scratched his head. He was surprised for a moment, then decided to raise the difficulty. Maya people never conceded in mathematics! He took out six gems and divided them into two groups, each group being ".,.,."


    "Then, Your Highness, what do you think is the product of these two groups?"


    Xiulote paused slightly, 421*421? He took out an obsidian knife and scratched out some calculations on the ground before giving the answer.


    "177241."


    Upon hearing the correct answer, Tikalo was completely astonished. The words he had prepared were no longer needed! After a while, he finally replied.


    "Well, Your Highness, you calculated correctly. But the speed is too slow."


    As he spoke, he multiplied the "1,1,1" gems on each place, starting from the end to the beginning. At the end, accumulating once resulted in "1", the next place accumulates twice for "2", followed by three places "3,2,1". In just a few seconds, he obtained the base-20 number "12321", which is also the base-10 number "177241".


    Seeing the Mayan merchants¡¯ rapid calculation, Xiulote felt admiration for such a concise and efficient number system!


    Maya base-20 mathematics demonstrated their superiority in record keeping and calculation especially when it came to large numbers and astronomical fields. Such a mathematical system should not have appeared in the ancient civilizations of the Stone Age, but would have been more suited for a cosmic civilization capable of navigating the stars.

 Chapter 193 - 110 Mathematics and Calendar, the Vanished Maya_2

    "The great decline took away too many mysteries of the deities! I never had the chance to receive the complete divine knowledge. It is said that during the Golden Age when gods came and went, that was the pinnacle of the corn people¡¯s glory!"


    The three thousand pyramids of the imperial capital Tikal observed every star in the sky. Thousands of priests calculated the trajectories of each star, mapping out star charts for hundreds and thousands of years. They interpreted the steps of the deities, waiting for the return of the gods!"


    Tikalo recited his ancestors¡¯ poetry with a sense of melancholy, describing the grand vision of the imagined imperial city, and then decisively shifted the topic.


    "Respected Your Highness, actually the Mexica calendar comes from our Maya heritage."


    The round-faced Mayan merchant smiled with heartfelt pride. Xiulote listened quietly.


    At that moment, a guard came upto report in a whisper. The young man nodded, and the guard departed. Soon after, "Monkey" Kuluka approached with a respectful smile on his face. He walked quickly towards them and knelt down to bow from a distance.


    "Respected sovereign, I have taken care of all your commands!"


    Xiulote nodded authoritatively and gestured to the seat beside him.


    Surprised by the honor, Kuluka gave another large bow before cautiously sitting next to the king, shifting half a body¡¯s space away.


    "Monkey, there haven¡¯t been any battles lately. Originally, I was planning to summon you all after the New Year."


    Xiulote smiled faintly. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But you are skilled in mathematics, come from the common people, and understand practical affairs. Now there is an important task for you. For the next few months, accompany Mayan merchant Tikalo to handle the matters of the caravan. I need as much copper from the Tarasco mines as possible!"


    Kuluka nodded seriously. He looked at the tall-headed Mayan across from him, and the Mayan also looked at him, his face pointy like a monkey¡¯s. Their gazes collided, and they exchanged polite smiles.


    Then, Xiulote gestured for the Mayan merchant to continue.


    Noble merchant Tikalo glanced disdainfully at Kuluka. The latter was neither up to Maya aesthetic standards nor a cultured man from the nobility. He began speaking with pride.


    "The Maya have two calendars, the Divine Calendar and the Sun Calendar, plus the Long Count which symbolizes the Era."


    "The Tzolk¡¯in Divine Calendar has 260 days, which aligns with the Venus cycle and the rainy season, used to guide the planting of corn. The Divine Calendar has 13 months, each month having 20 days, symbolizing different deities.


    They are respectively: 1 Crocodile Day, 2 Wind Day, 3 Darkness Day, Land of Death 4 Corn Day, the Corn God, 5 Snake Day, 6 Death Day, 7 Deer Day, God of the Hunt, 8 Rabbit Day, Venus, 9 Water Day, Jade, 10 Dog Day, God of Death, Guardian of the Sun."


    At this, Tikalo stole a glance at the youth, then recited loudly.


    "11 Monkey Day, the god of arts and knowledge, 12 Herbs Day, rainfall and salvation, 13 Reed Day, growth of corn, 14 Jaguar Day, the nocturnal sun, 15 Eagle Day, Sage, 16 Owl Day, bird of death, 17 Earthquake Day, 18 Knife Day, sacrificial blade, 19 Storm Day, rain, 20 Sun Day, Sun God."


    Xiulote nodded in understanding. The Aztec Calendar stemmed from the Mayan Calendar, only changing the symbols, like replacing the owl with the more common highland vulture and adding more warlike significance to the 20 days.


    "The first day of the Divine Calendar is 1 Crocodile Month, and the last day is 13 Sun Month. Different deities govern each month. Being born on ¡¯7 Rain Month¡¯ is an auspicious day, the most favored sacrifices by the deities, while being born on ¡¯2 Rabbit Month¡¯ is an unlucky day, not meant to stay in this world."


    Hearing this, Xiulote shook his head slightly. Whether born on an auspicious or inauspicious day, the result is the same: a dead end. Fortunately, he was neither lucky nor unlucky.


    "The Haab¡¯ Solar Calendar has 365 days, 18 months, each month also having 20 days. There are also five unlucky days at the end of the year. But there are discrepancies between the Solar Calendar and the steps of the Sun God; every 1,101,600 days the seasons overlap. So, the real number of days per year is actually slightly more than 365, it should be... um... that..."


    "365.242 days," Xiulote added with a smile.


    "Right, Your Highness is wise!" Finally, Tikalo revealed admiration, considering the ability to match the corn people in mathematics to be the mark of a great ¡¯Divine Revelator¡¯!


    "The Divine Calendar and the Sun Calendar coincide once every 52 years, with the first cycle recorded as 1-13, and the second cycle symbolized by Rabbit, Reed, Flint, and House. This year is 3 Rabbit Year, no, it has passed the unlucky days, so it should be 4 Reed Year."


    Xiulote nodded his head. The 52-year cycle was similar to the Sexagenary cycle used in Huaxia. The first cycle of 1-13 represented the heavenly stems, and the four symbols of the second cycle the earthly branches. The year 1483 was 4 Reed Year. When the year of 13 House arrives in 1505, the 52-year cycle will conclude, marking the time for grand sacrificial rites and the start of colossal wars dedicated to the deities.


    The last 52-year cycle ended in 1453, coinciding with the fall of Constantinople and the collapse of the two-thousand-year Eastern Roman Empire. 1454 marked the beginning of a new cycle, when the great Montezuma I formally ended the Alliance¡¯s 13 years of farming and peace. Called by the calendar and the gods, Mexica samurai were feverishly mobilized, treating war and death as part of daily life, consuming an entire generation in battle.


    The lengthy conquest continued from 1454 until 1469. Only after the Vastec, Mistec, and Zapotecs surrendered, and the conqueror Montezuma I died in a southern campaign, did the Mexica samurai put down their arms and turned their gaze to the Tarasco in the west.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze became profound. The calendar so deeply influenced the beliefs, life, and wars of Central American civilization. An important aspect of the religious reform was to redefine the symbolic meaning of the calendar.


    "Beyond the Divine Calendar and the Sun Calendar, the sacred corn people also used the Long Count Calendar granted by the deities!"

 Chapter 194 - 110: Mathematics and Calendrics, The Vanished Maya_3

    Tikal revealed a deep nostalgia, coupled with a distant longing.


    "The world was created in the origin year of ¡¯0,0,0,0,0.¡¯ The last digit is the 20-day period, the second-last is the 18-month period, and all others are 20-year periods. A long count calendar has 144,000 days. When 13 long count calendars have passed, it will herald the end of the entire era. Death brings rebirth to the next era, and everything will change! Perhaps the gods will return and rebuild the Divine Capital, Tikal!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote slightly shook his head. 2012 was too far away; with the introduction of European diseases, the end of days for America would come soon. Mortals would die, and rebirth was uncertain as to where.


    He silently calculated, engraving complex formulas on the ground. 13 times 144,000 days amounted to 5126 Sun Years. Was the Mayan doomsday on December 23, 2012? Then, did the Maya world originate on August 11, 3114 BC?


    "What day was that, then? The first flame of emerging civilization? Or the first arrival of an alien spacecraft?"


    The young man, burdened with centuries of curiosity, sighed, imagining the truth buried in history.


    The three continued drinking. Xiulote remained moderate, smiling with a fleeting look in his eyes.


    Kuluka and the Mayan merchants joked and laughed, urging each other to drink more. They quickly called each other brothers.


    Tikalo was immersed in the old glory of the Mayas. He drank willingly and soon his face turned red. Then, he recited the inherited sacrificial poems aloud, singing praises of the Maya¡¯s Golden Age and the City of the Gods, which gathered millions of people. Then, he prostrated on the ground, weeping and lamenting the lost splendor, mourning the tragic fate of the Holy Family, vowing loyalty to the great Highness, and seeking to reclaim the ancestors¡¯ glory!


    Time quietly slipped by, and before they knew it, night had fallen.


    Only then did Xiulote nod in satisfaction. With the alcohol loosening tongues, it seemed the Mayan merchant had said nearly enough. The Maya world had taken shape in his mind.


    Thus, the young man smiled at Kuluka. He had other important arrangements for tomorrow.


    Kuluka bowed his head. He paid a deep respect to Xiulote, then supported the drunken Tikalo and staggered away.


    "Brother Kuluka! From now on, we are comrades in life and death!"


    The Mayan merchant was either genuinely drunk or feigning it. Just after leaving the residence, he clung to Kuluka¡¯s arm, whispering with a smile.


    "Gold and silver, spices and gemstones, luxurious clothes and Feather Crowns, fine wine and beautiful women! Whatever you desire, brother, I can provide. As long as you stand with me and support each other. Hereafter, together as brothers, we¡¯ll share blessings and take on difficulties, loyally serving His Highness!"


    But Kuluka did not respond. He let go and looked at Tikalo with a half-smile. The merchant steadied his stance and looked back sincerely and smilingly.


    After a moment, Kuluka cracked a grin, like a delighted monkey.


    "You are right. Let¡¯s work together, loyally serving His Highness!"


    Then, he gestured to a guard, received a tightly tied black cloth bag, and stuffed it into Tikalo¡¯s hands.


    "This is my gift to you. I wish you sincerity in every task you do for His Highness!"


    After speaking, Kuluka nodded to the merchant and turned to leave.


    Tikalo stood still, the smile gradually fading from his face. He bowed his long head, pondered for a moment, then used a Bronze Dagger to cut the tie. A fresh scent of blood emerged from the opening of the bag.


    By the bright moonlight, the Mayan merchant looked at the pottery jar inside the bag, and the vague shape within the jar. After recognizing the face for a while, he retied the bag, then continued to raise his head and look at the deep moonlight.


    "Even the free turtle must ultimately make company with the cruel Crocodiles."


    Tikalo sighed softly.


    "May the soaring eagle dominate the skies above Yucatan, allowing the ancient turtle to return home!"


    Having said that, he shook his wise head and set off toward the North City market with steady steps. Beneath his feet lay the inscrutable starlight. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 195 - 111 Mexica

    The next morning, Xiulote was awakened by his body¡¯s natural rhythm. He looked out the window¡ªthe light of dawn was faint, and the sounds of the city faintly reached his ears. In this era, common people always rose with the sunrise to make the most of every minute of sunlight. Last night he had dreamt of the glorious Maya, and today before him lay the thriving capital, where the fire of civilization was rising.


    The young man then got up and went to a courtyard filled with Huashu trees. On this chilly morning, Bertade had already prepared a tub of cold water. First, there was a half-hour cold bath, followed by an hour of physical training, and then an hour of combat practice.


    The arduous training was lengthy and busy. Not until sweat ran from his forehead to his feet and his muscles¡¯ explosive strength was completely exhausted did Xiulote collapse onto a bench. Guards then handed him nuts and boiled eggs to replenish his proteins and brought him cocoa drinks to maintain his stamina. The maids approached to massage him all over. As the young man relaxed his body, he pondered the day¡¯s schedule.


    The samurai¡¯s martial arts needed to be accumulated day by day, and his iron will continuously honed. As long as the conditions allowed, the young man¡¯s training never paused. In his view, human strength lay in self-discipline, and the most important thing was to control one¡¯s own life. The Mexica samurai tradition also placed restraint and self-control in second place, second only to the devotion to the gods.


    After Xiulote had breakfast, the old craftsman Kuode, along with a few other craftsmen, was already waiting in the front courtyard. The young man changed into a high priest¡¯s robe and nodded to the newly appointed chief craftsman. Protected by the chief of personal guards and elite warriors, they headed straight to the craftsman district of the capital.


    Today¡¯s plan was to inspect the capital¡¯s craftsman production and the mining industry, briefly called "industry."


    Dressed in priest robes, Xiulote walked through the bustling streets, where samurai bowed their heads in greeting and commoners knelt to pay their respects.


    Scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants. In Mexica society, the highest status belonged to the priests and samurai, followed by the farmers, craftsmen, and merchants of comparable status, all of whom were the ruled. The farmers had no freedom at all, being subjects of the local nobility. The senior craftsmen had some freedom, under the control of the royal family and the priesthood. The merchants had the highest degree of freedom, but also the least security.


    The first stop was the workshop center responsible for military production, the Mexica "Directorate of Works." The workshop center was located in the northeast of the capital, between the Fire God Temple¡¯s armory and the War Javelin Temple, near the shore of Lake Texcoco. This location could take advantage of the waterway, making it easy to transport raw materials.


    The morning sun made the lake and embankment glow golden. Xiulote looked toward the lake, where, under the surveillance of hundreds of warriors, dozens of large boats loaded with thousands of serfs were heading north to the Tampen River. Most of them held stone axes, and only a few held the precious bronze axes. They were headed to the northern logging camps to cut high-quality wood for the production of longbows for the alliance, not allowed to return even during the New Year.


    Also departing were fleets of boats loaded with food heading to the large military camps in northern Xilotepec. Despite the ever-changing situation in the capital, the brutal siege warfare continued in the northern city-states. Xilotepec City, abandoned by the Otomi Alliance, would not last much longer. And further out on the lake, continuous large boats were dragging long logs, returning upstream from the north.


    Xiulote¡¯s heart stirred. He carefully observed the expressions of the serfs and warriors, yet he saw only simplicity and obedience. In the wind, there were faint sounds of commotion.


    The young man then stepped forward to listen to the serfs¡¯ conversations. Even though several weeks had passed, the serfs were still praising the grandeur of the coronation ceremony, regretting missing the New Year sacrificial rites, and subconsciously singing praises to the gods. Despite the conscription, taxes, and death brought by war, Mexica society still danced and sang in the celebratory sacrificial festivals.


    Comforted by the gods, the Mexica people had long become accustomed to war. They yearned for victory and bloodshed, despised defeat, but never tired of war.


    Xiulote quietly listened for a while, finally understanding the elder¡¯s words about spiritual motivation.


    "We are a true military society. The Mexica are either preparing for war or on their way to war. The bloodthirsty gods are so powerful, they hold together the hearts of the people, making war a part of life." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the distance, the fleet of boats gradually approached, finally reaching the lakeshore. Then, the timber was transferred to smaller boats that navigated through the interlocking waterways. The two followed the boats, stepping into the vast workshop center.


    The workshop center was filled with fully armed warriors. Under the warrior captain¡¯s command, the boats docked in designated spots, and dozens of serfs rushed to drag the timber ashore for drying. Xiulote waved his hand to stop the warrior captain¡¯s formal salute and continued silently observing.


    The wood drying area consisted of simple earthen kilns that were manually accelerated to save time. Xiulote observed the design of the kilns, recalling some episodes mentioned in certain books. He knew there was a trick to it, but didn¡¯t know exactly how to do it. In the end, he could only vaguely say, "Hot air drying, the temperature can¡¯t be too high...".


    The old craftsman, who had decades of experience, respectfully agreed, with a smile that was not quite a smile. The young man blushed slightly and said no more.


    Afterward, the serfs took the dried timber from the earthen kilns to the processing points. Xiulote recognized them after a moment and let out a slight gasp.


    "Kuode, is this a fir tree?"


    "Yes, Your Highness. The processing of sandalwood and ironwood consumes too much manpower and tools, and only bronze axes can barely handle them. To fulfill the quantity of longbows required by the king and you, we primarily process fir and oak."

 Chapter 196 - 111 Mexica

    Kuode respectfully reported back.


    Xiulote nodded. He and Aweit had reached a consensus long ago, prioritizing Longbow production as the Alliance¡¯s primary task. To this end, he even consulted the elders to slow down the expansion of the Great Temple in order to focus more craftsmen.


    The elders gazed at him calmly for a long time before slightly nodding. He once again admonished the youth to prepare well for war. The coronation war after the autumn harvest was the first battle after the religious reforms, and it must be an all-out war. It could only be won, not lost.


    "What is the daily production of Longbows now?" Xiulote asked seriously.


    Kuode calculated for a moment and answered cautiously and conservatively.


    "I currently have two to three thousand militiamen and three to four hundred craftsmen, capable of making forty to fifty quality Longbows and thousands of arrows each day. We are also responsible for making paper from bark and scrap wood. The main production limitation is the shortage of skilled Bowyers and the lack of metal tools. However, there is no shortage of quality wood supply." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote slightly furrowed his brows. This efficiency was much lower than he had imagined. For this Alliance campaign, he planned to form at least one group of eight thousand Longbow Warriors. Accounting for attrition, he would need over ten thousand Longbows. In the future, he also planned to make the Longbow standard equipment for the Warriors, training them from a young age.


    After thinking for a moment, the youth scoffed at himself. Mastering the Longbow required decades of practice. The Mexica Warriors had always looked down on archery. Most of the Warriors in his newly formed Longbow Guards came from poor civilian backgrounds, which is why they had a foundation in archery from hunting at a young age to support their families. Whether he could gather eight thousand Warriors familiar with the bow remained an unknown.


    Xiulote¡¯s thoughts raced. He remembered seeing the old Hunter and that girl during his first prisoner capture. The tribal people and village Hunters of the mountains, using simple Hunting Bows to hunt birds, could indeed be a good source of Longbowmen. They also did not need to wear Armor or Formations and could serve as a raiding force similar to the Welsh Longbow Militia.


    "I just confiscated a batch of copper ore from Tarasco traders yesterday, all assigned to you for making Bronze tools! I¡¯m giving you another two hundred craftsmen, the daily production of quality Longbows must increase to at least sixty, and rise to a hundred in a month!"


    He made a firm decision, the more Longbows the better. Archers could be conscripted from everywhere; if all else failed, let the Warriors engage at close range, fifty meters of covering fire should suffice to hit the target.


    "I will send a hundred Warriors to oversee. Each bow must bear the Bowyer¡¯s name for evaluation and merit-based rewards or penalties. For diligent and excellent craftsmen, rewards of cotton, Gold and Silver, possibly even positions and land, and their children taken as Warriors! For lazy and inefficient craftsmen, flogging, family detention. If a bow breaks three times, behead the Bowyer and demote his children to slaves!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was commanding, his tone already chilling with the intent to kill. The impending war placed him under immense pressure, and he must do everything possible to enhance the military strength. This war¡¯s target was the powerfully equipped Tarasco people, possessing Bronze Weapons.


    The gradually intensified religious reforms had already begun to displease the Nnobility. Only a powerful central army, only a spectacular victory in war, could secure absolute power and prestige, pushing the reforms further!


    Looking at the young man¡¯s stern face, feeling the chilling gaze, Kuode felt a chill in his heart, rising in deep awe. The once innocent youth had grown into a commanding Divine Revelator. Thinking this, he put away his smile, respectfully bowed his head, solemnly saluting.


    The surroundings quieted for a moment as the craftsmen, too, knelt in awe. Xiulote waved his hand, signaling the craftsmen to continue. He watched for a while as the craftsmen marked with a ruler, sawed wood with Bronze tools, shaped the bow, sequentially trained the bow. Then, they used coarse hemp fibers for the new bow strings, among which sword hemp was the most durable. Lastly, bone glue was used as an adhesive.


    The completed longbows were sent to a specialized testing ground where the Longbow Warriors could test them. Those that passed the test were stored in a specialized warehouse, waiting to be picked up by the guards. The remaining bark and miscellaneous materials were transported to the paper mill, where they were soaked in lime water ponds for preliminary degumming.


    The elderly Craftsman had arranged the workshop area in a clear and orderly fashion. Inside the vast center of craftsmanship, there were Samurai supervising, Craftsmen bustling about, and militia transporting raw materials. Further inside lay the production centers for cotton armor, wooden shields, and Obsidian weapons. The Mexica had decades of mature experience in manufacturing these traditional military equipments and needed no guidance from outsiders.


    Xiulote nodded slightly. He immediately turned around, not wanting to interfere with military production, and headed to the nearby paper mill.


    The scale of the paper mill had expanded tenfold, with hundreds of busy Craftsmen. Hundreds of militia continuously transported bark, coarse hemp, bamboo, and Luwei. At his suggestion, special troughs and lanes were also built; the former for rinsing materials into curtains, and the latter for drying paper sheets.


    Piles of paper were produced and supplied primarily to the Capital City¡¯s Priesthood. The paper was copied into initial books by the Assistant Priests and then distributed to the Calmecac Noble Schools. At this point, the teaching of writing had only spread from the Priesthood to the Noble Schools, and it was still early days before it would spread to the community-level military schools.


    Xiulote smiled. Script and books were the foundation of a thriving civilization. For the budding Mexica civilization, investing in education was a top priority. At the same time, he had already mobilized several skilled Pyramid mural engravers to start preliminary experiments on block printing. Once the compilation of religious scriptures was completed, they would be printed and distributed to every Priest as quickly as possible.


    Later, the young man picked up a freshly made sheet of paper and examined it carefully. Under Mexica¡¯s stringent laws, the toughness of the paper was ensured, but it was generally too thick. The color of the paper was still a mixed yellow, gray, or even brown.


    Xiulote scratched his head. The color of the paper came from the lignin in the pulp; papermaking technology was supposed to include a bleaching process. How should bleaching be done? The young man pondered long and hard. It seemed that sunbathing, microbiological decomposition, and grass ash treatment were all possible methods for bleaching.


    He then continued to issue orders, the elderly Craftsman bowed deeply with hands clasped.


    "Offer a reward to the Craftsmen! Whoever discovers a paper bleaching process will be promoted to senior Craftsman, recruit a member of the Royal Warriors from their family, be rewarded with a hundred bolts of cotton, ten quarters of Milpa, and a box of Gold and Silver! Give priority to methods involving sunlight, soaking, and grass ash treatment."


    Hearing such a reward, the Craftsmen present immediately had fiery eyes. They respectfully knelt down in silence, bowing, yet in their glances at one another, there was a different kind of sparkle.


    Xiulote shook his head slightly. The status of Craftsmen was limited; Chinampa could only be awarded to Warriors, Priests, and Nobility because the Craftsmen simply could not keep it safe.


    "Go back and discuss with Aweit. The Alliance must create special titles of Craftsman Warriors and set up a promotion system for Craftsmen to accommodate the increasingly important Craftsman community in the future."


    "After all, science and technology are the primary productive forces."


    Thinking this, the young man smiled, turned, and walked away briskly. Next, he planned to inspect civilian industrial and mining production and to look for potential soldiers to form a new unit.

 Chapter 197 - 112 Mexica Folk Industries: Jade Carvers, Goldsmiths, Stonemasons, and Potters

    A group of people left the heavily guarded center of craftsmanship and entered the bustling craftsmen¡¯s district, where life suddenly filled the air. It was as if the solemn and reverent music had transformed into light, cheerful folk tunes, flowing together with the canals between the streets into the lively marketplace.


    The sun hadn¡¯t reached midday yet, and there were no signs of cooking in the craftsmen¡¯s area. The commoners ate only two meals a day, so this was a time of busyness.


    The most esteemed craftsmen were the jade artisans. Not far ahead, a middle-aged, experienced jade artisan was using a primitive grinding machine, paired with copper stone grinders, carefully sculpting a jade artifact in his hands with the aid of sand for cutting jade. He slowly and steadily carved an exquisite, ancient god¡¯s face into it. As the sand flowed, the crisp and pleasant sound of the jade was like a spring dropping onto the earth.


    "A gentleman is like jade. Like cutting, like smoothing, like carving, like polishing."


    Xiulote approached silently. He watched with a smile, his thoughts drifting.


    Jade was abundant in Central America. From ancient knowledge passed down, jade was known as "the stone of pain," believed to heal or relieve various pains, bringing prosperity, success, and good luck. In sacred rituals, jade symbolized life and purity. The main sources of jade were the southern jungles of Mistec, the Maya Yucatan Peninsula, and Guatemala.


    Starting from the 9th century BC, the earliest Olmec people had developed mature jade working techniques. They made blue jade masks, called "Olmec blue." Almost in the same era, the Mayas also began to carve deep green gemstone skulls, known as "the green of the gods."


    In Mexica society at the time, jade was considered the most noble of divine objects, similar to the Celestial Empire¡¯s Shang and Zhou dynasties. Jade was worshipped in the temples of the gods. Outside the temples, only the Royal Family, High Priests, and true Great Nobility were allowed to use jade ornaments.


    This prohibition was strictly enforced, far more than other dress regulations. If a merchant wore jade in public, it was considered a severe offense to the gods and was severely punished. Not long ago, a major merchant from Tarasco named Takulia was arrested and beheaded in North City for this crime, and his head disappeared without a trace.


    After a while, the middle-aged jade artisan finally finished his work. He raised his head, revealing an ordinary face with a pair of calm and steady eyes. Then, seeing Xiulote standing by, he recognized him and immediately prostrated himself in respect. Jade artisans were firmly controlled by the Royal Family and the Priesthood, and their raw materials also came from the Royal Family. They often served the distinguished, and one could tell the class of nobility by their attire.


    After the greeting, the middle-aged jade artisan remained bowing, presenting a palm-sized jade disc. The youth took it and saw on the square jade surface a perfect carving of the Aztec Sun Stone calendar. Various symbols were meticulously detailed, fine as mosquitoes yet without a single error. Such precision in carving must have taken the artisan a long time of hard work.


    Xiulote was astonished. He recognized the patterns and carvings on the jade disc, nodding continuously. This craftsman was an excellent engraver, precisely what was needed for the ongoing engraving experiment.


    After pondering for a moment, he asked Bertade to leave a Jade Token as a token for taking the jade artifact and summoning the craftsman. The middle-aged jade artisan looked at the Jade Token with surprise and joy, then prostrated himself on the ground.


    "Respected Your Highness, Aquila the jade artisan of Tenochtitlan is willing to serve you. Under the witness of the Guardian God, I offer my loyalty until death!"


    Xiulote nodded lightly, noting the jade artisan¡¯s name, and spoke authoritatively.


    "Aquila, take the token and report to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion tomorrow. Don¡¯t be late!"


    Aquila respectfully accepted the order, his head still pressed to the ground. The youth then smiled faintly and turned to leave.


    Leaving the jade artisan¡¯s area, he soon reached the workshop of the goldsmiths and silversmiths. They were second-level craftsmen, also serving nobility and under the management of community leaders.


    Xiulote walked forward slowly. He gestured to stop the craftsmen¡¯s greetings and carefully observed an old goldsmith at work.


    The goldsmith¡¯s forehead was slightly sweaty, but his hands never stopped, as he was at a critical moment.


    He first removed a finely-molded clay model from a high-temperature kiln and meticulously checked its moisture content. The heat from the kiln had hardened the clay layer into a shell. The wax inside the model had melted and was drained through prepared holes. At this point, the model was completely hollow, leaving the shape of the casted item.


    Next, the old goldsmith continued to heat the model while melting gold into a liquid. Only when the temperature of the gold and the model were similar to prevent deformation from the temperature difference did he carefully pour the liquid gold into the model through the holes on top. This process was slow and steady until the shell was completely filled without leaving any gaps. Then he cooled the filled model, allowing the liquid gold to solidify into the shape of the casted item.


    Finally, the old goldsmith broke the outer shell, and a stunning gold mask appeared in front of Xiulote. The mask was thin as a cicada¡¯s wing, with openwork patterns. It shone brightly under the noon sun, its moving light bringing a crystal-clear brilliance, as if naturally formed. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote was exceedingly impressed. He reached out his hand, and after a slight hesitation, the old goldsmith handed over the gold mask to the young priest. The youth carefully examined the finely crafted mask, looking for any gaps on its surface.


    This gold artifact was created using the lost wax process. It involved first using wax to make a model of the item to be cast, then encasing it in a clay model. Afterwards, the model was heated to melt the wax out and metal liquid was poured in, then cooled to form the shape. This casting method sounds simple, but the details are highly intricate. Craftsmen must have superb skills in handling the clay models and good control of the temperature to ensure that the cast does not have gaps or voids.

 Chapter 198 - 112 Mexica Folk Industry: Jade Carvers, Goldsmiths, Stonemasons, and Potters_2

    Xiulote repeatedly examined the circle, but he could not find any flaws on the golden mask. Thus, he nodded slightly and returned the mask to the elder goldsmith, who clearly sighed in relief.


    The young man chuckled softly, followed immediately by a surge of joy. The lost wax process could be used to create fine gold articles, as well as cast exquisite bronze and iron artifacts, including all finely machined components. More importantly, this clay mold casting method could be used to manufacture the trigger mechanisms for matchlock guns, the copper cannon of this era, and even future iron cannons!


    Xiulote continued to examine the other gold artifacts. From the delicate earrings the size of a flintlock gun trigger to the sturdy golden staff as long as a matchlock gun, and to the single-cast idol the size of a small copper cannon, the young man grew more and more satisfied. As long as the craftsmanship level of the craftsmen was adequate, the casting costs were not an issue at all for the wealthy and powerful Alliance.


    Then, the young man reflected for a moment, recalling the proportions for making gunpowder, and searching his memory for stable sources of saltpetre. Moments later, he sighed softly. The road ahead was still long; the progress of an era couldn¡¯t be achieved overnight.


    Thinking this, Xiulote silently noted the information of the goldsmiths. Whether they liked it or not, they would become the first batch of coppersmiths and blacksmiths of the future. Finally, he gestured dismissively and, amidst the bowing craftsmen, he headed towards the carpenters, stonemasons, and potters¡¯ area.


    Carpenters, stonemasons, and potters served the entire society, with a strict hierarchy within their ranks.


    Usually, they started as apprentices, making daily household items and tools for common folks. As their skills improved, ordinary craftsmen served merchants and samurai, crafting exquisite implements. If their skills broke through once more, they could become senior craftsmen serving the nobility.


    And the highest-tier, the master craftsmen, served directly the Royal Family and Chief Priesthood, possessing a status as lofty as that of a samurai, like old master carpenter Kuode. Master masons and carpenters participated in the most revered temple constructions, while master potters created burial objects for revered deceased.


    The carpenters made everyday furniture, built the beams for houses, carved wooden sculptures, and artworks. They also undertook the production of helmets and longbows for the military. Kuode had already detailed much of this industry information.


    Xiulote therefore bypassed the carpenters and directly proceeded to the stonemasons¡¯ area. After a full four thousand years of the Stone Age, Central America¡¯s stone crafts had developed to their peak. Stonemasons were exceedingly clear on the properties and applications of various stones.


    The young man arrived at the largest stonemason workshop. The burly lead stonemason was initially slightly puzzled but then laughed heartily and welcomed the young High Priest. His voice was loud and enthusiastic as he introduced various expensive obsidian artifacts.


    Xiulote smiled and admired the variety of stone tools on display.


    First, he saw a highly polished obsidian mirror. Looking into it, he saw a handsome and refined face, even the determined eyebrows were clearly visible. Then, he saw a pair of exquisite earplugs, smooth and warm to the touch, seemingly made from river pebbles. The young man inserted them into his ears, and the tinkling sound of stone tapping immediately disappeared.


    Next, Xiulote saw an obsidian cup with thin, beautifully patterned walls. He picked it up and held it in his hands, full of admiration.


    Obsidian, being brittle and hard, allowed for the creation of a drinking cup with walls only half a centimeter thick, meaning a strict mastery of the stone¡¯s grain and properties, with each carving exactly right. Without decades of hard work and outstanding talent, such craftsmanship was unthinkable, let alone incorporating such naturally elegant patterns during the carving process.


    Finally, Xiulote¡¯s hand moved over a row of sharp obsidian blades and stopped at the thinnest oval obsidian lens. He then placed the lens above his eyes and looked up at the sky. This was a lens specifically used by Priests, as thin as a leaf. Through the lens, one could directly observe the dazzling sun.


    Through the filter and blockage of the lens, the young man saw a bright sun with small changes appearing on it. The priests believed these changes were the language of the spirits, while the young man thought they were probably sunspots. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote fell into thought. These master stonemasons should be able to help him produce glass.


    Glass was a low-cost yet highly profitable trade good, beloved by all tribes in America. Historically, colonizers often used shiny glass beads to deceive the indigenous people of America and Africa, exchanging them for goods hundreds of times more valuable and even invaluable land.


    Producing glass could earn substantial returns while indirectly weakening future colonizers. Regrettably, the young man did not know the specific technique, only the basic principles. To truly manufacture it, he had to rely on the craftsmen¡¯s repeated experiments.


    Xiulote pondered, first nodding, then shaking his head, followed by a light sigh. Then, amid the similarly fluctuating emotions of the lead stonemason, he picked up the stone mirror, earplugs, cup, and lens.


    The stonemason leader finally burst into a joyful, radiant smile. He gleamed at the young Priest.


    "Respected Priest, that will be two bags of gold dust. Each bag should weigh at least more than that standard stone,"


    he said, pointing at a simple wooden balance scale with a squared-off stone sitting on one end of it.


    Xiulote¡¯s smile faltered. He patted himself down but found he had brought nothing. He then looked towards Bertade, the impoverished Chief of the Personal Guards, who only managed to pull out two tokens and a few sour-sweet cocoa beans intended as snacks.

 Chapter 199 - 112 Mexica Folk Industry: Jade Carvers, Goldsmiths, Stonemasons, and Potters_3

    The youth thought for a moment. The stone mason leader¡¯s skills were indeed remarkable, and he could be recruited into his own technical team. Therefore, he took out a jade token and gave it to the stone mason leader with a dignified expression.


    The stone mason leader held the jade talisman and scrutinized it for a moment, his expression puzzled. Then he weighed the jade talisman and directly expressed his dissatisfaction.


    "Priest sir, this jade has already been engraved with strange square patterns; it has no value for further processing. The weight is also too light; even if sold to the nobility, it would only be worth half a bag of gold dust!"


    Xiulote¡¯s face darkened, the engraving on the jade talisman was, of course, his name. He felt somewhat unwavering, watching the stone mason leader with authority.


    The stone mason leader shrank slightly, looked at the youth¡¯s delicate face, and guessed the level of the young priest. Then he boldly straightened up and puffed out his chest, stared wide-eyed and bravely locked gazes with the youth.


    "Priest sir, you can¡¯t take all four items. I, Losano, am the best stone mason in this area; my creations are also the best here! Well, the earplugs are worthless; I can give those to you. For the rest, the stone mirror, the cup, or lens, your jade talisman can only trade for one!"


    Xiulote¡¯s face remained dark, and he did not speak.


    Bertade smiled. He stepped forward, and under the vigilant eyes of the stone mason leader, suddenly moved swiftly and easily subdued the other¡¯s resistance. Then, before the stone mason leader could cry out loudly for help, the Head Warrior whispered something to him.


    The stone mason leader¡¯s expression solidified, his gaze incredulous as he looked at Bertade; the Head Warrior nodded gently. Then, he looked back at Xiulote, who was expressionless.


    "You... don¡¯t think you can deceive me! I, Losano, am the best stone mason in this area; I have seen much and know broad! How could the esteemed royalty come to this craftsmen¡¯s district?"


    Bertade shook his head. He pinched his lower lip, emitting an eagle¡¯s cry. Soon, from the door of the workshop, more than a dozen elite warriors surged in. The warriors wore Leather Armor, holding shields in one hand and Bronze Axes in the other, their expressions as solemn as stone statues, exuding an awe-inspiring aura.


    Faced with the stern warriors, the craftsmen in the workshop all prostrated on the ground, trembling. Losano¡¯s expression went blank. He opened his mouth wide, looking at the noble family crests on the warriors¡¯ Leather Armors. It took a long while before the best stone mason finally knelt down with a thud, his forehead touching the ground, producing a loud bang. Then, sweating profusely, he was unable to speak.


    Xiulote sighed. This melodramatic situation was not what he had hoped to encounter. He pondered for a moment, and still spoke authoritatively.


    "Losano, you have been recruited by the Royal Family. Take the token, go to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion tomorrow, and do not delay!"


    After speaking, the youth turned and walked away. After taking a few steps, he remembered something and turned back to add.


    "I took the items. Two bags of gold dust, and you can collect them at the High Priest¡¯s Mansion tomorrow."


    Just as Losano had just raised his big head to sneak a peek, he locked eyes with the youth who had suddenly turned back. Frightened, the stone mason leader bowed his head again with a loud bang.


    Watching this scene, Xiulote¡¯s forehead throbbed faintly. He shook his head and smiled, then walked out of the workshop.


    It took a while before Losano cautiously raised his head and looked around. Then, he heaved a long sigh of relief, stood up with a clatter from the ground, and loudly scolded the apprentices around him.


    "Get back to work! Today I, Losano, really hit bad luck!... What rubbish royalty, not attending to proper matters, roaming around the craftsmen¡¯s district..."


    The burly stone mason leader lowered his voice and murmured the last sentence, also shaking his head.


    The sun dipped slightly in the west, and the group finally arrived at the pottery area. Under the bright sunlight, the colorful glaze of the pottery shone like gold, the vivid patterns outlining the lively flowers, birds, fish, and insects, seemingly pulsating with life.


    Xiulote didn¡¯t enter the workshop again. He just slowly walked down the street, carefully watching the pottery makers on both sides. The potters were predominantly women, a tradition stemming from the early tribal era.


    They carefully added the well-prepared clay into molds, shaping it into different forms, then smoothed the surface with scrapers and polished it with specialized stones. Next, they placed the shaped pottery into bonfires or simple kilns to fire, hardening the clay into pottery. Finally, they applied various colors, painting bright patterns that reflected more of everyday life, significantly reducing the depiction of deities. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With the aid of molds and kilns, various everyday pottery pieces took shape one after the other. Mushroom-shaped molds were particularly suitable for shaping bases of plates, bowls, and cups. Concave molds were used for pots of different sizes, with the bottoms seamlessly connecting at right angles, the thickness precisely controlled.


    Xiulote watched with interest. In front of a larger pottery workshop, he even saw pottery made from molds of flowers, solo canoes, small warrior figurines, and Mayan toy carts. These crafts were intended for noble families and thus were exquisitely made, all glazed.


    Afterward, the young man picked up a colorful pottery bowl and studied it carefully. The bowl was painted with lifelike animals and plants. The bottom was a neat grid of crosses, each grid no larger than half a fingernail. He looked at Bertade with some confusion.


    The Head Warrior nodded slightly.


    "Your Highness, this is a bowl used by commoners to grind chili peppers, and can also be used to grind small amounts of corn and beans. The grid pattern is used to crush the plants. Lesser nobility also use this type of bowl to grind spices and herbs, while the Great Nobility would use bowls of gold or silver."


    Xiulote nodded. He turned to a pottery-making girl who approached. She had the sparkling eyes of an artist, and a delicate and gentle appearance.


    "How much for this bowl?"


    The pottery girl blushed slightly. She looked at the young man¡¯s face hesitantly for a moment, then decisively shook her head, choosing to raise the price.


    "One large handful, no, two large handfuls of cocoa beans!"


    Xiulote did the math in his mind. Two large handfuls of cocoa beans were less than a hundred beans, worth probably about twenty to thirty corn cakes, or a tiny fraction of a bag of gold dust. Ordinary pottery was indeed inexpensive, an essential part of every commoner¡¯s life. Pottery technology in Central America had fully matured and spread, and high-quality clay was readily available everywhere. Many commoner families made their own pottery.


    Xiulote nodded, and the escort warriors behind him took out a small tube of gold dust, handing it to the exceedingly surprised pottery girl. Long-term contact with high-quality white kaolin clay was like continually using high-end cosmetics, making the girl¡¯s hands fair and translucent, as smooth and finely crafted as porcelain.


    The young man watched the porcelain-like hands, increasingly attracted. He instinctively reached out and held them softly, gently rubbing, feeling the familiar softness, delicacy, and smoothness. His thoughts drifted far away, until they reached the distant shores of a vast ocean, recalling and longing for what lay beyond.


    "The autumn wind and dew herald the opening of the Yue kilns, capturing the emerald hues of a thousand peaks."


    On the Mexican Plateau, there was no shortage of high-quality raw clay. What was lacking was the technology to fire porcelain. If large kilns were constructed and high-temperature charcoal prepared, consistently experimenting would eventually yield experience in porcelain making.


    However, such luxuries were of little help to the Mexica amidst their Warring States conflicts. Simple pottery was already sufficient for daily life. Better to wait until they unified the land and then produce exquisite porcelain to harvest the wealth of the nobility.


    Thinking this, Xiulote smiled wistfully. He held the porcelain bowl in his hands again, feeling its soft warmth, but was startled by a suppressed moan. Looking up, he saw a girl with her head bowed like a swan, her neck flush with embarrassment. Her breathing was faint and rapid, seemingly without the strength to resist.


    Xiulote paused. Then, shaking his head with a smile, he released her hands, glanced again, and turned away without looking back. Moments later, the youth was far gone.


    Bertade waved his hand, signaling the warriors to quickly follow and escort. He picked up the colorful bowl the young man had hurriedly left behind and forgotten to take, and smiled lightly. Then, he looked at the pottery girl. She stood on tiptoes, gazing wistfully into the distance. Unbeknownst to her, the gold dust had already slipped from her hands onto the ground, creating ripples in the pottery tube.


    The Head Warrior shook his head. He memorized the shop¡¯s location and the girl¡¯s appearance and briskly left as well.

 Chapter 200 - 113: Progress of Reform, Planning for the Future

    As the sun dipped below the horizon and dusk approached, the hustle and bustle of the capital city gradually ceased, and a group of people set off on their way home. Along the journey, they were surrounded by Samurai, and passersby paid their respects, while Xiulote¡¯s thoughts fluttered about.


    The Craftsman district was located in the northeast of the capital city, crisscrossed by channels of water. In Mexica society, the status of craftsmen was actually higher than that of merchants and farmers. They stayed away from wars, lived relatively prosperous lives, and their community was filled with order. Feather craftsmen with exquisite skills would be sought after by all of the nobility and could even be exempt from paying tribute and performing corv¨¦e labor.


    Xiulote walked alongside the babbling channels, the delicate shadows of wick grass and flowers swaying before his eyes, melodies from clay flutes and conch shells playing by his ears, and the scent of corn and black beans wafting into his nose.


    A smile gradually appeared on the young man¡¯s face.


    "Samurai and craftsmen are the most solid foundation of the Empire¡¯s pyramid, as well as the source of power for the war machine."


    Soon, everyone returned to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion. Xiulote went to bow and report to his grandfather.


    In the great hall, the burning bonfire illuminated the surrounding murals, casting the vague and towering figures of the gods, with the Guardian God looking down upon the earth¡¯s creatures from within the light. The High Priest Xutel, in casual attire, had already returned from the Temple. He dismissed everyone with authority and then smiled gently, patting the young man¡¯s head.


    "My child, you have been quite tired recently, it¡¯s good to take some time to relax. The Church is on the right track. You can walk around and explore the capital city and its surroundings, or visit the nearby Divine Mountain and Holy Lake. But make sure you bring enough escorts!"


    Afterward, the High Priest turned to Bertade, the weathered Head Warrior nodded. The High Priest continued with further instructions.


    "With the will of God at its core, the basic legal framework has been established. The new laws will incorporate existing customary articles, and the specific details will be gradually filled in. After the New Year, laws suppressing the interests of merchants will be implemented first, followed by laws governing the behavior of commoners, and finally laws that restrict the powers of the nobility. The Divine Church¡¯s laws are executed internally, nobles can suggest, but have no control."


    Priests from villages throughout the Texcoco Lake District would come to the capital city after the New Year to understand the will of God. They would ¡¯jointly manage¡¯ the villages with the nobles. To ensure the cooperation and friendliness of the nobles, the Temple Guards were expanding and being assembled, and the Royal Family¡¯s warriors would also gather after the New Year."


    At this point, the High Priest smiled gently, viewing life with a calm indifference.


    "My child, just like that interesting saying you mentioned before, ¡¯kill the turkey to make the monkey listen.¡¯ The Council of Twelve Priests had already selected a few high-ranking sacrifices from Tlacopan. Prince Totoquihuatzin understood and nodded in agreement."


    These sacrifices had numerous allocated villages on the west bank of Lake Texcoco. They withheld Alliance tributes, disregarding the priests as irrelevant. Once the Noble Law is enacted, the Temple Guards would act under the guidance of the local priests."


    "Child, your identity is special! Do not go to the villages of the Tlacopan City-State on the west bank before the weeds are rooted out."


    Xiulote nodded calmly. He suddenly remembered Bravo, an intelligent middle-aged Priest he had met in the village of Tlacopan. The young man casually mentioned this to his grandfather, making a recommendation. The High Priest nodded slightly, simply making a note of the name. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The compilation of religious texts is still ongoing, and the fundamental doctrines will take a long time to perfect. The ten commandments of King Mushi Law you mentioned last time are very good, they just need to be modified and supplemented. The Priesthood has decided to add these to the mythology as a covenant of the Guardian God¡¯s promise to the Mexica, to be called ¡¯The Twelve Teachings of the Lake Island.¡¯"


    At this point, the High Priest pondered for a moment. He recited in the ancient tone of a Priest.


    "First, there is only one God, God is omnipotent. Second, all other gods are subordinate gods, later to become saints, gradually phasing out idols. Third, the name of God is supreme, not to be invoked in vain. To swear by God¡¯s name, one must comply. Fourth, pray to God. Three rituals daily, one rest every ten days, a grand ritual. At least once in a lifetime, attend the Holy Temple."


    "Fifth, honor your parents, obey the priests. Sixth, no killing, but sacrifices may be made for God, participating in wars for God. Seventh, no adultery, restrain desires. Eighth, no stealing, theft is a crime equal to cowardice. Ninth, no false witness, be honest and trustworthy, confess regularly. Tenth, do not covet others¡¯, devote wholeheartedly to the deities."


    Xiulote nodded, these were all things as they should be.


    In Polytheism, gods are merely helpers to humans, beings with extraordinary powers worthy of reverence. Deities have concrete images, flaws, and desires. People can also ignore, fear, or hate the deities because essentially, humans and gods are considered equals. This is a personal freedom of belief.


    In Monotheism, however, God becomes an ultimate authority. He lays down laws and morals, unquestionable, guiding people¡¯s lives. People devotedly love Him, following His Church. This is an organized collective belief.


    This is the essential difference between Polytheism and Monotheism. Polytheism is loose and free, while Monotheism is organized and structured, making a substantial difference in the fighting capabilities between the two types of churches and their followers.


    In Monotheism, God is the highest authority, distant, sacred, and untouchable. Thus, no idols are established, elevating the one God to the highest conceptual deity. And the Priesthood, as the only link between God and man, naturally becomes a clerical class authorized by the deity, taking hold of supreme church authority and vast interests, forming a powerful organization!

 Chapter 201 - 113: Progress of Reform, Planning for the Future_2

    The future religious reformation in Europe was about dismantling the powerful theocratic organization and returning power to the secular world.


    "Religion is an inverted worldview; it is not that gods created humankind, but that humans created gods according to their own needs."


    Xiulote reflected on the words of a future philosopher, his emotions complex and full of sentiment.


    "Now, on this land where ignorance is just beginning, we will establish a mighty Divine Kingdom in the name of God!"


    Then, the High Priest pondered for a moment, his face exceedingly solemn.


    "Article Eleven, the end of days cycles every fifty-two years, when all souls face judgment. Samurai who die in battle for God, and women who die in childbirth, will first ascend to Heaven and dwell at the top. They may reincarnate on earth to enjoy endless bliss. Devout believers follow closely, residing at the bottom of Heaven. They pray and accumulate merit, gradually ascending to the top.


    Nonbelievers and those of different faiths fall into the Land of Death. They seek a long deliverance amidst the cutting winds and cold disasters, salvation only possible through conversion. While those with serious sins fall into the lowest Hell of Fire, suffering eternal torment, their sins gradually burning away. Only High Priests can rescue them back to the Land of Death."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote abruptly looked up, the great hall falling silent for a moment.


    His face was grave; this was the true Mexica vision of religious life and death, addressing the salvation, reincarnation, and afterlife of the followers. Here, the Elder Priests left much room for their own interpretation. And to place Samurai who die in battle for God at the highest tier after death... In the foreseeable future, the Mexica monotheism would possess boundless aggression and militancy.


    Sure enough, the grandfather pondered for a moment and continued to chant aloud.


    "Article Twelve, during every fifty-two-year cycle, the Great Temple will listen to the will of God and ignite the Sacred Flame. Then, a group of twelve priests will announce God¡¯s revelation to all believers, and spread the Sacred Fire everywhere. The divine will shall be the utmost directive, and also the swiftest ladder to the Divine Kingdom! At the end of the 1453 cycle, God¡¯s will was that the Mexica Alliance must conquer the world!"


    At this, Xiulote finally looked at his grandfather in shock, his face full of disbelief.


    "The fifty-two-year cycle¡¯s divine will? Periodic holy wars?!"


    The High Priest nodded with dignity. The old man¡¯s face remained unchanged, as the endless bloodshed of the future loomed before them.


    "That is the Elder¡¯s intent. He praised your concept of the divine war and agreed to gradually reduce the wasteful human sacrifices. The Council of Elders decided to increase the scale of priests accompanying the army. They will first popularize the concept of divine war among the military, to strengthen the Samurai¡¯s will to fight, increasing the war efforts after the autumn harvest."


    At this point, the High Priest gently patted the youth¡¯s head again. With his palm, he felt the softness of the dark hair, just like the child¡¯s spirit.


    "My child, prepare yourself. This year¡¯s Tarasco conquest war will be exceptionally cruel. The people of Tarasco are complete believers in a wicked Goddess of the Moon... In the divine war, no one will show mercy!"


    Xiulote pursed his lips, his head bowed in silence. The High Priest gave a slight smile, shifting the subject.


    "Once we have conquered the world, the Temple¡¯s doctrine can change to focus on recuperation and population growth. Or maybe issue decrees to weaken the Great Nobility in various places... Also, the short poem you recited last time was quite good. In the distant West, was there really an alliance of city-states between Shang and Zhou? The alliance of Shang is so similar to us Mexica! How could the powerful Shang be destroyed by the weak Zhou?¡­"


    Based on your suggestions, the Priesthood is already revising the history of the Alliance and compiling myths. We will include the rubber-producing Olmec, the gods-worshiping Teotihuacan, and the craftsman-rich Toltec into the ancestral lineage of the Mexica! The Totonac must relinquish the relics of the Olmec and are not allowed to claim heritage from the ancestors.


    We, the Mexica, will become the sole inheritors of ancient civilizations, the Alliance destined to rule the world! And you, my child, will do the same!"


    With that, the High Priest Xutel laughed heartily, his aged voice carrying the vigor of youth. Then he embraced Xiulote in his arms, interrupting the young man¡¯s thoughts.


    The youth felt the long-missed embrace of his grandfather, felt the lean yet steadfast body beneath the divine robe, and a warmth coursed through his heart. After a moment, his emotions settled, and he hesitated for a few breaths before asking in a low voice.


    "Grandfather, who stands higher, the King or the Priesthood? How do the Nobility and the Priests coordinate?"


    The High Priest¡¯s smile faded as he pondered seriously.


    Behind this question lay the relationship between religion and the secular, the struggle between divine authority and royal power, and also the primary internal conflict of the countries across Eurasia, excluding the unique Celestial Empire with its civil officials. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This is also my concern. According to the custom of the Alliance, the Guardian God bestows the divine scepter to the Priesthood, which then presents the Divine Staff to the King. The great Montezuma I once cast a new Divine Staff, taking power into his own hands.


    Now, with the Elders holding sway over our time and standing at the apex of divine power, the power of Mexica is granted by the Chief Divine to the twelve-member Priesthood, from the Priesthood to the King, from the King to the local Nobility. The Great Nobility govern their fiefs independently, and only the Priests may intervene in the name of the divinity.


    Once the Elder journeys to the Divine Kingdom, the Great Nobility will surely counterattack for their own gain. And then, the King¡¯s attitude will be difficult to gauge! The Priests need a supreme Pope, and the people of Mexica need a true King, to reign over both Priests and Nobility alike, maintaining the balance between the two classes!"


    Having said this, the elderly Xutel lowered his head to look at the youth in his arms. His eyes shone with bright expectation, stinging Xiulote with their intensity. A boundless pressure emanated from the grandfather¡¯s gaze. The youth remained silent for a long while, then slowly nodded, his shoulders feeling instantly heavy.


    The High Priest smiled with satisfaction, then lowered his voice, speaking with deep meaning.


    "For now, the twelve-member Priesthood will fully support King Aweit, following the King¡¯s orders to expand the power of the central authority. The core needs to seize control over the Great Nobility, which is in the shared interest of both the King and the Priests.


    Xiulote, the work of religious education is already on track. Next, you must participate more in the King¡¯s military and political conferences, and grasp a reliable army loyal only to yourself! I will give you my utmost support, as will the Teotihuacan City-State. The Mexica Alliance has always valued the military prowess and martial strength of its heirs; this is the highest source of legal authority!


    As for the remainder of your time, you can become closer to the daughter of the King, your betrothed. She is the King¡¯s only weakness! Child, do not resent your grandfather¡¯s arrangements. Power always comes first; your marriage was never yours to choose. When you ascend to the high seat, you will understand the good intentions of your grandfather!"


    Last, the High Priest¡¯s smile remained, but his undertone became chilling as he murmured to himself.


    "As for those other voices from the Royal Family... my child, I will pave the way for you..."


    Xiulote pondered in silence. He felt his grandfather¡¯s warm embrace but did not see the cold gaze in his eyes. The Alliance¡¯s succession rules were similar to the Ottoman inheritance laws; one had to demonstrate sufficient martial force to firmly occupy the throne. Thus, Aweit too must undertake a successful coronation war to earn the complete loyalty of the Nobility and Samurai.


    The youth treasured his friendship with Aweit and loved the innocent girl. He didn¡¯t want to bring political calculations into these relationships, but the harsh world compelled him to do so. In the brutal struggles for power, only the truly strong could laboriously preserve a hint of warmth.


    "The forces that truly belong to me now consist only of five hundred Longbow Guards, mostly followers from the commonfolk. Then there are four thousand Teotihuacan Samurai under the firm control of my father and teacher Olosh. Finally, there are over ten thousand Samurai who have served under me, who would show me a degree of obedience. But this obedience only takes effect when I am in a dominant position.


    I need a truly loyal core force. The Samurai have long been affiliated with different nobility groups, and even the King has difficulty commanding the powerful Nobility¡¯s Battle Groups. The Royal Family¡¯s power will have other voices ... That force can only come from the commoner class, from overlooked groups. They will use new types of weapons and organizational forms to contend with the powerful traditional Samurai!"


    Xiulote stood up, his expression grave. He envisioned warriors in formations with longbows, and loose Militia carrying longbows. Then he remembered the Lerma River bank, where Mexica¡¯s elite warriors with war clubs and shields battled against Militia with Copper Spears; the fight was initially at a standoff, until Feathered Arrows filled the sky... With these thoughts, he nodded silently, taking his plans for the next day even more seriously.


    The High Priest also sat upright, his hair graying. In his eyes were warmth and cruelty, light and shadow. He contemplated future bloodshed and holy wars, schemed with ruthless daggers and poison, and looked forward to the ascent of the youth to the highest position... with a faint smile.


    By the flickering campfire, grandfather and grandson each wore a smile, facing each other with solemn respect, then nodded lightly. Their thoughts soared like mighty eagles, flying toward a future both shared and distinct!

 Chapter 202 - 114: Gold Mines and Miners

    Starlight illuminated the distance, and the night was tranquil and silent, except for the soft cry of an eagle and the hiss of a snake.


    In the wooden box on the bedroom¡¯s stone platform, little Aviloztli spread its grayish short wings, held its white-furred little head high, and its small black eyes shone brightly. Two meters above the stone platform, it peeked out, eyeing the little green snake on the ground and letting out a proud "yoo-hoo" chirp.


    The little green snake raised its head, its vertical pupil staring silently at the bird above for a while. Then, it slithered up the rough edge of the stone platform with a hissing sound, reaching the wooden box in a moment. It then opened its green mouth wide, menacing the nearby little golden eagle with a high-pitched threatening "shush."


    Little Aviloztli froze instantly, calling out a frightened "cheep cheep" for help. It flapped its short wings vigorously, trying to struggle free but only lifted slightly off the ground before falling back into the box. After struggling for a moment, it could only cower fearfully in the corner of the box, covering its eyes with its wings and shrinking into a fluffy ball, shivering.


    Xiulote was woken by the urgent cries of the eagle. The young man rose briskly, half-naked, revealing the firm contours of his growing figure. He scanned his surroundings quickly, his right hand clutching the long dagger he never parted with. Then, he carefully moved the corner brazier to finally see the confrontation between the eagle and the snake and couldn¡¯t help but let out a mute chuckle.


    The young man reached out and touched the little golden eagle¡¯s soft little head, soothing the terrified Aviloztli and whispered with a smile,


    "You, you should be good and quiet. Your task now is to accumulate your feathers and wait for the day they are fully grown!"


    Then, he wrapped his hand around the wriggling little green snake from the side, feeling the snake¡¯s smooth and delicate body and let out a light chuckle.


    "And as for you, you should contain your voice and posture, lurk silently, and wait low-key. A fatal strike is but a moment, what¡¯s the point in confrontation and intimidation?"


    At this point, Xiulote seemed to have a moment of distraction, as if something had come to mind. He looked toward the first light of dawn rising in the east, his gaze profound and distant.


    Having gotten up, Xiulote then proceeded to complete his daily morning training. After waiting for a moment, the head craftsman Kuode finally hurried over. The two had a brief discussion and decided on the day¡¯s schedule, to inspect the mining industry around the capital city. He had spent half a day with the old carpenter yesterday, and it would probably take a full day today.


    Xiulote instructed the guards to wait for the craftsmen holding the jade talisman and to ensure they were properly settled. Then, he took the Head Warrior and the old carpenter and hurried to the port southwest of the capital city.


    As the boat floated towards the sunrise, they traveled not far southwest from Lake Texcoco to where the Lerma River converged, marking the meeting point of many small rivers. The small boat entered a tributary, and they saw dozens of armed City-State Warriors and hundreds of busy miners bent over beside the riverbed.


    Continuing forward for several hundred meters, the clear river suddenly glistened. Layers of gold light rose from the half-person-deep riverbed, like stars scattered across the night sky. This was the nearest gold panning site to the capital city.


    Due to active volcanic activity, Central America is one of the world¡¯s richest regions in gold and silver production. The vast Mexican Plateau possesses the world¡¯s largest reserves of silver mines, along with hundreds of gold mine ranges to the south, north, and west, with continuous belts of gold and silver mines underground.


    The gold and silver reserves here are calculated in tens of thousands of tons, distributed at different depths of the strata, even surpassing Japan, which also frequently experiences volcanic activity. Historically, the Caribbean treasure fleet set sail from Veracruz on Mexico¡¯s eastern coast, loaded with Mexican gold and silver that drove pirates and various national navies mad. They would assemble in Havana, Cuba, before navigating towards Seville in the south of Spain, becoming the initial source of financial capital expansion in Western Europe and an inexhaustible driving force for socioeconomic development.


    Gold mining in Central America has been ongoing for thousands of years, and the accumulated gold is beyond count. The capital city, Tenochtitlan, is the center of wealth in Central America. According to what Xiulote witnessed in daily life, the gold in the capital amounted to hundreds or even thousands of tons, many of which were buried deep in tombs and temples.


    Typically, the extraction of precious metals is divided into rock mining and panning in rivers and streams. Due to the lack of metal mining tools, rock gold mining was very inefficient and costly. The Mexica and other groups primarily relied on panning for alluvial gold in the rivers. In the rivers to the west and north of the Mexica Alliance, there were a vast number of Gold Sand Rivers, where thousands of miners worked to provide a continuous stream of wealth to various city-states.


    Xiulote stopped the patrolling Samurai¡¯s salutation and gestured for the miners to continue collecting the gold dust. Then he strode forward, observing the miners¡¯ labor by the riverbank.


    The main work area for the miners was a diverted river. The water had been drained to reveal a shining gold-streaked riverbed. They used crude stone shovels to dig up the river mud, piling it up by the riverbank in glittering mounds. Then, the miners took out simple panning dishes, placed the dug-up gold mud into them, and washed it continuously with river water.


    The panning dishes were about the size of a washbasin, made of wood or pottery, with a series of special grooves on top. As the lightweight mud and sand dispersed and useless stones were picked out, what remained were the heavy and glistening gold particles of various sizes. The gold dust, like fine dust, and the nuggets, like grains of rice, shone and flowed in the sunlight, turning with the crisp sound of rustling, enticing the hearts of those who beheld them.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze was drawn to the gold dust, the color of which seemed to have a natural charm. Fortunately, he was accustomed to seeing gold, silver, and gemstones on regular days. After a few moments, the young man regained his composure.


    He calculated the gold dust the miners laboriously washed out each time, merely a scant tenth of an ounce or so. Then he looked at the piles of gold-rich mud by the river, where a miner could collect at most a few ounces a day. Finally, he glanced at the long, gold-dapple riverbed and the distant river gleaming with gold, with tons of gold buried beneath.


    The young man fell silent for a long while, then shook his head. The human effort expended on this collection was simply too costly, and in the gold and silver-rich city-states of Central America, the value of gold was nowhere near that of Eurasia, not buying much. The booming gold mining industry had essentially become a luxury industry, not bringing significant positive meaning to Mexica society.


    Next, Xiulote shifted his attention to the miners¡¯ physical condition and their expressions.


    The main sources of miners were commoners and slaves. Their work was strictly supervised by the city-state warriors, laboring for over ten hours each day to meet the minimum collection requirements.


    The young man disregarded the ragged, numb-faced slaves who were skinny as sticks, human consumables with no military value. He focused his attention solely on the commoner miners in coarse brown clothes.


    Most of these commoner miners came from nearby villages, summoned by the local nobility. They had resolute expressions and lean bodies, their upper torsos bowed slightly. Low body fat and high-intensity labor outlined their distinct facial contours, while their eyes reflected simplicity and honesty.


    The miners endured long and tedious gathering every day, their obedience and discipline far surpassed that of ordinary peasants and citizens, and were even stronger than some young Samurais. The set gathering quotas also gave them a rough understanding of some simple numbers. In their labor, they needed to cooperate with each other, often banding together by village, sometimes conflicting with one another, possessing sufficient teamwork abilities.


    Xiulote glanced around for a moment before calling over a simple and honest young miner, asking briefly.


    The young miner, in his early twenties, already had a weather-beaten face. His knuckles were thick, and his hands and feet bore thick calluses. He answered the Priest¡¯s questions nervously, speaking simply yet with clear logic.


    Xiulote nodded slightly. He gave his instructions calmly.


    "Stand here, keep your back straight, and look forward. Do not move."


    Upon hearing this, the young miner stood still like a stake, anxious and motionless. Sweat slid down his cheeks, cutting through the grime on his face and dropping to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. His pupils were slightly dilated, staring blankly at the unknown distance of the river.


    Xiulote didn¡¯t speak. He sat down relaxedly in front of the miner. He then took a sip of the mescal that Bertade handed him, tilting his head back as he drank slowly, the alcohol¡¯s fragrance wafting along the riverbank. His gaze stayed fixed on the young miner¡¯s expressions.


    The young miner¡¯s throat moved slightly, as if swallowing the scent of the alcohol in the air, still not daring to move. The young man slowly ate a corn tortilla filled with chili sauce. The miner¡¯s gaze was occasionally drawn to it, before he shifted it away out of fear.


    After a while, Xiulote nodded in satisfaction.


    "What¡¯s your name?"


    "Great Priest, my name is Guzman, from the village of Coyohuacan."


    The young miner replied tensely, looking downward, still not daring to move his body. Coyohuacan was a small city-state near the edge of Lake Texcoco, connected to the capital by the southern bridge of the Seven Bridges.


    "How long have you been a miner? Do you know all the miners here?"


    "Great Priest, I¡¯ve been a miner for three years. I was trained for a few years in the community military school, but I couldn¡¯t pass the Samurai selection. The Lord ordered our village to send people for mining, so I came here. The miners here are all from the surrounding villages, everyone knows each other more or less, probably about one or two hundred people."


    The young miner blinked, indicating he knew. He seemed to have a rough understanding of the concept of numbers as well. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment. The villages all belonged to the fiefs of nobles in different places, and the villagers were under the jurisdiction of these nobles. However, with his current status, asking for some miners should not be refused by the nobles.


    The young man then nodded slightly and waved his hand to indicate.


    "Guzman, you may go."


    Only then did miner Guzman dare to lower his head. He knelt to the ground to pay respect, let out a long sigh of relief in his heart, then turned and hurried away without a word. He still hadn¡¯t finished his gold-gathering task for the day.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze was profound. He watched the hundreds of miners on the riverbank and asked sternly.


    "Kuode, how many miners are there in the Texcoco Lake District?"


    Craftsman supervisor Kuode pondered for a moment before answering cautiously.


    "Your Highness, there are nearly ten gold and silver mining spots around the lake district, with over two thousand civilian miners, and the slaves are incalculable. Further out, there are several large mining sites, with civilian miners also around two to three thousand."


    Xiulote frowned slightly, the number was much less than he had expected. After thinking for a moment, he then looked at the old woodworker and spoke slowly.


    "Let¡¯s take a look at the salt mines and stone mines. I need more miners!"


    Kuode felt the implication in the young man¡¯s gaze. He thought for a moment, then bowed respectfully.


    At the young man¡¯s command, everyone left without any hesitation, heading directly to the south. Behind them, gold dust shone brightly; the Gold River gleamed as always.

 Chapter 203 - 115: The Salt Mine and Salt Workers

    The largest salt mine of the Alliance was not far south of the Capital City, and smaller salt mines could be found everywhere. The eastern section of Lake Texcoco was divided by a dike, where there were hyper-saline lakes, and many high-quality salt springs were distributed around the mountains and deep valleys, also a product of volcanic activity.


    The Mexica Alliance was never short on salt. Salt was an important trade good for the Mexica people and brought in enormous revenues. From the eastern to the southern shores of the lake region, there were many villages engaged in salt production. The large salt mine had also developed from these salt-producing villages. It was closest to the bustling Lake Capital City, which made transportation extremely convenient, so the population gathered, and the production capacity was the highest, able to supply the demand for salt of hundreds of thousands of people.


    After traveling southward for a short while, they reached the large salt mine. Piles of white salt sparkled under the sunlight, weathered by the wind and sun and mixed with earth, taking on a light shade of grey. Hundreds or even thousands of salt workers labored here. There were only forty or fifty samurai supervising them. From time to time, cloaked merchants came with slaves to load up their goods in a hurry and left hastily.


    Looking around, between the mountains and woods, was a vast expanse of white. When a breeze blew, whisking up fine grains of salt, a salty wind met the face as if one were standing by the boundless seaside.


    Xiulote stopped in his tracks, beholding this magnificent scene, and couldn¡¯t help feeling impressed: Salt, truly was the real wealth of the medieval era!


    "Kuode, how many salt workers are there? How much salt is produced every day?" The young man¡¯s eyes were bright.


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s question, Kuode sighed inwardly, feeling a headache coming on. His Highness was good in every respect, except that he always asked for specific numbers. When there were so few people below who truly knew numbers, how could he give an accurate answer.


    After pondering for a moment, the craftsman supervisor cautiously responded.


    "There are nearly a thousand salt workers here. According to the most recent standards of measurement in the market, each person produces at least a few liters of salt per day. Altogether, it would be several thousand liters of salt. This salt all belongs to the Alliance."


    Then, he thought further and whispered.


    "Of course, the actual production is probably far more than that. Salt is a necessity; even the tribal people in the forests need it. Salt workers and supervisors often sell it privately, and merchants also make secret deals, secretly taking away some of the output."


    Xiulote was slightly shocked.


    "For such an important product as salt, why doesn¡¯t the Alliance strictly control it and levy tribute?"


    After pondering for a while, Kuode continued the conversation in a low voice. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Alliance produces lake salt and rock salt in abundance. If we were to strictly control it here, the merchants would naturally gather in other villages that produce salt. Rather than let them move to the fiefs of the Great Nobility, it is better to trade in the Royal Family¡¯s territory here. Moreover, the substantial profits from the private trades all flow into the hands of the Nobility at various levels."


    Xiulote frowned slightly. He thought for a long while and finally nodded slowly, suppressing his dissatisfaction.


    As they talked, a supervisor samurai in charge of management hurried over from a distance, his round face full of smiles.


    An escort had already stepped forward to identify themselves, and the supervisor samurai knelt down respectfully, loudly hailing Xiulote.


    "The revered presence of His Highness is a blessing from the Guardian God! I am willing to give my life for the great His Highness!"


    The salute echoed far and wide, and other supervisor samurai came upon hearing it. The supervisors kneeled down and paid their respects in disarray; Xiulote looked at them expressionlessly. When the supervisors¡¯ performance ended, the young man looked towards the salt fields again. Cloaked merchants had already disappeared without a trace.


    Xiulote lowered his eyes slightly, then opened them again and smiled as he accepted the flattery of the supervisors. Then the young man waved his hand, signaling for them to return to their positions. Afterwards, he strode forward, and surrounded by samurai, he approached the noisy and busy salt workers.


    The tools used by the salt workers were very simple: stone shovels for digging, stone hoes for loosening the soil, and stone picks for extracting the salt mineral. They used bags made of jute to carry the salty mud, and large ceramic jars to transport water for washing the salt.


    Xiulote just stood quietly beside the salt workers, watching.


    The salt workers first dug up salt-rich soil from the lakeshore, underground saline soil, or salt spring soil. They then thoroughly and reasonably mixed these soils. Next, they piled the saline soil into mounds, waiting for filtration, next to these were shallow pits made of sand and limestone.


    Subsequently, the salt workers poured the clear water from the ceramic jars slowly from above the salt piles, letting the water flow evenly through the saline soil, dissolving and carrying away the salt content. The saltwater gradually flowed out from the bottom of the piles, down the designed channels, slowly into the pits. This process of dissolving and filtering out the salt was quite slow and required sufficient strength and enduring patience.


    Some pits were cone-shaped, large and deep, half a meter deep with a diameter of one meter. The salt workers then scooped out the brine from these pits into ceramic pots to boil, obtaining crystallized salt. Once dry under the sun, this crystallized salt could be sold as table salt.


    Another type of pit was a flat, shallow evaporation pond. The brine was evenly spread in the pond, and under the scorching sun of the tropical Highlands, it quickly turned into crystal white powder. The evaporation ponds had coarse and shallow filtration setups; although slightly slower, the quality of the salt was better.


    Xiulote stepped forward, picked up some salt grains with his finger, and tasted them. Similar to the table salt they used, the production here was all rough salt. The larger grains hitting the tip of the tongue created a burst of salty taste in the mouth. The young man tasted it again, confirming it was grey salt. It had a tough texture, full of a mineral salty fragrance, and was moist, perfect for roasting meat or cooking beans.

 Chapter 204 - 115: The Salt Mine and Salt Workers_2

    Xiulote nodded slightly. Then, his gaze shifted, observing the salt workers gathered in several clusters around him, noisy and chaotic, occasionally glancing this way.


    Similar to the gold miners, the salt workers were lean and had distinct facial features. They also came from nearby villages and settlements, banding together, supporting their respective salt worker leaders. However, unlike the simple demeanor the gold miners maintained due to strict constraints, the temperament of the salt workers was far more fierce and combative.


    Even with the presence of a significant figure at the salt fields, the salt workers continued to jostle and softly curse at each other. Xiulote faintly heard phrases like "south, salt road, fortune". He frowned slightly, the previous dissatisfaction accumulating in his heart. The young man looked sternly toward Bertade.


    The Head Warrior bowed his head in salute, then solemnly waved forward. The accompanying elite Samurai immediately drew their war clubs and advanced in orderly trots, harshly shouting at the salt workers, "Kneel, be quiet!". Fearful, the salt workers stepped back, and most hastily fell to the ground. A minority of salt workers, resentfully cursing, retaliated but were promptly subdued by the Samurai as they skillfully swung their clubs, using the wooden blunt end to knock them down mercilessly.


    Xiulote observed for a moment, the resistance of the salt workers was not worth mentioning in martial arts; they had no power to retaliate against the charging Samurai. However, they instinctively covered for each other, forming supportive squads, only to be knocked down together. This innate understanding was one of the most critical qualities in team combat and key to the coordination of the spear formation.


    The young man nodded to himself. He looked at the last fallen group of salt workers and pointed at a salt worker leader at the center. Immediately, two Leather Armor Samurai approached and dragged the leader forward. About a dozen salt workers behind him tried to struggle to save their leader but were struck again, rolling on the ground in agony.


    The salt worker leader was just over thirty years old, with a fierce face and an unruly arrogance that couldn¡¯t be concealed. He was pulled before Xiulote, raising his head boldly to scrutinize the young man¡¯s attire and even pausing for a moment on the young man¡¯s face.


    Seeing this, Bertade¡¯s gaze turned cold. The Head Warrior stepped forward, pinched the back of the leader¡¯s neck, and then swiftly struck the man¡¯s armpit and abdomen several times. The leader¡¯s eyes first widened violently, then his pupils constricted dramatically as he let out a low moan. Subsequently, he slumped forward, falling face-first into the salty soil, saliva uncontrollably leaking from the corner of his mouth.


    After a while, he regained consciousness, kneeling fearfully, not daring to raise his head again. The fierceness had vanished from his face. Sweat seeped out, forming beads that fell onto the salty soil, splashing with a faint but distinct sound.


    Xiulote watched all this calmly. A deadly silence and quiet fell over the salt fields. The supervising Samurai also knelt down in salute. Merely fifty to sixty armored elite Samurai had subdued over a thousand salt workers. Untrained salt workers, however fierce, were merely unarmed civilians.


    A death-like silence lasted for two quarters of an hour, the salt workers remained petrified, silent and still. Only then did the young man slightly smile. As long as the oppression was sufficient, the salt workers¡¯ discipline was actually quite feasible.


    "Are you the leader of the salt workers¡¯ rebellion? What¡¯s your name?"


    "Ah! Respected High Priest, I am not the leader of the salt workers, nor dare we rebel against you! I¡¯m just... I¡¯m just the team leader elected by our village, there are many like me. Just now, my brothers were impulsive, please..."


    "What¡¯s your name?" a cold voice came from above.


    "I am Moreno." Moreno dared not lift his head, his abdomen still in severe pain.


    "How many salt workers are there among the nearby villages?"


    "This... many villages quietly make salt, men, women, old and young alike. As many as several hundred, as few as dozens; adding up to about a thousand people here at the great salt mines, there are overall more than three thousand workers. I couldn¡¯t tell you the exact number."


    Moreno¡¯s forehead was sweaty, unsure of what the Great Nobility in front of him intended.


    "Moreno, if I gave you warriors and wealth, how many salt workers could you bring me?"


    "This... Sir, are you dealing with the salt workers? Please spare our lives, Sir! We all do small business, even if we secretly sell a bit of salt, most revenue goes to the nobles in the capital. That little wealth, to someone like you, a Great Noble, is but an ant¡¯s leg!"


    "Moreno, I¡¯ll ask you one more time, how many salt workers can you gather for me?" an authoritative voice came, carrying slight fluctuations, seemingly unwavering.


    Moreno trembled slightly. Unable to see the Great Noble¡¯s expression, he could only guess the mood and thoughts of the Great Noble. He hesitated before speaking.


    "Our village... can provide up to three hundred people. The salt they produce will all be offered to you."


    "Well, then you are of no use to me. Someone, take him out and sacrifice him to the gods!"


    The samurai immediately approached and held onto the arms of the leader of the salt miners.


    Cruel fate descended from the sky, and Moreno instantly felt a chill run through his body as he cried out with all his might. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My lord, my lord! If it¡¯s wealth you desire, I have a connection here, a tremendously profitable trade that will surely satisfy you!"


    Xiulote waved his hand for the samurai to stop and looked at Moreno with interest.


    "Speak."


    "Respected High Priest, a great merchant from Tarasco was recently executed in the capital, apparently for having offended some Great Nobility. With his death, a huge gap has suddenly appeared in the saturated southern salt route. My brothers and I are eager to seize this money-making opportunity. Tensions among the salt miners were high, and the earlier commotion was because of this, not intended to offend you."


    "The southern salt route? Heading to Mistec and Tlaxcala?" Xiulote recalled something and asked gravely.


    "My lord is truly wise! With just fifty, no, thirty elite warriors and a bit of your protection, I can get involved in the southern trade. I¡¯ll hand over seventy, no, eighty percent of the profits to you! That is truly a white Gold River!"


    Moreno¡¯s voice carried a slight excitement; he couldn¡¯t help but raise his voice.


    Xiulote frowned. The southern trade routes to Mistec and Tlaxcala were not under the control of the Alliance; local nobles and foreign trading groups all participated. The hostile people of Tlaxcala had always managed to obtain important strategic resources from the Mexica Alliance, including salt, cotton, and even copperware.


    Xiulote once again scrutinized the kneeling leader of the salt miners. Daring to be involved in such trade routes, he clearly had deep roots in the local villages. The young man pondered for a moment and asked coldly again.


    "Moreno, I ask you one last time, how many salt miners can you gather for me?"


    "Ah, this, my lord...I... with just fifty samurai and enough cotton, I can take control of the salt miners from the villages for you! There will certainly be two thousand men! But you must hold your own against the nobles in the capital, they are a bunch of greedy hyenas!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote finally nodded slightly in satisfaction. The young man extended his left hand.


    "Lift your head."


    For the first time, Moreno raised his head and saw the expressionless face of the young priest, then looked at his slender left hand. After hesitating for a moment, he scanned the armor of the surrounding warriors again, contemplating the family crest on it, but still lacking in knowledge, he could not recall it.


    He then glanced at the supervisor warriors, also prostrate on the ground, before gritting his teeth and crawling forward a few steps. Then, respectfully bowing his head, he mimicked the samurai¡¯s loyalty, allowing the young man¡¯s left hand to rest in his hair.


    "Respected High Priest, I am ready to die for you!"


    Xiulote grabbed the hair of the leader of the salt miners. He pondered for a moment and still took out the long dagger he carried with him, cutting off a lock of Moreno¡¯s hair.


    "Moreno, under the witness of the Chief Divine, the ¡¯Divine Revelator¡¯ accepts your loyalty! I will cast your hair into the sacred fire at the Priestly Temple, and report your loyalty to the all-powerful Guardian God. Take this token, and report to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion tomorrow!"


    Bertade took out a jade talisman engraved with Xiulote¡¯s name and handed it to the leader of the salt miners. Moreno trembled slightly. He couldn¡¯t believe what he saw in the young man before him, then truly respectfully prostrated on the ground.


    Xiulote nodded silently. He made one last survey of the vast white saline field, gazing deeply at the supervisor of the warriors, and then left surrounded by his guard. Long after he had gone, the salt miners slowly rose from the ground, looking at each other speechlessly.


    The saline field was still snowy white, the salt water silently permeating, accumulating in the salt ponds forming shapes with unclear significance. Moreno held his abdomen, bowed his head, and silently watched the reflection in the salt pool. After a while, he shook his head with a bitter smile. The other salt miners also gathered around him, looking blankly at the salt pond.


    In the white salt pond, the clear salt water slowly flowed, reflecting the unsteady images of people, just as their unforeseeable futures.

 Chapter 205 - 116: An Unexpected Discovery

    A group of people walked out of the large salt mine. Xiulote let out a long breath, which turned into a faint white mist in the cold, slightly damp breeze.


    He looked around, the salt mine was built in a valley dense with salt springs. In the low-lying areas were extensive white saline soil, interspersed with many small brown mounds. The vast expanse looked like a world after the snow, with the slightly arched brown mounds resembling eyes gazing up at the sky.


    Xiulote shook his head, bringing his thoughts back to the salt mine industry. The demand for salt was an important factor in the formation of the Central American Tribal Alliance. Only a stronger organizational connection like the Tribal Alliance could allow the vast numbers of Central American ancestors to more easily obtain essential living materials, through war or peace.


    These essential living materials also included cotton to ward off the cold, obsidian for weapons and tools, and jade to satisfy religious needs. Salt, cotton, obsidian, and jade were also the strategic materials that the Mexica Alliance actively sought to control. In contrast, flashy ornaments such as gold, silver, and feathers seemed less important.


    The young boy walked on in contemplation. Unintentionally, he stepped on one of the arched brown mounds, immediately lost his balance and stumbled. The mound looked dense but was actually quite loose. As soon as he stepped on it, it collapsed beneath his foot. The loose saline soil engulfed his ankles, and grains of soil seeped through the edges of his deerskin boots, falling into the plain laces of his simple socks.


    Xiulote struggled to pull his foot free and as he walked on, the grainy saline soil grated painfully against the sole, with a faint sensation of skin irritation. The young man bent down to remove his footwear, but it was as if he¡¯d been cursed by a soil sprite. His eyes widened in shock as he stared fixedly at the brown soil, lost in thought and motionless.


    "White saline ground, brown loose soil, grains like ant eggs... This is..."


    Xiulote froze like a statue, with countless fragments of reality and fantasy flickering past like fleeting shadows, ultimately settling on a certain apocalyptic survival scenario. He opened his mouth in amazement and murmured softly.


    Seeing the suddenly motionless young man, the surrounding Samurai looked at each other, puzzled.


    Under Bertade¡¯s command, they cautiously drew their weapons, spread out to guard the area, wary of any potential enemy. The Head Warrior observed for a moment but did not disturb the young man¡¯s "Divine Revelation." He just somberly took out his longbow, angled it diagonally, and pointed an arrow towards the ground, ready for the soil sprites that could bewitch hearts according to Mexica myths. The surroundings instantly became deathly still, with silence reigning between heaven and earth.


    After a moment, Xiulote gestured to the guard. His expression was unusually serious.


    "Get the overseer of the salt pans here."


    The guard bowed and hurried away in silence. The young man continued to look at the ground, his eyes shining with a brilliant light, deep in thought and speechless.


    After a while, the round-faced overseer came from the large salt mine. Seeing the tense scene before him, sweat appeared on his forehead, and he cautiously slowed his pace. Then, urged fiercely by the guard, he reluctantly walked to the center of the Samurai¡¯s circle.


    "Respected Priest, may I know your orders?"


    The round-faced overseer bowed deeply, following the young man¡¯s gaze, but he saw nothing.


    "What is this brown loose soil?"


    Xiulote asked solemnly, pointing towards the ground.


    The round-faced overseer gave another look and noticed the young man¡¯s foot trapped by the loose soil. He knelt in trepidation.


    "Respected Priest, this brown loose soil has nothing to do with the large salt mine! For most of the year, it doesn¡¯t appear, and the saline land is quite convenient to traverse. Only when the cold days descend, like now in January, does this brown loose soil suddenly emerge from the land.


    Legend has it that this is because the soil sprites awaken from their sleep during the cold days. They move underground, pushing the soil up, but they don¡¯t harm people. As long as spring comes, especially when the rain falls, they will sleep again."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, his eyes sparkling with insight. He asked urgently, his voice filled with eagerness.


    "Is it saline soil?"


    The round-faced overseer looked at the young man¡¯s face, unable to grasp what His Highness was focusing on. He carefully reported the truth.


    "This brown loose soil is indeed salty saline soil. But ordinarily, the salt miners don¡¯t use it to make salt because salt made from it tastes slightly bitter and even a bit spicy. Sometimes, hunters from the mountains come to dig up some of the soil to treat hides. Since it¡¯s not used in the mine, we haven¡¯t paid it much attention."


    Hearing this, Xiulote hesitated for a moment but still extended his finger, touched a bit of the brown loose saline soil, and tasted it. He noted the normal saltiness first, followed by a tinge of bitterness and a faint spiciness. A bright light shone in the young man¡¯s eyes.


    "What color is the salt made from these soils?" Xiulote¡¯s tone was infused with joy.


    "The color of the salt? Salt¡­ it¡¯s all white."


    The round-faced overseer kept his head down, inwardly wondering if His Highness had been bewitched by the soil sprite.


    "Can the salt be burned?" the young man continued to inquire.


    "Salt, burn? This... Your Highness, we have never tried it."


    The round-faced overseer was utterly confused, and his certainty about his earlier assumption grew stronger.


    Xiulote¡¯s expression became serious as he thought about the soil, a thrilling hypothesis gradually coming to mind. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Saline ground, brown loose saline soil, ant-egg-sized grains. Appearing in winter, salty yet bitter and slightly spicy, this must be... this has to be saltpeter! The most important ingredient for making gunpowder!"

 Chapter 206 - 116: An Unexpected Discovery_2

    Thinking about this, Xiulote straightened his back with excitement, his eyes shining brightly. He looked up at the clear sky, where the sun was only slightly tilting westward, still a good while away from setting. The young man paced back and forth twice before decisively waving his hand and shouting loudly.


    "Bertade, we won¡¯t go to the Obsidian Stone Mine just yet, let¡¯s head back to the Saline Soil fields!"


    Having said that, Xiulote strode back the way they had come, asking as he walked.


    "What is your name?"


    "Respected Highness, I am Cavali, a descendant of the nobility from Tenochtitlan, willing to die for the great Highness! Marshal Casal is my clan uncle, and I had the honor of campaigning with you against the wicked Otomi people."


    In a wealthy place like the great saline fields, the managers were bound to be descendants of nobility. Xiulote nodded slightly and asked casually.


    "Oh? A relative of an old friend! How has General Casal been lately?"


    "General Casal is at leisure at home, peacefully teaching the younger generations. He often tells us that his greatest regret in life is not having followed the great King earlier. Now, he is prepared to lead troops for the King at any moment, to fight vigorously until death!"


    The group had walked for a while and the saline fields were now in sight. Overseer Cavali respectfully followed, staying a step behind Xiulote.


    While responding with fervent reverence, subtly changing the way he addressed Xiulote and making covert, swift hand signals to the overseers of the saline fields. The overseers looked over for a moment and then came swarming over, once again offering their salutations in succession. Only the smallest figure disappeared into the saline fields.


    Xiulote fell into contemplation. The Alliance¡¯s saline fields had been in peace for a long time, with huge interests at stake, corruption had seeped into every level. If the loose saline soil was as he suspected, then he must vigorously reform the saline fields. Or he might as well start from scratch and establish a dedicated military-industrial department.


    No sooner had he entered the saline fields than the young man solemnly ordered: "Have the salt workers collect the loose brown saline soil! Clear the innermost salt-making area, and have the Guard Warriors protect it. Let all the overseer warriors go outside to supervise the workers!"


    At the edge of the salt pools, Moreno was quietly contemplating life and the future, his fierce face displaying rare confusion and uncertainty. Surrounded by several dozen muscular, bare-chested salt worker confidants, they all stood together, puzzledly gazing at the salt pools.


    After an unknown amount of time, the piercing sound of a conch shell suddenly filled the saline fields. Moreno snapped back to reality, seeing the handsome and ruthless Highness return. He shuddered involuntarily, instinctively pressing his abdomen, which was still faintly aching.


    Soon, an overseer warrior came over with orders. They all put down their work and headed to the alkali fields to dig up brown, loose soil for the distinguished Highness. Moreno was baffled, but he obediently took his shovel, sacks, and his brothers, and set off.


    The brown, loose saline soil was everywhere. In this cold season, sometimes the salt workers would trample on this kind of loose soil for fun, betting on who would be dragged away by the spirits beneath. After working for a quarter of an hour, they filled the sacks and lingered a while to waste time before rejoining the main force and returning.


    Moreno handed over the bags of saline soil and was just about to find a place to rest when he saw the formidable Head Warrior approaching.


    "Moreno, the Highness summons you! Lead a few experienced salt-boilers and follow me inside," said the serene Head Warrior with a slight smile.


    Moreno shivered. He glanced around, then thought for a moment before compliantly leading a few confidants into the inner layers of the saline fields.


    The interior of the saline fields had been cleared. In a concealed corner, stern elite warriors sealed off the surroundings. Salt workers delivered bags of brown saline soil and were promptly chased away, with even the overseeing warriors not allowed to approach.


    Amidst the protection of his escorts, Xiulote observed the brown soil and the salt pits, struggling to recall his knowledge of chemistry from a past life, his expression melancholic. If he had known this day would come, he should have studied harder in his youth.


    From a distance, Moreno and the salt workers knelt down respectfully. The young man nodded, dispensing with any pleasantries, and immediately ordered them to make salt with the brown soil.


    Under the watchful eyes of many warriors, the fierce salt worker chief began to work timidly like an obedient house dog. He piled up the saline soil and then collected the murky brine. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote watched carefully; the brine had a very faint red-brown tinge. The young man was mildly pleased, lost in thought.


    Then Moreno stoked a fire, boiling the water in the pits and extracting a white salt powder mixed with brown. Finally, he looked up at the imposing Highness, his face showing confusion.


    After observing the salt powder for a while, Xiulote reached out to taste it again. Bertade gently held his arm, shaking his head. He then dabbed a bit with his fingertip and tasted it.


    "Salty, a bit bitter, slightly spicy," he described.


    The young man nodded. He stepped back and let his guard light a Fire Igniter, attempting to ignite the salt powder on the ground. The salt powder burned slightly, emitting a bit of flame and what seemed like very faint smoke, then it had no further reaction.


    A look of joy initially crossed Xiulote¡¯s face, which then turned to confusion. He pondered in distress, recognizing that it had to be Saltpeter, but the extracted nitrate content wasn¡¯t high enough, with too many impurities.


    "Saltpeter, salty taste, that must have sodium chloride. The nitrate in Saltpeter should exist as nitrate ions. Since it comes from the soil, it should be Calcium Nitrate. I remember from my textbooks, the final product should be Potassium Nitrate. That means I need to remove the calcium first... that¡¯s right, I need precipitation... when in doubt, add wood ash!"

 Chapter 207 - 116: Unexpected Discovery_3

    Xiulote looked up at the sky, trying hard to recall the faint snippets from movies and books. Drawing on the chemical content learned from textbooks, he speculated about the composition of the soil and the final products, considering how to remove unwanted impurities and how to derive the desired raw materials from the mixed soil.


    The young man kept thinking, constantly experimenting. He refined the operational processes, observing each product from the treatments. The fragments of memory, like scattered and missing puzzle pieces, were difficultly pieced together into an effective complete process.


    Moreno sighed inwardly. With his head in the clouds, under the command of His Highness, he treated the soil in various ways to extract something called "burning salt."


    Time slowly passed and the old sun headed for its return.


    Finally, the clear "saltwater" appeared in front of Xiulote, who took an exhilarating deep breath. The youth couldn¡¯t help but look up at the sky; the setting sun was already brilliant, on the eve of the old day¡¯s close. He dispatched a guard back to the Capital City to inform his grandfather that he would not return tonight, as he was busy with urgent matters.


    The sky gradually darkened, and the samurai lit bonfires around the perimeter. They silently guarded the priest, His Highness, with solemn gazes watching the operation under the "Divine Revelation," as if witnessing a mysterious and sublime sacrificial rite.


    Moreno toiled hard. The bonfire roared, the "saltwater" boiled and rolled, bringing searing steam, and there was a pungent smell in the air. His ferocious face was covered in beads of sweat, mentally cursing His Highness a hundred times, yet his hands obediently followed His Highness¡¯s commands. Many commands constantly changed, and the same ones were repeated several times, all at His Highness¡¯s whim, with no certainty.


    Xiulote looked at the product again. After pondering for a moment, he decided he would rather be busier with two more attempts to ensure the effectiveness of the procedures. Thus, the gloomy salt mine director began the process again, until the youth nodded in satisfaction.


    Unknowingly, the sunset fell in the west, and darkness enveloped the land.


    In the dim salt fields, only the burning bonfires marched through the shadows. The dignified young man meditated deeply, the salt mine director bowed his head busily, the elite samurai stood solemnly guard, and the overseers and salt workers gathered in the distance, frowning with distressed faces, not daring to leave. Willingly or not, everyone together witnessed the opportunity for a revolutionary era.


    After a long while, the high concentration "saltwater" finally cooled completely, and layers of white ice-like solids gradually precipitated from the solution. Under the guidance of His Highness, the salt mine director carefully removed the white ice solids¡¯ crystals, peeled off the outer layer, gathered them together, and then dried them again. These crystals were so beautiful, crystalline, and transparent.


    Xiulote held his breath, personally lit the fire igniter, and ignited a small amount of dried white ice crystals.


    In an instant, dazzling flames burst forth in the dark, emitting a thick plume of purple-blue smoke. Everyone recoiled in horror, fearfully watching the burning "salt." Only the young man, head raised, couldn¡¯t help but laugh out loud!


    "This is saltpeter! Saltpeter from the soil of salt flats, charcoal found everywhere, sulfur from the volcanoes of the east and west, the era of gunpowder is right before us!" S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote laughed heartily as he gazed at the starry sky, which was already full of stars. Under the brilliant starlight, the curtain of the era slowly opened, and after a long darkness, dawn was not too far in the future.


    And the future tomorrow, will be a brand new era. In the flames of the new era, the powerful Mexica people will possess the strength to thoroughly change everything!

 Chapter 208 - 117: Salt Fields, Obsidian, and Volcanoes

    The night was deep, and after a day of exhaustion, Xiulote fell asleep beneath the starry heavens.


    Dreams beneath the stars were always bright and resplendent. The Milky Way of the Middle Ages swirled with countless shining stars, much like the era¡¯s great figures emerging one by one in his dreams, carrying the distant combat and cries. That was until the immense Clark Sailing Ship came over from the horizon, and amid the booming cannons, the pale-skinned and yellow-skinned gunners exchanged fire at sea and shore, East and West. Then, the young man suddenly awoke.


    He opened his eyes wide to the sky above. The morning star Qiming shone on the horizon, dawn light touched upon the East, and the God of Death had already escorted the sun, traversing the long darkness, once again rising in the sky, bringing light to this land!


    Xiulote lay upon the soft dry grass, quietly watching the sunrise, inhaling the scent of withered grass mixed with salt.


    Bertade¡¯s eyes were slightly closed as if in a light slumber. Sensing something, he opened his eyes and saw the daydreaming youth, cracking a slight smile. The Head Warrior had grown accustomed to the youth¡¯s "Divine Revelation" and showed only slight concern about the visions of the previous night. He believed that Xiulote was the Mexica people¡¯s dawn, the only hope for the common people, thus he gladly followed, protecting him till old age.


    The old carpenter Kuode slept lightly. He had observed in silence the previous night, staring absently into the profound smoke. From the youth¡¯s agitated behavior, he sensed a hint of ominous foreboding, the smell of more life perishing.


    Farther away, Moreno and his brothers slept together, restless through the night. The leader of the salt workers tossed and turned, occasionally glancing at his hands worriedly, then heaving deep sighs. He recalled the burning "salt," thought of the purple-blue smoke, and contemplated the flames under the moonlight, filled with anxiety.


    "Have I been cursed by the High Priest, exchanging future lives for the sinister moon¡¯s boon?"


    Moreno, the fierce, once again fell into a mire of unknown fears and confusion. Facing the dawn, he stealthily glanced at the High Priest, but saw him already up, practicing martial arts with the fearsome Head Warrior.


    By the time the first rays of the sun emerged, Xiulote finally completed his daily training. Having had a simple breakfast in the Saline Soil field, the samurai were all ready to depart.


    The young man first turned to Cavali, who stood waiting at the side. The supervisor¡¯s smile was filled with deep reverence.


    "Cavali, you said yesterday that this brown fluffy Saline Soil only appears on cold days?"


    Cavali fearfully glanced at the Saltpeter on the ground. By now, he was fully convinced of the legend of the earth spirits. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Respected Highness, the earth spirits awaken only at the end of November to the end of February, during the coldest time of the dry season, leaving behind this soil tinged with Divinity. At other times, it¡¯s hard to see such soil. And when the rainy season comes, the spirits slumber, and the divine soil completely disappears," said Cavali.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, considering the crucial point. Then, with a solemn expression, he made a decision and issued an order to the supervisor.


    "Cavali, it is January now. From today until the end of February, I want you to direct the salt workers to collect as much of this fluffy Saline Soil as possible! The Priesthood needs this divine soil for an important ritual to summon Heavenly Divine. You are permitted to requisition the surrounding villagers to dig. The collected divine soil must be dried and stored separately from other salinities," he commanded.


    Hearing of the sacrificial rite, Cavali¡¯s eyes conveyed deep reverence. But soon, awe for the myth was replaced by practical interests. He respectfully looked at the Highness, but his quietly voiced reply contained a note of refusal.


    "This, Your Highness... the great salt mine has daily quotas for salt harvesting. And the salt workers have many tasks to complete..."


    "Cavali, kneel down!" Xiulote¡¯s commanding presence brooked no denial.


    The elite samurai immediately stepped forward, taking hold of Cavali¡¯s shoulders. They lifted their legs, striking precisely at Cavali¡¯s popliteal fossa, and the supervisor crashed painfully to his knees, his brow furrowing in agony.


    "Cavali, do not think I am unaware of your dealings with the merchants! The priestly ceremony concerns the Heavenly Divine. Those who disrupt the ritual, regardless of their status, will be punished by death! Do you want to be sacrificed on the Great Temple¡¯s Sacrificial Stone?" said Xiulote.


    Hearing this, Cavali bowed his head in fear, sweat streaming down his round face.


    "I will seek decrees from the King and the High Priest. Starting today, most supervisors will be dismissed, leaving only four or five for handovers. I will send another sixty samurai to oversee the collection in the salt fields. Call upon the surrounding villagers! The Alliance will distribute a batch of cotton cloth as compensation. General Casal is already at leisure at home; you must understand your own value for survival!" Xiulote announced threateningly.


    Hearing the real threat, Cavali finally could bear no more. He prostrated on the ground and accepted the orders.


    Xiulote watched the supervisor for a while with an impassive face, ensuring his compliance. Then he turned to the silent Moreno.


    "Moreno, take your loyal men, pack the Saltpeter collected yesterday, and accompany me to the Capital City. On the way, think about how we can distill more burning powder!" Xiulote ordered.


    Moreno let out an internal cry of distress. The Highness, neglecting the southern trade routes rich with Gold River, instead went to refine the evil and peculiar Saline Soil. He had never heard of a ritual using such soil, fearing it might be a sacrifice to the original evil, Xipactli... With that thought, the chief of the salt workers shuddered. He only nodded respectfully, daring not to speak further.


    Afterward, the salt workers again bustled about their tasks. Before long, over two hundred Temple Guards in dark War Clothes, wearing noble Beast Helmets, hurried to the entrance of the salt field.

 Chapter 209 - 117: Salt Fields, Obsidian, and Volcanoes_2

    Xiulote, escorted by a squad of guards, advanced forward. He was slightly startled to find that the leader of the Temple Guards was none other than Elvi, a samurai he had known since childhood who guarded the Holy City Butterfly Palace and who loved to flash a fearsome grin.


    "Elvi, did grandfather send you here?"


    From beneath the wolf¡¯s head, Elvi revealed a genial smile.


    "Your Highness, I am relieved to see you. After receiving the guard¡¯s report, the High Priest was quite concerned. With the promulgation of new laws imminent and the situation in the Capital City unpredictable, the High Priest sent me with a full squad just in case," Elvi replied.


    Xiulote nodded, aware that two hundred elite Temple Guards would be enough to protect him from most nobility assaults. After pondering for a moment, he instructed Elvi.


    "Leave sixty Temple Guards to take immediate control of the Great Salt Mine. I will return to report to the King and the High Priest about this matter."


    Elvi accepted the order without hesitation. Then, he selected three teams of twenty to disperse the grumbling overseers and secure control of the salt field inside and out.


    Seeing the actions of the Temple Guards, the chief overseer, Cavali, offered no resistance and cooperated obediently with the work. The salt workers, keeping their distance, watched the situation for a while and then resumed harvesting the brown Saltine Soil, prodded on by Cavali¡¯s loud scolding.


    Observing that everything was on track, Xiulote nodded and set out with his two hundred samurai guards and several dozen salt workers carrying bags of Saltpeter, hurrying towards the Lake Capital City.


    On the road, Xiulote pondered carefully.


    He had no trust in the corrupt overseers of the Great Salt Mine, and the window for collecting Saltpeter was exceedingly short. After some hesitation, he resolved to take direct control of the Great Salt Mine.


    The Great Salt Mine had originally been under the control of the Royal Nobility. The sudden intervention, under the pretext of sacrificial rites, created an actual conflict between religious authority and royal power. He now had to return to report to King Aweit to fulfil the necessary procedures while also facing the dissatisfaction of the stakeholders.


    The group traveled northeast, where the saline flats gradually gave way to neatly ordered farmland. Due to frequent volcanic activity, the soil here bore a faint gray hue, rich with fertile Volcanic Ash, hence the crop yield was exceptionally high.


    At the edge of the ashen fields stood a vibrant Obsidian mine along a small hill. The soft morning sunlight shimmered across the glossy mineral field, refracting blues, greens, purples, blacks, golds, and silvers, creating a rainbow-like tapestry of extraordinary beauty. Obsidian itself is a form of natural glass.


    This mine had already been included in the survey plan. Xiulote entered the mining area, paused to observe. The dozens of guards, startled by the large group of samurai, drew their weapons warily. Soon, Kuode, the overseer of the craftsmen, hastened forward, assuring these familiar guards that the respected prince himself had come for inspection.


    Obsidian is one of the Alliance¡¯s most critical military supplies. It is a dense volcanic glass formed within rhyolite lava flows, solidified quickly without forming stable crystals because of the rapid cooling of the lava. The volcanic glass has no regular structure and internally fractures into smooth, curved, intersecting patterns. These fracture points create edges sharper than a steel blade, easily capable of slicing through animal hide and flesh.


    Thus, the ancestors of Central America fashioned sharp Obsidian arrowheads and war club blades from it, turning them into deadly weapons on the battlefield. In more recent times, these Obsidian blades were also utilized for the razor-sharp edges of surgeons¡¯ scalpels.


    The Mexica Alliance firmly controlled the most plentiful Obsidian mines in Central America, forming the basis of its strength. The allied states had three major natural Obsidian mines, located to the northeast at Pachuca, to the east at Otumba, and to the south at Chicolloapan. The large Obsidian mine at Pachuca was situated near the Holy City of Teotihuacan and served as the cornerstone for the ancient Teotihuacan civilization¡¯s prosperity.


    Smaller Obsidian mines were scattered throughout the Alliance territories near the volcanic mountains to the east and west. This particular mine was a small one owned directly by the Royal Family, with their Royal Warriors strictly supervising it.


    In the open mine, hundreds of brawny stonecutters worked shirtless, standing before the broken Obsidian veins, extracting the exposed nodules of the raw stone as sweat poured down. They began by swinging picks forcefully to break the surface, then carefully used chisels to extract the raw stones. These stones of varying sizes were then taken to the back, where military craftsmen would sift through them and perform rough processing.


    Following the veins, the military craftsmen first shaped the raw Obsidian into cylindrical forms. Placing the black columns between their legs, they then took up fine chisels and exerted force along the edges. With each successful incision along the side, they would shear off glass flakes of different sizes from the column¡¯s edge, much like a razor.


    The craftsmen then classified the flakes based on size and sharpness. The flakes were either double-sided, single-sided, or shaped into slabs, with most assigned to war club blades and some intended for civilian cutting tools. Only flakes with insufficiently sharp edges or worn edges were used as chiselling parts to replace the stonecutters¡¯ quickly worn tools. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And as for the large and beautiful raw stones, the military craftsmen would deliberately select and preserve them. These large raw stones would be sent to the stone crafters¡¯ workshops in the Capital City, where they would be exquisitely cut, polished, and carved into various expensive Obsidian Stone utensils. It was from these that the materials of the chief stone craftsman Losano originated.


    Xiulote tested the sharpness of the Obsidian flake. He merely grazed the blade lightly, and it sliced through the rabbit skin hanging in the workshop, cutting into the flesh of the dead animal, creating a slender and deep wound.


    The young man marveled inwardly. After thousands of years of development, from extraction and usage to processing, the Obsidian crafting skills in Central America had truly reached the pinnacle of perfection. In fact, Obsidian tools had already met the daily needs of Central American civilization, and Obsidian weapons complemented the corresponding warfare situations and the Samurai hierarchy well.


    In their early stages, Bronze tools could not offer sufficient advantage over the inexpensive and mass-produced Obsidian tools. To some extent, the advanced Obsidian craft stifled the development of Central America¡¯s metallurgical techniques, and the Bronze tools of the Tarasco people were just beginning.


    Xiulote observed for a while. His gaze first turned to the well-developed upper body muscles of the stoneworkers, then lingered on their composed expressions. Afterwards, he called a few stoneworkers, measured their discipline again, and nodded satisfactorily.


    "How many stoneworkers does the Alliance have?" the young man asked Kuode seriously, his eyes filled with anticipation.


    Kuode pondered for a moment, carefully reporting.


    "There are nearly a thousand miners in each of the three large Obsidian mines, and ten or so smaller mines vary from a few dozen to several hundred," he said.


    Then, the master craftsman hesitated before speaking.


    "But Your Highness, stoneworkers and military craftsmen are the foundation of the Alliance¡¯s military strength. The consumption of the Samurai¡¯s Obsidian flakes is extremely fast, and they may need to be replaced several times in a single battle. The skill of extracting Obsidian also requires a long time to master, and these skilled stoneworkers must serve the Alliance¡¯s hundred thousand Samurai; it is simply not possible to draft many," he explained.


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote was slightly startled. He pondered for a moment, then asked in a deep voice,


    "If we reduce the supply of large stones to the Capital City¡¯s stonemason district, how many stoneworkers could we pull together at most?"


    The master craftsman was hesitant to speak, but in the end, gave a figure.


    "We could perhaps form a regiment of eight hundred men," he replied.


    Xiulote nodded, looking at the excellent potential troops with a slight regret. After understanding the information he needed, the young man did not stay long and headed straight for the Capital City.


    When the sun reached the zenith in the sky, the Lake Capital City came into distant view. At first glance, the White Stone Capital City shimmered with lustrous splendor, and vibrant bright reds caught the eye dazzlingly. That was the red Volcanic Rock, decorating the tops of palaces and the Great Temple, symbolizing the Heavenly Divine¡¯s authority.


    Xiulote then looked towards the East of the Capital City. Amongst the stretches of mountains, the towering Popocat¨¦petl Volcano stood.


    He recalled the sights along his journey: Lacking Iron ore, abundant Gold and Silver, Salt mines, Obsidian, cultivation of volcanic ash fields, using Volcanic Rocks. Everything in Central American society was influenced by the products of volcanic activity. Geological movements determined the geographic environment, which in turn deeply constrained the local civilization, deciding its initial developmental trajectory.


    "Is civilization really determined by geography?"


    Xiulote furrowed his brows, pondering this unsolvable question. After a long while, he laughed wryly.


    "No, civilization is determined by heroes!"


    The young man stood up straight with firm confidence and commanding aura, heading towards the Capital City. Behind him, the Samurai bore solemn expressions, carrying Longbows in hand, while the salt workers bore the burden of Saltpeter, all marching together.

 Chapter 210 - 118: New Trends in the Capital City and the Alliance Government

    ```


    As everyone followed the Long Bridge made of White Stone, they entered the majestic Lake Capital City.


    On Xiulote¡¯s advice, the banks of the Long Bridge, both sides covered with mud dikes, now bore neatly planted aquatic pines and cypresses for aesthetic pleasure and reinforcement. Along the way, passers-by would step back to the banks, kneel under the trees, and offer their respects. The lake breeze brought with it the gentle sway of the young Ahuehuete trees and the fresh scent of pine and cypress.


    Xiulote looked far ahead, where the line of aqua pines and cypresses stretched for miles along both sides. With slender trunks and drooping green branches, their budding tips were bursting with vitality. They stood between the lake and the white bridge, the temples and the palaces, accompanied by sunlight and breeze, swaying with the flow of life, pure and ethereal, captivating to any beholder.


    The young man dreamed of the time when these trees would mature into a majestic sight and remembered the small bridges over the waterways of his homeland. In the turn of thought, he also recalled the name of the Ahuehuete tree, and his mind wandered far away.


    "A new ruler for the Divine Capital, inheriting the great throne, a king with elegant governance."


    At this thought, he smiled faintly and continued on.


    The streets of Tenochtitlan were broad, lined with canals, the houses neatly arranged, and order prevailed throughout. The Lake Capital City was strictly managed, with a high regard for hygiene; those who polluted the lake water would be severely punished, even put to death. Despite being home to hundreds of thousands, the Lake Island was not as dirty and disordered as other cities in Europe of the same period¡ªit somewhat resembled Ancient Rome, with a logical layout and cleanliness.


    The capital had specially constructed water channels and drainage channels, as well as public toilets.


    The two special aqueducts, extending over a hundred miles, brought water directly from the western highlands, passing through the city center, dividing the North City from the main city, and then dispersing into different urban areas. This was the path for drinking water. Next to the houses and streets, there were separate drainage ditches that guided the city¡¯s wastewater to the nearby floating farms, the chinampas. Meanwhile, public toilets were located near communities and main roads, collecting manure to replenish the nutrients consumed by the chinampas.


    The purifying of lake water relied on soil filtration and the floating farms. Surrounding the capital in Lake Texcoco, there were nine thousand hectares of chinampas, where the year-round crops absorbed nutrients from the water and decomposed the accumulated manure, constantly purifying the water. Between the chinampas swam schools of fish of various sizes, devouring organic particles from the farms and the water. The continuous farms and the massive city depended on each other, forming a clean and efficient giant ecological agricultural system.


    Xiulote paused in his steps. His gaze rested on the shady spot outside the public toilet thatched hut, where the soil was a slightly damp purplish-red.


    The young man pondered briefly; he had reflected on much yesterday. This must be another important source of saltpeter, fecal and urine nitrates. In his memory, the extraction of fecal and urine nitrates was challenging, the product impure, requiring further intricate processing. Clearly, he had not memorized the specific steps, so he would have to explore slowly.


    Xiulote made a mental note and then assigned tasks to his people: guard Elvi, with the Temple Guards, went to the Priestly Temple to report to his grandfather. The old craftsman Kuode returned to the workshop center to step up the making of longbows. Additionally, an escort guided the chief salinist, Moreno, to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion to store the saltpeter and continue studying saltpeter making.


    The young man thought for a moment and let Bertade take the dried saltpeter and then headed directly towards the administration center in the southern part of the palace district.


    The administration center was located on the south side of the central square in the capital, occupying a substantial area. It comprised over a hundred rooms with white-stone walls and red roofs, surrounded by blooming gardens and babbling water.


    To the east of the administration center was the sacred and noble Ancestor Memorial Square, with many time-worn stone pillars and simple statues adorned with carvings and images.


    Xiulote paused briefly to inspect the site. Rebuilding efforts were underway, seemingly to erect more ancestor stone pillars and statues. After a moment of thought, he remembered this was also part of the reform plan. The genealogy of the Mexica ancestors, spanning over a hundred years, was being extended further back to flawlessly connect with the mythology of the Olmec civilization from three thousand years prior.


    "Generational inheritance, an unbroken lineage across millennia, is established this way,"


    Xiulote chuckled at himself and moved on.


    The west side of the administrative palace was the capital¡¯s court, with white walls and black detailing, and its base stood several meters high. It was responsible for adjudicating civil disputes within the Texcoco Lake District. From afar, the young man could see a High Priest in a deep robe and feather crown, standing on an elevated platform, proclaiming something in a clear voice. Below the platform were many opulently dressed merchants, each with attendants and samurai, bowing or kneeling.


    The merchants were buzzing with conversation, and the din carried faintly from a distance. The High Priest, with a look of indifference, waved a hand, and hundreds of Temple Guards took several steps forward, striking their shields with war clubs to produce an intimidating howl of a tyrannical wolf. The noise from afar ceased instantly. After a moment, a large wooden board was erected in front of the court, and the merchants left dispiritedly, carrying urgent bad news as they hastily departed.


    Xiulote nodded, merchant laws were being promulgated and enforced. The government would control prices, strictly manage strategic materials, limit the use of luxury goods, impose heavy taxes, and massively prohibit divine smoke, all the while hastening the unification of measures and weights. Even though merchants could use flexible methods to circumvent many restrictions, their profits would still significantly decrease, especially for foreign merchants.


    However, despite their dissatisfaction, the influence of the great merchants was irrelevant to the bigger picture. In the young man¡¯s view, neither the merchant laws nor the commoner laws would create much disruption. The most crucial aspect of the new laws was the implementation of Noble Law, battling for the right to govern villages!


    Xiulote entered the administrative palace, at its center stood the Alliance¡¯s King¡¯s Palace, an impressive and rare two-story building.


    The upper level of the King¡¯s Palace was the throne room for the rulers of Tenochtitlan, Texcoco, and Tlacopan, and it was also the most exalted main hall for holding large meetings. Initially, the three kings occupied the prime seats together, then it changed to Texcoco and Tlacopan sitting in secondary seats. But now, the young man peering through the open window could only see a single supreme throne.


    The lower level of the King¡¯s Palace was divided into different side halls, with the most important being the halls for governmental and military affairs. As the young man walked into the King¡¯s Palace, he saw dozens, if not hundreds of nobles waiting in the vast outer hall. They were grouped by region and rank, with subtle and shifting allegiances among them. Or, more precisely, there were inner Tribal Alliances.


    Xiulote observed carefully. All these nobles came from samurai backgrounds, sturdy in physique, dressed in brightly colored war clothes. They gestured with bare hands, often raising their voices in heated arguments, engaging in martial arts contests with fists and feet where they settled disputes by might makes right. The outer hall buzzed with discussion, chaotic yet with a clear and fierce order.


    Seeing Xiulote enter with dignity, the nobles paused briefly and then swarmed towards him. Some greeted him with hearty embraces, some bowed in respect, while others watched silently with cold eyes, each posture different, their true intentions veiled and unpredictable.


    In general, the Mexica Alliance was still in the later stage of a loosely governed Tribal era, with an administration that was both simple and independent, reminiscent of the Tribal Alliances on the Eurasian steppes or the Shang Dynasty¡¯s multi-zhou groups.


    The King was at the highest level of the Alliance. Next came the "Serpent Woman" Supreme Commander and the four Cabinet Ministers, usually from the Royal Family and closely related Great Nobility. Important military and governmental matters of the Alliance were decided by the King and the Council of Five, representing the absolute political core.


    Further down were various influential nobles constituting the Alliance Council, which had both military and administrative roles. Each Third Level honored noble acted as the nucleus, with other nobles coming together in a cohesive yet fragmented array, based on rank, region, and closeness.


    The Great Nobility controlled varying numbers of private troops, held the right to collect taxes from their fiefs, and also filled different official roles, responsible for specific affairs of the Alliance. These positions could be subdivided into Central Officials, Local Officials, and Clan Officials.


    Central Official positions were appointed by the King, with common duties including taxation, building, land development, mining, salt harvesting, training, military preparation, patrolling, diplomacy, and deterrence... However, the most important duty was campaigning with the army to ensure logistical support. The Alliance had been at war for over thirty years, with warfare becoming an everyday instinct of the kingdom, where only powerful warriors received widespread acknowledgment.


    Local Officials managed their respective regions, typically being hereditary positions. Military-nobility not by descent were controlled by the central government, unable to fully pass on their titles and lands. The allegiance of mines varied between the central and local levels depending on the distance and the preciousness of the minerals. Important obsidian mines were managed solely by Central Officials, while ubiquitous gold and silver mines were largely left to the discretion of Local Officials.


    Clan Officials were essentially grassroots functionaries of the dynasty. Settlements in each region were formed by clan members, who then elected local village leaders. With the participation of priests and samurai, they formed the grassroots management structure. Within the Lake Capital City¡¯s one hundred districts, Clan and Central Officials mixed, with important artisan and warrior districts directly controlled by Central Officials, while ordinary civilian districts still elected Clan Officials.


    The Alliance¡¯s administrative officers overlapped with the three kinds of offices, including the capital¡¯s courts, local tax officers, agricultural officers, storage officers, and military academy instructors. The ratio of Central Officials depended on the level of control exerted by the central government over the area, outside the Texcoco Lake Region, where it was entirely autonomous Local and Clan Officials.


    At this thought, Xiulote slightly shook his head, recognizing that the road to centralization was long. The first step was to control more troops, strengthen the military might of the core, and carry out effective military reforms!


    Under the escort of Bertade, the young man struggled through the enthusiastic crowd of nobles. He straightened his black priestly attire and put on his solemn feather crown, then solemnly pushed open the door to the governmental hall. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the deep hall, Ahuehuete looked majestic, seated high upon the throne. The King was dressed in dark red tinged with black, his gaze as profound as the one he cast. Gillim sat sternly at a lower seat, smiling silently at the young man. Stanley, with his burly frame, sat rigidly like a wild bear at bay, nodding friendlily to the young man. To the left and right, two equally robust middle-aged nobles turned at the sound, one smiling, the other with an indifferent gaze.


    On the table before everyone, sacred cocoa drinks in clay cups shimmered with a fresh red hue, like silent Holy Blood, eerily reflecting a cold light.


    Under the King¡¯s deep and serene gaze, Xiulote reverently knelt down. With a determined expression, he touched his forehead to the ground in a solemn bow. Behind him, Bertade bowed and retreated, closing the door of the hall. A silence descended, so profound one could hear a pin drop. On the cold floor, only a plain unadorned clay jar remained, holding the sparkling, translucent saltpeter.

 Chapter 211 - One Hundred Nineteen: The King and the Cabinet Minister

    In the dimly lit great hall, the torches on the walls burned slowly, making a faint crackling sound. The windows and doors were tightly closed, with only a slight breeze coming from the vents, stirring the red and yellow flames. The flames flickered silently, casting the faces of everyone there in a light that fluctuated suddenly between brightness and darkness, like the changing inner heart of the nobility.


    Xiulote knelt in serene reverence, recalling the fleeting glimpse from just moments ago.


    Having not seen him for a while, Aweit seemed to have changed a lot. His face was cold and firm like a stone carving, his gaze deep as if it were a dark pool, and his demeanor majestic and imposing. At this moment, the King was seated on his throne, his emotions distanced, carrying a breath of divinity, like an eagle soaring into the Nine Heavens, his true form difficult to perceive.


    On the icy throne, Aweit watched the kneeling youth. His eyes shifted ever so slightly, then silently lowered to hide the fluctuations of his feelings. The King was lost in thought, remaining silent. Time passed in this way, and the mountain-like focus of everyone in the hall was concentrated on the youth, with only their faint breathing being heard in the vast hall.


    After a long while, Aweit¡¯s thoughts finally descended from the Nine Heavens. He smiled faintly and calmly began to speak.


    "Xiulote, my student, come and sit by my side," he said.


    Only then did the youth raise his head, looking at the familiar yet strange smile of his friend. His heart was full of turmoil, and he stood transfixed for several seconds before he lowered his head and took his place quietly below the throne.


    Observing Xiulote¡¯s behavior, Aweit¡¯s gaze softened somewhat. He reached out his hand habitually but paused mid-air. After a few breaths, he continued to place his palm on the youth¡¯s hair, feeling the soft texture beneath his palm as he mussed it up in line with his own heart¡¯s direction.


    The youth sat quietly. The familiar and affectionate gesture from his friend stabilized his mood. He pondered over the words that would follow.


    The seated nobles all had sharp gazes and transparent thoughts. Witnessing this scene, Gillim remained expressionless, while Stanley showed envy. The two equally robust middle-aged noblemen exchanged a glance before lowering their heads to sip the bitter-sweet cocoa in their hands.


    "Xiulote, you should have met these two Cabinet Ministers: Iskali from the Royal Family and Tepopolo from Tlatelolco," Aweit said.


    Aweit¡¯s smile vanished in an instant. He drew back his hand, his introduction carrying authority as he took hold of the cold Divine Staff again.


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote turned toward the two robust noblemen, recalling in his mind the details his grandfather had already presented to him.


    Iskali was in his forties. His gaze was indifferent, with high cheekbones and sunken temples, his face stern and strong. In Nava language, this noble name, which means the "Month of Ending," is only used by members of the Royal Family. Hearing the King¡¯s introduction, Iskali simply nodded at Xiulote, who returned the gesture with a smile.


    Iskali was a member of the Great Nobility from the Tenochtitlan Royal Family, holding jurisdiction over some Royal Warriors. He maintained neutrality during the internal wars between the brothers of the previous two kings. And when King Aweit ascended the throne, he served as an advisor in the guise of an elder of the Royal Family, becoming one of the members of the five-person Council of Politics. His backing was from many traditional nobles of the Royal Family, mostly from the Huitzil¨ªhuitl lineage, who wielded power.


    With his grandfather¡¯s detailed introductions, Xiulote managed to clear up the Royal Family¡¯s lineage. Of course, in the Mexica society that revered military power, the seniority within the Royal Family was actually not important. Even a brave warrior born out of wedlock could inherit a noble status.


    The youth and Aweit shared a common ancestor from the Royal Family, Acamapichtli.


    The descendants of Acamapichtli¡¯s royal lineage split into two branches, the firstborn Huitzil¨ªhuitl and the second son Itzcoatl, both of whom successively became the rulers of Tenochtitlan. Montezuma I was a descendant of Huitzil¨ªhuitl, from then on firmly grasping the dominant power of the Alliance.


    Xiulote¡¯s grandfather, Xutel, was a descendant of Itzcoatl and younger in age. During Montezuma I¡¯s reign, he was granted a fief in the Holy City of Teotihuacan and embarked on the path of the Priesthood. According to the precepts, Xutel could not have legitimate offspring, hence the youth¡¯s father was illegitimate.


    Aweit was the inheritor of the intermarried branches of the two Royal Families, representing the combination and balance of Royal power. His father was from the Itzcoatl lineage, Texosoxomoc, and his mother was Montezuma I¡¯s eldest daughter, Atotoztli II. Although his parents were close in age, they were in the relation of uncle and niece.


    Therefore, by paternal lineage, Aweit was the youth¡¯s close relative, an uncle; by maternal lineage, they were distant cousins of the same generation. In reality, within the large Royal Family, seniority didn¡¯t hold much meaning, and even blood relations could not withstand the test of power.


    In Xiulote¡¯s heart, Aweit was both a teacher and a friend, and he would also become a close family member. There were multiple ties between them, as well as shared aspirations. The youth hoped to maintain pure emotions and tried to preserve sincerity, even in a future where they might soar high.


    With a sigh in his heart, the youth then paid his respects to Tepopolo, who returned the gesture with a kind smile.


    Tepopolo was a distinguished noble from Tlatelolco. Tlatelolco was the North City in the Lake Capital City, and it was one of the two cities first established by the Mexica people. The Tlatelolco lineage had long intermarried with the Capital Royal Family, so he was exceptionally close to the Royal Family by blood, representing the powerful interests of the Capital¡¯s Great Nobility.


    Tepopolo possessed vast fiefs and thousands of private noble militia and dependent Samurai, as well as alliances with many Great Nobles. In last year¡¯s Royal civil war, he cautiously maintained neutrality and pledged allegiance to the victorious King Aweit at the first opportunity, hence becoming one of the Alliance¡¯s Cabinet Ministers.


    Tepopolo was also in his forties. His Nava name meant "Destroyer, Killer, and Butcher," yet contrary to that, his brow was high, his forehead sunken, his eyes sharp yet smiling, giving him an appearance of being shrewd and amiable.


    After the mutual salutations, Tepopolo smiled warmly.


    "¡¯Divine Revelator¡¯ Your Highness, your illustrious reputation is known to all in the Alliance. Many among the Nobility, myself included, have long admired you! Seeing you today confirms it¡ªyour exceptional appearance and extraordinary demeanor truly signify that you are a gift from the Heavenly Divine to the people of Mexica!" Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Upon hearing these two effusive compliments, Itzcoatl raised an eyebrow and looked over coldly once more. Gillim remained expressionless as he glanced towards Xiulote, Stanley wore a look of discontent, and the King¡¯s gaze fell once again.


    Xiulote was slightly taken aback. While the other¡¯s face was filled with a sincere smile, his intuition told him these praises were inappropriate. The boy smiled and nodded, saying nothing. Then, he took two steps forward, gently picked up the simple clay pot from the ground, and, under everyone¡¯s watchful eyes, returned to his seat with the pot in hand.


    King Aweit opened his eyes again, calmly looking towards the boy.


    "Xiulote, how is the religious reform that the elder ordered progressing? Lately, the Priesthood¡¯s activities have intensified, and you¡¯ve also been absent from the Council of Politics¡¯ meetings."


    Beneath the King was the Council of Politics, which directed the Alliance¡¯s military and political affairs. The five members included Intelligence Officer Gillim, heir apparent Xiulote, Commander-in-Chief Stanley, Royal Nobility Itzcoatl, and the honored Noble Tepopolo. Among them, the most trusted position of the "Female Serpent" was currently held by Gillim, while the military command firmly rested in King Aweit¡¯s hands.


    Xiulote respectfully saluted and replied.


    "Respected King, the religious reform has already started on the right path. The framework of the fundamental scriptures is completed, and we are gradually refining the doctrines. The establishment of the new laws is also nearing completion; both the trade law and the commoners¡¯ law will soon be announced, and after a trial period, the Noble Law will continue to be negotiated. The Church has undergone a series of rank adjustments, and literacy education is also being progressively promoted."


    Hearing that the Noble Law was soon to be trialed, Aweit nodded slightly. The bear-like Stanley appeared unconcerned, his focus solely on the boy. Itzcoatl and Tepopolo exchanged looks once more, their expressions unchanged. Gillim sat solemnly in the corner, taking in every person present.


    "After the fundamental scriptures are released, send me a copy to review," King Aweit instructed seriously. Then, he turned his attention to the clay pot in Xiulote¡¯s hands.


    "Xiulote, do you have anything to report today?"


    Xiulote nodded gravely. He opened the clay pot in his hands, revealing the sparkling and translucent saltpeter inside.


    "Is this... salt?" Stanley asked, curious.


    The boy first nodded, then shook his head.


    "This is a kind of salt that can burn, saltpeter. It¡¯s something I¡¯ve extracted from the saline soil of salt fields."


    "Burning salt?" Stanley¡¯s eyes widened, showing disbelief.


    Xiulote nodded solemnly.


    "Yes, this salt is very important. Please allow me to demonstrate for everyone."


    King Aweit¡¯s gaze fixed on the boy¡¯s face. After a moment of contemplation, he slowly nodded.


    Gillim then stood up and took the clay pot from the boy¡¯s hands. He poured out a handful of the sparkling saltpeter and, at the boy¡¯s anxious hand gestures, took back most of it. Following the boy¡¯s suggestion, Gillim donned leather armor and a helmet and then used a torch to ignite the saltpeter.


    In an instant, it was like a meteor shining bright. In the dimly lit hall, the saltpeter burned violently, emitting a bright light and puffing out purplish-cyan smoke, which floated up like the sigh of the Land of Death, emanating a strange mystery.


    On the throne, Aweit involuntarily leaned forward, observing with great interest and amazement.


    Itzcoatl and Tepopolo leaned back their heads simultaneously, their faces showing discomfort and fear. It was the first time the priestly robes on Xiulote¡¯s body entered their view, causing their suspicions to shift, silencing them instantly.


    Gillim held his breath and backed away two steps, then lightly sniffed the acrid smell in the wind. Stanley gaped, the purplish-cyan smoke quickly choking him, and he started coughing repeatedly.


    Amid the bear¡¯s coughing, Xiulote went to the window, pulled back the divine drapes with a sweep, and opened the sealed wooden windows. In an instant, the bright sunlight illuminated the dim hall, and the deep darkness was swept away at once. The breeze from the garden brought in a pleasant fragrance and the bustling voices, taking away the hall¡¯s heaviness and oppression.


    The boy faced the sunlight satisfactorily, taking a deep breath. He turned around, smiling confidently and sincerely at the people with varying expressions.

 Chapter 212 - 120: Promises and Governance

    Outside the window, it was already afternoon. The slanting sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dignitaries inside the room. Faced with things beyond their cognition, a range of true emotions finally emerged on their profound faces: there was surprise, contemplation, confusion, concern, and even fear. Xiulote, with his back to the sun¡¯s glare, looked like an angel envoy stepping out of a myth.


    As they gazed at the mysterious smoke and the boy under the sunlight, everyone was momentarily stunned.


    After a while, King Aweit was the first to speak, his interest piqued.


    "Xiulote, this burning saltpeter, the soil¡¯s... saltpeter, it resembles the Tarasco¡¯s Stone of the Dead. How is it used?"


    The young man smiled confidently.


    "The burning mixture of saltpeter and sulfur from the Stone of the Dead, along with powdered charcoal, can create a revolutionary... um... fire potion that can easily ignite ships on water. With the Tarasco campaign impending, it can help us gain an advantage on water!"


    Xiulote paused midway through his explanation. He was still unsure about the explosive power of the original gunpowder and needed time to experiment with the right formula, so he simply outlined the enhancing effects of the gunpowder.


    "A fire potion that can burn on water? Xiulote, is it really so?"


    Listening to this, King Aweit¡¯s expression became serious and his gaze intense as he looked at the young man.


    With the new year beginning, the Council of Politics had already been discussing the invasion routes after the autumn harvest. The Alliance was about to mobilize tens of thousands of Samurai and Militia to march west against Tarasco and initiate a genuine divine war.


    The failure of last year¡¯s Otomi war was still vividly remembered; the enormous army required an astonishing amount of food supplies and had to establish a stable and efficient logistics transport line. In this era, convenient water transport was the only choice.


    Unlike the Otomi, the Tarasco people had taken over the land of the fishermen of Miquechquatl. They possessed an equally formidable fleet that had always been deeply feared by the Mexica Alliance. Without securing sufficient naval superiority to suppress the enemy¡¯s attack boats, there was no hope for the water supply line.


    King Aweit¡¯s gaze grew deeper as he recalled the terrain of Miquechquatl, between the north and south rivers, with the Great Lake in the middle, the fertile core being the flat lakeside valley, and the solid outskirts being the undulating mountain hills.


    Years ago, during his first western campaign along the Balsas River, his forces had encountered the Tarasco fleet not long after setting off. The Mexica fleet and the enemy engaged repeatedly, with Samurai and Militia falling like rain, yet neither side could achieve a real advantage.


    The army was forced to abandon the waterway and land, only to attack the Tarasco¡¯s eastern line of fortresses through complex and narrow mountain terrain. It was a protracted bloodbath, with difficult logistics and treacherous terrain, recalling it was like a nightmare.


    Feeling the pressure in King Aweit¡¯s gaze, Xiulote nodded cautiously and explained earnestly.


    "Gunpowder can burn in water. Its combustion does not require air. It produces a large amount of gas and high temperatures when it burns, and the high-temperature expanding air can push away the water, providing space for continuous combustion..."


    King Aweit¡¯s look of confusion lasted only a moment. Fortunately, he was exceptionally intelligent and often chatted idly with the young man; he was vaguely able to understand.


    On the other hand, the three Samurai ministers looked at each other bewildered. Doubting yet believing, they could only attribute it to the Priest¡¯s divine arts.


    The Intelligence Officer, unnoticed, had returned to the corner. His perspective different from others, he focused his attention on each person¡¯s face. With just a brief observation, he was certain that Xiulote was confident and not lying. Then, he silently continued to watch each person¡¯s expression, guessing their psychology and memorizing their characteristics.


    After a long moment, King Aweit, slightly pleased, commanded gravely.


    "Xiulote, my student, the gunpowder you speak of is crucial for the war against Tarasco. If you truly can develop a flame that burns in water, it will be the greatest achievement of this western campaign! What do you need? The Alliance will support you fully!"


    Finally hearing this promise, Xiulote smiled slightly and bowed earnestly.


    "King, I need the Capital City¡¯s southern great salt mine until March to collect ingredients for making saltpeter. Additionally, I need a spacious research center, preferably far from the city because it involves combustion. I also have many other ideas to try and need to establish a new craftsmen center specifically for researching useful new technologies."


    "What! The great salt mine? That is..."


    Hearing the key word, Royal Family¡¯s Nnobility, Iskali, finally snapped out of his daze. He hurriedly spoke out, glaring at Xiulote.


    King Aweit¡¯s gaze swept over coldly, carrying a chilling pressure and an uncompromising authority. Iskali instantly fell silent. He bowed his head, seething inside.


    Xiulote didn¡¯t notice. The young man was mentally calculating in his mind; he had many enlightening thoughts recently in the craftsmen district, and the planned scientific research projects were indeed numerous.


    The jade craftsmen¡¯s block printing and the stonemason¡¯s glass firing needed to be experimented with urgently; the goldsmith¡¯s clay molding and the potter¡¯s porcelain were to be temporarily shelved; efforts must be focused on collecting saltpeter from saline soil, improving the craftsmanship of saltpeter production, and trying to extract from urine. Primitive gunpowder was to be developed with charcoal, sulfur, and saltpeter, and a stronger formula was to be explored.


    Right, once the first batch of copper ore from the southern part of Tarasco was delivered by Mayan merchants, they were to make copper spears and train spear-wielding soldiers. They could also use bronze plates to make simple yet effective cloth armor. Now, a reliable source of high-quality spearmen had not yet been secured, considering the thousands of miners...


    Thinking of this, Xiulote opened his mouth to speak, wanting to ask King Aweit for the gold and stone miners.


    The King just turned his head, his chilling aura not yet withdrawn. A chill went through the youth¡¯s heart, his intuition telling him that it was not the time to speak. So he calmly waited.


    King Aweit pondered for a moment, his expression calming down. Then, he smiled slightly and made a promise to the young man.


    "Xiulote, I entrust the great salt mines to you. If you lack funds or manpower, come directly to me. Should you have any new creation or invention, come report to me anytime. The eastern Prince¡¯s Mansion in Texcoco has been seized by the Royal Family and has been idle until now. The place is spacious, with many houses; I¡¯ll hand it over to you as a new crafting center. You can also use the old crafting center¡¯s site, since you often go to see Kuode..."


    Xiulote nodded in agreement, then slightly hesitated. Aweit seemed to know his whereabouts well.


    "There are two saline islands outside the southeastern embankment, unsuitable for planting Chinampas, but they can serve as your testing grounds for burning trials. I will have the boat brigade assist you. Remember, the focus of your research should be the flames burning on water; you must develop a usable weapon!""


    At this, King Aweit took two steps forward, obscuring Xiulote¡¯s figure, blocking the view of the Cabinet Ministers. He gently touched the youth¡¯s head and whispered.


    "After the autumn harvest, the western campaign will be my coronation war. Stand with me, and do not let me repeat Tizoc¡¯s mistakes!""


    Xiulote looked up in surprise, gazing into Aweit¡¯s eyes, tasting the genuine emotions of the moment.


    Their eyes met, and memories of the past surged in their minds; Aweit remembered the youth¡¯s rescue at the decisive battle, and Xiulote recalled the exuberant victory feast... They remained silent for a moment, exchanging knowing smiles, as if returning to old times.


    "Aweit, I will always stand by your side," the youth promised, in the name of his ancestors.


    King Aweit smiled warmly. When he turned around to face the crowd, he was once again the majestic King.


    The ensuing meeting was somewhat uneventful, mostly involving the administrative affairs of the Capital City, negotiations with tribes and city-states, and collecting tribute for the new year.


    The Cabinet Ministers took turns reporting on military and political matters, occasionally summoning nobles from outside. The King made decisions quickly and decisively. Aweit had become familiar with the work of a king; complex administrative affairs were handled smoothly as clouds and flowing water in his hands. Sometimes, Gillim would offer detailed suggestions and additions.


    The elder had already handed over the affairs of the Alliance; now, these were the responsibilities of the king.


    After the New Year sacrificial rites, the elder would once again retire from involvement in the operations of the Capital City, only quietly pushing forward religious reforms from behind the scenes. His body could no longer support intense labor; he was now striving to live a few more years, suppressing the entire Alliance before the king established sufficient authority.


    This year¡¯s New Year sacrificial rites were also much delayed; the priests were discussing new regulations and had prepared many changes.


    Xiulote sat by Aweit¡¯s side, quietly observing the bustling center of power. He was continually learning, considering the principles and perspectives with which people handled problems, remembering the values from the tribal era, and analyzing decision cases that convinced everyone.


    This was a whole new field. One day, the young man would also have to face the same difficulties and challenges. No one is born a king; kings must navigate a long path of growth. Fortunately, under the guidance of his elders, the doors of kingship had already opened to him. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As the sun set and the twilight filled the king¡¯s palace, the nobles in the outer palace gradually dispersed, forming groups to attend banquets. Iskali and Tepopolo also bowed to the king before leaving side by side from the council hall.


    King Aweit continued busying himself, weighing priorities. The king¡¯s power did not fall from the sky but came from each decision in state affairs.


    Xiulote watched the retreating figures of Iskali and Tepopolo together. He felt a hint of unease. After pondering for a long time, he finally identified the source of his discomfort. Then, he suddenly realized.


    "The royal nobility is the strength of the royal family, but they are not detached from the great nobility; they are closely connected! Different classes are never clearly separated but are dynamically intertwined. The great nobility are not united as one; they are divided into different wholes. Therefore, reforms targeted at the great nobility should not be overly aggressive; instead, they should strike down a batch of noble enemies, ally with a batch of partners, and neutralize a batch of onlookers."


    Having understood this, Xiulote smiled widely, ancient philosophers¡¯ words coming to his mind:


    "Governing is about how to make our enemies fewer and our friends more... Managing a large country is like cooking a small fish; unhurried and deliberate, just right.""


    From a distance, Gillim silently observed, analyzing the changes in the youth¡¯s expression. This time, he frowned slightly, silently puzzled.

 Chapter 213 - One Hundred Twenty-One: Waiting and Proposal

    The setting sun, like blood, bathed the palace district in the colors of blood and fire, just like the royal power of the Mexica.


    In the sunset, under the royal power, two Great Nobles walked in silence, step by step treading on their own shadows.


    "Butcher, what do you think?" After a long silence, the royal noble Iskali finally spoke slowly. His expression was cold and meaningful.


    "The end of the month is still early, no need to rush."


    The noble Tepopolo smiled kindly, as light as a breeze. The two were already familiar with each other, addressing each other by nicknames.


    "The line of Itzcoatl has long been assigned outside the city-states, yet there comes a day for a rise again!"


    Iskali furrowed his brows. His emotions fluctuated, his voice filled with dissatisfaction.


    "So what? After all, it¡¯s the bloodline close to the royal family. Today, it indeed appears mysteriously formidable."


    Tepopolo smiled gently and patted his old friend on the shoulder.


    "Moreover, King Aweit is a combination of both royal lines. By favoring his paternal relatives, he probably aims to balance your power."


    Iskali paused for a moment, then responded gravely.


    "But his kingship is, after all, inherited from the maternal line! You can stand outside and observe, but I stand inside!"


    "You are mistaken, my old friend," Tepopolo said with a sober expression, setting aside his smile.


    "The Mexica¡¯s kingship is never inherited from anyone! It is only inherited through mighty force and exceptional talent!"


    "That is also why I told you not to rush. The coronation war of autumn hasn¡¯t started yet. The king needs to prove himself, as do the heirs! If he is truly a great commander, why not follow him?"


    "What you should be more concerned with now are these new laws and reforms concocted by the priests! Our power is also inherited from wealth and force. However, now, the priests want to snatch it from us!"


    Iskali was startled and alarmed. He looked solemnly at Tepopolo.


    "I¡¯ve heard a bit about the new laws; they seem to just constrain ordinary nobility and are not targeting us. Besides, some nobles indeed go too far."


    Tepopolo smiled gently and shook his head.


    "That¡¯s now. But what about later? The priests are getting stricter. Once they develop, they will inevitably devour us!"


    Iskali frowned deeply. He pondered for a while but his thoughts were unclear, shrouded in fog.


    "What should we do?"


    "Wait, still wait, silently wait," Tepopolo said with a gentle smile again.


    "Behind the new law reforms are the elders. Right now, we can do nothing."


    Speaking of elders, both looked toward the magnificent Great Temple not far away. As the sun set, visions of blood-red sacrifices seemed to emerge before their eyes again. They both shuddered simultaneously, falling silent.


    A long time passed, and only after they walked past the Great Temple, moving away from the nightmarish shadow, did Iskali speak again.


    "Butcher, what are we waiting for?"


    "The end of the month, of course, is waiting for an opportunity," Tepopolo bent his eyebrows, appearing even more amiable.


    "Opportunity? Are you saying..." Iskali¡¯s eyes flashed fiercely, his face murderous.


    Tepopolo paused. He stopped walking, looked at Iskali, and sighed with a smile.


    "My foolish moon friend, you¡¯re nearly forty, nearly in the grave, yet still so full of killing intent? I really should give my name to you."


    Iskali smirked.


    "Enough, my clever butcher friend! When you followed the conqueror Montezuma I on the southern campaign, you had thousands of Zapotecs executed all at once. How about we share the same name, I as the elder of one generation, and you as the younger of the second?"


    With that, Iskali laughed heartily, quite pleased with himself.


    Tepopolo sighed helplessly again. Then, something occurred to him, and his expression turned serious.


    "Iskali, let me ask you, would you bring the Zapotecs¡¯ captives back to the Lake Capital City?"


    Iskali pondered for a moment, then shook his head decisively.


    "Too far. From the Zapotecs¡¯ city-state to the Lake Capital City takes two months. The roads are full of dense forests, with no convenient rivers, and too much food would be consumed on the way. It would be better to sacrifice them on the spot, to please the gods and the legion."


    Tepopolo nodded, smiling, a gleam in his eye.


    "Exactly, Iskali. This is about distance and time. Look, even the great Montezuma couldn¡¯t completely conquer the far southern states. The local vassals would bow when the army arrived but often refused tribute as soon as the legion left, autonomously deciding everything on their lands."


    "Next, if the King¡¯s conquest fails, the awaited opportunity will arise! The nobility will reconsider the future, and the priests¡¯ reforms will equally be hard to continue. If the heir is not competent enough, it will be time for your Huitzil¨ªhuitl lineage to exert its power!"


    Itzcoatl pondered deeply. His thoughts churned as he tested his old friend¡¯s intentions.


    "So, are you saying that in this Western expedition, we do not truly exert ourselves?"


    "No, we must put forth all effort in the Western expedition! As the Cabinet Minister, you must fully support the King until he fails, earning the King¡¯s trust. King Aweit monitors everyone closely, and Gillim is his eyes. If the King can indeed lead us to conquer Tarasco, opportunities will still present themselves!" S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tepopolo smiled enigmatically. Amidst Itzcoatl¡¯s puzzled gaze, he spoke slowly and profoundly.


    "At that time, we will voluntarily ask for an external appointment. With our vassal samurais, we will go to the distant Patzcuaro Lake region to guard the frontier for the Alliance. That is true autonomy, just like the military city-states in the northeastern front of Tlaxcala, yet without facing formidable enemies!"


    Upon hearing this, Itzcoatl finally showed signs of shock.


    "Tepopolo, you are leaving the hereditary Tlatelolco?!"


    Tepopolo nodded solemnly in confirmation.


    "Tlatelolco has already been merged into the Lake Capital City. Princes are either dead or in hiding, so I have become the highest-ranking noble of honor. It¡¯s the general trend¡ª the entire Texcoco Lake District will become territories directly under the King, and the priests will expand their powers in the reforms. If I stay here, my end will eventually be dire. It¡¯s better to request an external vassalage, to step out of this cage, and observe the King and priests at the center."


    Having said this, Tepopolo¡¯s words carried significant implications.


    "What the future holds is still uncertain. For now, we just need to wait."


    Itzcoatl furrowed his brows deeply. His visions seemed clearer, yet the future remained murky, like the shifting tequila. Despite being an outstanding samurai, his wisdom and vision still severely limited him. After a long moment, he hesitantly spoke.


    "Will the elders and the King allow the voluntary request for an external assignment?"


    Tepopolo smiled confidently, warm yet forceful.


    "Of course. Changing our fief is definitely a plan of the elders and the King. The elders have always detained thousands of lower nobility and samurais from Texcoco, honing their temperament and sending priests to teach them day and night, surely waiting for the fall of Xilotepec City.


    At that time, they will wash away the Otomi upper class and transfer everyone to the new fief. The Alliance will then firmly secure this northern riverside stronghold and eliminate any hidden threats to the capital. In Otomi territory, these relocated nobles will have no choice but to gravitate towards the Alliance.


    And the core of Western Tarasco is the Patzcuaro Lake region, which is at a month or two¡¯s journey just like the capital, impossible to be directly managed by the Royal Family. Since it is a divine war for conquest, a high-ranking vassal king must guard and govern the newly conquered lands! Who else but us is more suitable for this position?"


    Thinking thus, Tepopolo was once again vibrant with spirit. His thoughts drifted far, as his concealed ambition flared up from within. The Patzcuaro Lake region is also a foundation of the king, how could the Mexica have only one king?


    Itzcoatl bowed his head in silence. As an elder of the Royal Family, not having endured pressure that the Royal Family inflicted on the Great Nobility, he was not really interested in a distant external assignment. However, his old friend¡¯s words made sense, and he began to grasp the elders¡¯ and King¡¯s intentions.


    Thus, Iskali¡¯s expression turned cold and stern again, and a fierce light flickered in his eyes.


    "Butcher, you are right. In this battle of the gods, the great nobility and priests of Tarasco can leave none behind. Tarasco¡¯s weeds must be cleared, to plant the corn of the Mexica!"


    "The great nobility must be rooted out! And the priests of Tarasco... ah, them as well."


    Tepopolo gave an approving response, pausing briefly in his words before casually continuing with a nod.


    The conversation continued, the mood shifting. The two, with their backs against the blood-red sunset, walked steadily in the shadows, silently waiting. Around them were the elite private samurais, loyal guards.


    Inside the great hall, Xiulote sat quietly for a long while after the outsiders had left. He then sat cross-legged next to Aweit, closely watching his friend the king work, recording words and dealing with wooden panels of drawings. From time to time, the young man asked about governmental affairs and offered innovative suggestions.


    During the idle chatter of work, Aweit also carried a bit of a smile. He returned from his divinity, his expression relaxing, occasionally patting the young man¡¯s head, mentioning his beloved daughter a few times. Gillim sat quietly in the shadow of the throne, silently observing, occasionally adding some details.


    Busy times always passed quickly. When Aweit finally looked up, the sun had sunk into the earth, and it was pitch black outside the window. Distant moonlight spilled in from the window, illuminating the bonfire in the great hall, bringing a peaceful warmth. Thus, he smiled gently at the young man.


    "Xiulote, let¡¯s stop here for today. Come early for the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rites next week. Alisa misses you a bit, and I don¡¯t have time to be with her on ordinary days.


    After the elders and I have finished patrolling the city, take Alisa boating on the lake, then head to the royal gardens at noon to relax, and see the flowers and butterflies. When it¡¯s less crowded in the evening, go to the zoo and the water lake, play with the deer and patterned fish, and at night go to the priest¡¯s high platform to watch the moon and the stars... I¡¯ll have snacks, light food, and drinks prepared, but no alcohol..."


    Listening to Aweit¡¯s detailed arrangements and concrete plans, Xiulote wiped the beads of sweat that slightly formed on his forehead. He felt a great deal of pressure. Feeling Aweit¡¯s genuine emotions, the young man felt warmth in his heart, quietly listening with a slight joy.


    Soon, after Aweit had given his instructions, the two men silently looked at each other, an atmosphere they hadn¡¯t experienced in a long while.


    "Okay. Aweit, I¡¯ll take Aviloztli with me to find Alisa. The little golden eagle has grown quite a bit and has changed into new gray feathers, yet they are still very soft to the touch. It¡¯s always been timid, it can accompany Alisa for a long time."


    Xiulote responded with a sincere smile. Aweit was slightly stunned for a moment, remembering the trained little golden eagle, and couldn¡¯t help but smile softly.


    The two smiled again for a while. Then the young man seriously looked at his friend and made a long-delayed suggestion.


    "Aweit, during the battle at the Lerma River, I was thinking of forming a well-trained spear militia as a supplement to the samurais, to hold the front line,"


    "Now, we have enough copper mines to make copper spears. I visited the surrounding mines recently and found many excellent miners... Can you allocate thousands of miners to me, so that I can form a new army? They should be useful during the western campaign against Tarasco."


    Xiulote spoke frankly about his proposal to form a new army, looking at Aweit with anticipation and sincerity.


    Upon hearing this, King Aweit looked at the young man beside him. His smile gradually solidified, and another kind of thought gradually arose, the merciless divinity surging once again.

 Chapter 214 - 122: Spear Phalanx and Preliminary Discussions on Military Reform

    Light had given way, and nightfall descended silently. The flickering campfire in the great hall cast shadows on the king¡¯s face, outlining the stiff lines as if sculpting a cooling statue.


    Xiulote looked at his friend with anticipation, yet he could feel the king¡¯s gaze growing deeper and the distance between them starting to stretch.


    The youth felt a sense of urgency in his heart and didn¡¯t wait any longer. Subconsciously, he reached out his hand, hesitated for just a moment, and then gently pulled at Aweit¡¯s sleeve. Then, looking into his eyes, he sincerely and firmly made his promise again.


    "Aweit, believe me. I will always stand with you, just like in the past," he said.


    Upon hearing these words, Aweit¡¯s gaze flickered slightly. His thoughts landed back on earth as divine contemplation was interrupted by the surge of emotions. He lowered his eyes, pondered for a moment, then stood up from his seat, turned, and walked to the window, gazing into the profound night sky while the darkness enveloped his face.


    Xiulote also stood up and walked behind his friend. The two stood one before the other, separated by a single step¡¯s distance, quietly and silently watching the night sky and the Milky Way.


    In the corner, Gillim observed everything in silence. His expression was extremely serious, eyebrows slightly furrowed, lost in thought.


    After a long while, feeling somewhat disheartened, the young man spoke again.


    "Aweit, forming a militia of long spears can increase the Alliance¡¯s military power. I am just making a suggestion; the commander of the troops can be appointed to someone else..."


    Only then did Aweit turn around. He looked at the youth who was now close at hand and let out a soft sigh. Unconsciously, the young man had grown a good deal taller, almost reaching his shoulder.


    "How many men do you need? What exactly is your plan?" came his calm voice, as gentle as ever.


    Xiulote blinked, and quickly, his face lit up with joy as he responded earnestly and in detail, his voice rising with excitement.


    "I plan to form a group of eight thousand. I have just surveyed the mining camps, and we can probably draw out about three thousand gold and silver miners, whose obedience and discipline are the best; over two thousand salt workers, who are fierce and cooperative; and more than eight hundred stone workers, who are steady and immensely strong. With six thousand miners as the base and another one thousand citizen warriors as the backbone, the entire battle group can be driven forward. Finally, the ranks will be filled with a thousand selected village militia. After a few months of military training, these eight thousand will form a complete and powerful Xiquipilli battle group."


    At this point, Xiulote paused to ponder.


    In his mind, he first envisioned the Macedonian phalanx with small shields, extra-long spears, and tightly packed 16 by 16 formations. But given the actual circumstances, he shook his head. Without the threat of cavalry, the spears did not need to be five or six meters long. It would also be difficult for a military force trained in just a few months to maintain such tight discipline.


    Then, he remembered the early formations of heavy infantry from Ancient Greece, with large shields, spears three meters long, and bronze breastplates. He recalled that bronze helmets were of little significance among heavy infantry, often purely decorative, with the main defense provided by large shields. This kind of early formation was somewhat loose, less demanding of formation integrity, and easier to train. Furthermore, breastplates could be reduced in size considering they were going to face early bronze weapons.


    Xiulote considered the Alliance¡¯s military equipment and continued with his description.


    "This battle group will be equipped with thickened cotton caps, half-body cotton armor, large shields bound on their arms, and three-meter-long spears. Miners and militiamen only need to learn to maintain tight formation, striking in alternate succession by squad. Warriors will stand on the outside, bearing war clubs. Should the spear formation break, close-combat warriors will be needed to hold off any breakthrough." S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The role of the long spear battle group is to uphold the battle line, to be the anvil at the front, withstanding the enemy¡¯s forces, requiring effective cooperation from other units."


    Aweit pondered this. He recalled the long spear militia of the Tarasco people, their dense two-and-a-half-meter copper spears, and the tight formations that were notably enduring, different from ordinary militia. If they increased the thickness of the formation, lengthened the spears, and added armored shields, they could indeed withstand elite warriors¡¯ onslaught for a considerable time.


    "If there is an anvil, there must also be a hammer. The long spear formation is not flexible, and it tends to become disjointed when moved. Therefore, it should be used mainly for defense, like a curled up porcupine, weaker in offense. Its flanks and rear are also vulnerable... How do you plan to arrange tactical cooperation?"


    As a commander-in-chief seasoned in many battles and having seen similar armies, Aweit quickly pinpointed the crux of the strategy.


    Xiulote nodded in agreement, softly commending. Seizing the opportunity, he elaborated on his ideas for the Mexica military reform.


    "Exactly! The long spear formation will not be used on rugged terrain but rather in the vast battles of the Lake Region, serving as the center of the army formation. This position was originally held by elite warrior bands of Great Nobility or experienced warriors, who can now be used for attacks on either flank."


    "The flanks of the army formation will be fast-moving warrior bands, protecting the sides of the long spear formation and acting as the hammer for the assault. Once the enemy warriors and the spear formation are entangled, warriors from the sides will charge, coordinating the anvil and hammer to scatter the enemies. All close-combat warriors should carry two obsidian javelins, to shoot at close range before the charge. The purpose of the javelins is not to inflict casualties but to disrupt the enemy¡¯s formation, rendering their shields useless."


    Behind the military formations were the Longbow Warrior platoons for long-range attacks. They were best suited to occupy high ground and form up. With dense volleys of arrows, they should focus on striking the enemy¡¯s warrior platoons, effectively inflicting damage.


    In front of the military formations, on the outer periphery of the formed-up battalions, swift light javelin militiamen needed to be deployed. Armed with over a dozen javelins each, they were used to harass the enemy¡¯s elite warrior platoons and to pursue scattered foes.


    If there were surplus longbows, I would also like to form a light bow and arrow militia primarily composed of tribal and village hunters. Similarly positioned on the outskirts of the military formations, they would move rapidly across the battlefield, seeking appropriate shooting positions.


    The longbow militia would further enhance the ability for long-range harassment, continuously sniping at the enemy¡¯s commanders and warriors, striking at their morale. If positioned well, the damage could be very astonishing...


    Xiulote described his vision of the future Mexica military reforms with serious contemplation, a plan that had long been forming in his mind.


    Forming spear phalanxes as the mainstay of the battle line, deploying more warriors for battlefield assaults. Creating elite light infantry to replace the tactical role of cavalry, swiftly chasing down fleeing enemies, and expanding the advantage on the battlefield. Additionally, maximizing long-range striking power and leveraging the capabilities of the militia.


    The longbow militia would not need close-combat abilities, nor a need to capture prisoners. These skilled village and tribal hunters could kill to the utmost. This was the second new army upon which the young man pinned his hopes.


    The military reforms would focus on enhancing the role of civilian warriors, liberating them from being considered mere battlefield expendables. On one hand, establishing civilian formations and on the other, exploiting their speed and long-distance advantages. Once the power of the civilians was proven in war, their political status would swiftly rise to gain rightful influence. And thus, a rising civilian class could then provide a foundation for the next set of reforms.


    Xiulote¡¯s thoughts soared far away, into the vast heavens and earth beneath the stars, envisioning the grand future of warfare.


    Aweit, meanwhile, pondered deeply, constructing in his mind the battlefields as described by the young man. After a while, he exhaled a long breath and nodded appreciatively.


    "Xiulote, your ideas are good. Spear phalanxes to hold the line, longbowmen to deal damage, warriors for flanking assaults, light infantry responsible for harassing pursuits. Militarily speaking, such a new formation would further expand the Alliance¡¯s armed forces."


    At this point, Aweit paused and placed a hand on Xiulote¡¯s shoulder, looking seriously into the young man¡¯s eyes.


    "However, the foundation of the Mexica Alliance is the warriors. Not only are they critical military forces, but they are also the political core of the nation¡¯s society, especially the Nobility warriors. For millenniums, militiamen have been insignificant auxiliaries. The era of copper spears and longbows will gradually change all this, but it will take time.


    Therefore, Xiulote, my student, keep your grand designs to yourself for now, and don¡¯t mention them to others. I will give you six thousand miners; first, form the Spear Militia and see what their combat effectiveness is truly like.


    Meanwhile, I permit you to recruit two thousand tribal hunters, assigning you all the Tlaxcalan Bows seized over the years by the Alliance, to explore the tactics of harassment. Both these forces will be under your command."


    Aweit paused again for a moment, searching for something on the young man¡¯s innocent and joyful face. After a while, he nodded gently and smiled warmly.


    "To the south of the Tarasco people lies the Balsas River, and to the north, the Lerma River. If water supply lines could be established, they would be able to maintain large campaigning armies. I intend to divide our forces into two routes for the autumn campaign. The main force will still attack from the closer south, while a detached force will make a longer flank from the north.


    These days, the Cabinet Ministers and Great Nobility incessantly argue, each hoping to lead the detached force. But I don¡¯t trust them!


    My student, if you can train eight thousand strong Spear Militiamen, two to three thousand Longbow Warriors and Militia, plus the four thousand City-State Warriors of the Holy City, you¡¯ll have enough strength to take command of the Northern Route Army. Combined with your experience fighting the Lerma River and the Tarasco people, the Great Nobility will not be able to object.


    So, come autumn, I will let you lead the Northern Army alone, striding along the Lerma River to strike deeply into the heart of Tarasco territory, delivering a fatal blow. Xiulote, remember, I believe in you! Don¡¯t let me down!"


    Hearing Aweit¡¯s authoritative charge and feeling the warmth of the King¡¯s difficult trust, the young man¡¯s heart surged with emotion. He stepped forward impulsively, embracing Aweit tightly.


    "Aweit, I won¡¯t let you down! I will stand with you always, I swear it on the names of our ancestors!"


    The young man¡¯s face was filled with emotion as he expressed his feelings, sincerely showing his sentiment.


    Aweit nodded with a smile, returning the youngster¡¯s embrace with equal fervor. Then, he slowly closed his eyes. The swirling emotions and deep, inscrutable gaze were simultaneously concealed, disappearing beneath the visage of the King.


    Great leaders, thunder in their hearts, calm as serene lakes. The path of a Monarch, destined to be unpredictable and lonely.

 Chapter 215 - 123: Advice and Planning

    Darkness fell, and the night deepened.


    Having received Aweit¡¯s promise and support, Xiulote was greatly encouraged. He solemnly knelt to receive his orders, paid his respects, and bid farewell to the King and his friends. Then, he summoned the long-awaited Head Warrior. Bertade picked up the simple clay pot, and the group hurriedly departed for the High Priest¡¯s Mansion.


    Aweit smiled as he watched the young man leave. His gaze extended to the horizon, then rose into the night sky, skimming the bland stars to pause on the rising bright moon. It was now mid-January, and the full moon shone like a crystal plate, its dazzling light purity personified.


    "Myths have perished, religious reform. Will the moon still threaten the sun?"


    Aweit watched for a long time but received no answer. Then, the King calmly turned and slowly sat back on the cold throne. Once again, he reached out to grip the hard Divine Staff and fell into deep thought. In the flickering firelight, the Yellow Gemstone¡¯s light sparkled, at times pure, at times profound.


    At some point, Gillim silently emerged from the shadows and solemnly prostrated himself. The King¡¯s gaze then followed suit.


    "Your Majesty, do you really intend to let His Highness command the Northern Route Army?"


    The Intelligence Officer raised his head, looking towards the King, his expression extremely solemn.


    Aweit calmly nodded his head, without hesitation or words. He was still pondering something.


    Gillim reflected for a moment and prostrated himself again.


    "Your Majesty, forgive my foolishness, I could not comprehend your intentions. Please instruct me clearly."


    The loyalty of the Intelligence Officer held Aweit¡¯s gaze once more, wordless, silently waiting.


    Gillim gritted his teeth and prostrated himself again. This time, his forehead pressed closely to the cold ground, emitting a chilly sound.


    "The entire line of High Priests joining the Northern Route Army could completely eliminate... through the hands of the Tarasco... the Great Nobility in the Holy City have been secretly contacting... but the disposal of the High Priest still needs to be reported to the elders beforehand."


    The Intelligence Officer had only spoken a few fragments and was already sweating profusely. He did not care who the target was, but he was unsure of the King¡¯s intentions.


    Upon hearing this, an abyss flashed through Aweit¡¯s heart. He hesitated for a moment, then sternly rebuked.


    "I have no such intention. Gillim, you should not do this!"


    The Intelligence Officer immediately prostrated in apology, lying face down in silence. After a while, he raised his head again, cautiously speaking.


    "Religious reform, military reform, suppression of the nobility, these are all grievances... and all proposed by His Highness... Perhaps letting the nobility know... to create public debates and eliminate them publicly..."


    Shadows flashed again in the King¡¯s heart. He remained silent for a moment but then shook his head.


    "The religious reforms have just begun and are already undertaken by the elders. The military reforms have not yet begun, and secrecy is now imperative. Both are major undertakings that should not be damaged by personal feelings... I still plan to transfer power to him and must protect... Gillim, no more words."


    Gillim had to prostrate himself once more, his sweat falling to the ground. After a long pause, the Intelligence Officer spoke firmly again.


    "Your Majesty, His Highness has been out of prison for a month, busy every day, never resting.


    First, he consoled the families of the fallen Samurai, rallying the troops. Then, at the Priestly Temple, he preached and was praised by ¡¯Divine Revelators.¡¯ Later, he investigated agriculture with me, studied the large and small nobility, estimated land and military strength, showing great foresight. He also proposed commercial law reforms, controlling strategic materials and suppressing merchants, with the Priesthood unanimously agreeing.


    Then, he met privately with Maya merchants, executed the major Tarasco businessmen, sent people downstream along the river to gather copper mines. He surveyed the artisan district¡¯s industries, calling upon experienced jade craftsmen and stone workers, seeming to have a deeper purpose. These past few days, he has inspected various mines, subdued salt workers, controlled large salt mines, created unusual Divine Objects. Today, he even asked you for miners, intending military reform, and forming two new armies..."


    Gillim had already dispatched people to surveil day and night. Now, listing these one by one, even though he was experienced and steadfast, he remained shocked and apprehensive.


    "Priests, nobility, Samurai, craftsmen, merchants, miners, Militia.... His Highness keeps all layers of the Alliance in his heart, carefully weighing and measuring.


    He practices Martial Arts daily, honing his will. He dislikes extravagant clothes, does not play with beads and gems, despises beautiful colors, does not enjoy feasts. He maintains a simple lifestyle, bears the world in his heart, constantly self-motivates, as if racing with fierce tigers...


    For thirty years, I have never seen a young man with such a nature. Even if he has innate wisdom, his will is extraordinary, almost godlike. What exactly is His Highness planning? If this is his conduct over one month, what will happen after one year?"


    The Intelligence Officer¡¯s words, each true, struck Aweit¡¯s heart like sharp arrows. The King closed his eyes again. This time, he remained silent for a long time before speaking with difficulty.


    "I believe in him."


    Gillim forcefully prostrated, making a clearly audible thud on the ground, and called out lowly and earnestly.


    "Your Majesty! How can the great matters of the state be entrusted to the word ¡¯believe¡¯?! His Highness¡¯s grandfather was the High Priest, his father the Lord of a City-State, commanding hundreds of following Samurai, soon to train new troops. He is competent in both civil and military skills, lives simply, is inventive and wise, his reputation spreading far. He is also of the Royal Family bloodline, heir to the Alliance, and close to your most beloved princess..."


    At this, the King abruptly opened his eyes and shouted angrily.


    "Stop!"


    Yet Gillim, for the first time, defied the Royal Decree. He risked everything and continued to advise. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Even the elders, when assisting his brother Montezuma I, resigned from the Marshal position, not holding military power. You once said a great ruler must have no weaknesses! But now, your feelings have become a weakness."

 Chapter 216 - 123: Advice and Planning_2

    "The maintenance of a state lies in the balance of power, how can it solely rely on trust? Can you trust His Highness, can you trust the High Priest? Everything is changing, even if it¡¯s like this now, what about later?"


    Having said that, Gillim bowed deeply again, blood already seeping from his forehead.


    Aweit¡¯s breathing became rapidly uneven. He opened his eyes and looked at the Intelligence Officer, whose face was covered in blood, a struggle apparent in his gaze. Then, the King gripped the Divine Staff in his hand and slowly closed his eyes.


    "Leave! Go and punish yourself, sacrifice your blood."


    Gillim nodded silently, accepting the command with a bow.


    He ignored the blood on his face and took out a pair of hardened agave spines. Following the austere rituals of a Priest, he unhesitatingly pierced both his ears, allowing the bright red to drip down. Then, he took out two small, sharp cones and inserted one into each shoulder socket, sinking nearly an inch into the flesh amidst intense pain.


    Then, suppressing the ongoing agony, Gillim breathed heavily and with great difficulty through his nose. With sheer willpower, he slowly stood up, staggering as he retreated from the grand hall, leaving behind a long and bloody trail.


    A moment passed before the King opened his eyes again. The hall was empty, leaving only the solitary King. He was lost in thought as he watched the blood trail stretching on the ground, as if traversing a long journey of the heart. The faces of a boy and a girl flashed by, representing his last frailties and tenderness.


    After a long while, Aweit sighed deeply.


    "My child, don¡¯t push me. Let me think if there¡¯s a way to satisfy both sides."


    The bonfire gradually dwindled, and darkness began to seep in. Eventually, as the warmth ran out and the light faded, the King¡¯s true face disappeared into the biting cold of darkness, never to be found again.


    Stepping on the Starlight, Xiulote joyously returned to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion.


    In the main hall, torches burned warmly, illuminating everything. The grandfather sat alone at the stone table, looking at the paper documents in his hand. He had already received the message and had been patiently waiting for a long time. Seeing the young man return, the elder finally breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled kindly and gestured for the boy to sit beside him.


    Xiulote then described what he had seen in the past few days, the artisans and miners, the mining fields and the saltpeter, and his conversation with the King that day.


    "What!" the High Priest exclaimed, standing up abruptly, staring intently at the young man.


    "You asked the King to organize a new army? The King highly agreed, granting you a quota of ten thousand men, and even promising you the position of Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Route Army?!" sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote looked at his grandfather¡¯s unusually serious expression, slightly taken aback.


    "Aweit was very hesitant at first, appearing somewhat suspicious. I sincerely convinced him. Then he chose to trust me and placed great hope in me."


    The young man reported truthfully. He, too, trusted his friend and was delighted by Aweit¡¯s support.


    The High Priest turned his back, pacing back and forth anxiously. The old man stared at the changing gods on the frescoes, muttering to himself non-stop.


    "Too hasty, too hasty! It¡¯s not yet the time, it should wait many years... The family hasn¡¯t laid down roots yet... I haven¡¯t fully controlled the Priesthood... Elders are still around... You are also too young... Not even married yet..."


    A moment later, the grandfather sighed deeply. He smiled ruefully at his most beloved grandson.


    "My child, didn¡¯t I ask you to relax and take a tour around the capital city and its surroundings? Why are you embarking on serious work again, staying busy all night long without returning? Then, without consulting with me, you rashly asked the king to form what, a new army?"


    Xiulote bowed slightly. He understood his grandfather¡¯s concerns, yet he still insisted.


    "This western expedition is a crucial battle, affecting not only reforms but also involves the metal ores to the west. We must prepare thoroughly and gather the greatest strength; we cannot afford to fail! The king believes in me, and I believe in him; we will stand together, striving with all our might for the future of the Mexica people!"


    Thinking of Tarasco¡¯s copper mines, and even further west, Colima¡¯s iron mines, Xiulote saw these as the future of the era. The western expedition against Tarasco could not afford any losses! Realizing this, the young man no longer hesitated nor regretted his decisions. He resolved to participate personally in the western campaign, to mobilize all forces and seize the opportunity to change history!


    Looking at the resolute face of the young man, the High Priest sighed again, his frustration tinged with admiration.


    "My child, you are too hasty! Power is always sensitive, and the seeds of doubt sprout and grow. What the king chooses to believe today, he may remember with suspicion tomorrow.


    Xiulote, at your age, peers are learning through travel, reciting poems, socializing over banquets. Many young nobles even traverse the pleasures of love indiscriminately and enjoy life to the fullest, pursuing happiness... Child, I¡¯m not urging you to indulge, but you are stretching yourself too thin. Life is but a few decades; why torture yourself like this?


    Just follow the proper steps, and I will pave the way for you. Silent is the gentle rain that nourishes all; the young eagle must wait to soar as it grows. It always takes years for the cactus to root in every corner, to permeate the hearts of the nobility and samurai, and gradually take hold of the samurai¡¯s military power, then everything will naturally fall into place.


    My child, you are different from me; you have time to wait!


    After five years, you will be fully fledged, your foundations firm; after ten years, you will have joined in marriage, integrating the Royal Family; another fifteen years, and the mighty eagle will age, the sinking sun sets the scene, and the great course will be set... In the meantime, just achieve a few victories, wait for the elders to step down, then succeed me as High Priest...


    Then, you will be the most dazzling sun for the people of Mexica, high above all priests and nobility, looking down upon all living beings! That is the path I¡¯ve designed for you!"


    The High Priest finally opened his heart and explained his strategems. He advised the young man, speaking of the safest path, laid out through time.


    Xiulote remained silent, his emotions in turmoil. The long river of history flowed through his mind, memories surging. He thought of Oda Nobunaga, who emerged a century later, the enduring Tokugawa Ieyasu, and then recalled the Spaniards thirty years later, the burning flames and disease, and finally sighed lightly.


    "Grandfather, ¡¯life is but fifty years; I contend within each moment!¡¯"


    The youth¡¯s expression was calm, his gaze fixed on his grandfather unflinchingly.


    The High Priest stared back at the grandchild he had raised since infancy. He suddenly realized that the young man had grown up, nearly as tall as himself now. Looking at that determined face was like seeing his most outstanding eldest son.


    After a long while, the High Priest finally sighed with emotion and relief, smiling. This time, he patted the young man¡¯s shoulder, nodding slowly.


    "My child, leave it to me. Let me think about how to secure your future!"


    The bonfire blazed brightly, illuminating the hall even more. The light chased away all darkness, shining on the old man and the young man. The warmth came with the light, pervading silently, inspiring hope.

 Chapter 217 - 124 Accidental Encounter

    In the following days, Xiulote was still in a hurry. He darted around the outskirts of the Lake Capital City like a breeze skimming the surface of Lake Texcoco, pursuing the light that tore through time and space.


    To the southeast of the dike outside the Lake Capital City, there were two fairly large islands: one named Zakatramanko, the other Yitakata. The names of the islands roughly related to "Saltwater," "Saline Land," "Reed Thickets," which also reflected the desolate appearance of the area.


    These islands, situated in the Saltwater Lake, bore no potential for transformation into Chinampa and thus remained uninhabited. Only waterbirds made their nests there, and occasionally merchants would anchor. Now, Aweit had granted both small islands to Xiulote for use as experimental fields for gunpowder research.


    The young man arrived in the morning with dozens of Guard Warriors by boat. He set foot on the northern island and looked around. The island was about an hour or two away from the Capital City, secluded and deserted. Looking north, the Great Temple in the center of the Capital City stood tall and majestic, Chinampas miles away were lush and verdant, and on the lake, the constant flow of merchant fleets painted a picture of flourishing civilization. Southward, another island of his own was not far off.


    Xiulote quietly observed for a while before continuing to assess the two islands. Each of the islands spanned several hundred hectares. The northern one, smaller and nearer, he named Tianhuo One, dedicated to storing saltpeter, extracting saltpeter from the soil, and attempting gunpowder formulas. The southern island, broader and more distant, was named Tianhuo Two for testing future firearms and was left idle for the time being.


    The young man then explored the terrain of the islands with the Guard Warriors. Parts of the lower edges might be submerged during the flood season, necessitating the construction of mounds at the center to elevate the ground and high platforms, which would host the research facilities. Dry warehouses were also to be built to store the extracted saltpeter and mixed gunpowder.


    While inspecting, Bertade¡¯s expression suddenly changed, and he stepped forward to protect Xiulote. The Head Warrior pointed to something with his thumb, then silently drew his Longbow, fitting it with Armor-Piercing Copper Arrows.


    Xiulote looked carefully into the distance, a stern expression on his face¡ªacross two or three hundred meters, a small portion of a boat peeked out from the reeds. He too took out his shield and War Club, ready for battle. Behind him, the well-trained Guard Warriors¡ªhalf with bows aimed, half with clubs and shields¡ªgradually fanned out into a circular formation, protecting their lord in their midst.


    The Guard Warriors cautiously advanced to about a hundred paces, the optimal shooting distance. Bertade then signaled for his men to stop. He switched to a whistle arrow, aimed slightly, and with swift release, the sharp whistling sound came immediately. The tip of the whistle arrow was fitted with a bone whistle, and it had a blunt head to avoid causing accidental injuries.


    Rustling sounds came from the reed thickets. The Guard Warriors readied their Copper Arrows, prepared to engage at a moment¡¯s notice if the figures turned out to be unidentified warriors. Bertade drew his bow and waited; after a while, the noise in the reeds faded. With a slight frown, he shouted towards the reeds.


    "Who¡¯s in the reeds? Come out! If you don¡¯t show yourself, we will shoot!"


    The reeds rustled again, but the people inside still did not emerge. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Without waiting further, Bertade assumed a solemn expression and waved his left hand forward. Over twenty Armor-Piercing Copper Arrows flew out, piercing the air, to nail themselves around the wooden boat in the reeds. Several cries of surprise sounded, followed by frantic and frightened replies.


    "Stop, stop! We are not enemies, we are the diligent and loyal citizens of the Capital City!"


    The Head Warrior frowned again, looking at Xiulote who, after a moment¡¯s thought, nodded slightly. It indeed seemed they were not enemies.


    "Come out from the reeds, all of you!" Bertade ordered once again, raising his voice.


    After a moment, five or six trembling figures emerged from the reeds. The Guard Warriors immediately aimed their Longbows at their vital points.


    Xiulote first looked at their hands; they were empty, save for Short Daggers at their waists. Then, the young man took in their attire. None wore armor, only long robes and cloaks that concealed their figures; both garments were of unobtrusive colors and simple patterns. At a glance, they resembled the common citizen¡¯s attire, but upon closer inspection, they were made of fine fabric. Some had Conical Hats with wide brims partially covering their faces.


    The youngster was somewhat puzzled; this appearance... It always gave him a mysteriously familiar feeling.


    After observing for a while, Bertade determined this was only a group of suspicious civilians. He scanned the reed thickets once more, now silent. Then, the Head Warrior gestured, and a surge of Leather Armor-clad warriors tackled the suspects. They removed the Conical Hats, stripped away the capacious cloaks and long robes, confiscated the Daggers from their waists, and after a thorough search, nodded to the Head Warrior.


    Bertade nodded slightly, shifting the Longbow¡¯s direction. He then pointed to the dense reeds, and ten warriors entered cautiously. After a brief search, they returned, carrying several small clay pots and two dark cloth bags.


    "Your Highness, there are two small boats inside; one has over a dozen luxurious pots of Herbs and spices, and the other carries a bag of Gold Dust and several bags of salt," reported a Guard Warrior to Xiulote.


    Xiulote turned to look at the Head Warrior.


    Bertade took a marked pot, opened it, and felt around inside. A rich fragrance wafted out¡ªonly Luwei fruit. Then he opened two cloth bags: one held heavy, gleaming Gold Dust, the other grayish-white table salt.

 Chapter 218 - 124 Accidental Encounter_2

    The Head Warrior finally breathed a sigh of relief. He nodded at the youth, signaling confirmation.


    Xiulote pondered silently. The Alliance had recently enacted trade laws, imposing heavy taxes on luxury goods. Clearly, this was an illicit trade of luxury goods taking place in secret, not intending to pay taxes according to the law. On one side was a merchant with connections, while the other possessed large quantities of gold dust and salt, likely a member of the Capital City¡¯s Great Nobility with a fief.


    Xiulote stepped forward a few paces, closely observing the faces of the individuals. Two of them, upon seeing the youth¡¯s High Priest attire, changed their expressions. They instinctively bowed their heads, only to be forced to look up as the samurai gripped their chins. After scrutinizing the two individuals for a long while, the youth had no recollection of them in his mind and turned towards another.


    After looking for a moment, Xiulote let out a soft "Eh," for among them was actually an acquaintance he had seen before.


    "I remember you, you¡¯re a merchant from the Capital City market, the owner of a luxury goods store. What¡¯s your name?" S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    What the youth didn¡¯t mention was that he had personally witnessed this merchant buying honey at a low price and reselling it at a markup. In just a quarter of an hour, the profits made were three to four times the initial cost, which made a deep impression on him.


    "Ah, no, I¡¯m not... Respectable sir, you must be mistaken..."


    The merchant had not finished his words when he saw the young Priest¡¯s brow furrow slightly. Then, his hair was gripped tightly as the middle-aged samurai behind him placed a war club against his neck. A chill ran down the merchant¡¯s neck followed by a slight pricking sensation. The sharp edge had already cut through the skin, and a slow seep of crimson marked the breach.


    "Yes, I am! I am Ocatel from the Capital City market!...Sir, you remember me. I must have served you before, please spare my life!"


    Ocatel was terrified out of his wits. The sight before the frightened merchant: the High Priest in black robes, the fifty to sixty elite samurai in Leather Armor, and the several dozen powerful Longbows. He was too heartbroken to cry as the threat of the distant weapons prevented even his prepared escape plan.


    All he did was sell a few jars of Herbs to his regular customers and make a small profit discreetly. Even if it violated the recently enacted trade laws, was it necessary to mobilize so many senior Temple Guards? Judging by their equipment and numbers, this force was sufficient to attack an ordinary Noble¡¯s manor!


    With this thought, the merchant finally let the tears of grievance flow.


    Xiulote looked at the merchant with an expressionless face. He first raised his hand, and the middle-aged samurai threatening the merchant stopped his actions. Next, he pointed towards the two who had been bowing their heads earlier, and the warriors escorted them aside. Then, the youth approached Ocatel. With a quick shove to the knees by the middle-aged samurai, the merchant knelt in pain, eliminating the need for His Highness to look up.


    Afterward, Xiulote began to interrogate Ocatel with authority. The merchant started out talking nonsense, prompting the youth to frown again. The middle-aged warrior understood and applied pressure several times, gauging it just right. Soon, amidst the great terror of life and death uncertainty, Ocatel¡¯s psychological defenses finally collapsed. He confessed the truth while sobbing.


    The trade laws had only been enacted for a few days, yet the formal trading of luxury goods in the Capital City market had significantly decreased. The local merchants were unwilling to bear the high taxes and began to conduct secret trades. Having been rooted locally for many years and maintaining long-standing cooperation with the Capital City Nobility, they were familiar with the local conditions and sentiments, so they moved the trading venues.


    With the Temple Guards now patrolling the Capital City and Priests¡¯ influence in each community being strong, the local merchants and Nobility eventually shifted their covert trading spots to hidden islands in the lakes. This island, covered with reeds as tall as a man and not far from the Capital City, was chosen by Ocatel as his exclusive spot for illicit trade.


    With the New Year Sacrificial Rites about to begin, the Nobility all had considerable demand for luxury goods. Nearly every day, Ocatel would come here to trade with different Nobles, sometimes with a member of the Great Nobility, other times with several lesser Nobles. Occasionally, he would encounter competitors; they would tacitly avoid each other while carefully guarding against possible reports.


    Today, Ocatel had brought two Escorts to trade with the servants of a member of the Capital City¡¯s Great Nobility. In the most secluded part of the reeds, they exchanged Herbs and spices for gold dust and salt produced from the fief. He also had connections to sell this salt.


    "It¡¯s said that now there are even members of the Great Nobility who specialize in mediating trades. They provide guarantees for low-taxed transactions on their own fiefs for foreign merchants who come from afar and are unknown."


    In the end, Ocatel, crying profusely, revealed a vague yet significant piece of information.


    Hearing all this, Xiulote frowned deeply, as the enforcement of trade laws was evidently not going smoothly.


    The autonomy of the Great Nobility was simply too vast. They had enough power, as well as enough greed, to defy the Alliance¡¯s trade laws. Should inspections become too stringent, luxury goods trade would largely shift into the fiefs of the Great Nobility. It would be difficult for the Alliance to intervene directly without resorting to military force.


    The force of the law of the Alliance always closely correlated with the Government¡¯s control. This was the same with various kinds of taxes; regions would withhold Tribute to different extents based on their level of autonomy, coupled with bureaucratic corruption.


    In the end, the actual revenue of the Government would balance out between local control, autonomy, and the degree of corruption. Xiulote termed this as taxation efficiency.


    In this era, most taxes in a feudal state would flow into the pockets of Nobility, Officials, and the elite, especially towards the end of a dynasty. For example, more than a hundred years later in the Ming Dynasty¡­


    Xiulote shook his head, drawing his wandering thoughts back to the present. He looked at Ocatel weeping on the ground, lost in thought.

 Chapter 219 - 124 Accidental Encounter_3

    Ocatel shuddered, knowing that it was a critical moment that would decide life or death. The Mexica society had always been harsh, and the priests had just promulgated commercial laws. If captured by the High Priest and taken back to the Capital City at this time, he would inevitably be used as an example and offered on the sacrifice altar to deter the public.


    The businessman struggled frantically, disregarding the sharp war club, and abruptly threw himself at the feet of the young priest. He clutched the priest¡¯s robe forcefully, cursing and swearing.


    "Priest, spare my life please! In the name of the Guardian God, I am willing to offer all my possessions, I am willing to swear to serve you to the death!"


    Xiulote had already made up his mind. He shook his head slightly and looked towards the middle-aged samurai.


    The middle-aged samurai nodded understandably. He bent down, grabbed Ocatel¡¯s shoulder with one hand. Then, he reached out his other hand and pinched forcefully behind the opponent¡¯s elbow. The businessman immediately felt pain and numbness in his arm, his fingers uncontrollably loosened. The middle-aged samurai then exerted a little force, directly dragging the businessman off the ground for about forty or fifty meters. Two more samurai came forward, and Ocatel was completely subdued.


    Xiulote observed the middle-aged samurai with interest. He was in his thirties, with an ordinary appearance, a weathered face, a calm yet sharp gaze. During the earlier interrogation, he had skillfully observed and applied pressure just right. The youth couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of appreciation for talent.


    "What is your name? When did you join the escort?" Xiulote gestured for the middle-aged samurai to come closer.


    The middle-aged samurai¡¯s expression remained unchanged. He walked over quickly and respectfully knelt down to salute.


    "Respected Your Highness, I am Esko, a samurai from the Holy City of Teotihuacan. I once followed Head Warrior Xiuxoke and fought alongside you against the Otomi. When the High Priest came to the Lake Capital City, a group of the Holy City¡¯s samurai were selected, and I then followed the High Priest, guarding by his side. I was later assigned to join your escort."


    Xiulote nodded slightly, an ordinary background from the Holy City; Esko had been chosen by his grandfather and sent to join his own escort, surely he could be trusted for his loyalty.


    Since coming to the Capital City, various affairs had unfolded continuously, and the young man increasingly felt a scarcity of talent, especially lacking those who could lead independently. For him now, ensuring loyalty was paramount when employing people for important tasks, with capability a secondary consideration, and origins mattered even less.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then sharply looked at the middle-aged samurai, examining him as he asked.


    "Esko, what do you think should be done with this businessman?"


    Esko thought briefly, a glint in his eyes, then respectfully responded.


    "Your Highness, Noble Law is about to be promulgated, and the situation in the Capital City is tense. Now is not the time to continue stimulating the nobles with luxury goods. As for this businessman, he can be dealt with right here."


    Xiulote first nodded in satisfaction, then slightly shook his head.


    Not long ago, his grandfather and he had talked through the night, planning much for the future. If the businessman were taken back to the Capital City, the Priesthood might trace back to a large group of nobles who violated commercial law, and he would once again become the center of the Capital City¡¯s intrigues.


    It was now time to keep a low profile, not a moment for outright opposition between the priests and nobles. As for the businessman, executing him wouldn¡¯t solve any issues.


    After pondering for a moment, Xiulote instructed Esko. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Esko, I¡¯ll give you a few warriors, and leave the rest to you. Confiscate everything from the small boat, hand out a moderate punishment. Then reassure the nobles¡¯ servants, and let them go after we are gone. As for that Ocatel, have him hand over the list of trading nobles, and let him go too. He should regularly provide us with information. Yes, you handle that."


    Upon hearing this, Esko bowed his head deeply. Suppressing the joy on his face, he respectfully prostrated. Then, with a strange smile, he walked towards a not-too-distant Ocatel.


    After handling all this, Xiulote looked at the Head Warrior, giving a slight smile.


    "Bertade, it was just a false alarm. We are at the foothills of the Capital City, and today¡¯s route was decided on the spur of the moment; there couldn¡¯t be so much danger here!"


    Bertade remained silent. He had been quietly observing everything, with most of his attention on the surrounding environment. He looked around at the dense reed beds, the deserted lake bay, and the secluded islands. After a while, the loyal Head Warrior finally spoke softly.


    "Your Highness, if anyone were to take action, this would be the best place."


    Xiulote was momentarily startled. He carefully considered the Head Warrior¡¯s words. Someone? Who would know about this place. Take action? What sort of action. The youth suddenly fell silent. After a long pause, he solemnly shook his head.


    "I trust him. You¡¯re thinking too much, why take it so far?"


    Bertade¡¯s expression remained stern. He bowed his head, bending forward in respect.


    "Your Highness, I don¡¯t trust. The High Priest doesn¡¯t trust either. Even if he is trustworthy, his entourage is not. Your safety cannot rely on trust alone."


    Hearing the Head Warrior¡¯s words, Xiulote slowly closed his eyes, feeling the tremors and changes within his heart. After a long while, he sighed deeply.


    "The most difficult thing in this world is mutual trust, the higher the colder. When many speak ill, it erodes like acid; how can it last? It¡¯s truly fearsome, truly dreadful!"


    The young man shook his head. He strode forward, looking towards the distant Capital City, his heart still firm and filled with light.

 Chapter 220 - 125 Heavenly Fire Island and Divine Revelation Place

    As January neared its end, a cold wind blew over Lake Texcoco, bringing ice-cold sharpness and solemnity.


    In recent days, on the southeast side of Lake Texcoco, two Heavenly Fire Islands had been tightly secured. Nearly a hundred Samurai were stationed on the first Heavenly Fire Island, and those wishing to land must have approval from the King and the prince. The boatmen of the Naval Forces patrolled the nearby waters, using the idle second Heavenly Fire Island as their base to inspect passing trade ships and suppress smuggling.


    Thus, this place had become a patrol army outpost that civilians would avoid. There were also rumors that the Priesthood was secretly conducting sacrificial rites to pray for power from evil spirits.


    On the southern shore of Lake Texcoco, hundreds of salt workers continuously transported saltpeter and wood ash, which were then sent to the first Heavenly Fire Island by the vessels of the Naval Forces. The salt foreman, Moreno, boarded the island along with the boats and saltpeter.


    The fierce salt foreman stood bewildered beside the newly built port. He looked around and everywhere he saw reeds as tall as a person, along with sporadic wooden and straw huts. The formidable Samurai, equipped with Leather Armor, War Clubs, and Longbows, completely blockaded the island¡¯s surroundings with their numerous dugout war canoes¡ªit really was a natural prison.


    By the lakeshore, a crocodile had just submerged, not yet having a chance to open its maw, when it was excitedly discovered by a sailor. The Samurai immediately swarmed over and used Long Spears to flip the four-meter-long great crocodile, exposing its soft underbelly. Then, with agile precision, they trapped the crocodile¡¯s jaws and struck with huge Stone Hammers in rapid succession. Within just a few seconds, the crocodile trembled, spitting blood in death, utterly powerless to resist.


    The Samurai erupted in cheers. Following that, they boisterously shouted, skinned and stripped the meat from the crocodile right by the lake, and kindled a bonfire for barbecuing. Soon, the aroma of roasting meat wafted through the air.


    Seeing this scene, smelling the grilled meat, the fierce Moreno couldn¡¯t help but swallow his saliva. He carefully concealed the expression on his face, and with a smile, sought guidance from the island¡¯s steward, a middle-aged Samurai with a weather-worn face.


    "Respected Samurai, how long are we to stay on this island? Actually, it is not far from the villages on the southern shore. We could come early every day and leave when it gets dark..."


    Esko gave Moreno a deep look, with an odd smile.


    "So you¡¯re Moreno? His Highness has specifically ordered that from now on, you and your salt workers must produce burning salt around the clock and also research more efficient processes. Every improvement must be recorded, and there will be rewards in wealth. Food will be supplied to you thrice daily, according to the standard for Samurai. Without His Highness¡¯s personal approval, no one is allowed to leave. Otherwise..."


    Esko nodded toward the barbecuing crocodile, smiling oddly again.


    Moreno felt a chill all over. He and his loyal brothers exchanged glances, their eyes brimming with tears. Staying on a deserted island making salt¡ªthis kind of life... Grand dreams burned in the heart of the salt overlord. The Gold River to the south kept calling out to him. Moreno once again revealed a fierce expression, and the salt workers began to grow rowdy.


    "Get to work! You haven¡¯t even started today¡¯s workload! Someone will come to inspect and test tonight!"


    Esko scolded harshly. With a light wave of his hand, over a dozen Samurai approached, their War Clubs slanted, surrounding dozens of salt workers.


    "This is a mission emphasized by His Highness, the most important mission, and a hard-earned opportunity!"


    Thinking this, Esko¡¯s eyes flashed fiercely across each clamorous salt worker. The education of the Samurai taught him that blood was the best way to deter the masses... Without hesitation, he drew his sharp War Club and advanced with large strides.


    Moreno, with a fierce expression, looked towards the Samurai. Then, his gaze met that of the middle-aged Samurai, and the murderous aura from battlefields faced him head-on, sending a sudden chill through his heart, and he quickly calmed down from his furious rage. The salt foreman bowed decisively, slapped his brothers beside him, and scolded loudly.


    "Get moving and work! Each and every one of you fools wants to die, don¡¯t you!"


    Immediately after, Moreno bowed to the approaching middle-aged Samurai and then turned to head toward the central straw hut on the island. The stubborn salt workers hesitated only a moment before the merciless strikes of the Samurai¡¯s clubs drove them toward the huts. There, saltpeter was piled up like mountains.


    Under Esko¡¯s management, the first Heavenly Fire Island operated with maximum efficiency. Two days later, Esko came personally, respectfully reporting the specific production situation to Xiulote.


    Xiulote nodded in approval satisfactorily but sighed slightly in his heart.


    "The day-long labor of fifty to sixty salt workers results in only twenty to thirty catties of saltpeter per day, while the consumption of brown saltpeter nearly reaches a thousand catties. The extraction process still needs to be improved..."


    Of course, the youth was unaware that the nitrate content of normal saltpeter was around 70g-140g/kg, approximately one-tenth. Yet, the craftsmen¡¯s extraction efficiency was already at about one-thirtieth to two-thirtieths. In the Middle Ages, this efficiency was actually normal. They had already implemented numerous separation processes and crystallization experiences from later ages. As the craftsmen became more adept, the efficiency of saltpeter production would further increase, perhaps even surpassing their European contemporaries of this era.


    Then, Xiulote fixed his gaze on Esko, his eyes showing appreciation, and he issued a stern order.


    "Esko, well done! I¡¯m giving you another hundred Samurai and authorizing you to press-gang civilians from the villages on the southern shore, expanding the collection of saltpeter. You must fully commit to this task for these two months! I want the daily production of saltpeter to reach a hundred catties in a month, no matter the cost!"


    Upon hearing this, Esko respectfully knelt to accept the order, his heart filled with wild joy and excitement.


    He had been promoted by His Highness just a few days ago, and already he had command over two hundred samurai, managing thousands of laborers and salt workers. After a mundane thirty-year career, faithfully following his group leader for fifteen years, he was finally stepping onto the broad path ahead. For His Highness¡¯s trust and a higher future, he was determined to spare no effort.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and then continued with his instructions. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The extracted saltpeter should be sealed in pottery jars and kept separately underground. Be sure not to come into contact with flames! Stay away from the saltpeter to prevent any accidents.


    I will send two assistant priests to you to record the specific production steps and participate in the improvement process of making saltpeter. Soon, specialized craftsmen will also be sent to produce the fire potion, and you must prepare an open work space just for them."


    Although Esko did not fully understand everything His Highness said, he respectfully nodded, committing every word to memory.


    Xiulote gave an encouraging pat on the middle-aged warrior¡¯s shoulder before waving his hand to dismiss the excited man.


    The young man let out a soft sigh. Both saltpeter and gunpowder were highly flammable chemicals that could cause severe accidents if not handled with care, leading to death or injury. By assigning the newly promoted Esko to this task, he harbored a private motive. Otherwise, for an assignment of this importance, it should have fallen to Bertade, Begire, or "Monkey" to handle.


    Speaking of "Monkey", Kuluka had already gone with the Mayan merchants Tikalo toward the mountainous city-states south of Tarasco to smuggle copper ore to local tribe leaders. If all went well, the first batch of copper ore should be brought back by the fleets in two weeks. They had another dangerous mission: to ascertain the geography and military distribution of the southern city-states, gathering intelligence for possible conquests after the autumn harvest.


    Xiulote stood up and began to pace thoughtfully.


    All the copper ore on hand was being made into bronze tools and given to the old carpenters to make longbows. The assembly of miners and the conscription of tribal civilians would probably wait until after the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rites. The production of three-meter-long bronze spears was not urgent either. For now, they could take out the two-meter copper spears seized from the people of Tarasco for the elite militia¡¯s drills, using the leather armor large shields from the armory.


    "With the support of the entire alliance, everything is much easier. I can finally settle down and focus on farming and scientific research," Xiulote thought, lifting his head with a sentiment in his heart. The noon sunlight poured into the great hall, illuminating the wooden plaque at the top of the hall. The three gilded, neat Chinese characters caught his eye, "Divine Revelation Hall".


    This mansion was originally the Texcoco Prince¡¯s Mansion, but it had been renamed "Divine Revelation Place". The name Xiulote had originally favored was "Divine Oracle Place" to cherish some distant memories.


    However, after pondering for a long time, his grandfather sternly denied this proposal. The term "Divine Oracle" was too sensitive, with strong connotations of authority, which was not suitable for the young man at the time. On the other hand, his reputation as the "Divine Revelator" had already spread among the elder priests, and establishing a new center of craftsmanship in the name of divine revelation would help him build authority more easily.


    Now, the great hall where Xiulote stood was the center of the Texcoco Prince¡¯s Mansion. The hall was decorated lavishly, spacious, and well-lit. Many areas bore traces of repairs, subtly recording the bloody battle that had taken place not long ago. The Texcoco Royal Family¡¯s murals on the four walls had been leveled, and the sacrificial altar stood empty.


    The young man was unaware that the severed head of a deity had once been worshiped here, nor did he know of the conversations and schemes between the Chief Priest and the Prince. Aspiration had withered, and the dead would not return; past events had vanished with the wind. But a new chapter was unfolding rapidly with the help of the hero!


    In Xiulote¡¯s plans, "Divine Revelation Place" would be the alliance¡¯s technology research center. Under his direct leadership, gathering the most skilled craftsmen and talent, they would undertake cutting-edge technological advancements. For this, he had specifically asked his grandfather to transfer a group of priests skilled in mathematics to join the promising "Divine Revelation Place".


    The High Priest first shook his head with a light laugh, then nodded in agreement. Shifting focus away from the sensitive areas of military, political, and religious affairs and spending time on harmless little trinkets seemed like a good way to keep a low profile.


    And so, with dignity, the High Priest allocated mandatory quotas to the various temples during the Council of Elders¡¯ meeting. After a spirited discussion, the Council threw out the lowest-ranking civilian assistant priests, letting them join the lowly craftsmen, accompanying the "Divine Revelator" in creating "toys" made of wood and clay.


    Before long, Xiulote received forty or fifty dispirited young civilian priests, interspersed with a few sons of noble priests who had defected. He paused for a moment, letting out a soft sigh. This was good; these young, low-ranking priests would be easier to command and more malleable.


    "Divine Revelation Place" was now conducting several research projects, with the quartermaster Begire appointed as the specific manager. Hundreds of professional craftsmen had been summoned to form various research groups with the priests, working on military and civilian projects specified by His Highness. They worked diligently to deduce and create the actual products from His Highness¡¯s prophetic descriptions, then carefully cataloged the materials and processes used.


    Xiulote had set high rewards to motivate the craftsmen¡¯s research enthusiasm. Each research breakthrough by the craftsmen earned them handsome rewards of gold, silver, gemstones, cotton cloth, or even land, ensuring years of worry-free living. Recorded merit would also increase their rank and treatment.


    The young man restructured the levels of craftsmanship; the "Divine Revelation Place" craftsmen were now divided into four levels: apprentice, ordinary, senior, and master, each split into higher and lower tiers, enjoying different daily treatments. Senior craftsmen were granted the status of ordinary samurai, and the rare master craftsmen were ennobled as military meritorious nobles.


    These positions were specifically requested by Xiulote from Aweit. The great nobility were slightly discontented, but since the number of master craftsmen was limited and their positions non-heritable, they begrudgingly accepted. They had more important concerns now, like the soon-to-be-implemented Noble Law.


    The low-ranking priests would accumulate meritorious deeds to elevate their priesthood. In the future, Xiulote intended to create a separate promotion system for "craftsman priests," forming an independent research department.


    Under the high rewards and strict supervision, all research was moving forward in an orderly and efficient manner. Thinking of this, Xiulote strode out of the main hall and, under the close escort of the Head Warrior, began to inspect the progress of the various craftsman workgroups.

 Chapter 221 - 126: The Development of Technology, Part One

    The weather was clear and cloudless, with a chill breeze blowing, making it a perfect day for work.


    Xiulote stepped out of the splendid main hall, and the noise and clamor came from all directions. He heard intense arguments, coordinated shouts, and the sound of tools cutting through wood. The air was filled with the scent of wood and leather.


    The young man looked around. The interior of the Texcoco Prince¡¯s Mansion had completely transformed. The beautiful gardens had been cleared out to make room for worktables and equipment; the elegant dwellings were altered to store various materials and tools; pits for drying wood and kilns for firing equipment were built in the corners; the only thing that stayed the same was the straw-covered and mud-plastered toilet, which perhaps could be used to pile saltpeter.


    Xiulote strode forward. Along the way, people bowed their heads in greeting. The young man waved his hand, signaling the craftsmen to continue. He had already informed everyone to prioritize their work over formal greetings. At this moment, the Divine Revelation Place was a hive of activity, with craftsmen bustling back and forth, dripping with sweat, and samurai in full gear, alert and vigilant¡ªall systems running efficiently.


    The central hub of the Divine Revelation Place was the grand hall where he worked. Other areas were divided into north and south sections: the inner layer to the north dedicated to military technology research and the outer layer to the south for the improvement of civilian technology.


    It wasn¡¯t long before Xiulote arrived at the northeastern weapons research area. A master carpenter dressed in a simple robe was busily engaged in his work.


    He was operating a greatbow with limbs, placing a short, stubby, two-feathered arrow onto the arrow track at the center of the limbs. Then he forcefully pulled back the bowstring, securing it in the notch behind the limbs, before leveling the bow and aiming at a human-shaped straw target thirty steps away. With a press of the trigger below the limbs, there was a "buzz," and the short, stubby arrow flew in a slightly wobbling trajectory, piercing the left shoulder of the human-shaped straw target, burying nearly halfway in.


    Xiulote watched the master carpenter¡¯s operation and nodded slightly.


    "Kushinji, well done! You truly live up to your family¡¯s reputation as craftsmen passed down in the name of carpentry."


    Only when he heard the voice from not too far away did the master carpenter Kushinji turn around. His figure was burly and strong, his face aged and serious without a trace of a smile. His hair had already turned gray, but in every move, he seemed more like a seasoned samurai, clearly having received a traditional samurai education. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Upon seeing the prince, Kushinji simply gave a samurai¡¯s salute, then he replied loudly, with a hint of dissatisfaction.


    "Prince, how exactly is this crossbow supposed to maintain shooting stability? To lay the arrows flat, we can only use unstable two-feathered arrows, and given their short and thick bodies, they drift off course at just thirty steps! Where is the hundreds of steps range you mentioned?"


    Facing the imposing master carpenter, Xiulote was at a loss for words, how could he remember the specific crossbow design in detail?


    Indeed, this was the most important research project in the weapons area¡ªthe crossbow. And Kushinji was the person mainly responsible for weapons research.


    In the Nava language, Kushinji means a professional carpenter, an honorific title passed down and recognized by the royal family. Only the most prominent and skillful master carpenters from the main branch of the artisan families in the capital city could inherit this name.


    As a master carpenter, Kushinji originally worked at the center of craftsmanship, holding a revered status. From a young age, he surpassed Kuode, the older carpenter of a family branch. As a result, Kuode returned with the King and due to his leadership in the development of the longbow, he abruptly rose to the position of chief artisan supervisor, with all master carpenters under his management.


    Seeing his old brother¡¯s smug face, Kushinji couldn¡¯t swallow his pride. When Xiulote established a new center for craftsmen, he took the initiative to apply to join. Delighted by the master carpenter¡¯s commitment, the young man entrusted him with the important task of weapons research.


    The ongoing weapons research included: the development of wooden crossbows, the improvement of long spears and throwing spears, research on incendiary fire arrows, and the trial production of gunpowder on Heavenly Fire Island.


    It took Kushinji just two days to modify the crafting process of the three-meter bronze long spears.


    The bronze long spear¡¯s head weighed about half a jin, sharpened on both sides, allowing for slight slashes besides thrusting. The challenge lay in the processing of the wood. Using hardwood for the shaft, it would be less elastic and more prone to breaking, requiring soaking in oils to increase rigidity. Additionally, for every meter added to the length of the spear, the difficulty of the processing increased exponentially, as did the labor costs.


    Given the current productivity of the Alliance and the needs of the battlefield, long spears of three meters in length were sufficient for use.


    After that, the Master Carpenter, following Xiulote¡¯s instructions, improved the throwing spears into two types: heavy and light. However, the terms "light" and "heavy" were relative; overall they were still on the heavier side of javelins.


    The young man¡¯s inspiration naturally came from the javelin-wielding legions of Ancient Rome.


    Light throwing spears measured between one and a half to two meters in length with a diameter of about three centimeters. They were tipped with flint and paired with javelin throwers, with a shooting range of twenty to thirty paces, primarily targeting lightly armored militia or for tactical harassment. They were inexpensive to produce and would be supplied in large numbers to light javelin infantry.


    Heavy throwing spears, ranging from one meter to one and a half meters in length, were thicker and heavier. Armed with exceptionally sharp obsidian tips, their optimum shooting distance was around twenty paces. Xiulote considered casting lead balls onto the front of the spears to increase their weight and shooting power. In future plans, every Mexica samurai should carry two heavy throwing spears, slotted in the inside of the shield. When facing formations of enemy warriors in cotton armor and leather armor, the strategy was to throw two rounds of dense javelins at close range, and then charge into combat after throwing.


    Xiulote had tested the power of the heavy javelins: within twenty paces, they could pierce leather armor and immediately incapacitate the target. Or they could stick in shields, forcing the enemy warriors to abandon their shields. Once they had enough metal, they could fully align with the Roman legions.


    As for the incendiary fire arrows, they were in preparation for naval warfare against the Tarasco people, and are still just a concept. The craftsmen were testing various combustibles while waiting for gunpowder to be produced.


    The young man¡¯s thoughts came from the Battle of Tang Island between the Song and Jurchen Dynasties. The power of early gunpowder focused more on burning rather than explosions. Wrapping gunpowder in paper tubes and binding it onto arrow shafts for propulsion and incendiary purposes, burning the enemy¡¯s wooden ships, should be a relatively reliable naval warfare strategy, one that also underwent real combat testing.


    Once the purity and potency of gunpowder were further enhanced, simple copper-hooped wooden cannons could be put on the agenda. With an ample supply of copper mines, they could attempt to make the more challenging bronze cannons. And for the even more challenging matchlock guns, a lengthy time and technological progress were required.


    Xiulote¡¯s thoughts returned from the detailed plans, now focusing on researching crossbows and their mass production.


    The young man had investigated the royal army directly under the king and found that only a minority of warriors were proficient with bows and arrows; out of fifty thousand, only a few thousand bow warriors could be recruited. Since mastering the longbow ultimately required years of training, to rapidly increase ranged combat capabilities, they had to rely on crossbows, which were easy to operate and aim, in addition to recruiting skilled tribal hunters.


    A week ago, Xiulote roughly described the concept and structure of a crossbow to Kushinji: a bow with a crossbow arm attached. The front end of the crossbow arm fixed the bow, with a groove-shaped bolt track in the middle for placing the bolt, and a crossbow mechanism installed at the rear. The upper part of the mechanism was a hook for the string, and the lower part was the connected trigger, controlling the release of the string.


    This was the young man¡¯s understanding of the crossbow, with all other aspects left for the Master Carpenter to figure out on his own. Kushinji held his breath, working day and night. However, in just a few short days, he had constructed a simple wooden crossbow, but this weapon seemed far from sufficient compared to Kuode¡¯s longbows.


    Facing the dissatisfied Master Carpenter¡¯s questions, Xiulote found it difficult to articulate. He took the simple wooden crossbow from Kushinji¡¯s hands and examined it closely.


    The curved length of the crossbow arm was about one and a half meters, also made from a single piece of wood, which smelt to the young man like fir. The bowstring was about one meter twenty-three centimeters long, rough to the touch, and made from hemp fabric. The groove-shaped bolt track was horizontal, so it could only accommodate crossbow bolts with feathers on the left and right. The wooden crossbow mechanism withstood tremendous force; the hook appeared to be slightly deformed.


    Xiulote tried to string the crossbow again; its pull was only just over ninety pounds, still not as much as the Mexica longbows, which had been improved to over a hundred pounds, but stronger than the Tlaxcalan bows.


    Then, the young man aimed at the human-shaped straw target thirty paces away, and pulled the trigger. This time, the crossbow bolt traced a downward arc and hit the target¡¯s right leg. Kushinji¡¯s face darkened beside him, while the Divine Archer Bertade curled his lips.


    Watching this scene, Xiulote fell into deep thought. Faced with the familiar crossbow, he closed his eyes, beginning to recall vague details from his memory¡ªfrom museums to films, to the books he had read. Everyone around him was silent, their eyes filled with expectation and awe, waiting for His Highness to communicate with the gods and gain yet another "Divine Revelation" from the heavens.


    After a while, the young man finally opened his eyes. He looked at the Master Carpenter with a clear and bright gaze, smiling faintly.

 Chapter 222 - 127: The Development of Technology, Part Two

    Xiulote reflected for a long while before he finally understood: he had confused the Eastern crossbow with the European crossbow.


    However, in the history of both the East and Europe, their designs were completely different, so much so that calling them both "crossbows" might not be accurate. They had also evolved towards different battlefield roles.


    The Eastern crossbow was an enhanced upgrade of the long-range war bow, with a large frame, high tension, and long draw distance, using slender bolts nearly resembling arrows, equipped with a specialized sighting structure. Its range and power were both amplified versions of a bow. Many crossbows from the Han and Tang Dynasties could even be used as war bows once the bow arms were detached. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Tactically speaking, from the Qin army¡¯s unification of the Six States to the Han Dynasty¡¯s crossbow formations marching north to combat the Xiongnu, the Eastern crossbow was an offensive weapon for long distances, widely used in military formations across vast terrains. By the Song Dynasty, heavy crossbows had reached their peak, becoming the singular weapon in field battles that could counter heavily armored cavalry.


    "Hmm, like the divine arm crossbow that was known to exist but its craftsmanship was lost," the young man yearned and shook his head slightly.


    The European crossbow, on the other hand, emphasized close-range armor-piercing capabilities, a shorter frame, similarly high tension, shorter draw distance, using thick, heavy bolts. Sighting mechanisms had not yet become commonplace in this era, with an effective flat-trajectory range of only about seventy steps. To increase tension, European crossbows first used steel strips for storing energy and then invented specialized mechanical cocking devices to draw the string. Its trigger mechanism was also different from that of Eastern crossbows.


    From a tactical application standpoint, European crossbows were widely used in castle-based defensive battles, mainly positioned as defensive armor-piercing weapons for close-range firing from advantageous terrain. Their design featured a smaller frame and shorter draw distance, trading off some firing power for a higher density of troops within a unit distance, which was highly suited to the limited space in castles.


    In this era, European heavy steel crossbows were cocked using mechanical windlasses, with an extremely slow rate of fire, tension reaching over two thousand pounds, and were unstoppable within twenty steps, greatly effective in piercing armor and capable of causing shock injuries to knights inside plate armor, aligning well with the characteristics of castle defense battles.


    Xiulote shook his head again; the heavy steel crossbow was still too far-fetched. At that time, the efficiency of transferring energy with steel strips was quite low, resulting in significant energy loss. Relatively speaking, medium-sized wooden crossbows were more practical, with much higher energy transfer efficiency at the same poundage.


    Thinking this, Xiulote gave a slight smile to the Master Carpenter, his eyes bright.


    Then, he waved to the Head Warrior and made a writing gesture. Bertade nodded in understanding, fetched a wood board and a newly made charcoal pencil, and handed them to His Highness. The young man¡¯s knowledge of physics remained, and he casually sat cross-legged on the ground, quickly engaged in calculations and drawings.


    Seeing this scene, Master Carpenter Kushinji was momentarily stunned. Curiously leaning over, he saw His Highness writing unknown strange symbols, "m" "v" "g", the horizontal equations resembling the priestly script of the heavens. Then, parabolic trajectories were drawn, with "h" "D" marked on them. Finally, various declining curves with "F" "L" at both ends and the shaded areas within the curves were filled in with charcoal, resembling the abstract eyes of deities, gazing darkly at him.


    Kushinji¡¯s gaze became vacant, utterly bewildered. Astonishment finally replaced his solemn expression, showing on his aged face. Then, turning to Bertade with a grave look, he discreetly pointed at His Highness and then at the heart where the spirit was said to reside in myths.


    Bertade nodded seriously, also pointing to his own heart, and then nodded again. He indicated that everything was normal, that this was His Highness¡¯s routine operation, a "Divine Revelation" rather than "evil."


    Of course, if it were an ordinary citizen without such a lofty status and position, venturing into invention and displaying traits beyond the norm would likely result in being sent to the sacrificial altar.


    Xiulote was engrossed in his work, oblivious to the silent conversation happening beside him. He first calculated the potential energy of the bow frame, the kinetic energy and momentum of the arrows. Then he estimated the maximum shooting distances at a forty-five-degree angle for different initial velocities. Finally, he assessed the kinetic energy of the arrows as the tension changed.


    After the calculations, the young man had a deeper understanding of both Eastern and Western crossbows.


    Long-range shooting was the process of transforming the potential energy of the bow frame into the kinetic energy of the arrow. Energy is the product of force and distance, and the arrow¡¯s kinetic energy is determined by both the tension and draw distance, which are integrated over the course of release.


    The lethality of an arrow depends on its momentum, which is the deformation from the impact between the arrowhead and the target. When the lethal force of the arrow increases at a constant rate, the demand for kinetic energy rises exponentially, leading to a rapid increase in the size of the crossbow frame and eventually evolving into the giant ballistae. To increase the arrow¡¯s weight, thus increasing its momentum for the same kinetic energy, is the most common way to enhance lethality.


    Here, tension is what¡¯s referred to as poundage. The type of bow or crossbow dictates the effect of changes in tension. The tension of both bow frames and crossbow frames typically decay at different rates, gradually decreasing as the draw distance shortens during the string¡¯s release.


    The Mexica longbow used by the Alliance now is a straight-pull bow, which has relatively high tension decay and the simplest craftsmanship. More advanced recurve bows can store a significant amount of elastic potential energy in advance, offering a flatter tension curve and transferring more kinetic energy.


    The recurve bows in the East also often incorporate compound bows, using stiff tips on both ends to balance the tension curve. The extreme of this can be seen in the Ming and Qing bows, with large recurves, long draw distances, and high tension. They pursue the ultimate in energy transfer, enduring the vibration of the bow frame and sacrificing long-range stability in exchange for a potentially lethal armor-piercing strike at close range.

 Chapter 223 - 127: The Development of Technology Middle_2

    And even more implausibly, the pulling curve of the modern pulley bow remained nearly a flat line, meaning that under the same pulling force and pulling distance, the energy stored was twice that of a straight-pull bow.


    At this thought, Xiulote nodded slightly and then shook his head. It was only with a large supply of buffalo horn and sinew that he could consider producing a composite crossbow. The pulley crossbow, meanwhile, was distant and impractical. By the time technology had evolved to efficient steel-making and precision machinery, the era of gunpowder weapons would have already arrived.


    The pulling distance, the distance over which force is applied, is another crucial factor determining the kinetic energy of arrows, yet it is often overlooked. Due to the rapid decay of force when a bow is released, increasing the pulling distance effectively increases the integral area of force and distance, and the increase in kinetic energy exceeds linearity. In other words, a longer pull distance significantly enhances the functionality of arrows.


    The youth recalled the images in his memory, lost in thought.


    Take for example the Qing bow, preserved in photos, where the archer can stretch the bowstring to the other shoulder, and the pulling distance is the entire arm plus body width. Based on the theory that arm span equals height, the pulling distance of the Qing bow could even reach over one meter. This pulling distance brought about terrifying kinetic energy, and coupled with heavy arrows, it could penetrate heavy armor within fifty steps.


    The pulling distance of a Japanese bow was between 90 cm and one meter, compensating for the lower stored energy of its bamboo body, yet still achieving notable results. European longbowmen in oil paintings could only pull back to the cheek, similar to Longbow Warriors in Tang Dynasty murals, with a pulling distance of about 80 cm. This was what they called hearing the twang by the ear. The Turkish bow also had this level of pulling distance, but utilized a high-strength composite material to maintain force while minimizing the bow¡¯s length.


    Below that, at a pulling distance of 70 cm, there were only small-pull American hunting bows, along with slightly smaller cavalry bows. These bows were usually used primarily for hunting, having very limited effectiveness against armored warriors.


    Xiulote recalled the Tlaxcalan bows they had seized; their pulling distance also fell into this range, hence their relatively low power. As for the shorter and weaker primitive bows, they were the weapons of tribal hunters, posing a negligible threat to Mexica leather-armored warriors, unless it was a divine archer capable of hitting the eye within thirty steps.


    Corresponding to bows were the pulling distances of crossbows, which could be judged by the distance between the stringing position of the crossbow mechanism and the body of the crossbow.


    In Han Dynasty murals, arm-stirrup crossbows were strung with one hand, reaching nearly half an arm¡¯s length, with a pulling distance of about 40-50 cm. Stirrup crossbows were strung by stepping on them with both feet and pulling with both arms to the end of the thighs. The youth estimated the pulling distance to be at least 70-80 cm. As for the waist-stirrup crossbow, with the strongest pulling force and an unusually wide body, it required robust crossbowmen to sit on the ground and use all their strength to string it like a rowing machine, pulling it past their knees, and the pulling distance was also likely to be between 40-60 cm.


    Xiulote then recalled the wartime scenes in European oil paintings. He was particularly impressed with their crossbowmen.


    These European crossbowmen, slender in build, often held a crossbow that only pulled to mid-arm, with a pulling distance probably within 30 cm. European steel crossbows had great pulling force but a very short pulling distance, hence the kinetic energy they could transmit was actually limited. A 160-pound long-pull longbow and an 800-pound short-pull steel crossbow had very similar kinetic energy in tests. However, the heavy arrow momentum of the steel crossbow was outstanding, making it excellent at penetrating armor at close range.


    Overall, the development of Eastern bows and crossbows spanned a full three thousand years, with more mature technology and more efficient structures, making them the absolute mainstay in the war history of Huaxia. Whereas the development of Western bows and crossbows was shorter, additionally suppressed continuously by the Church, serving only as a defensive auxillary in warfare for piercing armor.


    In fact, large-scale deployment of crossbow warriors was the key weapon of successive Celestial Empires against heavy armored cavalry, from the Qin and Han Dynasties to the Tang and Song Dynasties, far more advanced and mature than Europe at the time in terms of range and power. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After a moment of contemplation, Xiulote decided to follow the development path of Eastern crossbows. Based on the images in his memory and the current level of technology, he decided to copy the specifications of the Han crossbows and establish a three-level crossbow warrior system of arm-stirrup crossbows, stirrup crossbows, and waist-stirrup crossbows.


    The youth flipped over the wooden board full of formulas and curves, then with a black charcoal pen, he carefully drew the rough shapes of the three types of crossbows and the actions of the warriors stringing them on the back.


    Xiulote made some corrections and took a while to finish drawing, finally exhaling in satisfaction.


    Then, the youth glanced up slightly, gazing at the distant Western sky. He had crossed oceans and millennia, recalling the vast and extensive intercontinental wars between Han and Hun, as well as the subsequent decisive battles, smiling complexly and sentimentally. All these detailed memories came from that time, albeit he had not expected to use them here.


    Everyone stood by, waiting for a long time, until His Highness finally stood up. He put down the wooden board filled with strange drawings and symbols, picked up a simple wooden crossbow, and smiled confidently again.


    "Kushinji, come here."


    Xiulote waved to the master carpenter not far away, then pointed to the drawings on the board. The master carpenter looked around cautiously to ensure His Highness was back to normal. He then approached and looked at the mysterious board.


    "The issue of shooting stability is something I initially forgot. It shouldn¡¯t use thick, short arrows, but ones similar to feathered arrows, only slightly shorter for better flight. Then, the position of the crossbow arm groove should be slightly tightened, holding the feathers just a bit. This way, although the sliding of the arrow slightly hinders the process, the trajectory after shooting becomes much more stable."

 Chapter 224 - 127: The Development of Technology Middle_3

    Kushinji pondered for a moment and nodded. Long arrows flew easily, increasing friction to fix the trajectory¡ªthough he couldn¡¯t explain the reasons behind these truths, he still had tangible experience and understanding.


    Then, Xiulote discussed an extremely important part of the Han crossbow, the aiming device, Wangshan.


    "A vertical strip should be added to the crossbow machine, with the side used to assist aiming and ensure the accuracy of the target. Also, five large divisions should be marked on it, each divided into two half degrees. Thereby determining the aiming orientation and clarifying the specific shooting angle," he explained.


    At this point, Kushinji fell into thought. He looked at the diagram drawn by His Highness, found a wooden stick, and marked evenly divided angles on it. Then, he held the stick in front of the crossbow and gestured, finally having a realization.


    "His Highness has a good idea!" The Master Carpenter¡¯s praise was brief. Immediately, he raised a new concern.


    "Speaking of this crossbow machine, it can hook the bowstring, waiting for the right moment to shoot, which is indeed a great idea!


    But this small part bears a huge force, and after just a few dozen shots, it begins to deform, especially at the bottom pin and where the crossbow arm combines. This area is easily damaged, and I have already repaired it once. How can such a fragile weapon last on the battlefield?"


    As he spoke, Kushinji pointed at the lower end of the crossbow machine, already showing significant wear and deformation, and this was just a light wooden crossbow.


    Xiulote was silent in thought. He recalled the crossbow machines excavated from the Han Dynasty, which were made of bronze on one hand and seemed to have a specific case on the other. The young man pondered the principle and analyzed it to give detailed suggestions.


    "The crossbow machine could be made of tough and wear-resistant sandalwood or ironwood, or even solid antler. Once there is sufficient bronze, I will give you a batch to specifically make durable bronze crossbow machines.


    Also, a wooden case should be installed outside the crossbow machine, letting the pin first pass through the wooden case, then slot into the hole on the crossbow arm. This external case can secure the pin, preventing it from shaking during shooting and affecting accuracy. Meanwhile, the force between the crossbow arm and the pin is distributed to both the outer case and the pin, making it more durable. By the way, since the pin is very small, it could be replaced with a copper pin. Eventually, the wooden case will be replaced with a copper case as well," Xiulote reasoned.


    He thought further and added,


    The invention of the external case was a significant advancement for the Han crossbow. First, it stabilized the crossbow machine with three-point fixation, increasing accuracy. Secondly, it dispersed the force from a single point to multiple points, allowing the pulling force of the crossbow to increase exponentially, greatly enhancing its lifespan. From then on, the strong crossbow became widespread, becoming a standard issue in the Han army.


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s suggestion, the Master Carpenter thought for a moment, gestured around the exterior of the crossbow machine, then slowly nodded. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Makes sense, this should last a long time! I will make one to test today. However, how can we make the crossbow¡¯s range and power exceed that of the longbow?"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote smiled knowingly, Kushinji was eager to surpass Kuode. The young man nodded and suggested, pointing to the body of the crossbow.


    "The power of the crossbow comes from the pulling force of the crossbow¡¯s body and the pull length of the bowstring. Cocking and shooting have already been divided into two independent sections by the crossbow machine. Therefore, cocking no longer requires a continuous supply of force but can utilize the explosive strength of the whole body. In other words, you can thicken, thicken, or even lengthen the crossbow¡¯s body, to exponentially increase its shooting power!"


    Xiulote paused, seeing the Master Carpenter¡¯s epiphany, he continued speaking before giving him a chance to ask questions,


    "Kushinji, look, these are three different types of crossbows I¡¯ve designed.


    The first is an arm-cocking crossbow, the stirrup crossbow. You should have heard, I proposed a new unit of pulling force, pound, when making the longbow. You need to refer to this diagram to make the actual object, roughly today¡¯s enhancement of the wooden crossbow.


    The pulling force of the stirrup crossbow needs to be 150 to 200 pounds, the pull distance is about the length of a large forearm, with a maximum projection distance of one hundred eighty paces, and the flat shooting range needs to reach at least one hundred twenty paces, where it can injure a Samurai in Leather Armor. Overall, the power of the stirrup crossbow should be slightly stronger than the longbow. Every shot takes about the time of four shots from a longbow."


    Seeing the Master Carpenter¡¯s surprised eyes, Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but smile slightly; this was just the beginning.


    "Next is a foot-cocking crossbow, the Stirrup Crossbow. Its body needs to be further thickened, with a pulling force of 250 to 400 pounds, a semi-diagonal maximum projection of 230 paces, and a flat shooting range of 200 paces. Such a slight upward angle in shooting can completely penetrate Leather Armor at 160 paces.


    This type of crossbow will become the main long-range weapon, and I will establish a large-scale unit of Stirrup Crossbow Samurai. You need to prepare for mass production, simplifying every step. It¡¯s best to have a uniform size to facilitate angle control during collective shooting.


    Also, when cocking this crossbow, both feet must stand on the bow body, using the strength of the waist and legs to pull the string to the end of the thigh. Its pull distance should be half longer than that of the stirrup crossbow, and you should also wrap two layers of silk hemp around the middle of the bow body as a buffer to prevent damage during cocking. There should also be an auxiliary cocking device, roughly like this..."


    Xiulote explained in detail, adding marks on the wooden board to remind Kushinji of the details to pay attention to. Unlike the Warring States, the Han Dynasty¡¯s Stirrup Crossbow did not have a foot ring; the archer directly stepped on the bow arm to cock, using both feet to exert greater force.


    "The last one is a waist and leg cocking crossbow, the Heavy Crossbow. Besides being thickened, its body can be further lengthened, exceeding that of a Longbow. The pulling force of this Heavy Crossbow is between 500 to 700 pounds, with a pull distance similar to the stirrup crossbow, estimated a bit more than half a meter. Its projection range is above 250 paces, usually reaching up to 300 paces.

 Chapter 225 - 127: The Development of Technology Middle_4

    To cock this type of crossbow, one needed to sit on the ground and exert their full body strength, like rowing a boat. When firing it, one had to brace it against their shoulder because of its significant kickback, to prevent severe shaking. Its lethality came primarily from projectile motion, rising to an extreme height before falling at a slant, pinning the enemy at the impact point to the ground. Only the most robust Samurai could wield it, hence it wasn¡¯t produced in large quantities, but was used for long-distance morale strikes and formation disruption.


    The youth pondered in secret, "One ¡¯stone¡¯ in the Han Dynasty is slightly over thirty kilograms, close to 70 pounds. A seven to ten stone crossbow would be the impressively powerful stirrup crossbow. The heaviest ten stone, a 700-pound heavy wooden crossbow, would be known as the ¡¯Great Yellow Crossbow,¡¯ with a range exceeding three hundred and fifty paces. This is the limit for individual use and belongs only to the absolute warriors."


    The Great Yellow Crossbow would also be specifically lengthened for drawing, designed for sniping at the enemy¡¯s Commander-in-Chief. During the Han army¡¯s northern campaigns, there were more than a few instances of sniping at Xiongnu leaders, so there must be some method to increase the accuracy of long-distance shooting.


    Xiulote thought hard for a while and then sighed with longing. Due to the advantage of a two- to threefold draw length, along with wood¡¯s lower energy transfer loss compared to medieval steel, the kinetic energy transfer of a 500¨C700-pound stirrup crossbow would be roughly equivalent to a 2000¨C3000-pound pulley-cocked steel crossbow, capable of dealing fatal threats to heavily armored targets.


    In fact, a thousand Samurai armed with stirrup crossbows could completely suppress a hundred European Knights in heavy armor. Under the intense long-range shooting, the cavalry would be subject to continual impacts, losing their horses and their lives. While at short ranges within fifty paces, the massed shooting was enough to bring down plate-armored knights. Although the crossbow bolts might not always penetrate high-quality polished plate armor, the continuous impact¡¯s momentum was sufficient to fracture bones, and bolts hitting the head would cause severe concussions, rendering the knights wholly incapacitated.


    For the Mexica people, all three types of these Han crossbows were within the scope of technologically feasible production. It was just a matter of how much cost was involved, how much copper ore needed to be consumed, and whether they could be mass-produced on a large scale.


    As for more powerful siege crossbows, according to Song Dynasty records, they ranged from 20 to 30 stones. The arms of the crossbow were to be over two meters long, with a draw length astonishingly between one and three meters. Even the trigger mechanism was 30 to 40 centimeters, the bolts akin to two-meter javelins, with shooting ranges of 1 to 2 Li. Such weapons belonged to super long-range siege weapons, far exceeding the current technical capabilities.


    Xiulote closed his eyes tightly and then reopened them. He withdrew his thoughts, returning from the river of history, thinking no more, simply reminiscing about old dreams flowing like water and imagining a flurry of blossoms.


    Next, the youth looked towards the Master Carpenter. Kushinji had already become completely engrossed in the formidable power of the stirrup crossbow. He gazed at the drawings on the planks, his hands constantly gesturing. It took a while before he came back to his senses, somewhat discontent, he looked at His Highness.


    "Your Highness, how long exactly are the arms of this stirrup crossbow? Can the trigger mechanism really withstand such a great force?"


    Xiulote was startled once again. After thinking for a while and making sure he had fully grasped what he could from his wealth of knowledge, he gave a vague command.


    "It certainly can. As for the specifics of the design, it¡¯s just a matter of lengthening, thickening, reinforcing, and using better materials. I¡¯ve pointed out the most difficult direction for you, the rest is up to you to explore. You are the best Master Carpenter, trust in your abilities! By the way, prioritize the trial production of the Stirrup Crossbow, I will come to inspect it after the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rite."


    "With a few hundred Stirrup Crossbows at the post-harvest coronation war, nothing could be more secure! Kushinji, the great cause of the Alliance relies on you!" sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After leaving one last encouraging remark, the youth tiptoed, smiled, and patted the Master Carpenter¡¯s shoulder, then turned away with dignity before the other could ask more questions, stepping away briskly. Bertade followed silently with a composed expression.


    Next, Xiulote intended to inspect the reinforced military equipment, the Cloth Armor and Rattan Armor. There were also improvements in civilian technology to be checked, including woodblock printing, paper enhancements, Charcoal production, glass making, and brick kiln construction... This was the eve of rapid technological advancement, a history he was personally pushing forward!


    Behind him, Kushinji, at some point, looked up again, his gaze following the departing Highness. A long time later, the Master Carpenter looked up at the sky, where the Sun God had ascended to the Throne of the Gods, His light spilling down upon the earth.


    "Is there really such a thing as Divine Revelation in this world? Could the distant Sun God truly be watching over the mortal realm?"


    After a moment¡¯s distraction, Kushinji lowered his head again in silence. With full concentration, he began the trial production of the Stirrup Crossbow. A breeze blew through the courtyard, bringing with it the fresh scent of wood. Soon, the bygone history was set to reemerge!

 Chapter 226 - 128: The Development of Technology, Part Three

    Xiulote walked through the bustling courtyard, heading northwest towards the Divine Revelation Place, where the armor equipment research area was located. The person in charge here was Matelar, a master armor craftsman from the Holy City. Besides being skilled in cotton armor, he was especially good with leather armor.


    The cotton armor and leather armor techniques of the Mexica people had matured considerably. Every young samurai was equipped with an Ichiqavihpili, which was a vest form of light cotton armor. Warriors above the second level were equipped with different ranks of Telaviztli, that is, brightly colored full-body cotton armor. And the more elite veteran warriors would transition from cotton armor to cotton armor inlaid with leather or to sleeveless, tied leather armor.


    The widespread popularity of cotton armor was primarily because of its low production costs. Central America was one of the main origins of cotton, possessing an extremely rich variety of cotton resources, and the history of the America¡¯s ancestors domesticating cotton was shockingly long. In this era, the upland cotton planted by the various parts of Mexico was the world¡¯s highest-yielding variety, far surpassing the cotton of India during the same period.


    After the Spaniards arrived in Mexico and Yucatan, they discovered the superiority of the upland cotton¡¯s yield and would, in turn, bring it back to Eurasia, rapidly spreading it around, replacing the original Eurasian cotton.


    Xiulote knew that in later centuries, Mexico¡¯s upland cotton would account for 90% of the world¡¯s cotton cultivation yield. In fact, since the American civilization lacked cattle and sheep, and was short on leather and wool, it went to great lengths in plant domestication. Corn, pumpkin, potatoes, sweet potatoes, peanuts, strawberries, cassava, green beans, tomatoes, avocados, chili peppers, passion fruit, pineapple, pitaya, cacao, sunflowers, tobacco, rubber, and high-yielding upland cotton were all outstanding contributions from the ancient American civilization to the world, thoroughly changing human life. It was another form of great civilization.


    When Xiulote stepped into the armor workshop, the fragrance of cotton fat greeted him, making him feel light and relaxed.


    The young man looked around. The craftsmen placed several jin of cotton into molds, soaking and repeatedly pressing them to form thick sheets, that is, the cotton sheets. At this moment, the middle of the workshop was filled with cotton sheets being aired out. If these cotton sheets did not swell after being exposed to the sun for a day, they were considered successfully made and could be used to make cotton armor.


    In a corner of the workshop, armor master Matelar sat next to a large tank, tanning a nearly four-meter-long crocodile skin. This was fresh material that the warriors had just brought over from Heavenly Fire Island, requesting the armor master to help make it into leather armor. Of course, since there were no thick cowhides available, the leather armor was still made by attaching leather to the surface of a cotton armor.


    Compared to cotton, leather materials were difficult to come by. The Mexica¡¯s only sources of leather were the scarce wild deer, coyotes, jaguars, and the massive crocodiles. Seasoned warriors would enter the forests to try ambushing deer, chasing tigers and wolves, and hunting large crocodiles, in order to make their own treasured and tough leather armor. As such, leather armor became a symbol of high-ranking warriors.


    Xiulote walked over quickly and looked carefully. The crocodile skin had completed the soaking and washing process, becoming soft and clean. The protein fibers were fully stretched and expanded, and it was now placed into the tanning leather tank. The tank was filled with small pieces of chopped bark, and a layer of fat floated on the surface of the water.


    The young man sniffed the slightly pungent smell, also detecting the unique fragrance of pine trees. He then looked at the texture of the bark; indeed, it was tanning-rich pine bark, and possibly some fir bark too. The tanning juice from the bark would flow into the water, then penetrate into the skin and combine with the collagen, completely denaturing the protein structure and turning the skin into leather, making it tough and non-rotting.


    Matelar stirred the crocodile skin in the tank with force, as if he were taming a large, fierce beast. This stirring process had to continue for two quarters every day. After several weeks, the skin would soften and could be taken out again for beating and kneading. After tanning was completed, it would be rinsed, stretched, and dried on a wooden frame. Finally, selective grinding, oiling, polishing, and softening would be done until it was completely shaped.


    A soft and tough jaguar skin served as a sitting mat where Xiulote conducted business while seated on the floor in a grand hall. Jaguar Nobility warriors also favored draping themselves with jaguar skins or making leather armor of it to showcase their bravery and strength.


    Seeing the prince arrive, Matelar knelt respectfully to give a salute. He was probably over forty years old, ordinary-looking, with a diagonal claw mark on his face that looked quite ferocious, a remnant of his youthful hunts for tigers and leopards. Looking at his thick, heavily calloused fingers, his movements were agile and strong, clearly marking him as a skilled hunter.


    Xiulote immediately stepped forward two steps, smiling as he lifted the armor master.


    Matelar was an old man of the Holy City, well-known to the young man since childhood. He was a senior civilian warrior, adept at hunting and skilled in armor making, who eventually retired from his warrior role to become an armor master, enjoying a high status in the Holy City¡¯s military. The young man¡¯s leather armor and deer leather boots were made at his request.


    Matelar was a fully trustworthy member of the direct lineage. This time, to set up the Divine Revelation Place, Xiulote specially invited the armor master from the Holy City to take charge of the armor research affairs.


    "Matelar, have you finished the armor trial I asked you to do? How¡¯s the defense? And how much labor did it cost?" Xiulote asked earnestly.


    The master armor craftsman gave a gentle smile and handed over his work to the apprentice. His temperament was much better than that of Kushinji, and now he personally walked over to the neatly arranged row of armor on the wooden rack, providing a detailed explanation to His Highness.


    "Your Highness, please look. These are the cloth iron armor, paper armor, rattan armor, and finally the rattan shield that I crafted myself, all as you requested."


    Xiulote nodded slightly, his eyes filled with anticipation. Cotton armor could effectively defend against obsidian weapons and arrows but was weaker against bronze weapons, unable to withstand the piercing of copper spears. The young man then searched his memory for various equipment, attempting to have the master armor craftsman replicate them.


    "First, this cloth iron armor. Following Your Highness¡¯s suggestion, I have affixed neatly arranged copper sheets inside, then filled it with cotton and leather. To save on copper, the copper nails and copper sheets are concentrated at the chest and shoulders. Each suit of cloth iron armor uses between twenty to thirty catties of copper and, along with the weight of the cotton armor itself, weighs thirty to forty catties.


    "It can completely defend against the cutting of war clubs, though it is slightly weaker against blunt strikes. Regarding bows and arrows, Tlaxcalan bows can¡¯t pierce it at all, and Mexica longbows need to be at a close range to penetrate. Against the copper axes and copper spears of the Tarasco people, the defense of this cloth iron armor is astonishing."


    Speaking this far, Matelar praised sincerely, his facial scars trembling with amazement. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "However, as previously mentioned, a suit of cloth iron armor requires at least over twenty catties of copper and more than ten catties of cotton. It requires specialized craftsmen to shape the copper sheets and nails, then attach them to the cotton armor. The production cost and manpower are very high. This type of armor is also exceedingly heavy, only elite samurai can endure it for long periods."


    As he spoke, Matelar brought over a test Tarasco bronze axe, chopping several times, the cloth iron armor showed no fatal damage. He then switched to a copper spear, thrusting at it numerous times head-on, with the copper plates under the cotton simply sliding off. Only attacks aimed at the sides could be lethal, and those areas would normally be protected by weapons and shields.


    Touching the smooth copper nails on the surface of the cloth armor and feeling the hard copper plates underneath, Xiulote nodded his head in satisfaction, lost in thought.


    In this era, due to its excellent performance and low cost, cloth armor had already begun to spread throughout the Ming Dynasty. The elite Ming border army was equipped with a large amount of cloth iron armor, which could even weigh between forty to fifty catties, becoming a new type of heavy armor.


    Later, towards the end of the Ming and start of the Qing era, the Spaniards brought Mexica cotton to the world, and the Celestial Empire¡¯s cotton output would greatly increase, thereby making cloth armor the standard equipment for the regular army. The proportion of iron armor during the Ming and Qing period would surpass that of any previous dynasty, often having tens of thousands of iron-armored troops. The later Jurchen main force would all wear armor, with most equipped with the inexpensive cloth iron armor.


    Cloth iron armor¡¯s defense against traditional swords and knives was astonishing. Compared to plate armor and stab armor, it was much simpler and cheaper to produce and its defensive capabilities were not reduced by much. Additionally, it was particularly easy to maintain and repair, allowing it to be widely distributed within the regular army of the Eastern Empire. Meanwhile, the cotton stuffing could effectively defend against the emerging firearms, being somewhat the most basic bulletproof vest.


    Afterwards, Xiulote shook his head with a wry smile. This equipment, cheap and effective for the Ming, was an exceptionally expensive and advanced form of heavy armor for the Mexica Alliance and various parts of Central America¡ªtruly invincible!


    A suit of cloth iron armor required twenty to thirty catties of bronze, enough to make fifty spearheads weighing five taels each, providing weaponry to fifty village militiamen that could threaten samurai. However, the Alliance did not produce copper and could not afford the cost of hundreds of heavy copper armors. Moreover, the production of cloth iron armor consumed a significant amount of labor.


    More critically, this technology skipped over the difficulties and extreme weight issues of forging full bronze armor. Once it fell into the hands of the Tarascans, breaking through this barrier would truly arm the enemies from the West. Their strength would increase exponentially, completely changing the military balance between the two sides.


    Thinking of thousands of cloth iron armor-clad samurai, Xiulote shivered and shook his head again. After pondering for a moment, he had Matelar put away the cloth iron armors and temporarily sealed the production technique. Only when the Alliance ventured westward, obtaining a stable source of copper mines, would the cloth iron armor begin to be equipped, bringing surprise and profound despair to the next war target.


    Next, the young man turned his gaze to the cloth paper armor, this new yet ancient inexpensive equipment, showing a sincere smile on his face.

 Chapter 227 - 129: The Development of Technology (Continued)

    Xiulote approached quickly, scrutinizing the armor closely. The brown-grey paper mail in front of him had a layer of fabric on both the inside and outside, with a thickness reaching half the width of a palm. It felt soft yet firm to the touch, and he could faintly smell the refreshing scent of paper.


    The young man then eagerly looked toward the paper mail Master, Matelar.


    "How effective is this paper armor? What does it cost? Is it easy to maintain?"


    Telar also caressed the paper armor, smiling as he explained.


    "As per Your Highness¡¯s instructions, I used fabric as the base, layered with dozens of extremely soft papers, bonded together using a corn ash paste, and then covered with another layer of fabric. Afterward, it was pounded with a stone hammer to compact it into one layer. Then, dozens more papers and a layer of fabric were added, continuing to increase the thickness and strength... This paper armor has a total of four layers!"


    While speaking, the armor craftsman used an Obsidian Club to strike it first. The sharp cutting could only tear through the first layer of paper mail, with the second layer being half penetrated. A full-force swing of a bronze axe could slash through three to four layers, but it caused no damage to the wooden frame beneath the fourth layer. Only a full-force thrust of a bronze spear could pierce through all four layers, leaving a shallow mark on the wooden frame. A close-range shot from a Tlaxcalan Bow could only break through two layers, with the impact energy completely absorbed by the paper.


    After demonstrating the armor¡¯s dry defense capabilities, Malatel thoughtfully pondered and then continued to assess.


    "This paper armor is quite light, and its defense depends on two things. First, naturally, the more layers, the stronger the defense. Stacked up to six layers or more, it can even be compared to fabric-covered copper armor! However, if it¡¯s that thick, it would severely restrict movement. Second, if the paper armor gets wet, its defense can increase exponentially, becoming impenetrable to an axe!"


    As he spoke, the armor craftsman asked his apprentice to bring over a large bucket of water and evenly poured it onto the paper armor. The paper armor gradually absorbed the water until it was completely sodden, feeling wet to the touch. Then, Xiulote personally swung the copper axe to chop at it, but the section that was cut felt too soft to hold any force and was completely uncuttable. Even when he switched to a copper spear, he could only pierce it slightly.


    Seeing this, the young man finally nodded, satisfied. After a moment¡¯s thought, he shook his head.


    "Malatel, your design is a simplified version of the fabric-covered paper armor, using only paper pulp as the filling material within the fabric. Next, it¡¯ll need to be soaked in oil to alter the paper¡¯s structure and prevent it from becoming damp and rotting. Then, paint should be applied to the outer layer to prevent the absorption of too much moisture that would scatter the paper pulp, and finally, apply lime to prevent burning."


    "However, a truly excellent paper mail needs to be soaked in oil for several months, painted several layers inside and out, and then blended with lime. The key areas are nailed with metal, with paper pulp forged into pieces, as firm as hardwood, comparable to iron armor, and also waterproof and moisture-proof... But, such a manufacturing process would be prohibitively expensive, so let¡¯s stick to your design!"


    Hearing this, Malatel bowed his head in acknowledgment, his silent smile broadening as he continued his introduction.


    "Your Highness, this kind of fabric-covered paper armor is not difficult to produce, and apprentices can also participate in its making. However, it requires a huge quantity of paper and is quite labor-intensive to hammer into shape. Maintenance and repair are easy, just adding paper and fabric will suffice. Normally, we need to be careful with fire, but during the rainy season, there¡¯s no need to worry." sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote fell into deep thought again, his eyes sparkling with insight.


    As papermaking technology advanced, paper armor began to be used on a large scale during the Tang and Song dynasties, becoming the standard armor for local military forces during the Song Dynasty. In this era, the lower-ranked soldiers of the Ming army were mostly equipped with paper armor, especially among the naval forces.


    In reality, paper armor is light and waterproof, with its defense strengthening when wet, making it highly suitable as standard equipment for naval forces. During the lengthy rainy season in Mexica, paper armor could also play to its strengths, without the worry of rust like metal armor. Hmm, there might be a need to watch out for insects.


    Technically speaking, there is almost no difficulty in manufacturing paper armor. As long as there is an ample supply of raw materials and manpower, it can easily be mass-produced. This armor¡¯s role is actually quite similar to that of cotton armor. However, in this era of low productivity, cotton cultivation and output are limited after all, and cotton fabric even circulates as currency in Central American society, making it less accessible than papermaking materials.


    Common raw materials for papermaking include bamboo, Luwei, tree bark, long grass, and jute, none of which require arable land and can be managed with human resources during farming downtimes, fully leveraging the manpower advantage of the Mexica Alliance.


    After careful consideration, Xiulote made a decision to list paper armor as standard issue, popularizing it among the longbow militia and spear militia soon to be formed, and also to reinforce the naval forces.


    "Malatel, the role of this armor is for mass distribution to arm thousands of elite militia. Similar to the standard cotton armor, it only needs to effectively withstand the samurai¡¯s war club in a battle! I need the cheapest two types: double-layered paper armor for the elite militia and single-layered paper armor for the naval forces."


    Following this line of thought, prepare yourself, Malatel. Compile the paper armor¡¯s manufacturing methods in detail. Soon, I will establish a specialized workshop, diverting hundreds of craftsmen to mass-produce paper armor. You can recommend someone to manage the workshop!"


    Xiulote issued the order solemnly.


    Malatel thought for a moment, respectfully bowing his head to accept the command. He still had to develop new-type armors, so it was the perfect opportunity to promote his top apprentice who had followed him all the way from the Holy City. Thinking this, the armor craftsman¡¯s smile broadened, and the scars on his face also pulsated cheerfully.


    After that, he rose and moved to a meticulously woven yellow-brown rattan armor, introducing it again with a smile.


    "Your Highness, this is the rattan armor made according to your wishes. The Alliance has a tradition of using Green Vine to make shields, and there are some old vines in stock. I have woven this rattan armor using the old vine, which took quite some time, with the most challenging part being the handling of the joints. Fortunately, the finished product is very light, tough to penetrate with clubs or axes, and offers excellent defense!"

 Chapter 228 - 129: The Development of Technology (Continued)_2

    With that, Malatel used the Obsidian Club to chop and slash, but the Rattan Armor remained without a scratch. He then cautiously hacked with a Bronze Axe, leaving only slight marks on the Rattan Armor. Finally, he stabbed with a Copper Spear, the tip went through some of the natural gaps in the Rattan Armor without causing any damage to the armor itself.


    Xiulote approached for a closer look and saw the Rattan Armor was tightly woven. The old vines were dark yellow with a hint of brown, and the natural gaps between the vines were only the size of rice grains. The skilled movements of the Master Craftsman generated a breeze, and a faint smell of fish oil met the face, evidently long-soaked.


    The youth watched for a moment and then asked with keen suspicion.


    "Malatel, why didn¡¯t you chop down with full strength with the Bronze Axe? Also, how does this type of armor fare against arrows?"


    Embarrassed, the Master Craftsman smiled, pondered for a moment, and then chose to explain truthfully.


    "Your Highness, this Rattan Armor is different from other armors; its defense relies entirely on the material of the whole old vine. Once it is chopped through with great force, the Rattan Armor is almost impossible to repair. We don¡¯t have that much old vine in stock, and new vines require a year of oil treatment..." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hearing this, Xiulote pondered for a moment, then sighed slightly.


    The defensive power of Rattan Armor was between Iron Armor and Leather Armor; a good piece of Rattan Armor was not inferior to Iron Armor. However, throughout the history of the Celestial Empire, Rattan Armor only became popular among the southwestern borderlands and the Naval Forces. It was eventually supplanted by Paper Armor and Cloth Armor, obviously having some irremediable flaws.


    In actual application, the most critical shortcoming of Rattan Armor was not its vulnerability to fire, but its difficulty in repair. It was very common for armor to sustain damage during battle. After a fight, Stab Armor and Scale Armor needed to replace metal plates, Chain Mail to mend the iron rings, Paper Armor and Cloth Armor to refill materials, but Rattan Armor could not be repaired. Its defense relied solely on the material quality of the old vine; once broken, it can only be remade.


    Furthermore, crafting Rattan Armor was very time-consuming. Green Vines had to soak in water for half a month, dry for several days, and be soaked in oil for a year. After being woven into armor, the surface needed to be hardened, consuming a great deal of labor. Additionally, the sturdiness of Rattan Armor was directly proportional to the age of the Green Vine; fresh vines were brittle and easy to break, while old vines were tough and wear-resistant, but the raw materials were hard to come by.


    Besides, Rattan Armor had natural openings, making it very vulnerable to arrows. The tough old vine was not easily bent, so most Rattan Armor could not incorporate movable joints. Wearing it was like donning an oversized vest, which gave it an ancient look.


    Seeing His Highness¡¯s face growing grimmer, Malatel¡¯s heart tightened, and he quickly stepped forward to make amends.


    "Your Highness, the Alliance has long had many experiences in using Green Vine. In my opinion, it is very suitable for making shields and helmets."


    As he spoke, the Master Craftsman took a helmet woven from old vine and respectfully handed it to His Highness.


    Xiulote accepted the Rattan Helmet, touching its dark surface and feeling its toughness. He tested it several times with a Bronze Axe, and it indeed proved to be unusually sturdy. Then, the youth tried the Rattan Helmet on, and it fit him just right. This type of helmet was extremely lightweight, much more comfortable than the animal-shaped Wooden Helmet, and its ventilated pores allowed effective airflow and heat dissipation.


    Xiulote remembered the Wooden Helmet he wore last time he went to war, how he sweated like rain in the heat and how suffocating it was. Feeling the comfort of the Rattan Helmet, he slowly nodded his approval.


    Malatel gave a small smile and then demonstrated the defense of the Rattan Shield once more to His Highness.


    As an expendable item in battle, Rattan Shields could be woven from readily available fresh vines. As a shield, the natural gaps of the Rattan Shield were no longer a disadvantage.


    The Master Craftsman began with a vigorous stab using the Copper Spear. The Copper Spear pierced through the Rattan Shield but became stuck, unable to be pulled out.


    "Under these circumstances, the opposing samurai can only abandon their weapons, while our samurai discard their shields."


    With that, Malatel chuckled. Then, he fired arrows at the rattan shield, and the arrows were absorbed into the crevices of the shield, their kinetic energy absorbed as well.


    Seeing this, the youth nodded slightly. Compared to rattan armor, rattan shields were indeed more cost-effective and practical. The buffering force of this kind of rattan shield could also effectively defend against primitive firearms; no wonder it became widely popular during the Ming and Qing dynasties, with one in the hand of every regular soldier.


    Xiulote thought for a moment and then gave his orders again, with a serious tone.


    "Malatel, in that case, we¡¯ll set aside rattan armor for now. Compile the manufacturing methods of both the rattan helmet and the rattan shield and recommend someone to take charge. Next, I too will equip the new army on a large scale. Rattan helmets don¡¯t all have to use old rattan; similar to rattan shields, prioritize cost-effectiveness while maintaining a certain level of defense!"


    The master craftsman once again accepted the command with a smile. This time, it was time to consider promoting the obedient second disciple.


    The youth pondered in his heart, summing up his experience in choosing military equipment.


    Just as the power of a long-range weapon is the product of its draw weight and draw distance. The power of military equipment is also the product of the power of a single piece of equipment and the total number of equipment. And numerical superiority is the most important decisive factor in the selection of military equipment!


    In 1441, the price of a full set of Milanese plate armor was at least 72 Rivellon silver coins, already half the price from two hundred years ago. And the maintenance cost of a set of plate armor also required at least a dozen silver coins each year. Such expensive equipment could only be afforded in the long term by nobility owning more than two hundred acres of land.


    Compared to the costly plate armor, the standard leather armor of the same period was only 1-2 silver coins, and since it didn¡¯t have to worry about rust, the maintenance costs were extremely low.


    For the same cost, a knight in plate armor leading fifty lightly armored horsemen in cloth would face the same number of enemies with the same martial arts skills in leather armor; the result of the melee would be the knight facing dozens of foes alone. Then, after losing his horse and exhausting his stamina, he would be overwhelmed by numerous enemies and stabbed to death with a dagger.


    In the complexity of actual combat, such hypothetical conditions don¡¯t have much significance and only serve to illustrate a point: A true commander must not place supreme value in the quality of the equipment, thereby overlooking the quantity of the equipment.


    For the Empire, the strength of its army is a contest of national power. Behind every legion is the massive manpower and material resources that support it. The quantity of a legion¡¯s equipment will be decided by both manufacturing and maintenance costs. Manufacturing cost determines the scale of production, and maintenance cost will continuously deplete the empire¡¯s finances, with both simultaneously consuming national strength. Without a powerful empire and millions of people and craftsmen behind the legions, a vast military system cannot be sustained.


    This is the reason why cloth iron armor replaced studded armor and scale armor: cheaper to make and easier to maintain. The popularity of paper armor and cotton armor is also due to this. The army of the Celestial Empire numbers in the hundreds of thousands, something which the nations of Europe cannot match. Every reduction in cost greatly alleviates the empire¡¯s financial pressure, and rulers naturally make choices accordingly.


    At this point, Xiulote already had a comprehensive equipment plan for the upcoming new army.


    These elite militia will wield copper spears, rattan shields, or longbows, wear rattan helmets, and be clad in paper armor with cloth surfaces. Their defensive equipment will be almost on par with that of ordinary samurai, while both the cost of assembly and routine maintenance will be considerably reduced. With the aid of new weapons and tactics, the elite militia will truly step onto the historical stage, using their vast numbers to change the course of wars and even the structure of society as a whole.


    In the foreseeable future, amidst unceasing wars, a new class will rise!


    His thoughts soaring, Xiulote looked towards the distance with a sigh. In the sky, flocks of birds from the north were migrating south to spend the warm winter here. At the highest point, an eagle spread its wings, soaring above the vast land. Below the eagle was a flock of geese in flight, and countless flapping birds. They flew in great numbers, obscuring the sky, crossing mountains and the Great Lake, flying over the entire world!

 Chapter 229 - 130 Great Love and Petty Love, Heartlessness and Light Song

    ```


    Birds took flight, accompanied by the afterglow of the setting sun. The wide world was open, a place where all creations strive for freedom amidst the frosty heavens. The torrent of history, always vast like the earth and sky, rushed towards the end of time, never ceasing, never knowing its end. And heroes were but riding the tempest, seeking the moment and the trajectory of flight, yearning to transcend mortality and ascend to immortality.


    Xiulote stood with his hands behind his back, looking up at the flock of soaring birds. His young face bore a world-weariness not befitting his age. Everything he had seen that day, like fleeting light dancing, remained etched in his heart. As if the bygone years returned to him, accompanied by five thousand years of war and slaughter, unforgettable and long-lasting.


    The setting sun gradually descended, the evening glow burst forth with its final brilliance, resembling falling cherry blossoms, carrying the beauty of the withering Samurai. Not until the red fully filled Xiulote¡¯s eyes did he wistfully watch the days of old go down, like an era slowly fading into the distance.


    The youth¡¯s thoughts wandered, then returned, from the Nine Heavens to the Nine Abysses. He laughed heartily, enlightened and elevated in spirit.


    "It turns out, what I need to be is not a hero, but a diligent farmer. In the soil of the era, I plant seed after seed, nurturing them carefully, fostering the undercurrent of history. Until the fields are lush, until the fruit trees rise from the ground, until civilization grows as dense as forests, then naturally birds will come to roost, and all heroes will fall within my grasp!"


    At that moment, Xiulote finally understood the elders. His gaze grew deep, his emotions profound.


    From thought to innovation, from production to technology, from politics to society, the diligent farmer needs to till the land meticulously. He must wield the hoe, breaking the hardened clods, removing obstructing weeds, indifferent to the withering before his eyes, focusing only on the growth of the future. In his heart, life took on a new meaning: from the Monarch to the common folk, love without attachment, just as heaven and earth are impartial.


    The long night was upon them, and new fires were lit. Inside the Divine Revelation Place, the Samurai had just kindled the bonfire, the flickering flames piercing the evening sky, the present brightness surpassing the distant Crescent Moon and stars. Amidst the firelight, the attendants surrounded the wise junior member of the Royal Family in solemn silence, standing respectfully awaiting the next command.


    Coming to his senses, Xiulote smiled warmly. He waved his hand to the crowd.


    "There¡¯s no hurry. Let¡¯s call it a day! The northern district¡¯s military Craftsmen have done well, and they will be rewarded. Have the southern district¡¯s civilian Craftsmen ready. I¡¯ll come to see their progress tomorrow morning."


    With that, he smiled and gestured for everyone to disperse. The Craftsmen breathed sighs of relief, quietly discussing tonight¡¯s plans, wondering if they should open a cask of aged wine to celebrate the junior Royal¡¯s praise.


    Bertade watched the young man silently. He smiled contentedly, his face displaying the signs of age. In the previous days, the junior Royal had been busy rushing around the Capital City like a refreshing breeze, supervising with severity, as cold as the morning dew. But now, smiling gently, he bore the weight of mountains, like a youthful sun.


    Dew nourishes the earth, tasted cold and sweet. The sun shines upon all things, where it¡¯s ruthless, it sets the world ablaze. Rising from the earth to the heavens, such should be the King. With radiance shining upon the world, what does it matter if one stands alone!


    Xiulote seemed to sense something and looked towards the Head Warrior. Bertade knelt on one knee and saluted, just as when they first met. The two faced each other for a moment, and the young man calmly extended his hand, touching the Head Warrior¡¯s hair. The surrounding Samurai exchanged glances for an instant and then, without hesitation, knelt to salute.


    This moment was like a silent painting, frozen in the long night. The leftover fire crossed a thousand years, blazing anew under the historical starry sky, and also burning in the heart of the King.


    Without a word throughout the night, Xiulote slept soundly. He was relaxed, even his sleeping posture calm and peaceful. The next day, as usual, after completing his morning exercises, the youth smiled slightly and turned to his loyal Head Warrior.


    "I haven¡¯t visited the Royal Palace for a while. Since it¡¯s still early, let¡¯s go see my beloved first!" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bertade nodded calmly. The two of them took off their sweat-soaked martial garments and changed into clean, simple white robes, setting out lightly and unencumbered.


    Upon arriving at Montezuma¡¯s Royal Palace, the heavy stone doors slowly opened, revealing the grand hall and flowing water. The guards respectfully invited the junior Royal to step inside but firmly stopped the accompanying Head Warrior and Escorts.


    Xiulote nodded with a smile and waved his hand to stay the Head Warrior. Bertade pondered for a moment and then obediently complied, waiting outside the door.


    The young man strode in, but Aweit was not in the grand hall. He asked with a smile, and the attending guard replied with respect.


    "His Majesty the King left early in the morning and may already be at the Royal Palace dealing with state affairs."


    ```


    Xiulote was indifferent. With a slight smile, he strode down the familiar path, heading straight to the rose garden inside.


    Soon, the young man entered the garden, seeing spring approach lightly, stepping into a world vibrant with purples and reds and a fragrant breeze. Not far away, a gentle wind carried over a young girl¡¯s soft singing. Her pure voice soared between heaven and earth like a cloud falling to the human world, settling into the young man¡¯s heart.


    "In the garden of roses, I started to sing.


    Blooms fill the earth, and my song echoes through the sky.


    Will he hear it? Will he shake the bellflowers to the tune of the flowers¡¯ song?


    That bell resonates through the sky, those blooms fill the earth, and also in my heart...


    "


    The young man stopped to listen; this was "Spring Song" by Texcoco¡¯s royal poet, King Coyote Nesawar. In the mouth of the young girl, it had taken on subtle changes, like clouds shaped into hearts, heavy with deep longing.


    "On the flowers of spring, is the song of the thrush, shimmering with ripples over Lake Texcoco.


    Countless birds reply, yet she waits quietly, for a red sparrow to arrive.


    The lotus blossoms on the water¡¯s surface, will the hummingbird see it?


    Will it come from afar, also singing a beautiful song, landing by my side...


    "


    Hearing this, Xiulote could no longer hold back. He rushed over and, to Alisa¡¯s astonished gaze, took hold of her soft hand, embracing her tightly, unwilling to let go. Clad in white, the two resembled clouds merging with the sky.


    After a long moment, the young man finally looked at the young girl, his eyes filled with profound passion. The girl shyly averted her gaze from his burning eyes but heard a tender song. It was the following verse of the "Spring Song," also infused with the fervor of spring.


    "Your heart is a canvas awaiting my brush to paint myself upon. You sing, and I will beat the drum. You dance, in the depths of the Spring Garden, I will hold you close!"


    Alisa¡¯s cheeks flushed. She sat down quietly, in front of the pure white roses, still holding onto Xiulote¡¯s hand.


    The young man was also led to sit down, the girl quietly leaning on his shoulder. Together they gazed at the red roses, quietly joining in the most fiery coda of the song.


    "You are the beautiful flower, the intoxicating flower. Your arrival in this world was destined to become part of me. We sing and dance lightly in the depths of the Spring Garden, holding each other close, forever etched into body and soul..."


    Singing the simplest love song, a flame rose up from Xiulote¡¯s heart, spreading to every corner of his body. He firmly pulled the girl onto his lap, gazing into her bright eyes, ready to kiss her deeply.


    But Alisa playfully blinked. She leaned forward, hugging the young man tightly again, resting her head on his broad shoulder and blowing gently into his ear, allowing his breath to pass over her sensitive earlobes.


    Xiulote paused, his emotions calming slightly, but his heart began to beat violently. The girl felt the same. In silence, their hearts beat in unison, feeling each other¡¯s heartbeat, time forgotten.


    It took a while before Xiulote looked into the girl¡¯s eyes again, softly inquiring.


    "Alisa, what are you doing sitting in the garden? Are you waiting for me?"


    There was a blush on the girl¡¯s face. She slightly bowed her head, docile as a fawn.


    "No, not really. This morning I took Chimalpahin to play in the garden. We watched butterflies dance and listened to swifts twitter softly. I also told him the stories of our ancestors. But not long ago, the guards and the nanny took Chimalpahin away, and I just sat alone on the grass, beginning to sing."


    Xiulote was slightly startled, his brows gently furrowing. Chimalpahin? The three-year-old legitimate son of Aweit? Taken away? The youth closed his eyes, suppressing the turmoil within his heart. At this moment, he did not wish to ponder worldly matters; he only wanted to quietly enjoy the beautiful sensations.


    Seeing the expression on the youth¡¯s face, Alisa thought for a moment. She instinctively embraced him, her soft touch bringing a faint fragrance that seeped into the youth¡¯s heart.


    Xiulote smiled, leaning close to the girl¡¯s long hair.


    "Alisa, my oriole, what were you thinking about when you were singing?"


    Upon hearing this, the girl lowered her head, her expression darkening.


    "I was missing my mother a little."


    Xiulote felt a pang in his heart and, with pity, extended his arms and also held the girl tightly. They embraced each other snugly. After a good while, the youth whispered in her ear.


    "Then, did you miss me?"


    "Hmm, I did."


    "How much?"


    "...Hmm, a whole heartful!"


    Xiulote¡¯s heart skipped a beat. He steadied the girl¡¯s shoulders and bent his head once more, attempting to kiss the person in front of him.


    Alisa¡¯s face turned completely red. She instinctively put her hand up, blocking her lips, and the youth kissed the center of her hand instead.


    "Ah, how embarrassing! So many people are watching."


    Hearing this, Xiulote paused. He turned his head to look around; through the garden, distant guards stood solemnly still, their eyes not straying like statues. And on the two-story palace, a hundred meters away, the dark divine curtains fluttered in the wind, just as devoid of people.


    While the youth was distracted looking around, he felt a slip in his hand and a lightness on his lap. Turning his head, he saw that the girl, like a breeze, had run off as swiftly as smoke, leaving only a faint fragrance behind.


    Xiulote looked at his hands, feeling a sense of loss in his heart. His thoughts shifted lightly, and he smiled faintly. Next time, he would bring the adorable Aviloztli with him. If Alisa held her in her arms, she wouldn¡¯t be able to run away.


    The breeze continued to drift afar, reaching the top of the two-story building. It once again lifted the divine curtains and wandered past the heavy wooden walls, only to suddenly spot two tall figures.


    Behind the curtain and wooden wall, Aweit was dressed in casual home attire. He watched everything in the garden with a calm smile, his eyes full of tenderness.


    Behind him, Gillim slightly frowned, the wounds on his shoulders neatly bandaged but still tingling faintly. Between his ears, black and red scabs, already treated with medicine powder, now did no harm.


    The intelligence officer, also observing the scene, felt a headache coming on. He pondered silently and then spoke softly.


    "Your Majesty, although the prince is currently..."


    Aweit calmly returned his gaze, slowly but firmly shaking his head, his eyes still tender.


    Gillim remained silent. If the best strategy could not be followed, then he would have to suggest the next best thing. He pondered again and then began to speak slowly.


    "Your Majesty, I have been reflecting these past few days and have come up with a perfect solution."


    The king regarded the intelligence officer with a scrutinizing look.


    Gillim¡¯s heart tightened, and he replied respectfully.


    "With this solution, if all goes well, we could eliminate the threat, satisfy all parties, and also give the princess a hopeful future."


    Aweit leaned forward slightly, and the intelligence officer moved closer, whispering in his ear.


    "...just like this."


    The king¡¯s eyes first deepened, then brightened, and finally, he nodded solemnly. He took another examining look at Gillim, smiling meaningfully.


    "Gillim, your efforts are truly commendable. But why go to such lengths? Is it purely out of loyalty?"


    "As the gods are my witness, Your Majesty!"


    The intelligence officer earnestly met the king¡¯s gaze without hesitation.


    Aweit¡¯s expression did not change, as he continued to wait.


    "I swear by the ancestors of the Royal Family!"


    Gillim ceremonially lowered his head in a bow, his mind recalling the visages of the predecessor monarchs.


    Hearing these words, Aweit smiled and said no more. He looked again towards the Rose Garden, Xiulote already having disappeared. And his adorable daughter had returned, floating like a cloud. The palace and the garden were once again quiet, and the gentle breeze returned, lifting the girl¡¯s long hair.


    In the Spring Garden, Alisa twisted her hair and sat quietly in front of the white roses. The girl propped her cheeks with her hands and stared blankly into the sky, her thoughts drifting far away.


    Far away, between the wide heavens and earth, the sun was rising. But the white clouds were drifting away.

 Chapter 230 - 131: Printing and the Reformation

    Having left the Royal Palace, Xiulote strode ahead, heading eastwards. Bertade calmly escorted him from behind. Together, they advanced briskly towards the Divine Revelation Place, facing the warm morning sun.


    The young man¡¯s mood was clearly excellent. His face was filled with a warm smile as he slightly nodded in greeting to the nobility and samurais bowing respectfully along the way.


    Not long after heading east from the palace district, the magnificent Great Temple loomed ahead. Xiulote looked up, his gaze sharp. He keenly observed that one of the twin pyramids, the Rain God Temple, was undergoing reconstruction.


    At the edge of the Rain Divine¡¯s swirling banner, the War God¡¯s banner was also unfurled, positioned above it. The symbols representing the Rain Divine, mainly the storm markers, had mostly been removed and replaced with hummingbird carvings symbolizing the War God. Although he couldn¡¯t see the statue inside the temple, the young man was certain there would be changes there as well.


    This was part of the Priesthood¡¯s preparations for the New Year. Starting from this year¡¯s sacrificial ceremonies, the Chief Divine would gradually take over the agricultural divinity from the Rain Divine. The priests would also use the prepared myths to explain and give the people several years to gradually accept the promotion of the Chief Divine.


    After the Great Temple was the palace where the retired Chief Minister resided. Xiulote looked afar; the area in front of the palace was cold and somber. The elder¡¯s guard was as solemn as statues, but the centuries-old elder was nowhere to be seen. Passing the temple and palace, he continued eastward until he soon arrived at the bustle of the Divine Revelation Place.


    Looking at his own name, which he had written by hand, stirred slightly in his heart. Inside the towering palace, was the calm gaze of the elder also watching over the future here?


    A moment later, Xiulote regained his composure. He stopped pondering and headed directly towards the southern district, where the civilian craftsmen were. The first thing on his mind was the engraving printing he was most concerned about.


    The study of engraving printing was located in an elaborate side hall on the eastern side. The side hall was filled with various thick wooden boards, dark blue ink, and pristine white paper. As the young man entered, he smelled the fragrance of pine wood, the scent of ink, and a mild acrid odor.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze swept across and paused slightly. He stepped closer and stared at the snow-white paper, musing silently.


    Noticing his arrival, Aquila immediately put down the engraving plate he was holding and kneeled down to pay homage. The young man waved his hand, signaling the seasoned middle-aged gem craftsman to rise. Then, he reached out and pinched the paper in front of him; it was thick and even in quality and superior in make. The faint acrid odor also emanated from the white paper. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Aquila, did this paper come from the crafts center?" Xiulote asked, puzzled.


    "Respected Highness, this is the latest batch of refined paper completed by the paper-making section of the Divine Revelation Place, more suitable for engraving printing. It was invented by a young craftsman and hastily delivered here early this morning. Their workshop is just nearby in the neighboring building."


    Aquila replied steadily, honestly informing him.


    Xiulote nodded, it appeared the paper-making section indeed discovered a new craft. He would have to go and ask in detail later to compare with the memory in his mind and see if there were more findings. Then, he looked at the calm and steady middle-aged gem craftsman.


    "Is the engraving of the plates going smoothly? How is the printing effect?"


    Aquila bowed and gestured with an open hand.


    "Highness, everything is progressing well. Please allow me to demonstrate for you."


    Saying this, Aquila took out a thick wooden board, which had completed engravings of the Thousand Character Text in negative form. The engraved text was raised in positive form, and the rest of the blank space was removed to be recessed. The young man reached out and felt it, the positive relief was extremely detailed, just slightly raised from the surface, shallow like the edge of a fingernail, protruding about 1-3 millimeters.


    Then, the middle-aged gem craftsman carefully brushed an even layer of blue water-based ink onto the engraving board. This ink, commonly used by the Mexica Alliance, was Maya Blue, made from plant indigo extracted from wild a?il leaves and a mineral binder extracted from the lapis lazuli stone. Maya Blue was prodigious, often used in sacrificial ceremonies, applied all over the sacrifices¡¯ bodies.


    After observing the ink application, Aquila carefully covered the board with white paper and used another flat wooden board to press it evenly. Soon, he lifted the paper from the board and placed it in the wooden table¡¯s shadowy corner to dry.


    Xiulote examined it carefully, dried papers were already there, with Chinese characters as large as a thumb, clear and precise. There were also illustrations of deities¡¯ majestic representations and the Alliance¡¯s calendar Sun Stone, all extremely detailed and lifelike.


    "Aquila, how many papers can you print in a day? How many times can a single printing board be used?" the young man asked eagerly.


    Aquila pondered for a moment and carefully replied.


    "Highness, as long as there is enough paper, following the pace I¡¯ve just shown, a printer can print more than a thousand sheets a day, and if working day and night, and proficiently, up to two thousand. The number of times a printing board can be used depends on the material of the wood. I haven¡¯t worn out an engraving board yet. Looking at the wear and tear, it seems it could be used tens of thousands of times."


    Hearing this, Xiulote was greatly satisfied. Printing technology and books would be the most powerful intellectual weapons for accomplishing religious reforms and completely reshaping the spiritual world of the Mexica people!


    The Priesthood had already compiled a concise doctrine of several thousand characters, called the "Book of Ama Colley" or simply "Ama Colley Scripture". In the Nava language, "Ama Colley" means book, revelation, reader, or ancient scroll.


    The Ama Colley Scripture generally praises the Chief Divine as supreme and describes myths of the Chief Divine¡¯s creation. Its text is simple and plain, referencing the content of the Thousand Character Text, serving as a primary enlightenment book, much like the Bible in Europe.

 Chapter 231 - 131 Printing Technology and the Reformation_2

    Since the engraving was practical, the next step was to print tens of thousands of the Book of Ama Colley and distribute them to each community military school. Once the literacy education for the first batch of priests was completed, they would carry these new ideological weapons to every town and village of the Alliance. They would teach the will of the Chief Divine to every fifteen-year-old boy, spreading new religious thoughts and thereby fundamentally changing the next generation of the Alliance, establishing a Divine Kingdom on earth!


    At this thought, Xiulote¡¯s heart surged with emotions. Besides printing scriptures, the engraving could also depict the majestic Great Temple and complete mythological stories. In the form of an album, it would leave the revelations and teachings of the Chief Divine for the illiterate populace. It could also print prayer rituals, legal statutes, calendar knowledge, and agricultural illustrations to guide daily life and production.


    In sum, printing technology and religious books would drastically reduce the difficulty of spreading religious ideas and rapidly advance monotheistic religious reform. From the current perspective, paper-making and printing technology had to be strictly confidential, and the production of paper and printing of books could only be conducted in the Capital City.


    This matter related to the grand endeavors of the Mexica people. At least within two generations, the core of the Alliance had to maintain absolute cultural dominance and deliver a dimensional cultural blow to the Central American regions where writing was not yet developed! S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote quickly pondered and made a decision. All craftsmen had to be closely monitored, registered, and even isolated from society. Book printing would become a forbidden delicacy of the Priesthood, and anyone who dared to venture into this area, whether commoner or nobility, would face only death!


    This measure served both to slow the spread of technology and to prepare for the invasion of The Cross Religion from Europe. Unlike the Celestial Empire, emerging civilizations lacked a diverse cultural accumulation. Thus, the ideological battlefield would similarly be a fierce contest of life and death.


    With this in mind, he calmly and indifferently looked towards Aquila. The middle-aged jade craftsman felt a chill in his heart and hurriedly bowed his head, not daring to meet his gaze.


    Then, Xiulote continued to ponder about the development of movable type printing in Europe. The accompanying religious reform would determine the fate of the Aztec Alliance¡¯s great enemy, the Spanish Empire.


    About forty years ago, in 1440, Johannes Gutenberg invented the movable type printing in the Holy Roman states. To this day, this technology had spread to all the major countries in Europe, still rapidly proliferating and fostering opportunities for a new religious reform.


    And about thirty years later, almost concurrently with the Spanish invasion of the Aztec Empire, the spark of religious reform would first ignite in the Shenluo states, then the United Kingdom and the Roman Church would sever ties, establishing the Anglican Church. The flame of Protestantism would gradually engulf all of Europe.


    In history, after conquering America, the Spaniards would possess wealth surpassing that of other European countries, entering their Golden Age. Amid religious discord, the devout Spanish Empire thus became hostile to the Kingdom of England. England then supported the Netherlands in their war of independence from Spanish rule and extensively pirated Spanish fleets in America.


    In a double confrontation of religion and monarchy, the Spanish Empire finally dispatched the Invincible Armada in an attempt to conquer England, but unexpectedly ended in a draw. Despite their defeat in the Battle of Graefran, compounded by strong adverse southern winds, the Invincible Armada was forced to drift northward. Eventually, the Invincible Armada lost over two-thirds of its forces, with more than a hundred ships sinking in the ocean, thereby losing effective control over America.


    Subsequently came an exceptionally brutal Thirty Years¡¯ War. With the independence of the Spanish Netherlands, the decline of the Spanish Empire was officially declared, ending its Golden Age. And the final act was the Spanish War of Succession fifty years later. After this war, Spain nearly lost all its European territories outside the Iberian Peninsula, marking the end of the first empire on which the sun never set. England, meanwhile, established its dominance, gradually rising as the second empire on which the sun never set.


    Looking at the paper printed with ideas, Xiulote fell into deep thought.


    The development of history was a dynamic process, entangled with complex clues, and major historical events were just records and manifestations of severe dynamics within the trends. Printing technology fostered the trend of religious reform. The flame of Protestantism was something the Roman Church could not extinguish, and England¡¯s centrifugal force was driven by this trend.


    Purely on diplomatic terms without considering religion and culture, the post-Reformation Kingdom of England and the devout Spanish Empire were natural enemies and natural allies of the Alliance. This could be a significant opportunity in the distant future.


    After much thought, Xiulote shook his head and withdrew his thoughts from the yet-to-happen history. He once again considered the craftsmanship and feasibility of movable type printing.


    Johannes Gutenberg¡¯s movable type printing consisted of two parts: lead type casting and the wooden printing press.


    The wooden printing press here was merely a screw-style wine press, rotated using threads and levers, steadily applying pressure to the board beneath for printing. This technology had already been invented around the Common Era and was not uncommon in the Huaxia Dynasty. In fact, the printing press was never the decisive factor in the application of movable type printing; type casting was!


    Gutenberg¡¯s lead type casting technology originated from goldsmith casting, its innovation lay in the step of male and female molds. He first made male molds from hard metals, then used these male molds to engrave on soft metals, thereby creating a mold with female characters. Finally, using the female molds, he cast low-melting lead-tin to produce large amounts of repeatable male characters for layout and printing.

 Chapter 232 - 131 Printing Technology and the Reformation_3

    This technology also did not present a bottleneck for the goldsmiths of Huaxia. The copperplate paper currency of the Song Dynasty had already used metal movable type to print different anti-forgery identifiers. However, metal movable type never became widespread in the Celestial Empire, rooted in the fundamental differences between the Chinese writing system and the Latin alphabet system.


    The Chinese writing system contains over ten thousand characters, with several thousand being commonly used. The Latin alphabet system has only 26 letters, and ancient Latin even had only 21. The scale of type needed for each writing system is entirely different, with a staggering difference of two orders of magnitude. This vast disparity in production costs decides the practicality of the technology.


    When it comes to training printing workers, those working with Chinese movable type must recognize thousands to tens of thousands of characters, understand phonetics and rhymes, know the location of each character amidst thousands in the type case, and prepare multiple copies of high-frequency common characters. Meanwhile, workers using the Latin alphabet need only spell with 26 letters, a feat ordinary apprentices can master in just a few days.


    Xiulote silently reflected and finally nodded in decision.


    The writing system of the Celestial Empire, after centuries of development, had completely embraced the woodblock printing technique. Metal movable type was used at most for anti-forgery on numerals. Thus, Mexica people, who adopted the Chinese characters, would also inevitably use woodblock printing. Its characteristics of low cost, simple technology, long-term preservation, and lower cultural demands on workers, also matched the current state of the Alliance.


    Woodblock printing would continue to dominate the Alliance until the technological advances brought about by the Industrial Revolution made metal movable type extraordinarily inexpensive.


    Within moments, Xiulote had set the Alliance¡¯s technological course for a century. He continued to look at the ink for woodblock printing.


    Metal movable type does not absorb water and requires oil-based ink, which is made by adding animal and plant oils and refined turpentine to the ink. Having decided on wooden blocks, the young man was only concerned about the water-based ink used for the wood.


    There were two types of ink currently in the Alliance, one was black ink made from natural coal, and the other was blue ink made from plant dyes and mineral clay.


    Xiulote pondered silently. In the regions controlled by the Alliance, natural coal was extremely scarce, only occasionally used as black paint. These paints mainly came from the Zapotecs to the south, suggesting the existence of open-pit coal mines of unknown scale there.


    According to the young man¡¯s memory, to the north, in the land of the Canine Descendants near the future Texas, there were not only large reserves of oil but also substantial coal mines formed simultaneously. These critical mining sites were strategic locations that must be secured, as they would also drive future industrial development.


    Beyond natural coal, a common method for making ink in the Celestial Empire involved burning wood for smoke. Xiulote recalled the production process of Hui ink, analyzing every scene from his memory. This closely-guarded craft of the Ming Dynasty was freely circulated on the internet in the future.


    Unfortunately, after much thought, he could only remember that it involved burning pine wood, collecting the top layer of pine smoke, and then adding glue for binding¡ªthere seemed to be a process of gilding and engraving as well? Shaking his head, he decided to continue with the current plan, later arranging for craftsmen to attempt production. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The middle-aged jade craftsman Aquila had been waiting quietly for a while before he timidly raised his head, just in time to see His Highness shake his head. Filled with fear, he prostrated himself again, his head firmly pressed against the ground, resulting in a faint noise.


    Xiulote shifted his gaze to Aquila on the ground. He smiled with satisfaction and promised out loud.


    "Aquila, you¡¯ve done well! From today on, I will appoint you as the Master Craftsman of woodblock carving, equivalent to a noble of military merit in the Alliance! You will receive titles to land with gold, silver, gemstones, and Chinampa! You may also promote two of your kin to be Royal Warriors, as my followers!"


    At these words, Aquila lifted his head incredulously, his face a mix of shock and delight. Then, he bowed his head vigorously once more, kowtowing deeply on the ground with forceful thuds.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze lingered thoughtfully for a moment before he spoke again slowly.


    "Starting tomorrow, I will assign two Samurai to be your personal escorts. The technological crafts here will be classified as top-secret by the Alliance. I will also send you dedicated apprentices. From today on, you are the craftsman exclusively for the Priesthood!"


    Having finished, the young man observed the expressions of joy and devotion on the middle-aged jade craftsman for a while, then nodded approvingly before turning and walking toward the paper-making area.

 Chapter 233 - 132: Papermaking Improvements, Spending a Fortune on Bones, and the Craftsman Scholar

    Having left the side hall, Xiulote called over the Head Warrior and instructed him in a low voice. Bertade then nodded gravely. He left behind two loyal Guard Warriors and carefully instructed them on the precautions to take in case of an emergency. The young boy¡¯s eyes were slightly lowered as he headed towards the papermaking area nearby.


    There were several circularly arranged buildings at the papermaking area. In the middle of these buildings was a spacious square, which had once been a small garden, still bearing traces of flowers and leaves.


    At that time, the flowers in the garden had been removed, and the corner pond was soaking with various papermaking materials. Workers were turning and inspecting them. The pulp, beaten to a pulp in the paper-making troughs, some workers were carefully leveling the paper. The surrounding walls were plastered with yellow-gray sheets of dried paper, and the ground was littered with sun-exposed pale yellow pulp. The doors of the larger buildings were open, while the smaller ones were closed, occasionally locked.


    Xiulote stopped briefly. He looked up at the sky where the sunlight was brilliantly conducive. Then he bent down to inspect the pulp on the ground, which had turned to a pale white under the strong sun exposure.


    Looking at everything before him, the boy pondered silently. Startled by the presence of the accompanying warriors, the middle-aged supervisor in charge of the papermaking hurried over. As he walked, he waved his hands to the sides, and the surrounding craftsmen obediently knelt and paid homage to His Highness.


    The Alliance¡¯s real mass-scale paper workshop was located at the artisan center in the north, whereas this was just a small papermaking site. A papermaking team had been newly established in the Divine Revelation Place, following the arrangements made by His Highness. The team leader, sent from the paper workshop, was called Tezroca, apparently from a noble lineage.


    Tezroca knelt on one knee, performing a noble¡¯s salute, and then carefully raised his head, only to see His Highness with a calm expression, betraying no emotion. With something troubling his mind, he bowed his head again, uneasy.


    "Tezroca, how is the progress at the papermaking site recently?"


    Xiulote asked with a slight smile.


    "Respected Your Highness, we¡¯ve made a new breakthrough recently!"


    Tezroca said, his face alight with joy. He pointed to the pulp under the sunlight and spoke with a smile.


    "As per your orders, Your Highness, just by exposing the pulp on the ground to the sun, it gradually becomes white. The paper produced is the same!"


    Following that, Tezroca pointed to a water trough not far away.


    "Your Highness, we also discovered that by adding the viscous juice of the cactus to the paper pulp liquid in the water trough, the paper produced becomes uniformly smooth and sleek. Truly a gift from the Guardian God!"


    At these words, Xiulote was slightly puzzled. He wasn¡¯t quite sure about the role of cactus glue in papermaking. However, since the facts proved it effective, they proceeded according to practical experience.


    In fact, this was an ancient secret of papermaking, "paper medicine". Paper medicine was derived from the leaf and rhizome juices of various plants, such as elm bark, Hibiscus manihot, cactus, wild grape, kiwi vine, and sand pine root. Different paper medicines had different effects.


    But in general, paper medicine had two key effects: first, making the paper smooth and even. The paper medicine would combine with the paper and keep the plant fibers in the pulp uniformly suspended. This process improved the paper¡¯s surface absorption and in modern papermaking technology, it was replaced by better pressing and sizing techniques. Second, it prevented wet papers from sticking together, crucial in mass-scale papermaking. When stacking thousands of wet papers, only with the addition of paper medicine would they not stick to each other. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In this era, good paper necessarily required good paper medicine, and once produced, the paper would feel soft, display vivid ink colors, and not turn grey as coarse paper did.


    Xiulote remembered the white paper he had seen at the engraving area. He nodded slightly, expressing his appreciation to the supervisor. Then he continued to wait, but Tezroca seemed to have nothing further to say.


    The boy looked again at Tezroca, who knelt on the ground, his face also full of expectation.


    "Your Highness, are you satisfied? Your previous promise..."


    Xiulote frowned slightly. He asked in a deep voice.


    "Tezroca, I heard that you¡¯ve recently produced a batch of white paper?"


    The middle-aged supervisor¡¯s face changed subtly. He quickly lowered his head and replied respectfully.


    "Your Highness, indeed, the white paper is in the western building. But this batch of white paper was produced by chance; we have yet to master the trick to replicate it. In a few more days, we hope to succeed and then we will rejoice with Your Highness!"


    Xiulote thought for a moment. He remembered the irritating smell on the white paper and recalled what Aquila had mentioned, his suspicion growing. When he spoke again, his tone was more severe.


    "Tezroca! How was that batch of white paper produced, and you didn¡¯t record it? Which craftsmen were involved in making it? Call them here!"


    Tezroca¡¯s forehead immediately broke into a sweat. He struggled to maintain his composure, named a few craftsmen, and then began to call them over.


    However, Xiulote paid him no heed. He simply extended his hand, pointing to two craftsmen kneeling by the water trough.


    "You, you, come here!"


    The craftsmen looked at each other, quickly got up, and came over. Then, glancing at the supervisor kneeling on the ground, they too knelt down again.


    "How was the recent batch of white paper produced?" Xiulote questioned sternly.


    The craftsmen hesitated, their glances converging on the middle-aged supervisor on the ground. Seeing this conspicuous scene, Tezroca collapsed in despair.


    Xiulote¡¯s anger rose. He looked around at the Guard Warriors, and immediately one of the warriors pinned Tezroca to the ground. Two more elite warriors took their War Clubs from their backs and approached the craftsmen.

 Chapter 234 - 132: Papermaking improvements, price of gold for bones and craftsman scholar_2

    The craftsmen instantly cowered on the ground in terror, frightened and quick to speak in turn.


    "Your Highness, yesterday afternoon, Xipak brought out a batch of very white paper, intending to present it to you. But you did not come later."


    "After Lord Tezroca saw it, he went over and talked to him about something, then the two of them had an argument. Xipak threw down the white paper and ran off, and Tezroca took the batch of white paper away, saying he would study it..."


    "Xipak? Where is he?!" Xiulote asked again.


    The craftsmen hesitated for a moment. They glanced at the Samurai next to them, then at the person in charge who was collapsed on the ground, and one pointed to the east while another quietly spoke.


    "Xipak came early this morning, and then he was locked in the small hut on the east side by Lord Tezroca."


    Xiulote waved his hand, and several Samurai went together, breaking into the small hut in the corner of the east. Soon, they dragged out a young craftsman, whose hands and feet were bound with rope and mouth stuffed with coarse paper. The craftsman had a lively gaze and his features were somewhat pleasant to look at.


    The young man looked at the Head Warrior. Bertade nodded, pulled out a Bronze Axe, and with an accurate swing, chopped off the ropes binding the young craftsman¡¯s hands and feet, and also removed the coarse yellow paper from the craftsman¡¯s mouth.


    Gaining his freedom of hands and feet, Xipak relaxed and then slumped. He sat on the ground to rest for a while, his gaze intently fixed on Tezroca, who was also collapsed on the ground. Then, the young craftsman stole a glance at the style and form of Xiulote¡¯s clothing and quickly knelt respectfully on the ground.


    "Are you Xipak?" the prince asked, his voice cold and authoritative.


    "Respected Your Highness, I am Xipak, a descendant of the Priest from Tenochtitlan."


    The young craftsman answered earnestly.


    A descendant of the Priest, fallen to a craftsman... Xiulote pondered lightly and continued to inquire.


    "Xipak, did you send the white paper to the carving place?"


    At this point, Tezroca¡¯s eyes widened fiercely as he glared at Xipak, who was slightly trembling.


    "Yes, Your Highness. Hearing that you would visit today, I came early in the morning and handed another batch of paper I had stored earlier to Uncle Aquila. He said this batch of white paper was of excellent quality and promised it would be shown to you."


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s gaze hardened. He recalled Aquila¡¯s ordinary appearance and those calm, steady eyes.


    "How was the batch of white paper made?" Xiulote asked, focusing on the most crucial point.


    "Steamed with vapor produced by burning the Stone of the Dead. It whitened after a while." Xipak did not hesitate and revealed the biggest secret. At this moment, being held down on the ground, Tezroca finally heard the result he had been pressured to reveal the day before, turning pale with dread.


    With his eyes closed and deep in thought, the young man understood: sulfur burning to form sulfur dioxide. Sulfur dioxide is used for bleaching, combining with colored substances to form unstable colorless compounds. It all made sense!


    Realizing this, Xiulote nodded. Then, he looked at Xipak again.


    "What happened between you and Tezroca yesterday and today?"


    Xipak clenched his teeth. He clenched his fists and angrily raised his voice in reply. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, you promised a substantial reward for improvements in paper. Everyone was holding their breath, working hard on research. I was the first to figure out the method to add cactus juice to the pulp, which Tezroca took away. Then I found the method to bleach the paper, and this time I hid it. Yesterday I brought out the white paper, planning to report it to you face-to-face during your inspection."


    "As a result, Tezroca set his sights on it again. After you left yesterday, he pressed me again. This time, I only said it was a coincidence, then I threw down the paper and quickly ran away."


    "This morning, I hid my presence and entered the Divine Revelation Place through a side door, handing another batch of white paper to Uncle Aquila. Then as soon as I arrived at the paper production area, I was caught by Tezroca, who was prepared and had several craftsmen with him. He locked me up in a hut until you released me... Tezroca wanted to claim the reward you promised all for himself!"


    Hearing this, fear increasingly gripped Tezroca¡¯s heart. He struggled fiercely on the ground, crying out loudly.


    "Your Highness, it¡¯s not like that! I shared all these methods with the craftsmen in the end. I did not impede the great undertaking of the Alliance, nor did I affect paper production! As the person in charge, I also made contributions to these improvements; I just deserve a larger reward..."


    All the clues were now clear, the remaining details irrelevant.


    Xiulote closed his eyes, a surge of fierce anger burning inside: the research system he had had high hopes for, barely established, was already being infiltrated by the bureaucratic style of the nobility, resulting in the exploitation of the developers, unwillingness to share the results of their research, and hindrance to technological progress! This was an unforgivable sin!


    A moment later, when Xiulote reopened his eyes, they were filled with murderous intent.


    "Bertade!"


    The Head Warrior bowed, waiting for orders, his expression calm.


    "Tezroca has undermined Divine Revelation, a crime that cannot be forgiven. Behead him immediately!"


    Xiulote spoke authoritatively, brooking no defiance.


    Bertade did not hesitate, pulling out the Bronze Axe from his waist. He took two steps forward and approached Tezroca.


    Seeing the approaching Bronze Axe of the Samurai, Tezroca cried out in despair and fear, his voice cracking.


    "Your Highness, Your Highness! I am a descendant of the hereditary nobility! I am willing to resign and leave! Spare me..." His words abruptly stopped.


    The Head Warrior stretched out his robust left hand, forcefully grasping Tezroca¡¯s throat, like holding a turkey. Then, he slightly scanned the neck of the person in charge, finding the best soft landing spot. After, he shifted his body to the side, avoiding the gushing blood. Finally, he steadied his right hand holding the Bronze Axe and forcefully brought it down, cutting into the soil.

 Chapter 235 - 132: Papermaking Improvements, Price of Gold for Bones, and Craftsman Scholar_3

    Blood sprayed violently, accompanied by a piercing scream. Bertade looked up, puzzled, only to see Xipak, who had fallen to the ground in terror.


    The young craftsman had been standing too close. He had stared at Tezroca¡¯s fate and, getting sprayed in the face, collapsed, screaming in horror. Now, his nose and mouth were covered in warm liquid, and the thick smell of blood filled the air. In his heart were the terrifying, desperate eyes of Tezroca in the last moments, complete with pupils violently contracting.


    The Head Warrior chuckled dismissively. Then, he grabbed the wet hair from the ground, lifted the still-bleeding head as if it were a pumpkin freshly cut, and walked back to the youth with a calm expression.


    Xiulote calmly glanced at it, then averted his gaze as his anger subsided slightly.


    "How many accomplices does Tezroca have?"


    The craftsmen were already trembling and collapsing to the ground, prostrate with fear. Upon hearing the terrible query of His Highness, they immediately pointed out five craftsmen whose faces had turned pale with fear.


    Bertade asked again quietly, bowing.


    "Your Highness, how should they be dealt with?"


    Looking at the indifferent expressions of the warriors, looking at the fearful and waiting faces of the craftsmen, Xiulote slightly lowered his eyes. He remembered the rules that prevailed in this era. He also remembered yesterday¡¯s vow to become a farmer.


    Moments later, he broke the silence, speaking calmly, yet sighing inwardly.


    "Execute them all! Hang their heads at the gate of the Divine Revelation Place for three days to show the public!"


    Upon hearing the stern command of His Highness, five elite warriors stepped out immediately. They took their bronze axes and skillfully forced the five men to the ground. In just a moment, five more pools of blood and five headless corpses lay on the ground. Afterward, the warriors took the head from Bertade, picked up wooden racks and ropes, and headed straight for the gates of the Divine Revelation Place.


    Now that authority had been established, rewards naturally followed. After pondering for a moment, Xiulote turned his gaze to Xipak, who had collapsed on the ground.


    "Xipak, get up and speak!"


    Xipak wiped the blood from his face. He struggled to rise from the ground but found himself weak. Eventually, he managed only to kneel obliquely on the ground, his head turned in the direction of His Highness.


    "Xipak, how did you discover the two improved techniques for papermaking?"


    The young craftsman thought for a while and answered, trembling.


    "Your Highness... I used to be a carpenter. I remember that cactus sap can alter the surface of wood... As for the Stone of the Dead, my father was a War Priest, who died on a campaign to Tarasco years ago, leaving behind some of the Stone of the Dead... Later, I couldn¡¯t become a priest, so I spent a long time studying these divine objects..."


    Xiulote nodded slowly. It seemed these techniques were indeed Xipak¡¯s original creations. After being a priest, a craftsman, an inventor... it truly was like finding a priceless stallion!


    The youth pondered for a bit, recalling his promise to improve paper, and thinking of his own grand plans. He then looked once more at Xipak, showing a smile that hinted at fate.


    "Xipak, you have improved paper, putting forward two processes, so I shall reward you doubly! From this day forth, you shall be the Master Craftsman of papermaking at the Divine Revelation Place, equivalent to the military nobility of the Alliance!


    The Divine Revelation Place falls under the High Priesthood. Since you are the offspring of a priest and have inherited knowledge, I appoint you the First Level Explorer of the Divine Revelation Place. Your holy office shall be equivalent to that of a First Level Priest!"


    "From now on, you will be the head of the papermaking department! As promised, I will recruit a Royal Warrior from your family as a follower, reward you with a hundred bolts of cotton cloth, ten acres of Milpa, and a chest of gold and silver!"


    Hearing this extraordinary promotion and generous reward, Xipak¡¯s eyes widened to their fullest, his expression resembling one in a dream-like trance, and then he collapsed to the ground once again. Destiny¡¯s smile had completely floored him, yet his mind was still incessantly calculating.


    The title of a Craftsman Master is almost that of nobility; a First Level Priest is akin to an official position, while the head of the papermaking department is a job title, supplemented with abundant land and wealth. Titles, official positions, job posts, and riches, in a moment¡¯s time, he had leapt from an ordinary craftsman that others could easily mistreat to a true ruling class member of the Alliance!


    Xiulote glanced around at everyone¡¯s expressions. The faces of the craftsmen changed from fear to boundless desire and anticipation; the elite warriors¡¯ faces were also filled with envy. The youth then nodded silently¡ªthis was the atmosphere he wanted.


    Such a generous reward was not solely meant for Xipak, but rather aimed at the craftsman and priest communities. First, he wanted to ignite the enthusiasm for research among the craftsmen, spending huge sums to push technological innovation to its extreme. Second, he intended to open up a path of advancement for Craftsman Masters, offering them a small number of priest positions.


    Last, and most importantly, under the name of the Divine Revelation Place, he planned to establish a branch of craftsman scholars among the priests during the tumultuous period of religious reform!


    The clerical system, as decided by the High Priesthood, was rough and simple, specifically divided into five levels. Below the Fifth Level were the Zero-level Assistant Priests, who are the starting point for all priests. Going upwards, the Third Level High Priests overseen ecclesiastical districts, aided by several Second Level priests.


    Fourth Level Supreme High Priests enter the Priesthood¡¯s central authority and take charge of the various departments. Locally, they govern the local ecclesiastic province, which is essentially the Elder Priest of each City-State. Eleven States would determine eleven Supreme High Priests, with the rest serving as deputy positions. The current highest position, the Fifth Level Supreme High Priest, consists of twelve cardinal elders within the High Priesthood, with the first being the High Priest. The corresponding clerical positions have not yet appeared locally; in the future, they will manage ecclesiastical provinces.


    Currently, Xiulote¡¯s clerical position was that of a Fourth Level Supreme High Priest, involved in compiling doctrine, devising ecclesiastic laws. In addition, within the Priesthood, the department he was in charge of was the Divine Revelation Place, the path of the craftsman scholars among the priests, also the planned center for scientific research.


    To distinguish from other priests, he specially prepared new names for the Fifth Level clerical positions within the Divine Revelation Place: First Level Explorers, Second Level Scholars, Third Level Wood Drillers, Fourth Level Fire Transmitters, Fifth Level Divine Revelators. Explorers embody the essence of a hummingbird¡¯s flight, Scholars emphasize the importance of broad knowledge, Wood Drillers must diligently delve into their studies, Fire Transmitters pass on the sacred flame, and Divine Revelators were himself. Of course, since his position was only at the Fourth Level, Fire Transmitters would remain undisclosed for the time being. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Science and technology are the primary productive force, and these names embodied his deep and earnest hopes: to explore the unknown, acquire extensive knowledge, then delve into a field of study, ignite the sparks of new technologies, and consequently become the developers of technology, fostering the flame of civilization!


    This was Xiulote¡¯s ambition and vision. Not long ago, the youth had spoken in detail with his grandfather about this matter.


    The High Priest nodded calmly, agreeing to the establishment of the Divine Revelation Place. As for these names, he neither approved nor disapproved but simply smiled and said,


    "My child, remember that power always flows from the top down, not the reverse."


    Xiulote fell silent for a moment. Then, he firmly countered,


    "It is so now, but it will definitely not be that way in the future. The Divine Revelation Place will change our future!"


    Upon hearing this, the High Priest looked at the youth¡¯s resolute expression with satisfaction yet responded with laughter and no answer.


    At that moment, Xiulote once again recalled his grandfather¡¯s meaningful smile. The youth was momentarily distracted, then as always, he was resolute. He made a final check of the papermaking process, understanding all the details, then left with clarity.


    Before leaving, Bertade looked at the dazed Xipak and shook his head inwardly. With such exceptional promotion and being singular in his pursuit, the path of the first craftsman scholar was bound to be challenging.


    "Of course, in this world resembling a jungle, who has an easy path? It¡¯s nothing but clearing the thorns, slaying the tigers and leopards, and following the sun," he thought.


    With that in mind, the Head Warrior smiled slightly and turned on his heel, heading in the direction of the sun.

 Chapter 236 - 133 Faction Force

    Xiulote strode out from the papermaking area, leaving behind an imposing figure that, though not large, inspired fear and admiration in the eyes of the craftsmen. It wasn¡¯t until he had turned a corner and walked a bit further that he stopped, his heart stirring with emotion.


    He stamped his foot briefly, then calmly lifted his head to look at the sky. The sun blazed fiercely, its light bright and clear, and beneath the dome of the Eastern sky, several columns of blue smoke rose clearly. Once the samurai arrived, he headed straight there. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Charcoal burning and brick firing required a lot of raw materials and took up a large area, so they were set up on the periphery to the east of the Divine Revelation Place, near convenient waterways. This area belonged to the outskirts of the city, known for its beautiful scenery, and was previously populated with many estates of the Texcoco nobility, adorned with gardens, green willows, and flowing waters amidst the pine trees.


    However, after the blood sacrifices, the Great Nobility of Texcoco went to the Divine Kingdom, and the lesser nobility was detained for re-education¡ªthus, these miles of land were requisitioned by the Divine Revelation Place. Now, parts of the nobility estates were converted into research centers, and the rest served as quarters for samurai and artisan communities. As for the local thousands of civilians, only a few could move away, the majority were subsumed into the jurisdiction of the Divine Revelation Place and henceforth enrolled into the military service, used as labor for corv¨¦e.


    In a classical military society, everything is subordinated to military concerns, and administration is often crude, forceful, and direct in its effectiveness.


    According to Xiulote¡¯s plan, all craftsmen involved in important projects would be moved here to form a new isolated community, relying on divided water channels. Within this community, households would be registered, samurai would be stationed to accomplish personal control over the craftsmen, and at the same time, sectors would be established, priests dispatched to strengthen ideological guidance over the craftsmen. Outside the community, watch posts would be set up, tightly sealed, prohibiting the approach of unrelated individuals.


    His line of thought came from the Venetians on Murano Island: isolating advanced production craftsmen, controlling the formulas for glass and mirrors, promoting research incentives, and minimizing the leakage of technology. Of course, it would be a full twenty-four years before the birth of the first Venetian mirror. And the secret of wealth from the Venetian mirrors would endure for one hundred and fifty years.


    The group hastened on, grand and spirited, winding through houses and waterways, and soon reached the lakeshore.


    Xiulote lifted his gaze and surveyed the surroundings, not far off was the shimmering water of Lake Texcoco. Continuous boat fleets worked day and night, the rowers sweating profusely, accompanied by samurai in armor, sharp and ready. They transported food and supplies to the northern camps, and then returned to the capital city carrying tributes from various states, making the round trip within a month, alternating back and forth, extending the Empire¡¯s roots to the distant places reached by rivers.


    The young man paused for a moment and looked to the north with a distant gaze, his thoughts flying far away.


    "A siege in October, and now the month is nearing its end. The Elder has postponed the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rites time and again¡ªis he perhaps awaiting news from the north? Reform ultimately requires the sacrifice of life, both ours and our enemy¡¯s.


    And the new year¡¯s tributes have already begun. Will the vassals to the north and south dare to refuse their tribute? The Mexica people¡¯s wars have never ceased, the Mexica people¡¯s wars are about to begin... What the Divine Revelation Place will bring is an unprecedented war to end all wars!..."


    Xiulote quietly watched the scene before him. Not far off, the commoners paddled small boats, dragging floating rafts of wood in the water, laden with fine-grained clay, turning from the lake edge into the waterways. Then, under the oversight of the samurai, they unloaded the timber and clay into this newly established military artisan area.


    Next, the timber would be dried and split into firewood to be used as raw material for charcoal burning; the clay would be piled up for tempering and shaped into brick moulds. The drying of wood and the accumulation of clay both took a considerable amount of time, often months, and the raw materials being used at this time all came from the stock. Splitting firewood, tempering clay, and making moulds were all highly labor-intensive processes.


    In the young man¡¯s view, hundreds of commoners kept their heads down and worked busily along the open banks, using rudimentary stone tools. Far away came the cracking sounds of wood splitting and the scraping sounds of mould making.


    Several tens of stationed samurai were scattered throughout the center and perimeter. They grouped in pairs, using blunt wooden sticks to spar with each other for amusement. On the ground between the sparring partners were scattered possessions, and the surrounding samurai watched intently, likely gambling on the outcomes. A little further away, a few middle-aged samurai leaned against the shadows of large trees, squinting as they rested.


    This place, far from the strict Divine Revelation Place and merely tasked with overseeing some valueless wood and clay, clearly had a relaxed discipline among the samurai.


    Xiulote¡¯s brows slightly furrowed, then relaxed again.


    The place wasn¡¯t of immediate importance, and it wouldn¡¯t be right to be too harsh on loyal and dedicated samurai of the direct lineage. Even though gambling had been prohibited by the teachings, it hadn¡¯t yet become widespread. Gambling had always been difficult to eradicate within military ranks, and as long as it didn¡¯t grow too large or impact military strength, it was reluctantly acceptable.


    And such a form of martial contest was indeed conducive to enhancing the samurai¡¯s combat power and venting their excess energy, making it worth promoting. As for the consolidation of military discipline, that would have to wait until before the battle.


    In an instant, myriad thoughts raced through the youth¡¯s mind. Then, he slightly raised his head, gazing at the blue smoke close at hand and the mounds of earth beneath it where charcoal was being burned, calmly waiting.


    A light and shrill eagle¡¯s cry echoed from beneath the trees, startling the stationed samurai like alarmed big cats, making them leap up at the sound. They looked around cautiously, and upon seeing the elite Guard Warriors, they quickly understood. The samurai, displaying remarkable talent in ball games, kicked the treasures on the ground with precision, sending them into the piles of earth and underbrush. Then they jogged to regroup, standing in strict formation. The middle-aged samurai under the trees also straightened their backs, standing guard in a staggered formation.


    Witnessing the samurai¡¯s reaction, Xiulote nodded slightly. The youth¡¯s gaze shifted and he saw an older middle-aged samurai walking steadily from under the trees. His eyes were like copper bells, his cheekbones protruded high, his body was sturdy, and he looked rather fierce, yet his face was filled with a familiar smile.


    Seeing the old samurai¡¯s kind smile, Xiulote also smiled faintly.


    This place was quite important in his future plans, naturally it was entrusted to Etalik, a trustworthy elder from the Holy City, and a civilian samurai. The old samurai Etalik, guard Elvi his grandfather, and saltpeter overseer Esko were all from the same clan and had guarded the Butterfly Palace. They had followed the Holy City¡¯s Royal Family for generations.


    With the expansion of the Holy City¡¯s lineage, these vassal-like private samurai were gradually promoted. They took up mid-level positions in various places, expanding the influence of the Holy City and also becoming a natural faction within the new military-political group of the Alliance. Xiulote¡¯s branch of the Royal Family, precisely by relying on these loyal direct-force samurai, was able to hold onto the real central power and establish a firm foothold in the Capital City.


    The covert opposition between the young man and Aweit was not just about the supreme power but also about the different royal factions. Both royal branches had their own foundations, connected by blood, yet there was a contradiction in power.


    Driven by the forces of different factions, they were unable to cooperate as intimately or trustfully inside and out like Montezuma I and the elders who were brothers. Only by merging the two royal branches into one in the distant future could they once again mesh together and reconstruct a balance of power!


    For now, relying on his direct-line vassals, Xiulote could implement his own will, rather than execute the King¡¯s. These vassal samurai, inheriting through generations, were a solid and united force of people¡¯s hearts, something that the rough-and-tumble heroes often lacked.


    Soon, Etalik approached the young man with a smile. He knelt on one knee and offered a blessing in a low, respectful voice.


    "Your Highness, I pray for you. May the ¡¯Heavenly Dog¡¯ protect the sun, and may it rise in the sky."


    Hearing this, Bertade¡¯s eyes brightened, examining the old samurai carefully and smiling kindly at him, to which the other returned the gesture knowingly.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and shook his head lightly with resignation. He meant to offer a couple of reminders.


    "Etalik, when stationed on the outside, it is still best to be cautious."


    Etalik smiled understandingly and replied.


    "Rest assured, Your Highness, the samurai may appear relaxed but are actually very alert. Someone is always keeping an eye on the key positions; nothing will go wrong with these craftsmen!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote observed the middle-aged samurai under the trees once more, noting their open eyes, the javelins they carried, and the positions they controlled¡­ The youth slowly nodded his head.


    After a few more words, Etalik respectfully led the way ahead. He pinched his lower lip, and the eagle¡¯s cry rang out once more, prompting the samurai to spread out and keep watch. The old samurai then led His Highness towards the smoke-wreathed charcoal pit, where the craftsmen, faces smeared with soot, waited reverently.

 Chapter 237 - 134 Charcoal Burning and Crows

    Etalik, despite his age, moved briskly and powerfully, speeding along like the wind. His step was precise, his limbs coordinated, and his strides were soft and supple. As he walked, the old samurai would lead with his hips, his center of gravity shifting ever so slightly, creating a natural and leisurely rhythm.


    Seeing this, Bertade¡¯s gaze sharpened, and he pushed off with his feet, running like a tiger. His long strides alternated, bringing with them a sense of anticipation for a leap, rhythmically harmonious yet bearing the pace of a leopard or tiger.


    Xiulote was agile. Although he couldn¡¯t compare with the two seasoned warriors who had been tempered a thousand times, he had fully mastered the running techniques of a samurai. As the youth moved, his muscles were seamlessly integrated -- flexible, fast, balanced, and explosive -- embodying the four standards of combat readiness at all times.


    In an era where ranged weaponry was weak and stone weapons lacked lethality, personal martial prowess was showcased to its fullest extent. Samurai training, spanning a decade, could firmly suppress militias several times in number, naturally advancing far in the exploration of physical enhancement. Unparalleled warriors could control their pace, entering and exiting disorganized formations with ease, while the militias¡¯ stone spears posed no threat.


    However, the charcoal before Xiulote, mixed with sulfur and saltpeter, was set to end the era of such warriors¡¯ dominance far ahead of its time!


    The use of charcoal in Central America can be traced back to the Teotihuacan civilization. In murals depicting feasts, the ancestors roasted venison over charcoal fires. Yet for the youth, the technique of charcoal production was an essential cornerstone of civilization. Charcoal could be used to make brushes and ink for painting, absorb moisture to predict the weather, and purify the air from dust...


    Most crucially, charcoal could be used as a high-temperature fuel, involved in the mixing of gunpowder and the forging of metals!


    While the invention of charcoal dates back quite some time, its quality and production rates can vary greatly under different methods of production.


    The essence of charcoal is carbonized porous wood, produced by incomplete combustion or pyrolysis. It is easily flammable, smokeless, high in heat value, and extremely low in water content. The quality of charcoal is reflected in its per unit heat value, which depends on the temperature conditions during carbonization. The higher the carbonization temperature, the greater the per-unit heat value of the charcoal, and thus, the better the quality. The production rate of charcoal is the efficiency of converting a fixed weight of wood into charcoal.


    In Xiulote¡¯s memory, the power of black gunpowder lay in the heat release and gas emission of the reaction. The sharply increased temperature would heat the large amount of released gas, exponentially increasing its volume and producing an explosive expansion. Therefore, the better the quality of the charcoal, the higher the combustion temperature it could produce, and the greater the power of the black gunpowder.


    In the field of metal forging, the biggest constraint of classical technology was insufficient temperature. The performance of gray cast iron would improve with a rise in temperature below 1500 degrees Celsius. Due to the addition of carbon, the starting forging temperature of steel was 200-300 degrees lower than the optimal temperature for casting iron, roughly around 1200 degrees, and then the finishing forging temperature would gradually decrease to about 800 degrees.


    To achieve such high temperatures above a thousand degrees, besides designing blast furnaces, the use of high calorific value quality charcoal or coke is essential.


    In other words, charcoal, a high-heat fuel, simultaneously affects bronze, ironware, gunpowder, and even the industrial age, and is an indispensable driving force in the development of civilization!


    Xiulote stood in front of a pile of smoldering charcoal, silently contemplating as he faced the kneeling charcoal burners.


    Seeing the calm prince, the chief of the charcoal workers inched forward on his knees, bowing his head to the ground.


    "Respected prince, blessings from the Fire God! We have just completed the pile burning of two heaps of charcoal, and we invite you to inspect them," said the chief.


    At these words, Xiulote looked up. In front of him was a blackened mound of earth, resembling a "grave mound" no more than one meter in height with a bottom diameter of roughly two meters.


    The mound¡¯s surface already had several cracks, hastily covered with fresh mud of a lighter color. At its base, there were several ventilation holes, presumably left for oxygen pathways, though they were all blocked now. At the top of the mound, there was a fire mouth large enough for two palms, still not entirely sealed. Wisps of blue smoke curled up from the "grave mound," which in the youth¡¯s eyes, seemed like an auspicious omen from Celestial Empire legends.


    Xiulote then turned to the side, where another pile of charcoal was already burned and cooled.


    The chief of the charcoal workers, with a face covered in dirt, gently urged on the workers, who collectively moved forward, scraping off the mud mound and pulling out handfuls of black charcoal. The chief sorted through it, picking out several glossy, hard, pitch-black pieces of good charcoal from the upper layers and holding them in his arms, offering them to the prince like a gift.


    "Your Highness, look, this is the finest quality charcoal! Hard, thoroughly black with a sheen, and it burns both hot and fierce. If you knock two pieces together, I guarantee it¡¯ll sound crisp and clear!" he exclaimed.


    Recognizing the significance of charcoal in matters of the state and military, Xiulote extended his hand to take two pieces, tapping them near his ear to listen. His palm quickly turned black, the familiar smell of charcoal invading his nostrils, and indeed, a crisp sound echoed by his ear. Memories from long ago surfaced in the youth¡¯s mind, and he nodded slightly.


    Afterward, Xiulote stepped forward, to the surprise of the charcoal workers, and crouched in front of the charcoal pile to inspect and evaluate the structure of the mud mound. Then he dug out two more pieces of charcoal from the bottom, which were slightly softer to the touch and lacked the black sheen. The chief¡¯s face instantly turned ashen. When the young prince hit the pieces of charcoal together, the sound was dull, indicating insufficient heat and lower quality.


    Taking a step back, Xiulote stood before the pile of charcoal, deep in thought. The chief stood by, carefully explaining the specific process of charcoal burning.


    Clearly, the technique used by the charcoal workers was the most primitive pile burning method, roughly on par with the tribal techniques of the Black African Continent. They would first place a wooden stake in the center of an open space as a support pillar, pile up standing wood on either side, then wrap the pile with leaves, coat it with wet mud, and leave ventilation and fire holes.


    S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 238 - 134 Charcoal Burning and Crows_2

    When the top flame vent is lit, oxygen flows in from the bottom vent, causing the flame to move downward, burning against the direction of the oxygen flow. The charcoal makers control the size of the flame by adjusting the ventilation; they seal up the vent that the flame reaches and then block the flame vent, until they see blue smoke emerging, which signals that it¡¯s time to cool down and await the kiln to be opened.


    After listening, Xiulote mentally simulated the specific burning process. Generally, the charcoal near the flame vent should be overburned, with the best quality in the middle, and the areas near the ventilation holes likely underburned.


    A moment later, he looked at the anxious charcoal maker leader and calmly inquired.


    "How much charcoal is produced from this pile of wood? Can high-quality charcoal make up half of it?"


    The charcoal maker leader paused briefly. Then, he quickly ordered the craftsmen to weigh the charcoal on a simple large balance. While glancing around and taking advantage of the prince¡¯s inattention, he kicked a few stones into the charcoal on the large balance. After a while, the charcoal maker leader respectfully reported.


    "Your Highness, eighty units of wood can yield fifteen units of charcoal."


    Xiulote did some mental calculations for a few seconds, 15 divided by 80, about 19%, the deceiving base twenty system. This efficiency was much lower than what he remembered.


    "Is it dry wood?" the youth pressed on.


    The charcoal maker leader nodded, of course it was dry wood, green wood would only produce a little.


    "How much of the high-quality charcoal you just picked out?"


    To Xiulote, only this high-quality charcoal was suitable for making gunpowder. Saltpeter was hard to obtain, and its production limited and purity not guaranteed. If the quality of the charcoal powder wasn¡¯t good enough, then one can imagine the potency of the gunpowder.


    "Five... no, seven units," the charcoal maker leader said through gritted teeth.


    Hmm, five units. Xiulote nodded understandingly; the first number he mentioned was more credible. Then he shook his head again, a 6-7% yield of acceptable charcoal. The efficiency of the charcoal burning was much too low; technical improvements were necessary.


    The youth recalled familiar memories once again. His thoughts flew back to distant ages, to the future of the Celestial Empire. Building kilns for charcoal, building kilns for bricks¡ªboth raw construction methods were fading memories in the countryside, glimpsed only in the fantastical dreams of his childhood.


    Xiulote became immersed in long and difficult reflection. Bertade, having prepared in advance, presented charcoal pencils and a wide wooden board for the prince to use. Etalik sat down with joy on the warm earth, legs crossed, paying close attention to the prince¡¯s "Divine Revelation."


    Xiulote focused undistractedly. He first drew an enlarged version of an earth kiln, doubling the dimensions and changing the shape to a square. Eventually, it would be four meters long, with both width and height two meters each. The youth roughly calculated, 16 cubic meters, estimating that it could hold 2-3 tons of dry wood. Considering the difficulty of logging in this era, he shook his head again and modified the dimensions to two meters in length, and one meter in width and height, for a trial of the specific design effects.


    Next, considering the ventilation holes and flame vents, Xiulote recalled two key terms: flue and fire passage.


    The youth first drew a fire passage along the bottom of the kiln on each the length and width, then erased one, leaving only the two-meter-long fire passage along the center of the length. The fire passage, connecting both ends, functioned similarly to the flame vent and was used to insert dry sticks to ignite the fire, thus turning wood into charcoal.


    He wasn¡¯t sure about the width and height of the fire passage, merely guessing and marking a size close to two handspans in width and height. Then he thought it out; the fire should rise from the ignition point, rising from bottom to top, so the ignition end of the fire passage should be lower than the other¡ªby how much? Well, also by two handspans.


    Next came the flue. According to the youth¡¯s analysis, the flue should be opened in the outer earthen walls on all four sides. The top of the flame is the hottest, so as the timber in the kiln carbonizes from top to bottom, the flue would do the opposite, running from bottom to top, starting at the very bottom with a width of two handspans. Then, the smoke would travel up the flue in the exterior wall and disperse through the smokeholes at the top, which are narrower above and wider below, facilitating sealing from the top. Hmm, the smokeholes would be roughly the size of one handspan.


    At this point, Xiulote had exhausted his scholarly knowledge. He thought seriously for a moment longer, the logic of fire heating and smoke channeling seemed sound.


    Continuing to ponder, he marked on the wooden board a few drawings of smoke: thick smoke, add wood and fire; lots of blue smoke, seal the opening and the fire; all blue smoke, extinguish the fire and cool down. In fact, these were the charcoal-burning secrets that the leader of the charcoal workers had just told him. In the end, the young man drew the vertical arrangement of the wood, but as for how exactly to place them, he left it to charcoal workers to figure out.


    The Samurai and craftsmen stood quietly around, in solemn silence. After a while, His Highness finished his Divine Revelation.


    Xiulote gestured to the leader of the charcoal workers, who came forward with a respectful smile.


    "Your name?"


    "Revered Highness, I am Koskachi from the Lake Capital City."


    Koskachi¡¯s face was covered in Huitu, making it impossible to guess his age. The only thing visible was his brilliant smile. His voice was deep and hoarse, most likely from being smoked over time.


    Xiulote nodded, the charcoal-making profession overlooked by the Alliance, of commoner descent, flexible in tasks, with a rough understanding of numbers.


    "Koskachi, I¡¯m entrusting you with a military task!"


    Hearing that it was a military task, Koskachi trembled all over. He bowed his head to hide his face, which turned bitter.


    "Lift your head, look here! This wooden board contains the design for a new-style charcoal kiln that I¡¯ve designed. You must build according to the arrangement shown here, especially pay attention to the fire and smoke channels! As for the specific measurements and details, I leave you to figure them out..."


    At this point, Koskachi¡¯s eyelids twitched. His Highness had only been here for an hour, and already presented a new design! He himself had worked for a full twenty years and didn¡¯t dare to change things rashly! S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote observed the leader of the charcoal workers¡¯ expression, sensing his disbelief in the hard-worked designs, and with that thought, the young man spoke with renewed authority.


    "Koskachi, the Alliance requires you to build five new-style charcoal kilns within a week, and then light them in sequence. The general structure remains the same, you adjust the technical details. No matter what method you use, your charcoal production rate must reach forty percent of the dry wood mass within a month! Quality charcoal must make up half!


    If you meet the standard, I will promote you to a senior craftsman at the Divine Revelation Place; exceed it and you become a Master Craftsman! One lash for each portion of wood missed, and if it¡¯s only thirty percent, then you may as well end yourself!"


    In Xiulote¡¯s view, the standard was not strict. Modern kilns could turn out a fifty to seventy-five percent yield from dry wood, same as the Ming Dynasty charcoal workers who could reliably produce around fifty percent. With his own era-transcending design guidance, all the charcoal workers¡¯ leader had to realize was the detail operation.


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s stern order, Koskachi first shook violently, then his whole body started to tremble. His Highness, however, heartlessly stuffed the wooden board with the task objectives into his hands and turned away coldly, heading towards the adjacent brick kiln workshop.


    The old Samurai, Etalik, showed Koskachi a fierce and profound smile. Then, he reached out his strong hand, patted the charcoal leader¡¯s shoulder, and lightly brushed his fragile neck, continuing to smile as he walked away.


    The top of the mound was still emitting blue smoke, but Koskachi felt icy cold. His neck skin shivered as it was scraped by the calloused fingers, giving him goosebumps all over.


    The leader of the charcoal workers stood trembling slightly, motionless, like a crow stunned by a hawk. Only after the figures of His Highness and the Samurais had receded into the distance did he suddenly turn and leap up, bellowing at the charcoal workers around him.


    "You bunch of lazy blackbirds! From today on, you all sleep on the kiln! If we don¡¯t meet the goals set by His Highness within a month, I¡¯ll be the first to pluck your feathers!"


    In the sky, a clever crow, lured by the column of smoke from the ground, swooped in joyously, circling above the bustling charcoal workers, echoing their cries with its own "caw caw".

 Chapter 239 - One Hundred Thirty-Five: The Blue Bricks and Glass

    Hearing the "croak, croak" of calls, Xiulote lifted his head and saw the black silhouettes circling in the sky.


    The young man watched for a while, his feet never stopping.


    By the lake were many Chinampas, floating farms that grew staple fruits and vegetables all year round. These crows, attracted by the food, were extremely clever. They would steal bites from the corn sprouts and eat the seeds underneath; come harvest, they¡¯d tear open the protective husks and gorge themselves on the ears of corn. The scarecrow deities erected in the fields could frighten away other birds but not the crows, leaving the farmers at a loss for solutions.


    "We still need to promote the use of bows and arrows, letting the Militia practice their archery... The technological developments nurtured by the Divine Revelation Place must not be interrupted by the Empire¡¯s crows..."


    Thinking this, Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but smile wryly. Over these two months, his mind had been filled with religious reform, power struggles, technology in farming... It had been a long time since he had purely enjoyed something, and it was hard to regain the clarity of heart he once had.


    "A Saint is originally the beauty of heaven and earth, achieving the logic of all things... When will I reach the realm of a Saint? Observing the world with a translucent heart, spiritually whole, like the crystalline clarity of glass..."


    As he walked, Xiulote approached the brick-making Workshop. Here a small kiln had been built, with some bricks being fired, some kilns freshly extinguished, and others already cooled down.


    He took a closer look; the kilns were about three meters high, resembling a barrel, with a base diameter of about two meters. The top of each kiln was slightly curved, with thick earthen walls forming a hollow, round platform. There were two small opposite doors on the walls for loading raw bricks and extracting finished ones, while the base contained the fire ducts for burning wood.


    The youth mentally calculated the height and the base diameter... Hmm, the volume of a cylinder is just over ten cubic meters, with a brick density of 2.5-3.0 tons per cubic meter, so one kiln is about three tons of bricks. Indeed, bricks are the most cost-efficient and high-yield building material!


    In fact, as early as 1000 B.C., the Olmec civilization had been making a large number of bricks for building houses. By the time of the Teotihuacan civilization, brick-making had reached its zenith in scale and skill.


    In the place where Xiulote had come to this world, within the majestic, ancient Holy City, stood the 63-meter-tall spectacle of the Sun Pyramid, topped with a platform tens of meters wide, founded on a base over 200 meters in length and width, the volume estimated at over 1 million cubic meters. Converted into weight, that¡¯s a total of 3 million tons of building material, with a small portion being stone and the majority being fired bricks! Between the stacked bricks, they filled crushed stones and binder, fitting tightly together, enduring for a millennium.


    The youth had climbed the 248 stone steps of the Sun Pyramid countless times. This marvel, built in the 2nd century A.D., used no metal, animals, or wheeled tools. All the bricks were fired locally. Upon close examination of the bricks¡¯ colors, he was astonished to discover that many were the hardy and durable grey Manganese bricks. Compared to red bricks, these were stronger, more durable, and the best material for such a marvel. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Having withstood more than 1300 years, the Sun Pyramid still stood as solid as the Divine Mountain by the Avenue of the Dead, and so did the Moon Pyramid.


    Day and night, the two grey-bricked pyramid marvels stood firm into future generations, astonishing every visitor who came. In silence, they upheld the imagined community of the nation, keeping the ancient civilization of Central America alive in people¡¯s hearts, rather than being erased from history as the North American Indians were.


    "To unite the hearts of people, that is the significance of a marvel!"


    Xiulote reminiscenced about his Holy City home he hadn¡¯t returned to in two years and also about the distant future he dreamt of.


    In this era, the Great Wall had largely been completed, with important passes reinforced with grey bricks. At this time, the renaissance Mongol ruler Dayan Khan had just taken the throne and was subsequently halted by the Great Wall, sighing in its shadow, compelled to focus his conquests on the Mongolian regions west of the desert.


    Like their advanced ceramics, the Mexica¡¯s brick-making techniques were already very mature. Brick-making within the Alliance was overseen by potters, and the manager here was Tanali, a female potter leader.


    Seeing the prince, Tanali quickly approached. She was about forty years old, robust and with a face that bore the marks of time, hints of her bygone loveliness still in her eyes. A striking and vivid cloak covered the female leader.


    Xiulote took a closer look, and on that cloak were depicted eight abstract babies with five Samurai beneath holding War Clubs. The youth inhaled sharply, bowed his head to Tanali. The surrounding Samurai also bowed respectfully to honor the hero mother. With such merits, the potter leader¡¯s prestige even exceeded that of the local Priests. She was indeed worthy of managing the potters.


    Tanali saluted the prince vigorously and then spoke in a deep, hearty voice.


    "Respected prince, the War God watches over us! Although this Workshop is new and its scale can¡¯t compare to the large kilns of the Capital, with me in charge, the red bricks produced will not be inferior!"


    Xiulote quickly stepped forward, lifting the potter leader to her feet. Then, the youth walked through the Workshop, listening to Tanali explain the brick-making process.


    "Prince, this clay for making bricks must be dug from a meter below the ground surface, for that¡¯s where it¡¯s soft and sticks together, fine and useful! The best way is to pile up this clay for several months, letting the wind and rain break it down, making it finer and finer," Tanali explained, taking a stride forward and grasping a handful of the fine soil from the clay pile to place in the prince¡¯s hand. Xiulote squeezed the soil to feel its texture and nodded in approval.

 Chapter 240 - One Hundred Thirty-Five: The Blue Bricks and Glass_2

    "Then, this soil needs to be mixed with water, kneaded repeatedly, at least five times. This step is crucial! Whether the bricks will be solid or not depends on how well this step is done!"


    Having said this, Tanali walked among the hundreds of laborers mixing the clay, waving her hands forcefully.


    "Get to work, all of you! Is His Highness someone you can just stare at? Today, I want you to knead the clay seven times!"


    The laborers, speechless, obediently bowed their heads and continued their work. Xiulote also nodded slightly; under Tanali¡¯s management, the laborers worked like well-directed limbs, organized and orderly.


    "Next, sprinkle a layer of fine sand on the ground, then pack the soil into wooden molds to form the bricks. The bricks taken out must be dried in the shade to prevent cracking."


    As she spoke, Tanali slapped a wooden shed vigorously. The thatch on the shed shook and fell down among the stacks of bricks on the ground.


    "After more than a month, when the bricks have dried, they must be fired. Start with a strong fire for five or six days, then slow it down to a low fire. It takes about ten or more days in total; once every brick turns thoroughly red, you can slowly extinguish the fire. Then, they come out as beautiful and solid red bricks!"


    At this moment, the head potter walked to a kiln that had already cooled, pointing forward. The youth looked carefully; busy laborers were extracting vibrant red bricks.


    Xiulote looked slightly puzzled and turned to Tanali.


    "Tanali, you have done well. However, I have seen blue bricks at the pyramid in the Holy City, which seem even more durable and robust."


    Tanali pondered deeply for a moment before responding.


    "Your Highness, the ancient temples were built with blue bricks, but the specific technique has been lost. I have tried several times and during the fire extinguishing, I sealed off the kiln, resulting in bricks that were a mix of blue and red, neither pretty nor much better than the red bricks."


    Xiulote thought for a while. The red in bricks is due to a high-priced iron oxide, while the blue comes from a low-priced iron oxide. Blue bricks are essentially well-fired red bricks that undergo oxygen reduction to change color. To achieve this reduction, one must isolate oxygen. Sealing the kiln isolates some oxygen, hence the blue-red color; complete sealing would mean... perhaps pouring water on it... Water, upon heating, turns to steam, creating high internal pressure that naturally keeps the oxygen out.


    Tanali watched His Highness, hmm, such a delicate youth, his contemplative expression resembled a beautiful hummingbird.


    After a while, Xiulote¡¯s eyes brightened, and he smiled confidently.


    "Tanali, when the bricks cool down after firing, first seal the air holes at the top of the kiln with clay, then build a water pool on top with soil and add water. Let the steam slowly seep into the kiln. After steaming it for a few days, let¡¯s see, those will be the blue bricks!"


    Upon hearing this, Tanali looked doubtfully at His Highness.


    "Your Highness, why add water during brick firing?"


    Xiulote was momentarily at a loss for words. After thinking for a while, he replied.


    "Firing bricks harnesses the power of the Fire God, transforming soil into stone. Adding water uses the power of the Rain Divine, preserving the bricks against weathering."


    Moved by his words, Tanali saw the truth in the priest¡¯s tradition. She bowed deeply out of respect and prepared to attempt it.


    Xiulote then thought again. Scaling up the brick kilns is a direction for improvement, but it requires increased charcoal production; the heat generated from burning at the bottom must keep up. In his memory, villages in later ages seemed to fire internally heated bricks by incorporating coal mud into the brick molds, firing from the inside out. If history had left this technical solution behind, it must have been tested through various real-world applications. The youth spoke again.


    "Tanali, go and fetch some powdered charcoal from the place where it is made and try uniformly mixing it into the brick molds before firing again to see how it turns out."


    Tanali thought for a moment, then looked up seriously.


    "Your Highness, by adding charcoal, are we perhaps invoking the power of the God of Flora?"


    Seeing the solemn expressions of both the head potter and the surrounding samurai, Xiulote opened his mouth to speak but could only nod solemnly.


    Afterward, the youth looked at the wooden molds engraved with various patterns. These molds were used to press designs into the bricks, with the most common being the Feathered Serpent and the sun. Bricks specially prepared for the nobility were lavish, depicting various family emblems, symbolizing divine protection.


    Having completed his inspection, Xiulote and the respectfully bowing Tanali parted ways. Then, the youth looked up, saw the sun slightly westward, still with plenty of time. He headed to the head stonemason Losano¡¯s glass workshop, located near the latest noble¡¯s mansion.


    The so-called glass workshop currently consisted of several large earth kilns, sets of obsidian processing tools, a master stonemason, and a dozen stonemason apprentices.


    Losano sat on the ground, cradling his legs with a furrowed brow, staring at the large pile of milky white quartz sand in front of him, at a loss. His stature was tall and muscular, his pose of embracing his legs reminiscent of a hibernating giant bear.


    The master stonemason frowned in deep thought. Ever since some noble forcibly recruited him to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion, he had had to abandon the production of profitable obsidian tools in favor of researching something called "glass," an unfamiliar term he had never heard before. According to the noble¡¯s instructions, he found this hard, milky white sand near the Lake Region, along with large chunks of hard, scratch-proof stone. This stuff was plentiful in the mountains to the east, especially near the volcano. He had each apprentice haul a bag back to the workshop. Then, when it came time to fire it as instructed by the noble, problems arose.


    "This stuff just won¡¯t melt! Is His Highness dreaming?!" Losano groaned while clutching his head loudly, his apprentices trembling quietly in a corner, not daring to make a sound.


    S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 241 - One Hundred Thirty-Five: The Blue Bricks and Glass_3

    Behind Losano, Xiulote¡¯s face was expressionless. He looked at the Master Mason and gestured to stop Bertade and Etalik who were about to step forward.


    After a long pause, the Master Mason finally raised his head and looked towards the apprentices standing still across from him.


    "What are you standing there foolishly for? Go and light the kiln, mix this stuff with clay, and fire it again!"


    The apprentices simply stood dumbly in front, with one quietly extending their index finger, pointing behind their Master.


    "You dare point your finger at me? You¡¯re turning against me..."


    Watching this scene in the workshop, Losano suddenly realized something. He leaped up, turned around sharply, and saw His Highness¡¯s expressionless face, not knowing when he had arrived¡ªit couldn¡¯t be...


    Thinking this, Losano once again threw himself to the ground with a loud thud, his movements as agile as a bear¡¯s.


    "Ah, respected High Priest!... I, I, Losano have been earnestly pondering how to make glass, I must have spoken some nonsense in my sleep just now..."


    Xiulote shook his head. He looked at the quartz sand on the ground and earnestly asked.


    "Losano, can you not melt this hard white sand? Have you tried increasing the temperature, adding some kind of combustible?"


    The face of the Master Mason turned pale. The High Priest had heard this too, which might mean... He opened his mouth, and after a long silence, finally spoke.


    "High Priest, I, Losano, have already altered the kiln twice, added more firewood, let in more air, even poured some oil, but the sand is still difficult to melt... It seems like plant ash has some effect, I¡¯m still trying other things." sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote thought carefully. He knew little about glass firing, only that quartz sand was pure silicon dioxide and could produce transparent glass. Quartz sand and quartz stone were products of volcanic activity and were abundant in the territory of the Alliance.


    The current difficulty was that the melting point of pure silicon dioxide was too high; he must find a way to increase the temperature or lower the melting point.


    The young man kept recalling, thinking of three keywords: quartz sand, flux, and stabilizer. Flux? Saltpetre and lead should be effective. Stabilizer? He didn¡¯t know what that was. After a while, he spoke seriously.


    "I will provide you with a batch of high-quality charcoal to raise the burning temperature. I¡¯ll also give you a small amount of saltpetre powder; mix it with the hard white sand and try firing it. Lastly, I¡¯ll add some lead to the white sand as well..."


    "Losano, colorless glass is very important for the future of the Alliance. You need to settle your mind, be prepared for two to three years or even a decade, try different formulations, and strive to make progress sooner! From now on, this will be your main occupation!"


    Xiulote stepped forward, earnestly patted the broad shoulder of the Master Mason. Then, looking at Losano¡¯s solemn, frozen expression, he nodded with satisfaction. He continued to look around, saw that there were indeed no results, then nodded and turned to leave.


    Behind him, Losano remained solemn and stiff as a statue, but gradually his mouth opened wide. Moments later, the statue thunderously fell to the ground, his burly body making a loud thud as it hit. The apprentices quickly rushed forward, massaging their master¡¯s chest and back.


    Xiulote did not hear the noise behind him; he had already walked far away.


    Lake Texcoco reflected the glow of the sunset, illuminating the young man¡¯s defined contours. His face was covered in dust, yet he still appeared composed and determined.


    Under the tempering of time and worldly affairs, the young man had been reshaped. His passion was hidden deep, like charcoal made from firewood, burning intensely yet inwardly. His will was as hard as a brick fired from clay, calm and unafraid of the vicissitudes of life. And when would his soul be complete and transparent, as clear and bright as glass? Perhaps, that needed more time.


    "I have already sown the seeds of technological progress, I still need time to wait."


    Xiulote thought quietly, looking into the distance. There, the golden surface of the lake rippled with sparkling waves, whispering and flowing through the centuries.


    Time would ultimately shape everything, including civilization and himself.

 Chapter 242 - 136: The Fall of the City and Conversion of Faith

    By the lakeside of Texcoco, under the burning sunset, Xiulote gazed calmly ahead. Behind him followed dozens of elite Samurai, and hundreds of bustling craftsmen and laborers.


    The Head Warrior stood still, guarding silently. However, the old warrior Etalik looked at the young man, silently advancing a few steps, smiled, and bowed his head in greeting.


    "Your Highness, do you have any further instructions regarding the charcoal burning, brick firing, and gemstone firing here? I will follow your heart¡¯s desire! I am willing to spur the craftsmen and guard the rebirth of the Sun, until dawn envelops the earth!"


    Surprised by the old warrior¡¯s candid sentiments, Xiulote looked closely at Etalik, observing the same flame in his eyes, and after a few seconds of silence, he spoke.


    "Etalik, how do you perceive this place?"


    The old warrior¡¯s smile faded, and he responded solemnly and decisively.


    "Your Highness, the laborers are merely the burning charcoal, sustaining the operation of the Alliance. The Samurai are the hard ceramic bricks, defending the Alliance¡¯s greatness. And only you, are the crystal-clear gemstone, bearing the Chief Divine¡¯s will, guiding the Alliance forward!"


    Faced with such an answer, Xiulote was astonished. He stared into the old warrior¡¯s eyes and after a long moment, he slowly nodded.


    "Well done! Etalik, you will indeed be of great use!"


    Upon hearing this, the old warrior bowed once more, his smile flashing across his face and then disappearing. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The lake water quietly flowed by, and several days passed in a blink. One morning, facing the first rays of the February sun, Xiulote dressed splendidly and set out again for Montezuma¡¯s palace. Soon after, he received an unexpected yet prepared message from the north.


    "What? The elders have delayed the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rites by two weeks? Xilotepec has finally been conquered?!" The young man¡¯s eyes widened, his tone rising.


    Aweit nodded. He stroked the soft feathers of the little golden eagle, habitually flicking its tiny head. Then, he smiled and handed the trembling cute eagle to his daughter, who looked expectant.


    Alisa joyfully hugged the little Aviloztli close to her chest, bursting into an innocent smile. Then, the young girl gently stroked the neck of the little golden eagle, and it comfortably poked its head out, proudly chirping "yo yo" at Aweit.


    "This news came through the night. Brought by the swiftest warriors rowing day and night: Seven days ago, there was famine and chaos within Xilotepec. Hundreds of Otomi Warriors opened the city gates at night, leading the Alliance¡¯s grand army inside, and soon the northern stronghold fell. When the Messenger set out, only the central Temple Pyramid was still resisting, which must have been subdued by now!"


    Gillim reported solemnly, standing tall. Xiulote glanced at the scarred wounds on his ears, then at the trembling shoulders of the Intelligence Officer, slightly puzzled.


    "Your Highness, you have accomplished a great feat!" The Intelligence Officer smiled faintly, then looked at the young man.


    "It was Commander Osellor who dispatched the Otomi Warriors you had persuaded, upon the suggestion of the encampment officer Balamo. They secretly infiltrated the city, convinced the stationed militia to revolt and surrender!"


    Listening to the Intelligence Officer¡¯s praise, Xiulote calmly shook his head.


    "After four months of the second siege, Xilotepec¡¯s supplies were exhausted. Even without internal support, it would have only last another month... How will the Alliance handle the aftermath?"


    Aweit pondered for a moment. Reminded of the past, he reached out, affectionately ruffling the young man¡¯s hair.


    "Xiulote, do not be soft-hearted! The elders have been waiting for the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rites for a long time. The Alliance needs a grand ceremony to appease the unsettled Nobility and to intimidate the vassals needing to pay tribute..."


    Shortly after, Xiulote¡¯s expression was calm, and he slowly nodded. Time relentlessly forged him, ultimately hard as steel, with softness buried deep.


    Meanwhile, in the distant northern stronghold, the sun rose once again. The brilliant golden glow shined on the burning Temple, turning past sacredness and faith into scorched earth, also illuminating the dim central square.


    Over twenty thousand civilians were herded to the left side of the square, many of them robust Militia. They were emaciated, marked by hunger, weakly kneeling and crawling, even lacking the strength to cry. On the right side of the square were over four thousand Otomi Warriors who had just surrendered. They were unarmed, lean yet still healthy-looking, only their faces ashen, devoid of the will and courage to fight.


    In the center of the square were two to three hundred Otomi Priests of various ranks. Dressed in black and white priestly garments, their hands bound with hemp rope, they knelt toward the burning Temple, weeping their last cries.


    On the square, tens of thousands of Otomi people were either blankly silent or weeping in despair, anxious about their forthcoming fate. On the outside, tens of thousands of Mexican Royal Warriors surrounded the square, full-armed. Their faces fierce, holding blood-dripping War Clubs and shields, they awaited the Otomi people¡¯s next move.


    In other areas of the city, teams of Mexican Samurai were dispersed, capturing thousands of elegantly dressed Noblemen and women. From all directions, they gradually converged on the main central path, ushering the softly weeping captives to the city outskirts for congregation. These people no longer had a choice.


    Against the stream of captives, the Poet Warrior Balamo, pulling a downcast young Otomi Warrior, whispered affectionately,


    "Natali, my good friend, do not hesitate later! Once you obey the order to kill the Otomi Priests, kneel to the Mexican Priests, and loudly praise the name of the Sun God! After all, the Sun God is also your War God, who you also need to praise on ordinary days."

 Chapter 243 - 136 Fall of the City and Conversion of Faith_2

    Hearing the Poet Warrior¡¯s words, Natali remained in a daze. In agony, he clutched his own hair, unwilling to look at the burning Temple, nor willing to look at the noblemen and women leaving the city. Since the betrayal by the City-State of Otapan, his heart had been filled with hopeless despair. Unable to hold on much longer, he and his brothers had surrendered to the Mexica army one after another.


    Subsequently, they were stationed in the mountain camps to the west, under the surveillance of the Mexica Samurai, and taught by the War Priests for a full two months. Then, a thousand Otomi captives were completely dispersed and assigned to different armies. As for him, he was assigned to Balamo, the Camp Commander of the mountain camps, and the Poet Warrior.


    Balamo treated the Otomi captives very well. He was honest and approachable, brave and good in battle, and could recite poetry fearlessly on the battlefield, the perfect epitome of both a Warrior and a Poet. It did not take long to win over everyone¡¯s hearts.


    During the siege, upon seeing the starving villagers, Natali took the initiative to propose surrender. Then, he risked sneaking into Xilotepec, persuaded his former companions, the Commoner Camp Leader stationed at the north gate. However, at this moment, when the City-State fell as he had expected, he was unable to forgive himself. Thousands of sorrows flowed in his heart, and his thoughts were too numerous and chaotic to put into words. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seeing his new subordinate¡¯s wavering expression, Balamo shook his head internally.


    "Such a fragile flower, still unable to endure the baptism of the cold wind! But after all, the flower is beautiful and belongs to my garden. Let me plant it, nurture it diligently, to make it my future support!"


    Thinking this, the Poet Warrior gave a melancholic smile, affectionately put his arm around Natali¡¯s shoulders, and softly persuaded him.


    "Natali, my good friend, look at these nobles!¡¯


    Balamo pointed toward the group dressed in lavish attire.


    "The city has been besieged for two years; nearly half of the civilians inside have starved to death, tens of thousands have become bones! These nobles still have no worries about food or clothes, their complexions rosy. They are like the high cocoa, who never took you common weeds to heart."


    At these words, Natali was startled. He raised his head and looked at the long procession of captives, observing them carefully for the first time. Indeed, although these men and women in their finery had sorrowful expressions, their cheeks were full, showing no signs of hunger. Thinking of the villagers¡¯ deaths from cold and hunger, a strange anger rose in his heart, reducing his guilt and sorrow substantially.


    The Poet Warrior watched Natali¡¯s changing expressions, slightly smiling, and continued speaking with his deep, magnetic voice.


    "Natali, those nobility Priests have never shown respect to you common Warriors. Throughout the siege, they¡¯ve been praying day and night for the gods and the distinguished ones. How many have truly led the common people onto the path of the Divine Kingdom?"


    These words pierced the heart of the young Otomi Warrior like a dagger. His expression gradually changed, as if he had found a reason to persuade himself, transforming the part of him filled with disgust and rejection back into a semblance of self-assurance and acceptance.


    "This war was caused by greedy Nobility, by foolish Priests! If the nobles hadn¡¯t refused to pay tribute, how would they have been subdued by the Alliance? If the Priests hadn¡¯t agitated repeatedly, how would there have been a pointless rebellion, resulting in last autumn¡¯s failed harvest? If the Priests and Nobility hadn¡¯t refused to surrender, how would they have been sentenced to death by the Alliance?


    "They brought war, leading the Warriors to shed their last drop of blood. They ate and slept well, while countless commoners died from hunger and cold! Now, it is time for them to repay all this! Seeing this, what do you have to blame yourself for? Xilotepec City is destined to fall, and by then, more people will starve. So, Natali, you have done nothing wrong; you are the savior here!"


    Balamo¡¯s convincing words sounded like a spring of fresh water flowing into Natali¡¯s heart.


    The young Otomi Warrior stood motionless for a long time. After a while, he murmured.


    "All the hardships, all the faults, all the hatred, they¡¯re brought by these people before me!"


    The Poet Warrior listened carefully, then smiled in satisfaction and hugged Natali¡¯s shoulders even tighter.


    "Go on, Natali, my friend. Use the weapon in your hand to execute the true sinners! Pray devoutly to the Sun God, and the Chief Divine will forgive all your sins and guide the departed spirits to Heaven."


    "I am not wrong; it is their fault! The War God will illuminate everything!"


    Natali repeated to himself. Thinking of this explanation, he felt as if he had grabbed onto a log in the deep Tampen River and suddenly felt the strength in his hands. The more he thought in this direction, the more settled his heart became, until he reached the central plaza.


    Seeing the arrival of a thousand Otomi captives, the accompanying Mexica Priests at last stepped into the plaza. They erected the altar for the Sun God, lit the raging Sacred Fire, and sang in unison below the flames. Soon, the Mexica Samurai around them began to sing as well. They beat their War Clubs against their shields in a neat, resounding call and response. The chanting then suddenly elevated, sky-scraping, carrying the terrifying sound of tigers roaring and eagles screeching!


    Seeing the grand Sacrificial Rite begin, the Otomi commoners lay prostrate in fear, and the Otomi Warriors on the other side also turned pale, deeply shaken in their hearts. Only the Otomi Priests in the middle suddenly became furious, crying out loudly, only to be drowned out by even more intense howling.


    In the middle, surrounded by Mexica Samurai, Commander Osellor listened contentedly for a moment. Then, with a powerful forward sweep of his hand, the low beat of drums began. In the Nava language, Osellor means Jaguar, a swift beast, and an elite Warrior. This noble name also circulated only within the Royal Family of the Mexica.

 Chapter 244 - 136: Fall of the City and Conversion of Faith_3

    Hearing the sudden drumbeats, Balamo quickly patted Natali¡¯s shoulder, handed him a black obsidian long dagger, and then fiercely pushed him forward.


    Staggering forward, Natali took the lead from among the Otomi warriors, and under the watchful eyes of tens of thousands of civilians and samurai, he shakily ran toward the group of priests at the center.


    At that moment, the young Otomi warrior felt as though he was walking on clouds, in a dreamlike stupor. The fear of the gods that had accumulated over more than two decades suddenly surged in his heart. As he looked at the holy and exalted priests, his pace faltered slightly. Then, the deep voice of Balamo echoed in his heart once more, as if endowed with some strange magic power.


    "They... guilty... killing... me... not guilty... saving..." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Muttering frantically under his breath, Natali finally approached the head priest at the forefront. The face of the priest, akin to that of a divine being, was filled with furious rage directed at him.


    "You who betrayed the Primordial God! You will forever fall into... urgh... ah..."


    With a snick, Natali thrust the dagger forcefully, piercing the chest of the head priest. His hand trembling, he had missed the vital spot of the heart, and the priest screamed in agony as he slumped sideways. Natali pulled out the weapon and stabbed again, but the blade¡¯s tip veered off course, still not delivering a fatal blow. Finally, with eyes reddened, the young Otomi warrior gripped the long dagger sideways and slashed at the neck above the chest, giving his adversary a merciful end.


    This all-out slash not only cut through flesh but also through the final resistance in Natali¡¯s heart, unleashing fresh blood and carrying away all the guilt within him. He had finally obtained a new life.


    With a contorted face and fierce eyes, Natali swept his gaze across the plaza until it fell upon the Mexica priest beside the Sacred Fire. Only then did he come somewhat to his senses, threw the dagger away with a trembling hand, and, drawn toward the light in his heart, stumbled a few steps forward and fell to his knees before the priest.


    "Huitzilopochtli, Huitzilopochtli! Huitzilopochtli!!!"


    Natali cried out with fervor, then collapsed to the ground, his face against the earth, whispering the last three words.


    "... save me..."


    "Excellent, very excellent!" Commander Osellor laughed heartily, swinging his war club with a whistling wind.


    He was exceptionally pleased with Natali. This Otomi warrior was the first to rush out in front of tens of thousands of Otomi people and, without hesitation, he decisively killed the chief priest in the city, completely severing ties with the past. His methods were vicious and decisive, his will resolute, and he held such devout belief in the Sun God!


    "Record the name of this Otomi warrior! I will promote him to the new hereditary nobility, arrange a marriage for him with a Mexica noblewoman, and hand over a battalion of a thousand Otomi warriors to him!"


    Osellor ordered to his guards with an authoritative voice, setting an example for all Otomi people to be the most loyal vassals of the Alliance.


    Not far away, the poet warrior Balamo stared, dumbfounded, at the scene unfolding before him.


    "Heavenly Divine, is this... this... The flower that was just planted in the garden has suddenly grown into a tall tree? Have my eyes been blinded, or have the hearts of people been deceived?!"


    The Sacred Fires blazed brightly. A thousand long-surrendered Otomi warriors were finally inspired, breaking free from their last shackles, no longer constrained. They roared and surged forward, and soon, the chanting of the Otomi priests, along with their blood, seeped into the deep soil. Not far off, the burning Temple was nearing its end.


    In the forefront, Natali still lay prostrate in front of the Sacred Fire. He murmured silently, utterly immersed in his vision, feeling the complete light and warmth. And behind him, more and more Otomi warriors knelt down¡ªdozens, hundreds, thousands... until the future of the north was set!

 Chapter 245 - 137: Cutting Hair, Blood Oath, and Conquest

    The morning sun ascended into the sky, its light spreading across the earth. The chanting of Mexica priests resonated between heaven and earth, becoming the sole bridge between god and man.


    In the central square of Xilotepec, the priests of Otomi had just been sacrificially offered, and the grand sacrificial ceremony was about to reach its climax.


    Watching the one thousand kneeling Otomi warriors, observing their blood-stained hands, Commander Osellor nodded with satisfaction and laughed heartily.


    "Good, very good! Someone, go call Elder Priest Uguel to preside over the sacred conversion ceremony!"


    The guard respectfully withdrew. Soon, Elder Priest Uguel arrived, clad in the heavy solemnity of the Obsidian Divine Armor, holding the Emerald Divine Staff, and walked with firm, assured steps.


    From a distance of several dozen steps, the gemstone¡¯s crown dazzled brilliantly, enveloping his broad forehead, the magnificent plumes fanning out into the sky, the tips shading his chubby cheeks. At that moment, Elder Priest Uguel resembled an envoy of the Heavenly Divine on earth, intertwining divinity with humanity, majestically indescribable.


    Commander Osellor bowed his head in respect to the Elder Priest, who gently tapped his staff in reply to his friend of many decades. Then, the priest ascended the divine platform, extending his staff again to touch the Sacred Fire below.


    Several dozen junior priests respectfully approached, carrying the mysterious yellow Stone of the Dead. First, the priests placed several huge sacrificial pots before the divine platform, pouring in barrels of tequila. Next, using the flames of the Sacred Fire, they arranged several widely spaced firepits across the square. Finally, they stood solemnly before the firepits, with several cups for the sacrificial liquor at their feet. At each side of every priest stood four Temple Guards dressed in Black Wolf War Clothes, holding shields and batons, devoutly guarding their faith.


    Accompanying him, a Third Level High Priest quickly came forward and knelt to inquire.


    "Esteemed Supreme High Priest, which type of sacrifice should be used for the Blood Oath?"


    Uguel¡¯s face remained impassive as he issued his command in a deep voice.


    "This is the first collective conversion since the Supreme God¡¯s ascension, naturally, the highest standard of Divine Descendants should be used. Go find Osellor, it will require at least a month¡¯s count!"


    The High Priest nodded and stepped back. Soon, he approached Commander Osellor, saluted, and relayed the message. Upon hearing this, Osellor slightly started, looking up towards Uguel, who was also looking his way. The commander, seeing his dignified and serious old friend, helplessly nodded and quietly instructed his guard.


    "Bring a squad of Divine Descendants from the Royal Family, try to gather twenty people." S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Surprise flashed across the guard¡¯s face. Then, he respectfully withdrew to find the warriors in charge of the supervision.


    Time silently passed, and the song of the Mexica priests echoed between heaven and earth. The Otomi people were oblivious to their fate, staring blankly in all directions. Suddenly, they began to shout and scream, only to be mercilessly suppressed by Mexica warriors.


    A squad of elite Eagle Warriors then escorted twenty Otomi Divine Descendants to the central square. This was the highest lineage of the Royal Family of the City-State, having ruled Xilotepec for a century, another embodiment of the Otomi people¡¯s faith.


    Several mid-level priests immediately came forward and directly led the Divine Descendants to the divine platform.


    Under the incredulous gazes of all Otomi people, the Divine Descendants had already realized their fate. Some were generous, some angry, some fearful, some in tears... whether silent or vocal, calm or trembling, all were destined for eternal oblivion.


    In the square, the priests¡¯ chanting suddenly grew louder, the warriors¡¯ drumming surged again, the Divine Descendants¡¯ cries of agony rose then gradually weakened, while the Otomi people were left in silent despair. They watched as vibrant vitality quickly drained away, waiting until the sacrificial pots were filled with bright red, pulsating fuel that was then thrown into the blazing Sacred Fire, burning away all the spiritual refuge of the Otomi people.


    Soon, the cups of the sacrificial liquor were filled with fresh crimson sacred drink, placed before the several firepits.


    Uguel looked up at the sky, the sun had risen to its zenith, bursting with limitless light and heat. The Elder Priest slightly nodded his head. He waved his staff, and all sounds stopped, leaving only the Supreme God¡¯s words between heaven and earth!


    "Praise my God Huitzilopochtli! His might is boundless, supreme and grand. From the past to the future, controlling all that exists, until the end of days...


    ...Those who obey my God will ascend to Heaven, receive forgiveness, and enjoy eternal tranquility! Those who defy my God will sink into the Abyss, turn into Jin Shi, and never be freed!...


    Otomi people, offer your entire being to the Supreme God, henceforth wash away all sins, and enjoy eternal light!"


    Hearing ¡¯eternal light,¡¯ Natali, who had been prostrate for a long time, finally lifted his head. He saw the Mexica priests adding the bright yellow Divine Objects into the Sacred Fire, turning the flames a deep blue. A gust of wind blew, the sacred aura hitting him face on, making him shed tears of devotion.


    Natali struggled to his feet, and under the escort of the warriors, he briskly walked toward the Sacred Fire. Upon arriving at the firepit, he faced the smiling middle-aged priest and knelt down again with devotion.


    Bravo smiled and nodded. He looked at the young Otomi warrior, his eyes full of benevolence.


    After that encounter with His Highness, his fortune had suddenly turned. The Priesthood of the Capital City first sent people to recruit and inquired much about the local nobility, with the middle-aged priest replying in detail. Soon, he received the opportunity to study literacy, then to learn new doctrines, mastering benevolence and divine expressions. This time, he had even followed Supreme High Priest Uguel north, serving as a First Level assistant in the grand conversion ceremony of Xilotepec.

 Chapter 246 - 137: Cutting Hair, Blood Oath, and Conquest_2

    "My child, come, cut a lock of your hair and cast it into the sacred fire before you. From this moment on, under the witness of the chief divine, you shall burn away your past transgressions and offer your wholehearted devotion to embrace the light of the chief divine!"


    The middle-aged priest¡¯s voice was magnetic and gentle, seducing the heart with his words.


    Natali¡¯s spirit was uplifted. Under the watchful eyes of the Temple Guards, he took the Obsidian¡¯s short dagger without hesitation, cut off a lock of his hair, and then threw it into the fire basin.


    Watching his black hair burn and smelling the scent of charring, the young Samurai felt a sudden release on his shoulders. The darkness in his heart was slowly consumed by the sacred ritual, and the light in his chest began to bloom with the warmth of the flames.


    "I...devote...faith, I...sinless...light..."


    Natali murmured repeatedly, his eyes shining with fervor and a smile gracing his lips.


    Bravo nodded in satisfaction. This was a devout believer, perhaps even a zealot. It was unbelievable to have such faith only a few months after the first group of Otomi Warriors had surrendered!


    "My child, come, drink this cup of sacred wine, and pray to the chief divine. From this moment on, under the witness of the chief divine, you shall swear an oath to Him, receive a sacred duty, and shine the glory of the chief divine!"


    Natali was resolute. With even more solemn attention from the Temple Guards, he obediently took the Blood Wine and faced the burning fire basin to gulp it down in one go. Immediately, redness ran down his chin and fell into the basin, rising and scattering. This was the brilliance of the Sacred Fire, the reach of Divine Might, all-powerful. It could dispel the souls on one¡¯s hands, elevate the blood in one¡¯s mouth, and ignite the light within one¡¯s heart.


    Smelling the pungent scent and tasting the bitterness of the sacred wine, the young Samurai felt his chest warm and his heart beating strongly. He was infused with endless drive and possessed a new purpose and mission:


    To bring light to all the lost souls on this land where he had grown up!...to let them feel the warmth of the divine...for them to be like him...


    "I...accept...the divine¡¯s duty, I...disseminate...the divine¡¯s glory!"


    Natali whispered to himself. He clenched his fist, pressed his arm tight against his chest, feeling the heartbeat of his soul.


    Hearing this, Bravo nodded once more, impressed by the Samurai¡¯s promising future. He pondered for a moment before removing a brand new silver necklace amulet from around his neck and handing it to Natali.


    "My child, come, put it on, for it symbolizes the chief divine. Henceforth, you are a warrior of the chief divine, born for Him, fighting for Him, dying for Him! After death, you shall ascend to the Divine Kingdom!"


    Natali reverently accepted the silver necklace, carefully placed it around his neck, then grasped the amulet to pray. At the front of the necklace was a gold Sun Amulet, which had a stylized image of a Hummingbird resembling a simple "Dagger" carved within the sun. The Hummingbird and the sun, symbolizing the War God and Sun God, and now, He is the supreme chief divine!


    "The almighty Huitzilopochtli, I fight for Him..."


    Natali continued to chant, fully immersed, his eyes shining with an otherworldly splendor.


    Bravo marveled in astonishment, such a natural believer!


    Meanwhile, on a not-so-distant platform, Uguel also wore a smile, watching the Otomi Warriors who had taken the Blood Oath with satisfaction.


    Unexpectedly, these thousand surrendered soldiers were excellent believers. Their souls were completely cleansed and filled with a longing for faith and salvation. Just infuse them with the divine¡¯s glory and rebuild their belief, and these men would become the most zealous Temple Warriors, fighting for the Mexica Alliance... no, firmly under the control of the High Priesthood in the north!


    Soon, all thousand surrendered soldiers completed the hair-cutting and blood-drinking rituals. Everything progressed smoothly, with only a minor interruption.


    "Elder Uguel, one of the Otomi Warriors has no hair, how should we carry out the hair-cutting ritual?"


    The High Priest approached the stage and softly inquired.


    Uguel frowned slightly. He shook his heavy stone crown, thought for a moment, and said,


    "If there is no hair, then sacrifice a section of a finger! I seem to have heard someone say that this is another way to erase sins. Let it be so from now on!"


    The High Priest was momentarily stunned. He was learned and knowledgeable but had never heard of such a ritual. He looked again at the Elder¡¯s slightly furrowed brows and respectfully bowed his head before silently retreating.


    "Well, the sacrifice of one¡¯s own flesh and blood always inspires greater devotion!" S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The High Priest stepped off the platform, shaking his head silently, and hurried away.


    Next were the over four thousand newly surrendered Otomi Warriors. The Mexica Warriors divided them into groups of one hundred each, guiding them in batches to perform the hair-cutting conversion and blood oath swearing.


    The hair-cutting conversion, similar to a Samurai¡¯s loyalty, now meant burning away one¡¯s sins to pledge allegiance to the chief divine in the new doctrine. The blood oath swearing was an oath to the divine to take on the divine-distributed duty and spread the divine¡¯s glory. The Priesthood determined different standards for the blood oath based on the level of sacrifice to distinguish among the faithful. The blood oath ritual itself also symbolized a kind of religious qualification, and currently, the Priesthood did not plan to popularize it.


    These newly surrendered Otomi Warriors were pale and hesitant. In their view, there were many gods in the world and to believe in the War God was no hindrance. But to regard the War God as the sole chief divine from now on, to believe He was all-powerful, supreme, and that all other gods were merely his subordinates, or even just ordinary saints... this represented a massive shock to their cognition, a complete reformation of their beliefs, difficult to achieve in a short time.


    The Otomi¡¯s priests were dead, their Temples utterly burned, and the vast majority of Otomi Warriors chose to lower their heads and convert, burning the cut hair. Then, with the decline of the Divine Descendant¡¯s Royal Family, when the Blood Wine was placed before them, some Otomi Warriors could no longer endure. They excitedly grabbed the sacrificial dagger, and before they could strike at the Mexica Priests before them, they were forcefully knocked down by the ready Temple Guards wielding War Clubs.

 Chapter 247 - 137: Cutting Hair, Blood Oath, and Conquest_3

    Whether the Otomi Warriors remained silent or resisted, as long as they failed to complete two key rituals, they were ruthlessly dragged away by the guards. Then, these scarred warriors were tightly bound by the hands and kept under watch in a corner of the square.


    As Uguel surveyed the square, he quietly calculated in his mind. After the rituals were completed, approximately three thousand five hundred Otomi Warriors pledged their full allegiance, while over six hundred warriors were captured. These die-hard warriors looked furious, their gazes sharp as knives. They glared at the two groups of surrendered Otomi Warriors, their curses loud and clear, their words piercing the hearts of the surrendered like arrows.


    Natali, listening to the harsh swearing, watched these unrepentant warriors, his eyes gradually filling with murderous intent. Beside him, a thousand surrendered Otomi had regained their war clubs and shields. They wore expressions of cold determination, their intent to kill even surpassing that of the elite Mexica Battle Groups. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Such stubborn Otomi hill people," Uguel said with a slight sneer. He then swung the Divine Staff with force.


    "Praise the most exalted Chief Divine! Beloved Otomi Warriors favored by the Chief Divine, you have chosen to believe in the Chief Divine and have thus attained salvation, embarking on the path of light! Now, the road to the Divine Kingdom has been opened. You may engage in sacred combat with these misguided warriors, helping them to reach the blissful Divine Kingdom instead of plunging into the suffering Abyss!"


    Hearing the Priest¡¯s message, Natali raised his war club, ready to move forward to fight. Unexpectedly, Priest Bravo shook his head slightly at him.


    "My child, you have already proven your loyalty and bravery. Now it¡¯s time for the second batch of newly surrendered warriors!"


    Natali was slightly startled. Quickly, he looked towards the three thousand plus disheartened warriors, saw the Commoner Camp Leader who had opened the city gates for him, and strode over.


    The Mexica warriors around were about to step forward when Commander Osellor smiled and waved them off. Elder Uguel, too, turned his gaze in their direction. In the corner, Priest Bravo appeared thoughtful.


    "Weimak! What are you hesitating for!" Natali grabbed his friend¡¯s shoulder from among the crowd.


    "These warriors are lost souls beyond salvation, symbols of darkness! They¡¯re doomed to die anyway, so let us send these brave men off, allowing them to ascend to the Chief Divine¡¯s Divine Kingdom!"


    Weimak looked incredulously at Natali, who now seemed both familiar and strange¡ªwas this really the same simple warrior who once cared for his comrades and cherished his fellow villagers? He stared into his friend¡¯s eyes and saw a bright, clear light filled with steadfast faith, which left him momentarily bewildered.


    "Weimak, don¡¯t hesitate! For the Chief Divine, kill the enemy, release them, and illuminate yourself!" Natali paused, glanced at the dumbstruck Balamo in the distance, remembered the Poet Warrior¡¯s way of helping... He then stuffed the war club and shield into Weimak¡¯s hands and pushed him towards the corner designated for dueling.


    Weimak¡¯s expression changed. He walked slowly to the center of the duel, facing a warrior who was pushed along, empty-handed. They knew each other from two years of defending the city together, having weathered the storm and withstood the siege of the Mexica people. Yet, at this moment, when the opponent saw him, he unleashed a barrage of curses and, straining his injured body, charged straight at him.


    Initially, Weimak felt guilty and only used his shield to parry and block. But the opponent fought with all his might, viciously striking Weimak¡¯s unguarded back, attempting to snatch the war club from his hand. Pained and threatened, Weimak¡¯s eyes gradually filled with ferocity.


    Finally, as the opponent lunged with great force and was blocked by Weimak¡¯s shield, his body leaned forward with momentum, positioning his cursing head within the range of the war club. After a brief hesitation, the war club swung forcefully, striking the vulnerable temple with a thud. Then, with a snap, the warrior¡¯s neck broke at a strange angle, and after a contorted smile, he silently slumped to the ground.


    The rage in Weimak¡¯s heart suddenly subsided. He stood there for two seconds, looking at the twisted smile on the corpse, sighed softly, and then turned around to return. He avoided Natali¡¯s embrace, simply returned the war club and shield to his friend, and then knelt to the ground in a daze, subconsciously murmuring a prayer.


    "Chief Divine, most high and mighty... I offer my body and soul... wash away all sins... and bask in eternal light..."


    Atop the divine platform, Elder Uguel nodded with satisfaction. He thought for a moment and then encouraged the two groups of Otomi Warriors to persuade one another.


    Following the example set by Camp Leader Weimak, one or two hundred more warriors stepped forward. Armed with shields and war clubs, they fought against the empty-handed and wounded warriors, successively killing their former comrades. Then, guided by the Priests, the warriors devoutly prayed to the Chief Divine, seeking redemption and light.


    In their hearts, chains silently shattered, and a secret fire burned fiercely!


    Uguel waited a moment longer, seeing no more warriors step forward. He shook his head slightly, not pressing further. The Elder Priest counted briefly and found that there were still about five hundred obstinate warriors left in the corner, whom they temporarily set aside.


    It was now the turn of over twenty thousand civilians who had been waiting. Prolonged starvation had left deep marks on these people, their gaunt chests outlining stark ribs. They were like driftwood in the wind, their life¡¯s flame about to extinguish at any moment.


    Uguel swung the Divine Staff again. The Priests replaced the barely remaining holy wine with freshly heated cornbread. The aroma of the cornbread stirred the people¡¯s hearts, and a shocking desire flashed in the civilians¡¯ eyes. They had not eaten a feast for two years, not had their fill for four months, and some had not eaten for days. At this moment, driven by desire, they were herded by the warriors into nearly a hundred lines.

 Chapter 248 - 137: Cutting Hair, Blood Oath, and Conquest_4

    They cut off their hair, threw it into the fire, chanted the names of the gods, and ate cornbread. The process was so simple and quick; the only concern was to lead away the commoners who had received food to prevent them from lining up again. In the end, about a hundred people refused to convert and were directly stripped of their clothes, had their identities checked, and chased out of the city naked.


    Uguel was indifferent, leaving these commoners to their own fate. He silently calculated, then instructed his attendants and swung the Divine Staff once more.


    Soon, a group of forty to fifty commoners was driven forward, opposite them was an Otomi Warrior with his hands tied. The Temple Guards overseeing the event threw several obsidian daggers into the center and ordered the duel to begin, a fight to the death.


    What followed was a deathly silence on the field. One side was filled with fear, the other powerless. Until after a quarter of an hour, everyone was executed, and the vivid red pierced everyone¡¯s eyes. The commoners once again widened their eyes, facing the harsh reality they had to choose.


    The subsequent duels were much simpler and quicker; within each group of forty to fifty people, there were always those who seized the dagger, and those who decisively struck, killing the unarmed Warrior. Once ignited, the gruesome scene unfolded. The commoners surged forward, using daggers, limbs, and even teeth as weapons, tearing apart the threat to their lives. At that moment, survival left no room for hesitation or doubt.


    The old order was thus overturned, as were long-held beliefs.


    Balamo watched for a while, then shook his head in melancholy and sighed.


    "When ants swarm together, they can devour a toad whole, leaving no flesh or blood. What tremendous force lies beneath the docile surface of water?"


    As the Poet Warrior thought this, he turned his gaze toward Natali, only to see her clutching the Sun Hummingbird necklace, praying with her eyes devoutly closed.


    On the spacious plaza, dozens of duels took place at the same time. The Mexica Priests watched calmly while the Mexica Warriors looked on appreciatively. In each group, the first Otomi commoner to strike a Warrior was called out to represent loyalty, receiving praise from the Priests and assessment from the Warriors. Afterward, these individuals were gathered near the conquered soldiers, sharing complex glances as they awaited their upcoming rewards.


    The duels seemed long and dull to the Elder Priests in the Capital City. Uguel closed his eyes and rested for a while. Only when the sun slanted westward did the High Priest carefully approach and gently awaken the High Priest who was "communicating with the gods."


    When Uguel opened his eyes, he saw that over five hundred loyal commoners had been selected. Their faces bore the ferocity of life-or-death struggle and in their eyes the confusion from the crumbling of their beliefs, while their bodies were smeared with scattered bloodstains. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Elder Priest assessed for a moment, then swung the Divine Staff again. Bravo had returned to wait by the brazier, reigniting the flames to a soft blue. The Priests communicated with heaven and earth, drawing the remaining holy wine to hold the Blood Oath for these exceptional commoners.


    Time quietly passed, and one by one, the representatives of the loyal commoners completed their Blood Oaths, their expressions changing subtly, as if something more had been etched into them. The Royal Family Commander stepped onto the temple platform and discussed briefly with the High Priest, finally rendering the ultimate verdict.


    The one thousand two hundred Otomi soldiers with blood on their hands were rated highest. Having executed resisting Priests and Warriors, they were the most trusted force of the Alliance. The Commander spared no expense in rewarding them with Gold and Silver Feather Ornaments, Noble estates, and sufficient landholdings. Furthermore, they were promoted to the new Nobility based on their performance. In the newly formed Otomi Warriors regiment, they would serve as all the junior officers, and some as Warrior Camp Chiefs, leading a thousand men.


    The remaining three thousand plus Otomi Warriors would be granted houses and wealth and henceforth become Warriors of the Alliance. They would also undergo two months of rigorous training and, under the guidance of the Priests, rebuild their faith.


    The five hundred plus proven loyal commoners would become community managers for the Alliance, equally granted houses and wealth. They would center around the Mexica Priests of the new community to deepen the roots of the Alliance among the common folk.


    The final twenty thousand plus commoners would form communities, continuing as the base layer of the Alliance. They would till the fields, serve as Craftsmen, offer Tribute, and provide labor. Of course, what the commoners could do now was to follow the Priests, pray devoutly, and then receive the sustenance to keep them alive from the hands of the Priests.


    The chants of the Priests rose again, and the Warriors danced the War Dance to send off the gods. Uguel reverently saw off the Chief Divine, then announced: "The Sacrificial Rite is over, and the Chief Divine is extremely satisfied!"


    Upon hearing this, everyone prostrated themselves, calling out the divine name three times, saying goodbye to the setting sun with great reverence. The surrendered Otomi soldiers lay prone in the deep crimson glow, allowing the vibrant colors to fill their eyes and seep into their hollow hearts.


    Afterward, under the Commander¡¯s orders, most of the Mexica Warriors returned to the camp outside the city, bearing various riches, and those with exceptional battle achievements received yet another reward. Balamo then grabbed Natali, looking over this "newly sprouted great tree in the garden." He saw her expression calm, sitting alone cross-legged on the ground, still silently praying.


    "Natali, my good friend, let¡¯s go. There are new rewards outside the camp, and the Commander has specifically mentioned your name."


    Natali nodded silently. He looked around, but there was no sign of Wemac. The young Otomi Warrior just sighed faintly, then left with a firm gaze.


    The two traveled in silence, the Poet Samurai deep in melancholy contemplation, until they arrived outside the city. Only then did he smile gracefully, patting Natali¡¯s shoulder, looking towards the camp not far away, and the beautiful captives within.


    Natali glanced sideways and saw hundreds of Otomi noblewomen, dressed in tattered clothing, ranging in age from fourteen to thirty. Huddled together under the watch of the Samurai, they shivered and wept in silence. Occasionally, a Mexica Samurai with granted permission would stride in, pick out a desirable captive, and carry her away on his shoulder.


    "Natali, my good friend, haven¡¯t you always wished for a wife of noble birth? Come on, you¡¯re still young, pick someone young to bring back and treat well,"


    Balamo smiled faintly, wrapping an arm around Natali¡¯s shoulder. The Poet Samurai¡¯s eyes remained clear, his smile melancholic and time-worn.


    After a silent gaze, Natali gripped the amulet around his neck firmly, praying for a moment, his eyes regaining their brightness.


    "No, Balamo, I¡¯m going back to pray,"


    Having said that, Natali nodded to the Poet Samurai and strode towards the barracks.


    Watching Natali¡¯s retreating figure, Balamo shook his head. He sighed softly, feeling an inexplicable melancholy and a poetic mood rising within him.


    Then, the Poet Samurai presented the token given by the Commander and stepped into the fragrant tent to look for a stirring moment. After a short search, his eyes lit up upon seeing a pretty girl with bright, shining eyes.


    "What pure eyes, just like my pure soul. Such beautiful features, just like my beautiful love... Now, you are the new flower in my garden!"


    With that, Balamo moved forward two steps, took the girl¡¯s cold, soft hand, and looked into her deer-like pure and uneasy eyes, smiling with satisfaction and tenderness.


    Meanwhile, atop the temple in the city, Uguel sat cross-legged, watching the priests finish up, barely suppressing a yawn.


    "Finally done. Executing the irredeemable priests, sacrificing nobles of noble bloodlines, rewarding the noblewomen fit for childbearing, and then converting the warriors needed by the Alliance to our faith, converting the majority of the commoners..."


    Selecting loyal trunks from the warriors, letting them stain their hands with blood, severing ties with their past, appointing them as officers of the Battle Group. Selecting loyal roots from the commoners, also letting them touch blood, cutting them off from their past, to manage the community... There is conflict between the warriors and the commoners too..."


    "Then bring these loyally bewildered ones divine revelation and comfort, cultivate the faith of the Chief Divine, instill the light in their hearts... Hmm, these experiences of the wise can be shared at the High Priesthood meeting!..."


    Uguel laughed heartily, his round face jiggling, feeling somewhat proud.


    "Ha ha, I¡¯m truly brilliant! This should be called class analysis, differentiated treatment... I seem to have heard someone mention it... no matter, I still have time to learn!"


    At the thought of this, and remembering a familiar old friend, Uguel laughed freely again. Then, the Elder Priest shook his large head and, amid the respectful gazes of the priests, marched toward the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s camp.


    Undercurrents flowed in the Capital City, and he just happened to go and ask for an old friend¡¯s opinion.


    "Osellor is probably a little bit smarter than me... Maybe I can still learn something more..."


    With a light step, the Elder Priest walked briskly, and before long was far away.


    After a while, the sun set, darkness fell, and Xilotepec City had been conquered.

 Chapter 249 - 138: The Follow-up in the North

    Elder Uguel walked briskly, ignoring the traces of war along the way, and arriving at the still heavily fortified Xilotepec camp, he then directly entered the Commander¡¯s large tent. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Inside the tent, Osellor was discussing the follow-up rewards with his officers. Seeing his old friend enter directly, he helplessly shook his head slightly and had the officers withdraw.


    Soon, only the two of them remained in the tent. Uguel took off his heavy stone crown, dragged over the Commander¡¯s prized black bear skin, spread it on the somewhat cold ground, and sat down opposite Osellor with a plop.


    Watching his old friend¡¯s unreserved actions, a twitch appeared at the corner of Osellor¡¯s eye.


    "Uguel, this is a war trophy from when I campaigned against the Canine Descendants of the north; it¡¯s smooth, intact, exquisitely fine, and soft¡ªyou better not tear it."


    Because of his name, Osellor, unlike other Commanders, did not like collecting Jaguar pelts; instead, he preferred the bear and wolf skins from the north.


    Uguel shifted his body, felt the firm yet soft touch, and nodded with satisfaction.


    "Not bad, this skin is a bit more durable than the Jaguar¡¯s, it¡¯s more comfortable to sit on..."


    After the praise, the Elder Priest then looked at his old friend and laughed heartily.


    "Osellor, are you ever short of skins? The King and the High Priest wish to keep the northern stronghold under control; you might have to stay here for a long time, and perhaps you¡¯ll be directly enfeoffed here... when that happens, if you want bear skins, just go hunting in the north!"


    Upon hearing this, Osellor¡¯s expression became serious. He contemplated for a moment before speaking slowly.


    "That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m hesitating about. King Aweit has sent an Envoy to ask for my thoughts, and I wasn¡¯t sure at the moment... Uguel, I haven¡¯t returned for two years; what is the situation in the capital now? Over the past few months, the news has come piece by piece, I¡¯ve truly heard of many big events!"


    At this, Uguel¡¯s plump face turned solemn, and he too shook his head with a sigh.


    "What is the situation in the capital now? I can¡¯t figure it out myself. As I see it, it¡¯s a situation of murder!"


    So saying, the Elder Priest stretched out his thick fingers, counting one by one.


    "You see, during the coronation ceremony, we sacrificed thousands of Otomi people, which is alright and quite a spectacle. Then, on the day the ceremony ended, the Chief Priest died of poisoning, which was extremely frightening, and I couldn¡¯t sleep well for a month!


    And in just a few days, the Texcoco lineage was completely uprooted, and thousands of Great Nobility were sacrificed, which was tragic. Most of the nobility are having nightmares. And that¡¯s not even the end. After the New Year¡¯s ceremony is over, the remaining one or two thousand lesser Nobility and Samurai will be relocated here. By that time, people will be panic-stricken..."


    Upon hearing this, Osellor thought for two seconds and interjected naturally.


    "This relocation is actually very beneficial! The twenty thousand Mexica Samurai will be dismissed soon, and most of the Royal Legion will head south. There will only be five thousand Mexica Samurai left in Xilotepec City, plus more than four thousand Otomi captives. Given that the northern stronghold is a frontier place, and the Otomi population within the state is in the hundreds of thousands. If two thousand Mexica Nobility and Samurai could be added, I would have the core force to govern this place, and the situation would become more stable.


    Once these banished Nobles and Samurai come here, after we award them mansions and farmlands, arrange marriages for them, they will naturally settle down. And amidst the sea of Otomi people, they can only rely on the Alliance!"


    Uguel pondered for a while, nodding his head.


    "Yes, the elder is always right!... Now listen to me continue. Before my departure, the High Priesthood had just promulgated Noble Law. Immediately after, a thousand Temple Guards deployed, arresting over twenty hereditary Noble families in Tlacopan, on grounds of obstructing Alliance tribute. These three hundred or so people are all to be sentenced to be sacrifices. When I lead back more than a thousand Otomi Nobles here, the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rite will be another grand ceremony!"


    "What? A month has already passed and the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rite hasn¡¯t started yet?"


    Osellor was clearly taken aback. Then, after pondering for a short while, he said.


    "Uprooting the Texcoco Royal Family and cleaning up the Tlacopan line, does this mean that the Royal Family has now unified the Lake Region?"


    The Elder Priest was somewhat moved, shaking his huge head.


    "Yes, the Royal Family has unified the Lake Region, and so has the High Priesthood. The immortal Sun hangs high, the youthful Jaguar is warlike, and now there¡¯s also a cunning old fox... It¡¯s clear there has been early planning step by step! Although there are many Nobles big and small left, there is no leader among the pack of wolves. These Nobles, even though they make a fuss, really can¡¯t make anything big happen!"


    Then Uguel thought for a while and continued to mumble.


    "As for the delay of the New Year¡¯s sacrificial rite, it¡¯s the elder¡¯s intention, and it¡¯s for the sake of new religious reform. Many ceremonies will undergo major changes in this rite, and the priests in the capital are all extremely busy. The elder has also demanded that the ceremony be sufficiently grand and spectacular, waiting for the north to send the Sacrifices quickly...


    I thought, rather than busying myself to and fro in the capital, being anxious all day, I might as well take up this assignment and come to see an old friend in the north. Relax here a bit, live some comfortable days... Who knew the city would fall so quickly? I received the urgent news halfway and hurried along the way. I only arrived last night... it wore me out!"


    Osellor nodded in understanding, smiling as he handed Uguel a wood board covered in diagrams, then fell into thought.


    Uguel looked at the board, which showed twenty large boxes, filled with various brightly colored Gold and Silver, gemstones, Feather garments, and herbs and spices, and below were twenty little figures with distinct female features.

 Chapter 250 - 138: The Follow-up in the North_2

    Seeing this, the Elder Priest chuckled, his large hand patting his old friend¡¯s shoulder firmly.


    Osellor smiled and then asked,


    "Religious reform? What exactly do you have in mind? I find the priests you¡¯ve brought quite useful. After one ritual, the Otomi Warriors seem more focused. How about leaving some more priests with me?"


    Uguel pondered the question, which was rather difficult.


    "Religious reform? That is to say that the gods are omnipotent, and so are the priests! The High Priesthood is much more stringent than before. The division of clerical duties is extremely clear, with an increase in authority at the grass-roots level. We¡¯ve also expanded the Temple Guards, introduced new doctrines, and changed the sacrificial rites... From the upper nobility to the middle samurai, down to the lower commoners, the Priesthood¡¯s control is increasing, and in the future, who¡¯s to say it won¡¯t surpass that of the Royal Family.


    I can leave you half of these priests; they were originally here to help stabilize the north anyway. But the other half haven¡¯t yet completed their basic literacy. They need to go back and finish learning a thousand characters... Oh, and you¡¯d better learn to read and write too. Writing with script is much quicker than drawing pictures, although I¡¯m still not quite used to it... And the paper for writing, that¡¯s better than wooden boards, fast and convenient to write on, and quite comfortable for certain uses."


    Osellor pondered for a while and then shook his head slightly before leaning forward and lowering his voice.


    "I have heard that the death of the Chief Priest Quetzal was related to the religious reform?... His Highness met with the Council of Elders, and the High Priest took over, presiding over the religious reformation..."


    Uguel shivered involuntarily. He glanced around, peered behind the curtain, then turned his head to look at Osellor, his eyes wide.


    "Where did you hear such nonsense? I personally presided over the funeral of the Chief Priest. He surely died of poison from the Texcoco people, something called ¡¯death vine water.¡¯ These words should only be spoken here; utter them elsewhere is to invite death!..."


    Watching the reaction of the Elder Priest, Osellor smiled knowingly and nodded slightly. He continued to probe.


    "Uguel, my old friend. The Chief Priest is dead, and the High Priest comes from the Holy City, already old in years. Have you not considered taking over the position of High Priest at some point? I could support you."


    The Elder Priest was taken aback for a moment, a flicker of temptation and greed shining in his eyes before he remembered the horrid death of Quetzal and felt a chill in his heart.


    "No, not at all! What¡¯s so great about that position? Above me would be the immortal Elders, beside me the exceptional King, below the uncontent Nobility. One would have to wield great power, preside over the grand sacrifices, reform religion, coordinate all sides, and enforce the religious laws, offending the nobility. I¡¯d be so busy that I wouldn¡¯t have a moment of peace, eating without taste, sleeping restlessly, and who knows when suddenly my head might just fall off...


    I don¡¯t want that position. It¡¯s not so easy being the High Priest. Xutel is old, doesn¡¯t have many years left to live; now he¡¯s harsh and merciless, unafraid of making enemies. I, however, would like to live another ten or twenty years. When I could govern a region, that would truly be gratifying!"


    Osellor carefully caught the details in Uguel¡¯s words and thought swiftly.


    "King, Priest, Nobility, royal power, ecclesiastical authority, autonomy..."


    After a while, the Commander spoke cautiously.


    "So you¡¯re saying that now, the Capital City is like a boiling pot? The lid being the Elders above, the kindling below being all sorts of new policies. Religious reform, the implementation of ecclesiastical laws, reduction of noble privileges, and royal factional struggles; these are the blazing kindling woods. And in the middle, the water slowly coming to a boil includes the King, the Priesthood, the Royal Family, and the local Nobility?"


    Uguel was stunned for a long moment. He chewed on the words carefully and felt he had heard some excellent content, so he took mental note.


    "Osellor, you are indeed clever; the metaphor is quite apt! That is the very soup in which I find myself, looking for an opportunity to get out. Oh, you forgot one person, His Highness."


    The Commander pondered momentarily, recalling the past.


    "Are you referring to His Highness Xiulote, who killed a King, invented the catapult, Longbow, writing, and paper? What significant deeds has His Highness done of late?"


    "It could only be him," shook Uguel head. "Recently, His Highness has invented many little gadgets. These are not important; what¡¯s most important is that he has applied to the King to train a new legion!"


    Osellor was taken aback momentarily. He might not understand much about religious matters, but military affairs were his forte.


    "A new legion? A Xiquipilli is a whole eight thousand men, at least half of which are elite samurai. After continuous battles, where can the Alliance muster thousands of samurai from now?"


    Uguel shook his head again. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I don¡¯t really understand this matter either. But I¡¯ve heard that the majority of this new force is merely Militia, some archers, some with Long Spears. Now around the Capital City, the workers from the mines and salt fields have all been conscripted by His Highness, even causing a shortage of stone workers. So I came here with another mission, to conscript thousands of Otomi people from your territory to take back as laborers...


    Right, before the Northern army disbands, you also need to exert some pressure on the Vastec people, first to collect this year¡¯s Tribute, and second to forcibly conscript a group of Craftsmen and laborers."


    Osellor first chuckled lightly, a militia legion... then the Commander nodded in agreement, his smile fierce.


    "Of course! You can take as many Otomi people from inside and outside the city as you like. The Alliance always needs new fuel for various labors. Now, with food limited, we can hardly spare much beyond what is needed to support the samurai. When you go back this time, you must help me get more food over here. The Otomi people are in the midst of a great famine; having food in hand would help us soothe the civilians within our state, as well as attract Otomi Warriors and Militia from outside our borders..."

 Chapter 251 - 138: The Follow-up in the North_3

    As for the Vastec people of the northeast, I¡¯m about to dispatch Samurai to collect grain and wealth, and along the way pressgang some Craftsmen. With this stronghold, the Alliance¡¯s control over the Vastec will be further strengthened. I will also send legions to repeatedly sweep through the north and capture breeding prisoners from the Canine Descendants, thereby eliminating the threat of their tribal men!"


    Upon hearing this, the Elder Priest nodded in satisfaction, laughing in approval.


    "Osellor, the Vastec have always been adept at dance and music, remember to bring back a group of female dancers and musicians for me. In return, I¡¯ll send you a batch of southern spices and gemstones."


    The Commander laughed heartily, and affectionately patted his old friend¡¯s shoulder.


    "Uguel, we¡¯ve known each other for decades, there¡¯s no need for such formalities. You might as well leave me a couple of literate Priests to teach me writing and share the new religious teachings. Besides, I hear that the Capital City is mass-manufacturing Longbows. Is there any way you could get me a batch? We can negotiate the price. It¡¯s the best hunting method against those fiercely bare Canine Descendants!"


    After a moment of contemplation, the Elder Priest cautiously agreed.


    "Priests are no problem. When I return to the Capital City, I will also prioritize sending you all the compiled books. I can help you secure an extra batch of grain too. But the Longbows are troublesome; the King and His Highness are keeping a tight rein, with each one inscribed and numbered, stored in the treasury, in preparation for the western campaign after the autumn harvest. Right now, all the Bowyers in the Capital City have been conscripted into the central Craftsmen hub, leaving none to manufacture them privately. However, I should be able to get you a batch of Tlaxcalan Bows; they should be sufficient against the poorly clad Canine Descendants...


    Osellor, looking at these plans and intentions of yours, it seems like you¡¯re planning to manage this place for the long term. Could it be that you¡¯re ready to accept the appointment and take on the role of the City Lord here, laying down roots in this frontier land?"


    As he spoke, Uguel closely observed his friend, his expression turning solemn once again.


    Osellor solemnly nodded in agreement.


    "Uguel, after hearing you speak of the situation in the Capital City, I made my decision: to stay in the state of Xilotepec, accepting the King¡¯s appointment! In a few years, I¡¯ll try to have an audience with the King to see if I can hand over the land of the Capital City and relocate the nearest relatives, switching to a feudal tenure here. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Think about it, the coronation ceremony, the Elder¡¯s authority like Thunderbolt, the boundless bloodshed. The religious reformation, with the King and the High Priest¡¯s power expanding, and the nobility being continuously oppressed, creates a volatile and turbulent atmosphere. It¡¯s a seething cauldron, too dangerous to approach.


    Now, with the High Priest controlling the religious authority and expanding the Temple Guards, while His Highness¡¯s fame spreads far and wide with the construction of many new armies, these developments further unsettle me, fearing that turmoil could once again erupt between the two royal factions, potentially upsetting the entire situation.


    You know my situation; although I¡¯m born of the Royal Family and have fought for many years, I¡¯m just from a remote branch. When the King ascended to the throne, I was not brought back to the Capital City as a close confidant, nor do I have any ties with the High Priest¡¯s line. After much thought, remaining to defend the frontier is the safest course of action!


    Although this place lacks the prosperity of the Capital City, it¡¯s not particularly harsh or rudimentary. The Vastec people to the northeast are weak and wealthy. To the north, the Chichimeca Canine Descendants are scattered and powerless; the Otomi people to the northwest have just suffered a significant blow, and the Tlaxcala people to the southwest are still quite distant. To be stationed here, in control of the lives of hundreds of thousands, isn¡¯t it far more liberating and enjoyable than returning to the Capital City¡¯s cage?


    How about it, Uguel, do you want to come and help me, to take on the role of Priest leader here? Let¡¯s build a new enterprise together in the north!"


    Uguel hesitated for a while, quite moved. Then, he sighed softly.


    "Osellor, staying here is indeed nice, but I¡¯m afraid the Elder might not allow it. I¡¯ll find an opportunity to test the waters... Enough talk for now, Osellor, it¡¯s been two years since we last met. Bring out some fine wine and meat, and let¡¯s enjoy a hearty feast!"


    Osellor smiled and nodded, calling the guards to serve the food and drink, opening the tent¡¯s skylight. Starlight poured in from above, and the two friends no longer dwelled on troubling issues or pondered the future. They simply enjoyed the brilliant starry river, drinking merrily until drunk.


    The next day at noon, Uguel gathered the Priests, leaving half of them to establish the new Priesthood of Xilotepec. Then, he assembled the remaining dozens of Priests, along with the two thousand Mexica Samurai guarding over a thousand Otomi nobility. Thousands boarded the boats heading south, the large vessels swiftly sailing towards the Lake Capital City.


    Soon, under the Chief Divine¡¯s witness, a new year was about to officially begin!

 Chapter 252 - 139: Trial Production of Gunpowder

    The wind of February swept across Lake Texcoco, bringing with it a hint of chill. The winter sunlight was bright and dry, yet it warmed one a bit.


    Early in the morning, Xiulote set out with over a hundred escorts on a large boat of the Naval Forces to inspect the production of saltpeter and gunpowder. Dozens of boats sliced through the lake¡¯s morning sun, and in less than a quarter hour, they arrived at an island of heavenly fire within the Eastern salt lake.


    Small boats had already gone ahead to report; the saltpeter manager Esko had already led the people to wait at the makeshift port. As the fleet moored at the shore, the Head Warrior Bertade waved his hand and gave an order. More than a hundred Samurai immediately landed on the port, swiftly inspected the surroundings, then spread out vigilantly and stood guard with strict attention.


    Xiulote shook his head. More than two weeks earlier, the Noble Law had just been promulgated, instantly sparking heated discussions. Soon, the Royal Family and the Priesthood mobilized over a thousand Samurai to arrest more than a dozen hereditary nobles from Tlacopan, directly sentencing them to be sacrificed. Faced with such thunderous pressure, the nobles around the lake region were once again deterred, forced to fall silent.


    Afterwards, in the fiefs of the nobles, village Priests began to intervene in management according to the new Noble Law, participating in the collection of tribute for the new year. These tributes, which were doubled from previous years, flowed continuously from around the lake region, replenishing the increasingly tense treasury of the Alliance. Beneath the calm surface of the Capital City, undercurrents surged everywhere.


    The number of Xiulote¡¯s escort Samurai had doubled and the boat had changed from a swift skiff to a stable large boat. The Head Warrior became even more vigilant and careful, guarding the prince¡¯s side day and night. Only after all the Samurai had completed their inspection did Xiulote finally go ashore.


    Over half of February had passed, almost a month since his last visit.


    Xiulote looked around; on the outside of the island were the patrolling Naval Forces, and by the lake was a simple port. Streams of smoke rose from the outer side of the island¡ªthose were the bonfires for boiling saltpeter. Short-shirted salt workers busied themselves laboriously by the saltpeter pools and firesides, while a bit further were the resting thatched cottages. At the center of the island, there were already a dozen large wooden houses and several dozen small thatched huts. At the large wooden houses, one could faintly see long-shirted female workers bustling about, carrying various pottery jars in haste.


    Between the outer side and the center of the island was a simple circle of fences, dozens of upright wooden frames, and several flapping banners of the gods. Mexica Samurai patrolled inside and outside the fences, monitoring and urging loudly.


    Xiulote nodded in greeting, lifting up Esko who had kneeled to pay respects. He smiled slightly in approval and asked,


    "It¡¯s been some days since I last saw it, but this place is in good order and quite thriving. How much saltpeter is in storage now? And what is the daily production in pounds?"


    Based on the memories of his past life, the young man roughly revised the system of weights and measures. Now, at the Divine Revelation Place and elsewhere, weight was measured in pounds, length in meters, and time in quarters and hours. Of course, these basic units could not be measured accurately, but they were sufficient for the time being.


    Upon hearing the prince¡¯s inquiry, Esko¡¯s face showed panic. He bowed deeply, once again kneeling to the ground.


    "Your Highness, the number of salt workers has now increased to over a hundred. There have been improvements in the extraction of saltpeter, and the current output is just over a hundred pounds a day, consuming slightly less than two thousand pounds of saltpeter soil... As for the stockpile, there is roughly less than a thousand pounds of saltpeter currently stored..."


    At these words, Xiulote frowned slightly, his tone stern.


    "Esko, production has been going on for twenty or thirty days; why is there only a thousand pounds of saltpeter in stock?"


    The saltpeter manager bowed his head to the ground, replying in a low voice.


    "Your Highness, this is my fault. About ten days ago, a salt worker entered the warehouse, and somehow, the stacked saltpeter suddenly ignited furiously. Flames rose and expanded, blowing the entire wooden house apart, with large chunks of wood flying dozens of meters. That salt worker died on the spot, his body scattered everywhere. Several other salt workers around him were also killed or injured...


    Your Highness, I have already beheaded that group of salt workers, and their heads are hung on the wooden frames, urging the other workers to intensify production by day and night. Now the island is divided into two layers, inner and outer. The outer layer is for the filtration of saltpeter soil, with over a hundred salt workers sleeping right beside the saltpeter pools. One half of the inner layer is for saltpeter storage, the other half for gunpowder testing. The warehouse is managed by dedicated personnel, and idle people are not allowed inside..."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was serious. He watched the Holy City Samurai kneeling on the ground for a while, then lifted his head, observing the inside and outside of the island. The salt workers and female workers were orderly, and dozens of heads hung on the wooden frames in-between. The Samurai were conducting their rounds without a hint of slack.


    After a long silence, Xiulote spoke calmly.


    "Take twenty lashes, bear your guilt and seek merit. Speed up production, and do not err again!"


    Upon hearing this, Esko finally breathed a sigh of relief. He bowed vigorously before standing up, stripped off his upper garment, took a water-soaked whip, and without hesitation whipped it across his chest and back, producing a heavy, forceful slapping sound. Shortly, fresh blood began to seep from the Samurai¡¯s front and back, dripping onto the ground and staining his feet red.


    After twenty lashes were done, Xiulote gave a slight gesture. The Head Warrior immediately stepped forward, applying the prepared medicine to Esko¡¯s wounds and then wrapping them in steamed cotton cloth.


    Esko¡¯s face twitched, and he bore the pain to express his thanks. After only a brief pause, he then led the prince to inspect the center of the island. Soon, they reached the largest saltpeter processing site.


    The chief salt worker Moreno knelt reverently before the bonfire. Above the fire was a pot for boiling saltpeter, waves of pungent odor wafted through the air. At that moment, his head slightly bowed, his face had thinned considerably, the fierceness in his expression deeply concealed, much like a submissive house dog.


    Below that bowed head, the chief salt worker occasionally stole glances at the bloodied Esko, feeling a pang of thrilling retribution mixed with a subconscious fear and dread.


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 Chapter 253 - 139 Gunpowder Test Production_2

    Xiulote looked at Moreno seriously and instructed in a deep voice.


    "Moreno, do you have any improvements? Speak in detail!"


    "Your Highness, I have found that these saltpeter soils can actually be leached repeatedly. After leaching the nitrate, by putting an egg in the brine, we can determine whether the leaching is complete. Actually, we used a similar method when boiling salt before, but I only realized its feasibility after recent experimentation..."


    Moreno replied respectfully and quietly. He sneaked another glance at the fearsome Head Warrior and shivered inside.


    "Your Highness, I have also found that when boiling the saltpeter, in addition to adding wood ash, small pieces of pumpkin can be added to increase the purity. It seems that adding egg whites also works..."


    At this point, the leader of the salt workers slightly blushed with embarrassment. In fact, he had initially just wanted to boil some bird eggs while working... but accidentally stumbled upon some discoveries.


    Xiulote contemplated for a moment, then nodded slightly. These methods felt vaguely familiar and should be feasible. Repeated leaching and judging the salt content in the brine by the buoyancy of eggs. Porous media such as pumpkins and radishes can adsorb the particulate impurities in the nitrate water, improving the purification effect.


    A moment later, Xiulote¡¯s face broke into a smile.


    "Moreno, you¡¯ve done well. What reward would you like?"


    The leader of the salt workers once again stole glances at the prince¡¯s expression, feeling that his mood was quite good, and then hesitantly made a suggestion.


    "Your Highness, I haven¡¯t been home for a month; I was wondering if I could take my brothers home for a visit... Actually, I am more familiar with the southern trade routes than with making salt..."


    Xiulote smiled slightly, nodding and interrupting.


    "Good! Moreno, you have made a great contribution and will be promoted to a senior craftsman, rewarded with gold, silver, and cloth! Summarize your experiences in saltpeter making, and I will send an Assistant Priest to record them in a book, and your name will be noted as well. In the next two days, I will directly relocate your relatives and those of the salt workers to the community of Divine Revelation Place. You need not go home to see them; they will come to see you!


    Next, a batch of cesspool soil will be delivered. I have a new request: you must experiment with different methods to extract qualified saltpeter from these soils as well. This is crucial! From now on, settle your heart here and focus on your work, the Divine Revelation Place will not treat you unfairly!"


    Having said this, Xiulote¡¯s gaze was calm as he watched the leader of the salt workers.


    Moreno looked around at the warriors, then down at the blood-covered Esko, slowly and feebly collapsed on the ground. His heart still yearned for the vast lands of the south, yet he was to be trapped on a tiny island for a long time.


    "Your Highness, I will abide by your will... Can I, perhaps, have a wooden hut built here for me?..."


    Xiulote nodded with a smile and then turned, heading into the island.


    Passing through the wooden fence that divides inside from outside, the young man looked up momentarily at the displayed heads, then continued forward. Under Esko¡¯s guidance, he first checked the store of saltpeter soil, then tested the purity of the nitrates, and nodded slightly. Although he was not certain if this purity would meet the requirements for black gunpowder manufacturing, it was indeed slightly better than before.


    Next, Xiulote visited the newly-established gunpowder workshop. There were several warehouses here, storing pitch-black charcoal, bright yellow sulfur, snow-white saltpeter, and a small amount of newly made black gunpowder. The youth looked around, where a group of female workers who had been waiting for a long time kneeled and saluted.


    Xiulote nodded slightly, revealing a smile.


    Now, these women workers were in charge of the gunpowder¡¯s mixture and management, as well as the storage of saltpeter. These women were pottery artisans from the Capital City, with many years of experience in firing pottery, patient and meticulous, skillful with their hands. They were accustomed to precisely blending clay proportions, thus equally adept at mixing gunpowder. The making of gunpowder required precision and caution, down to the smallest detail, and these pottery artisans were most suitable for the job.


    Xiulote gestured for them to rise, and the leading woman worker stood up and looked up at the young man, with glowing eyes and a delicate face, her pale hands gracefully poised, smiling gently at him.


    Seeing the familiar face, Xiulote paused for a moment. After a brief thought, he guessed something and turned his head to look at Bertade.


    "How is she here?"


    The Head Warrior awkwardly raised his head and looked at the clear sky¡ªhe did not find a single white cloud to hide behind.


    "Talaya is one of the daughters of the heroic mother Tanali. After she last met with His Highness, she was taken into the High Priest¡¯s Mansion and then dispatched by the High Priest to manage the gunpowder here..."


    Bertade spoke succinctly, trimming the story from both ends and giving a rough overview.


    In fact, when His Highness had taken the artisan girl¡¯s hand and gazed at her affectionately for a long while without letting go, he silently noted her address and went back to report to the High Priest. He did so, partly to consider the young man¡¯s feelings and partly out of self-interest, hoping to insert some common girls into the young man¡¯s circle. After all, Xiulote¡¯s mother also came from a commoner background, and the future was yet unknown.


    Upon hearing the Head Warrior¡¯s report, the High Priest frowned slightly but still sent someone to ask for the name and to bring the pottery girl Talaya into the mansion, temporarily as a maid. As it turned out, Xiulote was busy all day long and never mentioned the matter; it seemed he had forgotten. Later on, during a grandfather-grandson nighttime chat, the High Priest verbally encouraged the young man to relax and enjoy himself, hinting at the matter, but deep down, he was very satisfied with the young man¡¯s response and therefore did not wish for him to engage in early encounters with the opposite sex.


    As operations on Heavenly Fire Island continued, the Gunpowder workshop needed a manager, and so Talaya was dispatched to represent both the High Priest and His Highness in overseeing the important task of gunpowder production. With this identity and her mother¡¯s prestige, she could indeed command the older potters.


    His thoughts whirling, Xiulote glanced at the Head Warrior sharply, before recalling the look the brick kiln manager Tanali had given him two weeks prior, causing him to blush.


    Moments later, Xiulote composed himself and offered Talaya a slight smile. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Talaya? Bring out the new batch of gunpowder you configured and demonstrate the burning effect. Be careful!"


    The artisan girl nodded her head and after giving a bold couple of glances, turned and went back inside. Shortly after, the female workers brought out several pottery jars, which contained the deep black gunpowder. Then, one of the jars was placed on the testing platform, surrounded by straw dummies.


    Xiulote inspected carefully. A female worker took a one-meter long torch, the cotton at the tip soaked in oil and ablaze. She approached the gunpowder jar as if about to ignite it directly. The young man was immediately horrified and shouted repeatedly.


    "Stop, stop right now!"


    The female worker paused in surprise, but saw His Highness rush forward, snatch the torch away, and throw it far off.


    "How could you directly ignite gunpowder? You should use a match cord to lead the fire and stay away from the explosion!"


    The surrounding female workers glanced at each other, before Talaya, who held the highest rank among them, spoke up softly after a moment.


    "Your Highness, this gunpowder is only meant to burn fiercely; there is no explosion."


    Xiulote paused slightly. He asked everyone to keep their distance and then attached a match cord to the pottery jar, before igniting it.


    After a short moment, the gunpowder in the jar was suddenly ignited, a vigorous flame shot up fiercely, bright and brilliant. The bright flames burned for several dozen seconds before slowly extinguishing, filling the air with smoke and the pungent scent of sulfur. When the smoke cleared, the young man observed closely: the gunpowder had almost burned out, leaving behind only a little black residue while the pottery jar itself was completely unharmed.


    Xiulote stood dumbfounded for a moment before turning to the artisan girl.


    "Talaya, what is the ratio of the formula you used?"


    "As per the instruction you left ahead of time, it¡¯s one saltpeter, two sulfur, three charcoal. That is, one part saltpetre, two parts sulfur, and three parts charcoal. The charcoal was ground into a powder and then carefully mixed with the sulfur and saltpeter. The subsequent batches of gunpowder all used a similar ratio, with only a slight increase in the saltpeter amount. It seems to improve the burning effect, but there¡¯s no explosion."


    The artisan girl replied in detail, her gaze fixed seriously on His Highness.


    Xiulote pondered in silence; clearly, there had been a mistake somewhere. Obviously, the Mnemonic Verse he had heard before had a different meaning and was not simply about the weight ratio of one to two to three.


    With this realization, the young man called for paper and pen and sat cross-legged on the ground once again. In crucial moments, one still had to search the memories in one¡¯s mind, deduce the chemical formulas, and complete the calculation of the molecular masses.

 Chapter 254 - 140: Derivation and Toppling

    A strong breeze swept across the shores of Lake Texcoco, brushing over the crowd on Heavenly Fire Island and gently fluttering the white, long feather in the young boy¡¯s hand. Blue skies, white clouds, and islands in the lake, followed by thin blue smoke and a youth in black... all appeared as though captured in a painting.


    Xiulote sat poised on the grass, a sheet of white paper flat on his lap cushioned by a wooden board below, with a quill elegantly skipping across, occasionally jotting strange symbols. Since the completion of the paper-making, his writing tools had once again evolved: white paper, quill, and blue ink, indeed a refinement over charcoal and boards.


    Bertade surveyed the crowd placidly, and the samurai dispersed knowingly to stand guard, patiently awaiting. Noticing the waiting female workers, the Head Warrior pondered for a moment, his eyes suddenly brightening. Immediately, he smiled and gestured for the pottery girl to come over, then handed her the ink pottery jar and stepped back ten paces.


    Taking the pottery jar, Talaya¡¯s eyes curved into a smile. Holding the blue ink jar with her fair hands, she sat close beside the young boy, her legs drawn up.


    Xiulote initially wrote KNO3 Saltpetre, C Charcoal, and S Sulfur on the left side of the paper, then N2 nitrogen and CO2 carbon dioxide on the right. Following that, he sighed sorrowfully and wrote K? S?... Why didn¡¯t I study well back then?...


    "Could K be K2O? Could S be SO2? What exactly are the oxidation and reduction processes involved here..." Talaya leans in to listen but hears only the prince¡¯s Heavenly Divine murmurs; she can¡¯t help but rise slightly, leaning closer.


    Xiulote, engrossed in thought, decided to start from the beginning by writing out the periodic table. He dipped his pen in ink, paying no mind to Talaya beside him, merely smelling the faint fragrance of the ink... Hmm, this ink smells pleasant.


    Soon, the young man began writing with an H, got stuck for a while before he fluently continued with C, N, O, F, Ne, Na, Mg, Al, Si, P, S, Cl, ?, K, Ca; then thought, let¡¯s leave something for future chemists.


    Xiulote looked at his masterpiece, a smile of satisfaction and confidence crossing his face. This would be a groundbreaking contribution, advancing humanity¡¯s future ahead of time!


    Beside him, Talaya opened her mouth slightly, utterly absorbed in watching the prince, captivated by that moment of confidence and flair.


    Lost in thought for a moment, the young man began to formally derive the complete reaction process of gunpowder combustion. First, if there are no C and S, KNO3 would decompose when heated to produce K2O potassium oxide, N2 nitrogen, and O2 oxygen, and the balanced reaction should be:


    "4KNO3 ¡ú 2K2O + 2N2¡ü+ 5O2¡ü"


    Then, Xiulote paused slightly, and below O2, he sequentially wrote S and C. Since there are S Sulfur and C Charcoal in gunpowder, but S Sulfur more reactive, it should burn first to produce SO2 or SO3. Then, when heated to three or four hundred degrees, C Charcoal would undergo an oxidation reaction to continue releasing heat.


    "Oh, K2O with H2O makes KOH, which is strongly alkaline. Since K2O is strongly alkaline... it should react with acidic oxides first, hmm, that should be SO2 or SO3..." Talaya¡¯s eyes widened and her ears twitched. Watching the mysterious symbols, she gazed at the prince¡¯s profile, imagining a divine communication with the King.


    Xiulote thought hard while writing down the equation.


    "K2O + SO2 ¡ú K2SO3... followed by adding O2 oxygen... anyhow, after complete oxidation, it should all become K2SO4... Then what? What comes next?" Talaya detected a hint of distress in the prince¡¯s words, as if the divine communication was proving challenging, and she too began to worry.


    The young man fell deep into thought again. He propped his forehead with his hand, pondering long and hard; at that temperature, the combustion should be extremely high, enough for elemental C to undergo an oxidation reaction, then the hexavalent S in K2SO4 should be reduced by C. In conditions rich with C, S should be reduced to the divalent state, ideally pairing with K.


    After much consideration, Xiulote continued to write.


    "K2SO4 + 2C ¡ú K2S + 2CO2¡ü"


    At that point, all the intermediate steps were roughly linked together. The youth thought deeply for a moment, first the unstable decomposition of KNO3 saltpetre, followed by the oxidation of low-melting-point sulfur, and only after continuous heating did the high-melting-point carbon oxidation exotherm occur. The entire reaction would produce a large amount of gases and release a tremendous amount of heat. In combustion, SO2 was the early oxidation product, and with the optimal complete ratio, the final product would be K2S!


    Logically, there were no issues, and Xiulote smiled confidently again. He dipped his pen in ink, then deeply inhaled the fresh aroma.


    "2KNO3 + 3C + S = K2S + N2¡ü+ 3CO2¡ü"


    This was indeed the optimal ratio for the complete combustion reaction of black gunpowder. The mass ratio of the reactants in the reaction formula was exactly the weight ratio of the three ingredients in black gunpowder!


    Subsequently, the youth focused again and began calculating molar masses; nitrogen in KNO3 was 14, oxygen 16, potassium... potassium was slightly less than calcium, calcium 40, so potassium should be 39, hence 2KNO3 equaled 202, 3C equaled 36, S equaled 32.


    Thus, based on the calculations, the optimal ratio for black gunpowder should be: saltpetre 202, sulfur 32, charcoal 36, that is, 74.6%, 11.9%, 13.5%. However, in practical explosions, charcoal often could not completely burn, so slightly more should be used instead of sulfur, making it 75:10:15, which was 15 parts saltpetre, 2 parts sulfur, 3 parts charcoal!


    Xiulote looked back at the Mnemonic Verse "one saltpetre, two sulfur, three charcoal" and realized that the "one" for saltpetre referred to 1 jin, which was the old jin of 16 liang, the "two" for sulfur was 2 liang, and "three" for charcoal was 3 liang. This precisely matched the calculated 15 parts, 2 parts, 3 parts.


    "So that¡¯s how it is!" Having finally deduced the ratio of gunpowder, a joyous smile spread across Xiulote¡¯s face. Then, the youth abruptly threw away his pen and paper and excitedly stood up, but his shoulder unexpectedly bumped into something soft.


    A gentle cry was heard as a pottery-making girl fell backward, her soft long hair brushing over the youth¡¯s face, lifting a breeze. In the moment of weightlessness, she stretched out her arms, timely grasping His Highness¡¯s arms, pulling with all her weight downward.


    Upon hearing the noise, Xiulote turned his head only to see the startled Talaya. His heart skipped a beat, and he halted his instinctual defensive action. Then, he was powerfully pulled, lost his footing, and his balance swiftly faltered. Within two breaths, he had completely lost balance and fell over with the pottery-making girl beneath him, followed by another soft cry.


    Xiulote was on top, feeling the softness of the body beneath him, his heartbeat suddenly quickened. He turned his head, before him were Talaya¡¯s bright eyes, her beautiful face, and her unraveling long hair, while his ears were filled with the girl¡¯s close breathing, and his nose was teased with a faint lingering body fragrance... the youth was suddenly lost in thought.


    Talaya¡¯s eyes widened, and as she felt the young man¡¯s body on her, her face slowly reddened. Then, she suddenly closed her eyes, like a waiting kapok flower, blooming with an inviting hue.


    Seeing this scene, the workshop became silent, the samurais looked at each other. Moments later, the female workers audaciously started to promote excitement. Everyone had solemnly awaited a "Divine Revelation" for a long time, yet it unfolded in such an exhilarating manner. Not far away, Bertade¡¯s solemn face disappeared, he smiled joyously amidst his weathered look. He quietly spoke, about to command everyone to back down. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Stunned for a moment, Xiulote forcefully shook his head, then struggled to rise from the ground. Then, he pulled Talaya up from the ground as well and carefully brushed the dust off her.


    Afterward, the young man took several deep breaths, then calmly spoke.


    "Every pottery jar 15 parts saltpetre, 2 parts sulfur, 3 parts charcoal, recalibrate gunpowder... not to be disclosed!"

 Chapter 255 - 141 Black Gunpowder and Gunpowder Weapons

    Xiulote¡¯s expression was serious as he gave the order. Everyone also straightened their faces and bowed respectfully. The workshop once again buzzed with activity.


    The female workers obediently followed the command. They used mortars and pestles, carefully grinding the saltpetre, sulfur, and charcoal each into a fine powder, then placing the powders in the mortar in proportion. Each batch of powder measured 15 liang, 2 liang, 3 liang, totaling a bit more than one jin.


    Next, Xiulote extended his hand, pulled Talaya to his side, and stepped back a few steps, signaling the women to continue. At the request of His Highness, they mixed all the ingredients with even greater care for a full quarter-hour before looking up at the young man.


    Xiulote thought for a moment. He dimly remembered there was a very crucial step that could effectively improve the burning efficiency of the gunpowder. After pondering for a while without inspiration, he could only nod to let the workers begin the test.


    Soon, the pottery jar was once again placed on the testing platform, containing the new formula of gunpowder weighing one jin and five liang. A few grass dummies were positioned at distances ranging from one meter to several meters away. A samurai took a torch from the workers¡¯ hands, lit a match cord a palm¡¯s length, and then, at the young lord¡¯s command, quickly retreated.


    Xiulote grabbed Talaya¡¯s arm and stepped back a few more steps. The pottery girl winced slightly with the pain and was compliantly pulled back, leaning quietly against the boy¡¯s shoulder. Then, she turned her head to look at him, her eyes filled with puzzlement.


    "Your Highness?..."


    Xiulote¡¯s face was earnest as he focused intently on the pottery jar. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Be careful, it will explode."


    Talaya obediently nodded her head, also turning her gaze toward the pottery jar.


    As the match cord burned rapidly, the gunpowder in the jar ignited instantly. Then, bright flames soared upwards, quickly reaching a height of two meters. Accompanied by billowing smoke, a warm wave of heat came forth. This time the combustion of the gunpowder was noticeably faster, and in just over a dozen breaths, the flames were extinguished, leaving the jar still intact.


    Watching the splendid fireworks, the pottery girl¡¯s eyes widened as she took in the unforgettable beauty. Then, she turned her head towards the young man again, her eyes curved in a smile.


    "Your Highness..."


    Xiulote¡¯s face flushed with embarrassment. He thought about the speed of the burning and the warmth of the wave, then nodded affirmatively.


    "Carefully cover it with the pottery lid, secure the match cord, and light it carefully! Everyone step back."


    The test proceeded quickly once more. This time, as the match cord burned out, there was a slight silence before the firelight flared violently. With a loud bang, the pottery lid burst into pieces, and the jar shattered along with it, as a bright yellow flame erupted from the platform. Immediately after, suffocating smoke and another warm wave, along with flying pottery shards, hit them.


    This colossal boom, like thunder tearing through the sky, struck deep into everyone¡¯s hearts and at the hurried steps of an age, pushing it toward a new and uncharted future!


    Everyone was momentarily silenced. After a while, the women workers knelt down, praying towards the source of the great noise, occasionally looking towards His Highness with reverence. The samurai felt shaken, and when they looked towards His Highness again, their eyes carried divine respect. Bertade¡¯s face turned serious as he examined the pottery shards embedded in the grass dummies. The pottery girl¡¯s face was full of shock; after being dazed for a moment, she once again leaned tightly against the young man¡¯s shoulder.


    Xiulote, too, gazed at the explosion of the gunpowder, marking Central America¡¯s first epochal moment! A joyful smile slowly spread across his face, his heart heaved with emotion, and a multitude of feelings surged within. Feeling the softness at his shoulder, he extended his arm and pulled Talaya into an embrace, hugging her tightly for the first time and whispering to himself.


    "I know... I will change everything!"


    The pottery girl murmured softly and leaned against the young man, her heart pounding fiercely, her body warm and weak, her eyes brimming with emotion.


    After a moment of excitement, Xiulote let go of the girl in his arms and headed straight for the testing platform. He examined the power of the explosion in detail. The top part of the pottery lid had flown almost ten meters away, the jar had burst open, but the lower base remained intact, with some unburnt gunpowder powder inside.


    On the closest dummy, at just one meter away, a few pieces of pottery shards were embedded, and the dummy itself was knocked askew by the blast wave. The grass dummy at two meters away was affected in the same manner. Beyond three meters, the dummies were almost undamaged. Observing the ground, the larger pottery pieces had traveled only four to five meters at most, and the smaller fragments, six to seven meters.


    Xiulote fell into contemplation. The power of the black gunpowder before him was significantly less impressive compared to the common fireworks of later centuries, and roughly similar in potency to the gunpowder used in the European countries of this era.


    At this time, on the Eurasian continent, the precise formula for black gunpowder had long been explored. The world¡¯s major powers were rapidly advancing the application of gunpowder, with matchlock guns and copper cannons already beginning to be equipped in armies for warfare. At the same time, Europe built many gunpowder schools in large numbers, improving the manufacturing techniques of gunpowder, with the research at the Tower of London enduring for one or two hundred years.


    And decades ago, a significant step was added to the production of gunpowder by the Shenluo gunpowder craftsmen, henceforth greatly increasing the potency of gunpowder and allowing for long-distance transportation.


    "What exactly is this step?" The young man was again troubled by this process. Then, he shook his head, considering the improvements that could be made.


    The power of gunpowder lies in the purity of its ingredients. In the purification of saltpetre, Xiulote had already pointed out the potassium nitrate purification technique, involving repeated dissolution and the precipitation filtering of wood ash. As for the purification of sulfur, the young man only remembered it was related to the melting point, seemingly involving heating to vaporize and water-cooling to solidify, but the specific steps temporarily eluded him. Finally, it was using charcoal with a higher calorific value. The craftsmen of the Celestial Empire often used willow charcoal, but unfortunately, willows did not exist in Central America at this time, though it seemed that fir and pine could also suffice.


    Observing and pondering, Xiulote sat down cross-legged again, with a preliminary formula for black gunpowder at hand, what weapons could be made?


    Bertade made a gesture to the potter girl. Talaya blushed, brought pen, ink and paper, and again sat close to His Highness.


    Xiulote¡¯s thoughts spanned centuries as he recalled the early gunpowder weapons that appeared in the history of the Celestial Empire. Any weapon requiring metal had to be abandoned, and the creation of weapons needed to be simple in craftsmanship, in line with the production level of the Alliance. Moments later, three names took shape in his mind.


    The first to emerge was the fire arrow plan that had been devised long ago. In the young man¡¯s recollection, this weapon should have appeared first in the Northern Song Dynasty and then shone brightly during the battle of Tang Island in the Southern Song Dynasty, suitable for naval incendiary warfare.


    The fire arrow with gunpowder was to tie a spherical, symmetrical gunpowder bag to the rear of the arrowhead, not affecting the balance of the arrow¡¯s flight. The gunpowder bag was made using slow-burning paper or cloth, pasted into a sturdy shell, filled with gunpowder. Then, in battle, the shell would be ignited with a fire cone and launched with a bow or crossbow.


    Considering the drawing force of the longbow, the weight of the gunpowder bag should vary by several tens of grams, and could be increased for close-range shooting. The purpose of the fire arrow was to cause ignition, so the proportion of the less-abundant earth saltpetre could be appropriately reduced, with increased ratios of charcoal and sulfur. This would slow down the burning speed and extend the burning duration.


    Xiulote nodded slightly. Gunpowder, paper, arrows, longbows¡ªall these were within the production capability of the Alliance. He took the pen and paper and drew a longbow with fire arrows equipped with gunpowder bags at the center.


    The second suitable weapon was ceramic caltrops, akin to the earliest hand grenades. This weapon appeared during the Song dynasties and had been extensively unearthed in the northern regions of the Celestial Empire, with usage seen among the Song, Liao, Jin, and Xia nations. It was a close-range thrown explosive weapon.


    The ceramic caltrops featured either a ceramic or porcelain shell, round with a small mouth and a large belly. Filled with gunpowder inside, the exterior sported ceramic spines. After lighting the match cord, the caltrop would be thrown several to dozens of meters. Upon exploding, the caltrop spines could kill enemies within a few steps, while the noise could intimidate horses. Considering its historical impact, this weapon, like something out of mythology, was expected to have a stunning effect on the various parts of Mexico, beyond the actual power it possessed.


    Based on the samurai¡¯s throwing capability and the explosive force of black gunpowder, the young man redesigned it. The weight of these ceramic caltrops should be like that of a lead ball, ceramic shell weighing two to three pounds, filled with three to four pounds of gunpowder, with a total weight of five to eight pounds. They would be thrown between ten to twenty steps, with the explosive force being within five to seven steps.


    If used from a defended position or launched with a trebuchet, large ceramic caltrops could be made, or the ceramic shell could be replaced with a paper one, becoming the paper fireballs seen in the history of the Song Dynasty. By adjusting the ingredient ratios, the function of gunpowder weapons could range from explosions to fire-setting, creating smoke or dispersing poison.


    Xiulote pondered briefly. Pottery was an expertise of the Alliance, and there were likewise many skilled workers... He then drew the design for the ceramic caltrops on paper. To Talaya, it looked like a large cactus spine ball.


    The third chosen weapon was the wooden cannon. This weapon appeared during the Song Dynasty, but was used by militias all the way up to the period of resistance. Wooden cannons typically had a range of several to over a hundred meters, with no accurate measure, serving as a medium to short-range firepower weapon.


    The construction of a wooden cannon was to hollow out the core of a tree trunk, commonly using tough pine or elm. A deep cylindrical hole was then carved out in the middle of the trunk. The hole tapered inward, with the interior being wider than the exterior and a depth of about one to two meters, with an internal diameter of roughly half a foot. In fact, a thick iron tube should be inserted in the middle of the cylinder to increase power, though it could manage without one. Without iron, the Alliance had to tightly hoop the exterior of the wooden cannon with a copper hoop and then wind it with thick copper wire. To reduce technical difficulty, no touch hole was drilled, and a match cord was used for firing.


    Xiulote calculated slightly, a wooden cannon would need a few to more than ten pounds of gunpowder for each firing, while the ammunition would be over thirty pounds of crushed stone. Before firing, a match cord needed to be inserted, and the muzzle would be sealed with cotton to improve airtightness. Its operation was very slow, but at this time in history, its power was nearly invincible.


    He then drew the model of a pine cannon on the paper, also noting the upgraded copper cannon.


    Next, the young man contemplated softly. Individually operated tube-like weapons were still too difficult a technological reach for the Alliance. The explosive guns and copper firearms of the Song and Yuan periods had a limited shooting distance, were prone to damage, and had an awkward utility, with not a low manufacturing difficulty. And the matchlock guns of that era in Europe were high-grade weapons the Alliance could not produce.


    Now, long-range cold weapons still held absolute dominance. At distances upward of several tens of meters, the samurai could still rely on the swift javelins, the powerful longbows, and the formidable Han crossbows.


    Having sketched the designs, Xiulote rose to his feet, his heart surging with excitement. He looked towards the eagles in the sky, seeing them spread their wings, soaring at heights unreachable by mere mortals. The young man¡¯s aspirations rose with the eagle, encompassing the seas, and swallowing the wastelands!


    Fire arrows, ceramic caltrops, wooden cannons¡ªthese would be the three standard firearm equipments for the Alliance in the future, accompanying the legions of the Mexica, to thoroughly sweep across the entire world!

 Chapter 256 - 142 Prelude

    Xiulote gazed skyward, where eagles soared, envisioning a distant future rich with possibilities. To turn those visions into reality required concrete and effective planning, as well as steadfast progress.


    With this in mind, he waved his hand to summon Esko, and once again inquired about the production of saltpeter from Heavenly Fire Island, which was essentially the production capacity for gunpowder.


    The Alliance was flanked by continuous volcanic ranges to the east and the west, among which lay many natural sulfur mines. The most active among these was the Popocatepetl volcano, located in the eastern range, bordering the people of Tlaxcala, and abundant in sulfur and obsidian. Thanks to the mountain folk¡¯s harvesting efforts, the Alliance was not short of sulfur.


    Not long ago, Xiulote personally designed charcoal clamp kilns. According to the head charcoal burner, Koskachi, charcoal production rates had reached thirty-five percent following the completion of the first batch of clamp kilns and were expected to soon hit forty percent.


    Hence, for the Mexica Alliance, the only constraint on mass-producing gunpowder was saltpeter.


    Xiulote, looking at the increasingly respectful Esko, asked in a grave tone.


    "Esko, how is the accumulation of saltpeter progressing now?"


    Esko smiled in reply, full of confidence in this matter.


    "Your Highness, I have now mobilized hundreds of salt workers and over a thousand laborers, collecting saltpeter in heaps every day. Our current daily saltpeter consumption barely exceeds two to three thousand catties. At this rate, it will suffice for several months, or even until the end of the year."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then slightly shook his head.


    "Esko, you still need to hasten the collection! Come March, the gathering of saltpeter will become difficult, with a significant drop in content. And once it starts to rain, the alkali lands will be unreliable. Remember to dispatch people to explore the caves in the forests, looking for places where bats congregate. There should be a large quantity of saltpeter there too!"


    Esko bowed to take his leave. Xiulote recalculated in his mind and shook his head with a sigh.


    The current production of saltpeter on the island was merely over a hundred catties per day, amounting to just over three thousand catties per month. When converted into standard gunpowder, this equated to a monthly output of four thousand catties, or tens of thousands of catties annually. Ten fire arrows required at least one catty of gunpowder, a single Clay Tribulus needed three to four catties, and a wooden cannon required nearly ten catties. The Alliance¡¯s three months of gunpowder production could only manufacture thirty thousand fire arrows, muster eight hundred Clay Tribulus, or fire three to five hundred wooden cannons.


    This number, seemingly large, was only enough for the consumption of one large-scale battle. If it were a siege, the consumption of gunpowder would double. This figure did not even take into account loss, misplacement, and accidental discharges. Usually, non-combat losses of gunpowder also exceeded twenty to thirty percent.


    Xiulote recalled history and reality. In this era of the rise of gunpowder weapons, the highest production of gunpowder should belong to the Ming Dynasty, annually producing at least several million catties, followed by the Ottoman, also on the scale of a million catties yearly. For emerging Spain, the annual gunpowder production was around several hundred thousand catties, with capacity rapidly increasing.


    Six gunpowder workshops had been established in the Capital City of the Ming Dynasty, especially the renowned Wanggong Factory, which left an unsolved mystery for later generations. "Every five days, the three main camps of the Capital City together take over three thousand catties of gunpowder." Wanggong Factory¡¯s daily gunpowder production was at least six hundred catties or more, with thirty to fifty craftsmen and dozens of laborers, clearly far surpassing the production efficiency of the Alliance.


    The Ottoman Empire was also building a large number of gunpowder workshops to meet the vast consumption of war. As early as the 1453 siege of Constantinople, in a little more than a month, the besiegers¡¯ ordinary cannons consumed 50-60 thousand catties of gunpowder and fired around 5,000 cannonballs. The fearsome Great Bombard required several hundred catties of gunpowder per shot, capable of hurling 500-kilogram projectiles up to 1 mile away, with loading times stretching to several hours and requiring dozens of men to load.


    A year later, in 1484, King Fernando of Spain established royal arsenals in Seville and Cordova. Later, during the 1487 siege of Malaga City, dozens of cannons were used continuously bombarding the fortress for months. Soon, Spain would become the country producing the most gunpowder in Lord¡¯s Europe, and with the perfection of the "Great Schiltron," it would also have the most musketeers.


    "Esko, the current daily saltpeter production is only over a hundred catties, which is far too low! I will allocate another group of salt workers to you, and in a month, we need to achieve a daily production of over two hundred catties!"


    Xiulote gave his stern order, demanding a doubling of production.


    Esko¡¯s expression turned bitter. He lowered his head, pondered for a moment, then still replied candidly.


    "Your Highness, the production of saltpeter requires not just experienced salt workers! Collecting saltpeter soil requires thousands of laborers, boiling saltpeter requires a large amount of wood and straw, and manpower is also needed to collect and chop this. Additionally, someone must gather plant ash from the Capital City... To double the production, at least several hundred to a thousand more laborers would need to be levied, along with sufficient tools and food."


    Hearing this, Xiulote thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I will allocate more laborers for you. Let the saltpeter salt workers learn from each other, exchanging experiences; there is still much room for improvement. Also, encourage exploration! If methods are found to increase capacity, first grant a reward, then spread the knowledge!"


    Esko prostrated to accept the order. Enduring the pain of his wounds, he clenched his teeth in determination. Far away, the chief salt worker Moreno shuddered violently, looking utterly bewildered.


    To maintain just this one saltpeter and gunpowder workshop already occupied the manpower of two to three thousand people and stationed over a hundred samurais, drastically reducing the output of the great salt fields while requiring a continuous supply of food. The development and application of military technology would continuously drain national strength, and it was not an issue that could be impulsively solved by one person.

 Chapter 257 - 142 Prelude_2

    Thinking of this, the youth sighed deeply, acknowledging that the development of productive force was the foundation of societal progress. In this era, productive forces meant metal tools... The copper mines of Tarasco were essential!


    After inspecting Heavenly Fire Island, he left new orders. Then, Xiulote looked at Talaya again and gestured for her to come closer. The pottery girl modestly bowed her head, approaching like a timid deer.


    Xiulote gazed at Talaya¡¯s beautiful profile in silence. Repeated coincidences and interactions had left a ripple in the young man¡¯s heart, but that ripple would soon smooth over. In the lake of his heart, there was only the maiden in white, who he longed for and had promised his life to.


    The youth thought of the dangers involved in mixing gunpowder, hesitated for a moment, then spoke.


    "Talaya, it might be dangerous here. Do you want to come back to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion with me?"


    Upon hearing this, Talaya lifted her head, her eyes brightening momentarily, then she saw His Highness¡¯s calm, undisturbed eyes. She slowly bowed her head again, letting her long hair cascade down.


    "Your Highness, are the matters here very important to you?"


    Xiulote was slightly startled. He looked at the pottery girl¡¯s dim eyes, feeling an inexplicable stir.


    "Yes, the production of gunpowder is very important to the Alliance, but a slight mishap here could be life-threatening."


    Talaya lifted her head again and quietly observed His Highness. She remembered the excitement when she first entered the mansion, the subsequent distancing by His Highness, the stern dispatch by the High Priest, and His Highness¡¯s noble fianc¨¦e... The pottery girl pressed her lips tight.


    "Your Highness, I wish to stay here and take charge of producing the gunpowder for you!"


    Xiulote was stunned, this response was unexpected.


    "You want to stay here?"


    Talaya gently nodded, her voice soft as she replied.


    "Yes, I am willing."


    Xiulote once again looked into Talaya¡¯s eyes, her clear eyes revealed a determination, reminiscent of the first time he met her when she raised the prices of her pottery bowls. This time, the pottery girl had truly left a mark in his heart.


    The youth slightly lowered his gaze, then quickly reopened his eyes. His expression calm, he nodded slightly. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Very well! Next, you will need to experiment with different gunpowder mixture ratios and explore methods to purify sulfur. Most importantly, find steps to enhance the power of the gunpowder. Do well, and the Alliance will not mistreat you!


    Remember, there must be no open flames in the workshop, try not to get involved in the mixing personally. I will assign a priestess to teach you literacy and writing, to document the important experiment outcomes. The gunpowder stocks must not be compromised!"


    Xiulote commanded sternly, his face serious.


    Hearing the cold voice, Talaya nodded silently, pressing her lips together again.


    Xiulote watched her silently for a moment, then turned away, leaving behind a softly spoken word of concern and a reliable silhouette.


    "Be careful and take care of yourself~"


    Having said that, the youth hurried away, quickly boarding the large boat he came on. A glimmer appeared in the pottery girl¡¯s eyes, and she tiptoed again, placing her pale hands over her heart. Then, she watched the direction of His Highness¡¯s departure, her lips slowly forming a smile.


    Bertade watched this scene with a calm expression. Seeing the young man hasten away, he smiled slightly, nodded kindly to Talaya and followed with the warriors. Esko thought for a moment, then bowed to Talaya, respectfully acknowledging her.


    As the sun set in the west, casting golden light, their boat on Lake Texcoco sparkled against their faces, revealing shifts of light and shadow, and a long breeze stirred the clothes and muddled the heart.


    The large boat progressed forward, Xiulote stood alone at the prow. He watched the bustling, intertwining small boats towards the Long River and fields to the north, resembling his entangled thoughts. Shortly after, he thought of the maiden in white, his lips curving into a smile, his expression calming down. After pondering for a moment, the young man finally felt some doubt.


    Xiulote turned his head, looking towards the loyal Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, the formula for gunpowder is the highest secret of the Alliance. Gather some followers and go there, strengthen the defenses once more."


    Bertade nodded silently, indicating that he had noted the instruction.


    Xiulote thought for a moment and then asked directly.


    "Bertade, why was Talaya the one bringing me the ink while I was drawing and calculating? Shouldn¡¯t it have been you in the beginning?"


    The Head Warrior gave a sheepish smile, his composure gone.


    "Your Highness, as there was a girl present whom you favor, and she is a member of the mansion, it seems only natural to let her handle this matter. Did you really want me, a burly samurai, to accompany you?"


    Xiulote gently shook his head and sighed. Although he was not particularly intelligent, he was keenly perceptive and good at reflecting afterward.


    "Bertade, I actually didn¡¯t have much interest in her initially, and our previous encounter was merely a coincidence... But then you brought her back to the mansion, and today you allowed her to serve by my side. When the gunpowder was successfully developed, I got carried away..."


    The young man quietly defended himself, as if trying to convince himself.


    Bertade promptly interrupted.


    "Your Highness, now that you have held her hand, embraced her, and even pushed her to the ground, if you do not take her as your concubine, do you plan to promise her to someone else? Montezuma I had hundreds of concubines and fathered many Divine Descendant warriors!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote sighed again, feeling somewhat troubled. Then, he gave a stern look to his loyal Head Warrior and angrily retorted.


    "Bertade, no more talking. We¡¯re neither kin nor kindred; why are you so diligent? Your incessant nagging sounds like the old matchmakers in the Lake Capital City!"


    After speaking, Xiulote turned his head to gaze at the lake, his thoughts rippling slightly like the water. After a long while, he recalled the charming Alisa, feeling guilty and vexed.


    Bertade smiled faintly, standing peacefully behind the young man, his face again showing signs of age. His thoughts drifted far away, chuckling to himself in silence.


    "Your Highness, although the princess is desirable, born from the clouds and of the highest Divine Descendancy. You are the hope of our common people, how could you become as heartless as the Divine Descendants? Your mother came from a common background, always disregarding status. Surely she would accept a wife of common birth for you. And even as a concubine, she too could bear a future..."


    Thinking this, Bertade quietly pressed his hand against his chest, ensuring that his loyalty to His Highness had never changed, and he smiled again.


    Xiulote stared blankly far away, his eyes following the small boats on the lake that moved at will. A moment later, the young man¡¯s gaze focused, seeing all the boats heading north.


    "Bertade, what day is it today? Why are all these boats heading north?"


    The Head Warrior looked towards the lake, where small boats noisily moved north together. On the boats, there were nobles in splendid attire, priests in long robes and feather crowns, samurai in heated discussions, and excited merchants and farmers. Bertade thought for a moment, then inquired of the warriors accompanying the boats, and finally obtained an answer.


    "Your Highness, today is the day the Otomi captives are brought to the Capital City! Accompanied are the Priesthood and thousands of warriors, and dozens of large boats loaded with treasures. The people of the Capital City have been waiting for a long time!"


    Xiulote considered briefly, then remembered the Uguel Priesthood he had dispatched. He nodded and directed the fleet to change course.


    The fleet moved swiftly, gliding over the shimmering lake, with the surrounding boats respectfully making way. To the right was the splendid causeway. Following the causeway around most of the Capital City, the returning Naval Forces fleet appeared majestically before the young man.


    Thousands of warriors were dressed in full gear. They stood on boats, waving their shields and long sticks, greeting the crowds around them with battle cries. And between the thousand boats and the causeway, tens of thousands of villagers responded with enthusiastic cheers. They waved their hands, their voices booming. They celebrated the military¡¯s victory, welcoming the triumphant return of the fleet, and looked forward to the upcoming grand ceremony!


    Boats went downstream with villagers continuously arriving by boat, their cheers unending. In the center of the warrior-controlled fleet, over a thousand Otomi nobles trembled with fear, their faces showing terror as if they had entered the land of a strange god, losing the sense of home for their souls and bodies.


    At the very front of the returning fleet, there was a huge canoe with a divine altar several meters high built upon it. The Elder Priest Uguel sat high on the altar. He wore a stone crown and a long robe, his figure slightly bulky but regal as he waved to the four corners, enjoying the pleasure of the cheers from thousands!


    Xiulote watched calmly all that unfolded. "Leaving the stage below the palace, the chariot arrived at Qin." What awaited these noble captives next? After pondering for a moment, the young man shook his head and then steered the boat towards the Capital City.


    Two days later, the Lake Capital City burst into excitement again, hundreds of thousands of villagers gathered singing, and the New Year¡¯s Grand Ceremony officially began!

 Chapter 258 - 143 New Year Sacrificial Rite and Reform Advancement

    The morning sun illuminated the earth, and the celebratory songs soared into the sky. The burning fragrance of sandalwood wafted between heaven and earth, also lingering in the bustling palace district where the celebration was in full swing. A divine aura enveloped every street, so the will of the Chief Divine was omnipresent and also descended upon Xiulote.


    The youth, wearing a Feather Crown and dressed in a splendid ceremonial dress, followed behind the High Priest adorned like a deity and solemnly arrived at Montezuma Palace. Afterwards, he conjured a small golden eagle from within his ample ceremonial dress and, with a smile, handed it to the girl in white, seizing the opportunity to hold Alisa in his embrace.


    The girl let out a soft cry of "Ah." She carefully protected the charming eagle, awkwardly attempting to flee, but still received a kiss on her ear, her face blooming with a layer of red blush. Aweit immediately coughed lightly, and little Aviloztli also struggled in his arms with "cheep-cheep" noises, so Xiulote winked at the girl and squeezed her slender hand before returning to his place in the procession.


    Aweit, dressed in royal attire, said goodbye to his daughter whose face was flushed. He did not bring his beloved Alisa with him because he did not want her to witness the bloodshed.


    A moment later, everyone exited the palace. The King, in his imposing might, led the way, with the High Priest solemnly following. The youth trailed two steps behind, looking up towards the Great Temple not far away. His gaze lingered on the palace of the Chief Minister. There, a tall and elderly figure could be vaguely seen, standing firm like a mountain, calm like the sea.


    Entering the Temple District, holy flames were lit in the Temples along the way, with the green smoke of pine branches rising. The Priests began to chant hymns and sounded their mysterious clay flutes, welcoming the arrival of the esteemed ones.


    The Chief Divine walked among men, and when he halted, it was at the grand Great Temple. Xiulote ascended the top of the majestic Temple, observing the changes within. The War God¡¯s gold sculpture was as towering and resplendent as ever, surrounded by countless flowers and gemstones, with three-colored feathers of the Feathered Serpent Divine inserted behind; yet the Rain Divine¡¯s sculpture had its decorations removed, encircled by the War God¡¯s banners, as though enveloped by the Chief Divine¡¯s glory.


    Seeing this, Xiulote nodded. The changes within the Temple were all prearranged by the High Priesthood and carried hidden meanings. The Supreme Chief Divine would ultimately rise to become a conceptual deity without an idol, but the time had not yet come. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Subsequently, everyone took their places with solemn expressions. The High Priest stood at the forefront, holding the Obsidian Dagger for sacrifice, leading the twelve Priesthoods ranged around the two Sacrificial Stones. Slightly behind, Aweit presided from his throne, imperiously overseeing tens of thousands of citizens, small as ants.


    The youth stood calmly at the rear, staring across at the Chief Palace, his gaze meeting that of the equally calm elder. Then, he bowed sincerely, shifting his gaze once more towards the distance. From this vantage point, everything seemed so clear.


    Below the Temple, were the Citizens celebrating the gods. The Priests chanted and danced with devotion, as if communicating with the deities. The Nobility sat at their tables, their expressions slightly tense, their banter not as relaxed as before. The Samurai immersed themselves in competitions and rituals, waving their arms and letting out involuntary roars of excitement. The common people indulged in songs and dances, praising poetry and theater, performing the mythologies and legends of the Mexica.


    Among this land of the Divine Kingdom, the only ones unable to blend in were the foreign envoys. They looked on with reverence and serious expressions, silently watching the Otomi Nobility being led into the arena.


    The esteemed ones took their places in the sacred area, and the Citizens of the Capital City eagerly awaited the first act, which was the opening ceremony.


    The King raised high the Yellow Gemstone Divine Staff, saluting the Heavenly Divine, and the tens of thousands in the Temple District kneeled in homage like rippling waves. Afterwards, Aweit spread his arms wide, receiving the acclaims of the multitude and basking in the supreme enjoyment. Amidst the tidal waves of voices, his eyes shone brilliantly, his chest surged powerfully, and he laughed heartily. It was intoxicating exhilaration!


    The acclamation continued for a full quarter of an hour. Then, the High Priest raised the Sun Divine Staff high, chanting in the ancient dialect of the Holy City.


    "The sun rises high, and the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli ascends to the utmost heights! He shall devour the darkness, he shall control all things! He shall reign over all, omnipotent!"


    Hearing these obscure words of the divine, a few of the Great Nobility standing at the front nodded silently. Below the Temple, most people who did not understand nonetheless cheered just the same. Then, a somber drumbeat started, sharp conch sounds blared, and the crowd gradually quieted, leaving only the Priests chanting loudly, praising the names of the gods.


    The Priests called for the deities, and when the deities arrived, the second act began with sacrifice.


    The sacrifices at the ballcourt kicked things off. In the four semi-underground ballcourts designated for human sacrifice, the Otomi Nobility competed fiercely, battling brutally. But today, their fates had been predetermined: the victors sacrificed at the Temple, the losers executed in obscurity, all of them inevitably meeting death.


    Engrossed in the exciting ballgame, the Nobility gradually got involved, cheering one moment, cursing the next. Their emotions finally found solace, their hearts filling with a hint of satisfaction.


    Meanwhile, in the smaller Temples, hundreds of Tlacopan Nobility were stained blue and silently sacrificed to the Chief Divine, quietly warning the ambitious among the Great Nobility.


    Next, the Rain Divine¡¯s sacrifice was altered. The rites became much simpler, and the scale of the sacrifice greatly reduced. On the platform before the Rain God Temple, there were only one-on-one duels, pleasing the great War God. Under fair duels but with unfair equipment, the captive Otomi leaders died in succession, adding more blossoming blood flowers to the ceremony.

 Chapter 259 - 143 New Year Sacrificial Rite and Reform Advancement_2

    The Samurai of Mexica below heatedly admired the warrior¡¯s resolve to die, and fervently glorified the War God¡¯s mighty name. Unknowingly, the Rain Divine faded to the corners, erased from existence in the ceremony. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Observing all this, Xiulote nodded calmly.


    In all the sacrifices, the most important were those in front of the Chief Divine¡¯s Temple. Twelve Elder Priests divided into two groups, conducting the sacrifices simultaneously, alternately invoking prayers.


    "Chief Divine, supreme and mighty, He forgives the nobility Mitlantecuhtli of the Otomi, accepts his final conversion and devout repentance, and leads him to the beautiful Divine Kingdom for eternal peace!"


    "Chief Divine, omnipotent, He judges the Divine Descendant Olaltecuhtli of Xilotepec, condemning him for the sins of his lineage and his rebellious acts, and casts him into the burning Abyss, to suffer eternally!"


    The obsidian dagger slashed again, holy liquid sprinkled on the stone steps. Devout hearts carrying souls were taken by the Sacred Fire, while sinful hearts with souls tumbled down the steps. These were the first batch of sacrifices to the new divine, exhibiting two starkly different deaths.


    Hearing the eternal judgment of the priests and witnessing this rise and fall of souls, all the nobility, Samurai, and citizens were profoundly shaken. At this moment, the Chief Divine began to surpass the War God and the Sun God, becoming the highest entity, deeply ingrained in the hearts of the citizens of the Capital City.


    The Elders made their offerings one after the other, until the sun rose to the center, and the third act was the proclamation.


    At high noon, the blazing sunlight radiated boundless might, just like the mythically supreme Chief Divine.


    At the pinnacle of the Great Temple, the High Priest once again raised the Sun Divine Staff, proclaiming loudly. Immediately, hundreds of the Priesthood throughout the Great Temple repeated in chorus, calling out continuously.


    "As the sun rises high, Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli ascends to the highest! He is supreme and mighty, omnipotent. He has devoured the body of the Feathered Serpent Divine, taking over the old divine¡¯s priesthood, and the Feathered Serpent Divine is dead!"


    Hearing this statement, beneath the towering Great Temple "boom" resounded, faces of the citizens of the Capital City blank and terrified, incredulously questioning one another. Following this, well-prepared priests narrated changes in the divine myths, infusing a new ideology between the lines.


    Xiulote smiled faintly. This was the proposal he insisted on, the Feathered Serpent Divine must die, never to be demoted to a Saint! Henceforth, both his body and priesthood belonged to the Chief Divine. And those along the coast who worshipped the Feathered Serpent must convert to the Chief Divine, erasing the image of the Feathered Serpent Divine completely. Those who disobeyed would be utterly eradicated!


    Hearing the young man¡¯s resolute proposal, the High Priest, although initially noncommittal, ultimately nodded in helpless agreement, "to eliminate the grand latent threat from the East."


    "As the sun rises high, Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli ascends to the highest! He is supreme and mighty, omnipotent. He rules over all divines, controlling all priesthoods and powers, He is the Divine of all Divines!"


    Upon hearing this, a wave of astonishment and exclamations arose beneath the luminous Great Temple. As the Guardian God was again elevated, the citizens of the Capital City felt joy from deep within, yet were genuinely puzzled. At this moment, the prepared priests guided the people to collectively praise the Chief Divine¡¯s mighty name, using devout prayers to dispel all doubts.


    This time, the praises lasted for two quarters of an hour, covering the old beliefs with the resonance of faith. The High Priest¡¯s expression solemn, divine-like over those below. Where his Divine Staff pointed, the praises intensified suddenly. After a moment, watching the citizens deeply engaged, he nodded in satisfaction.


    "As the sun rises high, Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli ascends to the highest! He is supreme and mighty, omnipotent. He grants victory and lands, He craves Holy Blood and divine wars.


    Everything will wither, Samurai return to the Divine Kingdom. Only Holy Blood can perfect the sun, vanquish the evil moon, and illuminate the endless darkness! Only a divine war can let the Chief Divine devour all that belongs to other divines, granting us omnipotent and eternal protection... Holy Blood, divine war! Holy Blood, divine war!!!"


    At this moment, beneath the sacred Great Temple, the shouts already reached a peak. Nobles anticipated this, their expressions acknowledging; Samurai bloodthirsty and excited; civilians anxious and confused... all emotions gradually guided into fervent and intense chanting, until tens of thousands vocally exhaustedly shouted:


    "Holy Blood, divine war! Holy Blood, divine war!!!..."


    The earth-shaking noise startled distant birds and made the Lake of Texcoco¡¯s waters also ripple. Along with the spreading shouts, priests in various communities also led their followers to join the intense chorus, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions, until the entire Lake Capital City!


    The call to war boomed like continuous thunder, exploding across the expansive heavens and earth. An endless aura of might descended, carrying the Mexica people¡¯s fiery will!


    Foreign envoys and merchants were terrified and prostrated themselves on the ground, trembling fearfully, turning powerlessly and praying deeply towards the direction of the Great Temple. Intense unease and fear rose within each foreigner¡¯s heart, crushing their will and resolve to resist.


    Only after a while did the terrifying howls gradually cease. Every citizen of the Capital City¡¯s face bore the reverence and submission following the collective frenzy, Xiulote as well. His face flushed from shouting, his chest throbbed with excited heat waves, calming only after a long while.


    Thereafter, in the communities of the Lake Capital City, priests no longer praised the Feathered Serpent Divine of the new year but praised the elevated Chief Divine. Chief Divine above all divines, omnipotent!

 Chapter 260 - 143 New Year Sacrificial Rite and Reform Advancement_3

    However, long-standing beliefs could not change overnight. Faced with new doctrines, the common people began to harbor doubts once more, and at this time, an authoritative endorsement was needed, a tangible presence before their eyes.


    As the community¡¯s praise rose, the spokesperson of the gods set out, and the fourth act was the procession.


    Atop the Great Temple, the High Priesthood still presided over the sacred sacrifices. King Aweit rose from his throne and tapped Xiulote lightly with the Divine Staff, and the youth followed behind him. He then looked towards the elder whose figure was no longer in the palace.


    The two descended the red-stained steps, mounted the high shoulder litter, and were carried by the loyal Samurai, majestically surveying the city.


    The King represented the Chief Divine, the Sun God, and the War God. His shoulder litter was exceptionally wide, requiring dozens of men to bear. At the towering front and rear ends of the ornate litter were esteemed divine platforms. On the platform at the front were gold symbols of the sun and the hummingbird, reaching two meters high, with an outer circle and inner blade. The platform at the rear was filled with the tricolored feathers of the Feathered Serpent Divine, studded with emeralds symbolizing wisdom.


    A few meters apart, Xiulote understood in his heart. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The King¡¯s procession proclaimed the expansion of the Chief Divine¡¯s priesthood; the feathers and turquoise symbolized the Chief Divine devouring the Feathered Serpent Divine. Henceforth, the Chief Divine became more powerful, acquired the wisdom of the Feathered Serpent, and also controlled peace and prosperity.


    As Aweit¡¯s shoulder litter proceeded with dignity, the somber priests loudly declared, "The King brings the divine decree, the Feathered Serpent Divine has been devoured by the Chief Divine!"


    The Feathered Serpent Divine was one of the traditional four gods and also an important deity to pray to during the New Year sacrificial rites. Hearing this proclamation, the commoners along the way showed unease, murmuring in perplexed and fearful whispers. The Samurais, however, were energized, loudly chanting prayers of the War God¡¯s faith. And the Nobility were enthusiastically thronging, laughing loudly and offering sincere greetings to the King.


    Xiulote followed behind, faintly hearing various praises characteristic of this era¡¯s simplicity and ruggedness, "What a decisive and strong king to have killed his own brother!" "The King is a ruthless roaring Jaguar!" "The King is like a lone eagle soaring high!" "The King has the piety and courage to sacrifice himself!"...


    Hearing this, the youth found it amusing and could not help laughing out loud, immediately drawing the attention of the other Nobility.


    Thus, in a short while, Xiulote too was surrounded by earnest praise.


    "Your Highness slayed the Marshal, shot dead the former king; truly extraordinary, brave and outstanding!"


    "Your Highness has no interest in beauty, only in strong and muscular Samurai and Craftsmen, just like the great Toltec people!"


    "Your Highness is as beautiful as a flower, inspiring admiration, and I wish to guard you for life!"


    "Your Highness has received Divine Revelation and can stand for seven days and seven nights, listening to the voice passed down by the Heavenly Divine!"...


    Xiulote¡¯s face stiffened, barely maintaining the expression on his face. Until suddenly, all the praises fell silent, leaving only the sincere cheers of the common people.


    The youth was moved. He turned his head and saw the elder¡¯s shoulder litter slowly coming from another intersecting street.


    The elder was seated high upon a divine platform, his expression calm, without a ripple. His hair was white, his back still straight, and his gaze swept over emotionlessly.


    Where the divine gaze fell, the nobility immediately fell silent, hushed as if chilled to their very souls. The samurai, however, showed excitement, bearing genuine admiration for heroes. And the common folk outright cheered and praised, singing of the Sun God who illuminated their fifty years! ... Continuously, everyone bowed to the elder, who also nodded slightly, calmly facing the more excited cheers.


    In front of the elder¡¯s palanquin, priests carried high the symbols of the Chief Divine, followed by the smaller standards of the Subordinate Gods. Among them, the Rain Divine was particularly conspicuous, having been demoted from an equal dual divine to a subordinate of the Chief Divine.


    In the distance, Xiulote bowed deeply to the elder, sincerely expressing his regards.


    The elder¡¯s pilgrimage despite illness was to declare the ascension of the Chief Divine¡¯s position, from then on the Supreme Chief Divine above all gods, absorbing all priestly roles, until becoming the only true God!


    Finally, the King and the elder bowed to each other, and the two different processions like this passed by each other.


    Atop the palanquin, as if a divine were on a procession, Xiulote was filled with countless emotions.


    He looked down upon the prostrating masses along the way, savoring the eyes of reverence and obedience, feeling the supreme power, and also experiencing the soul-shaking impact that power brought: All could be decided with a single word, law following the word, this is the divine supremacy!


    Majestic emotions danced in the young man¡¯s chest, making him want to bellow out a cry, a smile of enjoyment emerging on his lips. Moments later, remembering the calm elder, the youth suddenly became alert, reining in his presumptuous emotions.


    Following that, Xiulote fell into deep thought.


    He followed behind the King, silently observing all changes, and thereby saw the more essential matters. Nobles, samurai, and commoners, these different classes, faced religious reforms with varying psychological changes. These changes depended on their devotion to the deities and their capability to control power. The commoners were the most devout, the nobility held the most power, and the samurai were the most reliable.


    For the priestly class, the reforms that were underway were in fact propelling a rapid expansion of their power and also promoting the growing size of the priesthood. Even though the priests of various gods were subordinated under the Chief Divine, the number of lower-level priests was still far from sufficient.


    For the priests had penetrated deeply into people¡¯s lives. They were to preside over daily rituals, preside over grand ceremonies every ten days, regularly receive confessions from the public, and also undertake pilgrimages to the Holy Land. More importantly, the priests were to fully enforce the religious laws in society according to the Code of Law!


    In the daily lives of the Mexica, the new religion had become increasingly significant, exerting a continuous and profound influence on all groups. This was also a characteristic of strong monotheism, penetrating into the lives of people. And the more it penetrated into life, the more inflated the priests¡¯ privileges became. In the foreseeable future, priests would eventually become the core of society, guiding people¡¯s words and actions, becoming the measure of all things.


    "The height of priestly power developed to its utmost is like the gentry authority at the peak of the Ming Dynasty. It requires adequate checks and balances!"


    Xiulote pondered silently, envisioning the unpredictable future, with his thoughts extending far away.


    It was a long while before the youth came back to his senses amidst the cheering. He listened attentively; it was the unanimous praise for the Chief Divine, the sincere singing for the elder, many people¡¯s admiration for the King¡¯s choice... The variation in the quantity and emotion of these praises displayed the ranking in people¡¯s hearts. And among these praises, only a very few mentioned His Highness.


    "The future, I have only just begun!"


    Thinking this, Xiulote smiled faintly. He looked around, now at the junction between the main city and North City, where it was time to depart. Thus, before everyone, His Highness bowed respectfully to the King, then dressed down and left discreetly.


    The youth left the supreme solitude of the Divine Kingdom for the beautiful gathering among men. He was to find the girl in white, untainted, to lean on each other in sharing a heartwarming New Year.

 Chapter 261 - 144: Date and Science Popularization Part 1

    The intense midday sun bathed the earth, and the New Year¡¯s festival reached its climax. Where the elders and the King passed, the ground was filled with prostrate worshippers, continuous cheers, and celebratory song and dance. The Priest¡¯s chanting, accompanied by the prayers of the people, recited the new doctrine in the community for the first time, while burning pine and sandalwood enveloped the Lake Capital City¡ªit had indeed become the Divine Kingdom.


    "The Mexica are devout believers in deities, fierce and combative."


    Xiulote remembered the evaluation from future generations and couldn¡¯t help but smile wistfully. Then, smelling the strong incense and listening to the high-pitched chanting, he made his way through the frenzied crowd into a secluded alley. The Head Warrior followed closely behind him, and the two of them headed straight for the Montezuma Palace, following the waterway flickering with Wick Grass.


    As the young man stepped into the grand entrance of the palace again, he heard the joyful sounds of "yo-yo". Following the sound, he ascended the two-story building, only to see the little golden eagle snuggled comfortably into a young girl¡¯s arms, rubbing back and forth contentedly, occasionally lifting its head to chirp.


    Alisa, clad in white, gazed out the window, her eyes fixed on the grand celebration, lost in thought. She held the little Aviloztli closely in her arms as if clinging to her only companion, while her other hand gently stroked the molting eagle¡¯s nape, tenderness mingled with girlish nurture.


    "She is pure, untouched by even a speck of dust, and also lonely, isolated from society."


    At this thought, Xiulote felt a surge of compassion. He took a few gentle steps forward, half-embraced the girl in his arms, then pulled her in tighter. Then, he looked at her surprised face and said with a smile,


    "I just finished up. Shall we go for a boat ride on the lake?"


    "Yes!"


    Alisa¡¯s eyes lit up with a smile, and she nodded vigorously, instinctively leaning on the young man¡¯s shoulder.


    Xiulote looked at her tenderly, slightly bowing his head, intentionally leaning toward the girl¡¯s cheek.


    "Cheep cheep!" A sharp, clear peep came from the little golden eagle, caught in the middle between the two and completely ignored. It unfolded its tiny wings in protest, fluttering about, causing Alisa¡¯s long hair to become disheveled. Alisa then shifted to the side, freeing herself from Xiulote¡¯s embrace and gently took the young man¡¯s hand.


    Xiulote glared at the little Aviloztli, who, oblivious to the situation, continued to nuzzle in the girl¡¯s arms. Unable to bear it anymore, the young man finally stretched out his finger and flicked the eagle¡¯s forehead with force. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The little golden eagle yelped in shock, "Cheep!..." It then shook its tiny head and opened its round black eyes wide to take a good look at the "bad person"... "Cheep!" The good guy had turned bad! So, it plunged headfirst into Alisa¡¯s arms, raising its soft wings again to cover its tiny head.


    Xiulote winced as a pinch on his hand hurt, but when he looked up, he saw the girl puffing with anger at him. He gave a gentle smile, tenderly pinched the girl¡¯s cheek, and spoke again,


    "Let¡¯s go!"


    Rowing on Lake Texcoco, the clamorous world suddenly receded, the brutal struggles were miles away, all that was left was distant song. Their solitary boat gleamed amidst shimmering waves, transcending all worldly matters¡ªthis small space became their own Peach Blossom Land.


    The two sat facing each other, so close that they could clearly see the other¡¯s blushing face and hear each other¡¯s quickly hastening breaths.


    Xiulote contained his wandering thoughts. Reflecting on the goal of the day, he reached out his hand to hold her soft and smooth hand, looked into her pure and sincere eyes, and asked earnestly,


    "Alisa, how do you see the world?"


    Alisa¡¯s face reddened; she looked into the young man¡¯s eyes, feeling the same purity and sincerity. This time, the girl didn¡¯t avert her gaze but spoke softly, revealing her thoughts,


    "Xiulote, my father told me that gods created the world and that everything is destiny. From the past to today, people live or die, go on with their lives or fight, control others or are controlled, all according to the will of the gods. Great people can change a part of their fates through fighting or worshipping the gods.


    However, the fates of most mortals are already determined by the gods. We will follow a set trajectory to the end destined for death, and eventually reunite in the infinitely beautiful Divine Kingdom..."


    As he listened to the girl¡¯s worldview, Xiulote was momentarily stunned. He wanted to say something but didn¡¯t know where to start. It seemed this was also Aweit¡¯s worldview. After hesitating for a moment, he changed the angle of his inquiry,


    "Alisa, what is your world like?"


    Alisa looked at the young man, her blush spreading from her face to her neck. She stayed silent for a while before speaking softly,


    "In my world, at first there was only my father, then came my brother, and now you are here..."


    Hearing this confession, Xiulote felt a flood of emotions rushing through him. He pulled the girl into his embrace impatiently yet carefully, feeling the real warmth, the shared intense beating of their hearts. After a while, he finally left the soft embrace and returned to the matter at hand,


    "Alisa, aside from your father, your brother, and me, what are other people like in your heart? How do you treat them?"


    Hearing this question, Alisa appeared a bit perplexed. She blinked her bright eyes, her answer uncertain,


    "Other people? Even though the gods have designed different paths for them, they are probably similar to us. The guards are always nice to me, members of the Royal Family frequently give me gifts¡ªmaybe they have other motives... but I can feel, some of them have genuine emotions for me...


    My father said I can control them, decide life or death for others. But I don¡¯t want to control anyone, nor do I want them to die because of me. I know once people go to the Divine Kingdom, they never return, life only comes once..."

 Chapter 262 - 144: Date and Science Popularization Part 2

    Whenever I can do something to help those around me, I feel happy for a very long time, it¡¯s just that I¡¯ve always been able to do so little..."


    Xiulote gazed into Alisa¡¯s pure eyes and listened to her heartfelt words, feeling inexplicably troubled. Here was a kind girl who had grown up in a beautiful garden, yet to experience the storms of society.


    The young man knew that in the real world, maintaining kindness was a very difficult task. The vast majority of people tend to be neutral or evil. If one wants to do a good deed, it is much more challenging than doing something bad, requiring greater ability, firmer will, and a more accurate grasp of others.


    After much thought, Xiulote decided not to impact Alisa¡¯s worldview for now and start with some basic science education. So, the young man held the girl in his arms, leaning close to her slightly trembling ears, and spoke with a gentle laugh.


    "Alisa, now that we are on the lake, let me tell you the story of water!"


    The girl¡¯s face brightened with a smile. She leaned against the boy¡¯s shoulder and listened attentively.


    "In this world, there is an interaction between all things, this interaction is called force... The softness we feel as we embrace tightly, that¡¯s the effect of force. Force causes us to deform each other... And in this lake, the reason a boat can float is due to the buoyancy of water given to the boat..."


    "When we swim in the lake and don¡¯t sink, it is also due to the buoyancy of water... It is easier to float in Eastern Lake than in West Lake because there is more salt in Eastern Lake, which increases the water¡¯s buoyancy..."


    "Ah, if you don¡¯t believe me, I can build you a small pool, and then add lots and lots of salt to it. Then, you can lie on the surface and sunbathe, and even if you don¡¯t move at all, you won¡¯t sink..."


    Hearing this, Alisa nodded her head with curiosity. There was much confusion in her eyes, but also a new luster.


    Xiulote thought for a moment, then rephrased his words and spoke gently once more. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Alisa, the world is a cycle. The story of water, is the cycle of water.


    The tears you shed for me will rise to the sky with the warmth of the wind, drifting far away in the sky, crossing hills and mountains. Then, they will encounter the cold wind, chilling even themselves. Soon, they turn into raindrops in the cold wind, and fall upon the high mountains. After that, they gather into flowing streams among the mountains. Streams join to form rivers, and rivers flow from high to low, returning to this beautiful Lake Texcoco. And when you drink the boiled lake water, it returns to your body, waiting to flow out again, for me..."


    The girl imagined the journey of the water with yearning, smiling at the corners of her mouth. It wasn¡¯t until later that she looked at the young man with some puzzlement.


    "Xiulote, why must we drink boiled lake water?"


    "Because, there are many invisible tiny creatures in the lake water, which I call bacteria, tiny harmful organisms. Bacteria can enter our bodies with the water we drink, harming our vulnerable parts and making us sick and weak. And only by boiling the water can the bacteria die off and disappear."


    Xiulote explained patiently, using as simple language as possible.


    Alisa nodded her head half-understandingly, cutely tilting her head as she pondered, then asked softly,


    "Then Xiulote, why are my tears shed for you? I often think of my mother, and then tears fall."


    The boy was at a loss for words, then his heart ached with compassion, and he hugged the girl tightly in his arms.


    "Because, now you are mine, even your tears are mine. Crying will hurt your body, so you mustn¡¯t cry anymore... Your mother, she is watching us happily from the Divine Kingdom... So, Alisa, have you cried for me?"


    "Um, yes. Sometimes, when my father and brother are not around. I think of you by myself, and then I cry..."


    Hearing this, Xiulote nodded contentedly, without overthinking. Then he gently admonished,


    "No, don¡¯t cry for me either... I don¡¯t want your tears. You must take care of your health, and stay with me for a very long, long time..."


    Bathed in sunlight and rippling light, the two nestled on the lake surface for a long time.


    In a world of their own, two hearts soared freely. They wandered among rainbows, soared over deserted expanses, driven by emotion, yet restrained by propriety.


    It wasn¡¯t until the sun began to set that Xiulote took Alisa to the royal family¡¯s garden.


    With two seasons a year, the tropical sun was always warm. The royal garden thus bloomed with flowers all year round.


    As Xiulote looked out, he saw a beautiful sea of flowers bursting forth at the lakeside caressed by the breeze: Chinese lanterns hung like golden bells, attracting dancing hummingbirds and butterflies. The tropical hibiscus bloomed large, showing off their vibrant and coquettish colors. The ornamental pineapple flowers resembled flaming torches, strikingly unique in posture. Clusters of Flamingo Flowers bloomed abundantly, like pink umbrellas opening...


    All these were native flowers of Central America, yet to spread from the American Continent to the entire world. At this moment, with no one else around, the serene beauty was theirs alone to revel in.


    Seeing the dazzling flowers, Alisa stood transfixed, her face radiating genuine joy and pure happiness.


    Then, she began to sing a cheerful song, twirling and dancing among the flowers, stretching her slightly grown body, her white dress and long hair fluttering. Occasionally, she would lean into the flowers, lightly sniffing the various scents, touching the tender petals. Then, releasing her hold, she laughed happily, continued with her graceful dance steps, light as a butterfly among the blooms.

 Chapter 263 - 144 Date and Science Communication - Part 3

    Xiulote stood quietly by the side, smiling as he watched the young girl dance. At that moment, he felt like he had become Zhuangzi, even his soul dancing with the butterflies, drifting into a dream where spirits intertwine.


    It was a while before Alisa returned to him. Her face was flushed from exertion, her breath slightly ragged, yet her lips curved in a contented smile. The young man took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped her face. Then, Alisa gathered her courage and gave the young man a happy hug, sharing her body¡¯s warmth with him.


    Feeling the girl¡¯s fiery temperature, Xiulote smiled softly, lowering his head to nuzzle her cheek. Afterward, the young man¡¯s inquiring gaze shifted toward her. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Alisa, what are the things you like? Are they flowers and dances?"


    Alisa looked up, her eyes brimming with joy as she gazed at the young man.


    "Yes, Xiulote. There¡¯s been little I¡¯ve been able to do since I was young. I like to look at mythological murals, but they are few. I enjoy playing the beautiful ocarina, but there aren¡¯t many pieces I can learn. I love reciting poetry, feeling the imagery within the verses. I love dancing freely, soaring light as the wind.


    But most of all, I love all kinds of beautiful plants. They come in different shapes, colors, and scents, and they all have different effects. The priests say they can be used to make potions for communicating with the gods, to make people happy and intoxicated..."


    Xiulote listened with a smile. This was the first time the girl had expressed the joy and passion in her heart. The young man became pensive, lost in thought for a moment before asking uncertainly,


    "Alisa, do you like plants and alchemy?"


    Alisa tilted her head, thinking. Then looking at the young man, she nodded vigorously, affirming,


    "Yes! I love beautiful plants and the wonders of potions. I can remember the characteristics of every herb and tree, and distinguish their scents... I want to create joyful potions to bring happiness to father and you, and to others as well."


    Hearing her answer, Xiulote suddenly thought of the Chief Priest Quetzal, and the mysterious Holy Water he concocted, which could even bring a smile to Gillim¡¯s face. After hesitating for a moment, the young man finally said,


    "Alisa, the Alliance¡¯s alchemy research is highly developed, and studying potions should help your future. I recall that in Kapana, there are plant diagrams and potion formulas left by the Chief Priest. Tomorrow I will go and ask Acap to retrieve these materials for you. In addition, the High Priesthood surely has old priests skilled in potions who could come to teach you. Of course, the ones with the highest mastery over alchemy would be the elders...


    Alisa, promise me that you won¡¯t use any potions you make on yourself, you can test their effects on rabbits, or even slaves. You must be especially careful with those potions that bring happiness, as they may have unpredictable side effects..."


    Listening to the young man¡¯s words, Alisa smiled happily. She nodded her understanding, albeit only half-grasping the implications, and moved closer to give the young man another bold hug.


    So Xiulote embraced the girl tightly, looking into her pure eyes, remembering her endearing manners, and he nodded to himself, making a decision.


    "My beloved, I shall let you stay away from the struggles and killings for power, and immerse yourself in studying alchemy and medicine. Perhaps, this is the path you were meant to take. Maybe, you will live even longer than I will in this lifetime..."


    The sunlight spilled over the sea of flowers, within which the two held each other tightly. A gentle breeze blew, causing the blossoms to sway, and a silent petal fell, twirling down to the lake, drifting away with the ripples. In this world, no one could truly master fate, for fate always flows onwards, toward a distant and unfathomable beyond.

 Chapter 264 - 145: Date and Science Popularization Part 2

    ```


    The gentle breeze blew over a thousand miles, wrinkling a pond¡¯s surface, scattering petals on the ground, and tossing their long hair. At this moment, their hair intertwined, as if the paths of their lives had merged, temples touching in a transmission of affection. In the chilly wind, they embraced each other more closely, cherishing the warmth it brought to their souls.


    After holding each other for a long time, Xiulote finally released his embrace, still tightly gripping Alisa¡¯s hand. He gazed into the girl¡¯s eyes, which were as clear as autumn waters, not realizing that when she looked at him, her eyes blazed like twin flames.


    The youth stared intently for a while, letting the autumn waters extinguish the flames. Only then did he turn his head to look at the scattered fallen leaves, covering the roots of the flowers, and spoke with a smile,


    "Alisa, now that we are in the garden, let me tell you a story about plants!"


    The girl leaned in to listen, her smile as clear as water. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Alisa, the world is a cycle. The story of plants is the cycle of plants."


    "There are two kinds of cycles for plants, one is the cycle of generations. A seed falls into the soil, just as your image falls into my heart. It will begin to sprout, grow slowly, and absorb the nutrients from the soil, as if absorbing my longing for you...


    Then, it will grow vibrant green leaves, rejoicing in the sunlight, frolicking in the dew and rain, just like every encounter with you. Next, beautiful flowers bloom, like your bright smile, and from then on, we stay together. Soon, the flowers will bear fruit, containing the seeds of the next season, which is the fusion of love, giving birth to new life...


    In the end, the new seeds will leave, starting a new cycle..."


    Xiulote spoke softly, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy towards the end.


    Alisa widened her eyes in surprise upon hearing the ending, looking innocently at the youth.


    "Our love fuses, giving birth to new life? Xiulote, do you want to be with me..."


    Xiulote¡¯s face froze as he looked at the innocent girl, and he quickly interrupted,


    "Ah, yes, the love of people can move the spirits, bestowing new life... Alisa, listen to me continue.


    Alisa bit back her words. She looked at the embarrassed youth, then suddenly smiled like a sprite, happily nodding her head.


    This time, Xiulote¡¯s story became much more serious.


    "The other cycle is that of nutrients. There are two kinds of nutrient cycles, one being the nutrients of plants, including nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, uh, I¡¯ll explain these names to you later... Yes, you can think of them as the Divine Power of the Earth Mother. Most of the nutrition for plants comes from the earth, except for beans, which can capture it from the air. That¡¯s why rotating bean crops is necessary... Beans depend on bacteria in their roots... Indeed, the effect of bacteria differs, and some are beneficial to humans...


    The nutrients enter into the plants¡¯ bodies, and also into the flowers, leaves, and fruits... When the flowers and leaves die and fall to the ground, they are slowly consumed by bacteria, turning back into nutrients. The fruits are eaten by humans and animals and are excreted back to the earth...


    So, to support the growth of crops, we Mexica people need to replenish the floating gardens with dug-up river mud, fermented manure, and the ash of burned plants... Of these nutrients, nitrogen is the most important. In the future, we need to occupy islands and salt ponds rich in nitrogen, to fertilize the lands of the Alliance and also to create powerful weapons...


    Ah, you asked about the spirits? The spirits created the materials of the world and also the rules of change. And what happens next in the world is for us to decide..."


    Alisa looked at the youth, her bright eyes flickering, absorbing this new world, and asked curious questions.


    "Plants also provide nutrition for us humans, like corn, beans, and squash. This kind of nutrition is called carbon, and its cycle is known as the carbon cycle... Yes, this is a gift from the maize god to humankind... The carbon in plants comes from the air... Mmm, yes, air is tangible, filled with many substances, and I will prove it to you later...


    The sunlight infuses plants with vitality, and with the help of water and time, gathers these nutrients into fruits edible by humans... Humans gain vitality from the fruits and then expend it in daily activities, releasing it back into the air with every breath...


    No, Alisa, you can¡¯t do that, even without breathing, the vitality will still be consumed!"


    At this point, Xiulote stretched out his hands and held Alisa¡¯s puffy cheeks, her breath blowing on his face with the refreshing scent of peach tree gum.


    Indeed, in this era without toothpaste, the Aztec and Maya nobility chewed the milky gum of the peach tree to maintain oral hygiene and keep their teeth white. This tree gum also became the raw material for natural chewing gum in later times. The peach, also known as the ginseng fruit, is heart-shaped. It also, decades later, alongside corn, squash, and chili peppers, entered the Ming Dynasty, possibly related to the ginseng fruit in the classic tale ¡¯Journey to the West¡¯.


    At this moment, Xiulote held the girl¡¯s cheeks, staring at her lips pursed by the pressure, and suddenly stood transfixed. Then, as if enticed, the youth unconsciously leaned forward, coming closer and closer.


    Alisa blinked and then gave a sly smile. She lightly stepped back, and the youth kissed the air. Then the girl took his hand again, cheerfully saying,


    "Xiulote, let¡¯s go see the adorable animals!"


    As the sun sloped westward, Xiulote took Alisa by the hand, sitting close together. Beneath the twenty-meter-high Peach Blossom Heartwood tree, they looked up at the spider monkeys frolicking and climbing among the tree tops.


    ```

 Chapter 265 - 145: Date and Science Popularization Part 2

    The original habitat of Peach Blossom Heartwood is tropical America. Its texture is hard, the pattern exquisite, with a reddish tinge, resistant to insects, and enduring without decay, carrying a special, pleasant aroma. In later generations, this lumber became extremely valuable and was also used by European royalty for their furniture. At this time, the Mexica people, likewise fond of its scent that repelled insects, planted them in their gardens as well.


    The Black-handed Spider Monkey was only about half a meter in size, with a small, rounded head, slender limbs, and a tail longer than its body. Uniquely, its hands lacked thumbs. These were long-lived monkeys; some could even survive for over thirty years. At the moment, they were freely leaping back and forth in the trees, moving like spiders when crawling. From time to time, the younger monkeys would wrap their long tails around the branches, hanging upside down as they swung, casting lively glances at the people below.


    Xiulote watched the monkeys swinging and suddenly had an idea. Hmm, swinging on a swing was a happy activity, regardless of age. He could make a swing for Alisa, to be placed in the garden, for her to enjoy alone, or to accompany her together.


    Alisa¡¯s eyes widened as she looked at the lively Long-tailed Monkeys. After a while, she grasped Xiulote¡¯s hand and then gave a radiant smile to the watching boy.


    "Xiulote, do you know what monkeys represent in mythology?"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment. He hadn¡¯t received a complete Priestly education and was not familiar with mythology. But seeing the girl¡¯s happy smile, the boy thought for a while and ventured a guess,


    "Lively monkeys... represent dance and music?"


    Alisa nodded.


    "Yes, the adorable monkey symbolizes dance and music, as well as art and aesthetics. Moreover, it represents play and fun. The Monkey God "Ozomatli" is the companion of the God of music and dance, "Xochipilli"...


    At this point, the girl blinked, and looked earnestly into the boy¡¯s eyes.


    "However, monkeys with their lively nature, cannot restrain their hearts. They also symbolize desire and passion... Xiulote, do you also have a monkey in your heart?"


    Looking into Alisa¡¯s pure eyes and hearing her inquiry, Xiulote stood frozen. He wanted to say something, but felt oaths were meaningless, as everything would change with time. In the end, the boy just stepped forward, holding the girl tightly, and whispered affirmations in her ear,


    "No... at least for now, you are the only one in my heart... As for the future, no matter what, you will always be the most important person to me... I will prove my feelings to you, I will tell you my deepest secrets..."


    Alisa¡¯s gaze first dimmed slightly, then brightened again. She looked at the boy, smiling trustingly and joyfully. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Shortly after, the two came to the edge of the pond paved with White Stone, watching the colorful fish swimming through the different pools.


    Xiulote first looked at the two-meter big fish in the saltwater pool and after recognizing it for a while, he swallowed. This was a tribute from the Totonac people during the King¡¯s coronation ceremony, the Red Grouper from the Gulf of Mexico. Red Grouper was an extremely delicious grade of fish, where the flesh could be made into sashimi, and the head into a delicious soup.


    "Hmm, sometime I¡¯ll have to ask Aweit for some, just right to cook for Alisa."


    Watching the big fish contentedly swishing in the water, the boy took mental note, longing in his heart.


    Then, Xiulote turned to the ornamental fish pool nearby. Inside swam the Panter Grouper, with black scales edged in bright gold, and deep blue beside the eyes. They scattered and glided in the lake, like radiant lights in the water, or shooting stars across the sky.


    This fish could live for over ten years and was later known as the "French Angel". Among the nearly half-meter-long adult fish, were scattered juveniles of variable size, from one finger long to the size of a hand. From time to time, the juveniles would clean parasites off the adult fish or compete with one another.


    Watching the fighting juveniles and the independent adults, Xiulote fell into a long contemplation. After a moment, he turned to the girl with a meaningful smile,


    "Alisa, the world is a cycle. The story of animals is the cycle of animals. This is the cycle of life and also of human existence. From birth, animals face the competition to survive, and only healthy individuals can endure their fragile youth...


    And as adults, competition is omnipresent, from food to mates, from survival to reproduction, right up to ruling the group¡¯s power. In nature¡¯s jungle, only the strong can have everything. At the same time, they must be extremely careful, to not get injured or fall ill, showing their vulnerability. Because the stronger one is, the less they have to rely on...


    Yet, they will eventually grow old, and cannot avoid ageing and frailty, thus their glory fades away. The end of life is a solitary march towards death, giving up everything they acquired, for new strong ones to take over...


    The cycle of human life is the alternate of life and death, also alternating human power! In the distant past, no one could change all this. For the unknown future, I still do not know how it will be..."


    Alisa looked at Xiulote, confused by his words, but sensed the weight of his experiences. The girl thought for a while, stood on tiptoe, imitating her father¡¯s gesture, and patted the boy¡¯s head, then playfully smiled.


    Xiulote¡¯s complex emotions were interrupted by the girl¡¯s action. He was stunned for a moment before he also smiled.


    Afterward, the boy raised his head, his eyes meeting the crimson twilight, his ears catching a faint chant. Twilight had arrived, night was approaching, the grand New Year Sacrificial Rite was drawing to a close, and a day in Peach Blossom Land was finally returning to reality... He thought of what he most wanted to say but hadn¡¯t, and made a decision.

 Chapter 266 - 145: Date and Science Popularization Part 3

    Soon, the night fell. The two sat at the top of the Temple of the Feathered Serpent, on a thirty-meter-high pyramid, watching the dazzling stars.


    The place was under renovation, and the statue of the Feathered Serpent Divine had been melted down. A long breeze passed through, leaving the temple empty except for the two of them alone. At their feet, the pyramid was covered with fresh flowers offered to the gods by the residents of the Capital City, interspersed with twinkling gemstones. Clearly, the old beliefs could not be changed overnight; the Feathered Serpent Divine still lived in people¡¯s hearts. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Below their feet was a sky of flowers, a cluster of gemstone stars, and above their heads was the night sky, the brilliant Milky Way. Xiulote and Alisa sat side by side on the edge of the temple, looking at the distant Milky Way, gazing at the eternal beauty, quietly wordless. The girl gently swung her legs in mid-air, while the boy carefully held her close.


    Xiulote gazed at the infinitely clear Milky Way of the Middle Ages, with thousands of stars twinkling within it. The multitude of stars, like the sands of the Ganges, were distant and unknown in their destination, vast and immeasurable¡ªthis was the eternity of time. Yet the people under the stars were so brief and vague. They wish only to streak across the sky like meteors, leaving dazzling marks, burning never to return...


    At this moment, Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but recall his past life, thinking of a poem he wrote to himself when he turned eighteen. Now, it seemed quite fitting. The name of the poem was "Eternity."


    "Eternity... standing at the summit of thousands of mountains, bone-chilling wind stirring the flapping clothes.


    A fresh world, a familiar breath."


    "Silently gazing at the vault of heaven. The gaze between the brows, piercing through the boundless azure seas.


    The metallic trees, flowing with endless vitality."


    "Time, leaving behind tender, crystal clearness, the dazzling distant sky, the shattered fragments.


    I hear, a call from the blue depths in my heart, come!


    Whether it be the dazzling constant stars, the shadowy moon, or the stars hidden in the profound depths,


    They all gaze down upon the mass of life from above the Nine Heavens..."


    Now, looking back on this youthful poem and feeling his past emotions, Xiulote¡¯s eyes suddenly deepened.


    The eternity he once yearned for, will it really last? Or will it end somewhere far from the pyramid of the moon... a new world arrives, a lonely transmigrator searching. He was listening to the call in his heart, seeking the anchor of life, searching for the eternal crystal in time... Maybe, he might finally ascend to the Nine Heavens, overlooking all lives below. And by then, what would be his pursuit in life?


    Xiulote did not know the answer. He just felt a strong desire to confide, to tell someone willing to fully believe. So, he reached out, pressed Alisa¡¯s shoulders, looking into those clear eyes, serious and sincere.


    "Alisa, the brief human world above, is the eternal starry sky. There, are the sun, the moon, and the stars... When Aweit and I first met, we talked about the stories of the sun and the moon... but I still want to tell you about the starry sky."


    Alisa, the world is a cycle. The story of the starry sky is the cycle of time. Time silently advances, I once thought it was an eternal one-way flow, from the destined past to the infinite future... However, when the stars fell, I made a wish, traversing five hundred years, destined to meet you...


    Yes, I do not belong to this era, I am just a drifting soul... In the cycle of time, a soul proceeds in one direction, continuing itself, yet losing memories, encountering others, yet lonely in farewells... He longs for nobility, pursuing ideals, willing to do everything to change history... Yet still harbors a wish deep in his heart...


    He is just hoping that one day, there will be someone who can fully understand him, with minds in harmony and interests aligned. He can entrust all his trust, reveal the truth of his heart, draw close to each other¡¯s chests, and henceforth warm each other... accompanying each other to the very end...


    Alisa, my lover. Now, do you see my heart clearly?"


    Alisa looked at Xiulote, feeling the boy¡¯s unprecedented vulnerability and loneliness. Slowly, her bright eyes began to fill with tears. The girl cautiously moved closer, approaching that tenderly preserved softness in time. Then, without a word, she slowly, firmly, embraced the boy tightly.


    After a long time, Alisa spoke softly yet firmly.


    "Xiulote, I will protect you."


    In the long river of time, she reached out, grasped the drifting soul, and gently placed it in her heart. From then on, under the witness of the starry sky, across time and power, a vow to guard for life was made.

 Chapter 267 - 146 Foreshadowing

    The galaxy vast, the human world fleeting. In this moment, as time flies with the companionship of green plums, in silence, spanning distances, one hears the whispers of the heart.


    After an indeterminable length of time, the King¡¯s guard, following the stone steps and treading lightly under the moonlight, arrived quietly. Xiulote nodded with a smile, while Alisa glanced back reluctantly several times before she left gently with the guard.


    The youth sat alone atop the pyramid, looking up to see the high-hanging moon, the stars unchanged. His turmoil gradually subsided, muttering to himself.


    "The steps to heaven are cool at night like water... If one were alone, would this not be the state of mind?"


    Afterward, Xiulote stood up calmly, and in the middle of the night, he seemed to have matured much. In this world, he anchored himself once more, finding the spiritual refuge he sought.


    Moments later, the youth gazed at the empty Temple of the Feathered Serpent, where the ancient and dignified murals still remained, praising the birth of the Feathered Serpent Divine. He ruled the morning star, invented writing and the calendar, selflessly bringing corn to humankind. In the myths of Central America, He is the sole deity symbolizing peace and prosperity. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Will He vanish completely from history?"


    Xiulote stood silently for a long time, simulating the future in his mind, his gaze probing into history. He thought of Martin Luther¡¯s religious reformation, and also of Han Yu¡¯s classical prose movement, pondering deeply.


    "Let Him be a foreshadowing! After sufficient contact with the Westerners, after the priests begin to solidify their ways, then let the theologians unearth it anew. This will be a prelude akin to the Renaissance."


    Xiulote nodded to himself. Then he turned around to see Bertade standing quietly not far away, his gaze serene, his visage weathered. The youth nodded to the Head Warrior and made his way to the High Priest¡¯s Mansion.


    Walking through the Temple District after the ceremony, Xiulote looked around calmly.


    Not far away, in the mansions of the Nobility, lights of feasting sparkled, songs of celebration floated on the air. The solemn drum beats resonated, as the exalted danced profoundly, the merry flutes played, the maidens soared. Amidst the grand night¡¯s praises, the Mexica sang their hearts out, drinking merrily until dawn, reveling in the festivity¡¯s joy, seeking solace for their souls.


    In the sounds of celebration, Xiulote trod over sticky fluid beneath his feet. It was congealed blood, the lives sacrificed, awaiting the washing of the morrow after the revelry. The Mexica¡¯s festival sacrifices were like the grand gladiatorial rites of Ancient Rome, appeasing the populace with fresh blood, upholding martial customs, maintaining the thirst for conquest.


    In the moonlight, the youth strode unfazed. After the softness of midnight, time had forged him once again, his heart now as firm as iron.


    Before long, Xiulote entered the High Priest¡¯s Mansion with large strides, heading straight for the great hall. Upon entering the hall, the youth saw his grandfather standing alone in the center, clad in a wide plain robe, slightly bent over, washing his hands in a pottery bowl in the corner.


    Xiulote waved his hand, signaling the Head Warrior to leave. Then, after waiting a moment, he approached his grandfather quietly, bowing respectfully.


    Upon hearing the greeting, the High Priest suddenly came to realization. He took his hands out of the pottery bowl, straightened up slowly, then turned to smile warmly at the youth, his voice slightly hoarse.


    "Xiulote, my child, are you back? I have been sacrificing all day, hands covered in plenty of blood, just washed them thoroughly... Just in time, I have some important matters to discuss with you."


    Seeing his grandfather¡¯s graying hair, the exhaustion on his face, Xiulote stepped forward and gently embraced the frail old man.


    "Grandfather, you¡¯ve toiled all day, please sit and rest for a while. I¡¯ll come to discuss with you later."


    The High Priest nodded, turned, and walked slowly to sit down in the center of the hall, closing his eyes to rest.


    Xiulote bent down, just about to pick up the pottery bowl, when his eyes firmed. In the bowl, there was only clear water, not a trace of blood to be seen. He stood frozen for several moments, then, maintaining his composure, he went out, emptied the water from the bowl, and calmly returned.


    The youth placed the bowl neatly, sat cross-legged opposite his grandfather, and waited in silence. The grandfather appeared very tired. He napped briefly with his head bowed, before abruptly waking up, raising his head to see the youth opposite him, and laughed at himself.


    "Ha ha, I¡¯m certainly getting old, my eyesight isn¡¯t what it was, and neither is my strength... When I followed the Predecessor Monarch, I could don Armor and charge into battle, fight for two days without retreating... Even a few years ago, I could study the Feathered Serpent murals of our ancestors all day, translating them into poetry overnight..."


    The grandfather was somewhat rambling today, Xiulote listened with a smile on his face. Then, he silently reached out, holding his grandfather¡¯s calloused hand.


    The High Priest paused for a moment, then laughed and shook his head, pulling his hand back. He straightened his back, displaying some resolution, and when he spoke again, there was a touch of emotion in his tone.


    "In accordance with the will of the Predecessor Monarch, I¡¯ve studied the Feathered Serpent Divine all my life, intending to use it to unite the peoples under heaven... but who would have thought that in my old age, I would completely abandon Him, follow the wishes of the elders, and become the High Priest of the Chief Divine... Even less did I expect that today I would personally announce His demise, attributing all glory solely to the Chief Divine!...


    My child, how unpredictable life is. The initial sun Tezcatlipoca controlled fate, like the wind of night omnipresent, elusive and incomprehensible; who could have deciphered Him? And now, even He will step down as a minor deity and return destiny to the Chief Divine... from now on, the Chief Divine almighty..."


    The High Priest¡¯s voice gradually deepened, turning into a chant-like murmur, closing his eyes in prayer.


    Xiulote watched his grandfather with concern, his face showing worry. The Predecessor Monarch his grandfather recalled was naturally not the short-lived Tizoc, but Montezuma I, who had ruled the Empire for thirty years. The grandfather of the past had never been so melancholic and sentimental.

 Chapter 268 - 146 Foreshadowing_2

    After a while, the High Priest eventually reopened his eyes, regaining his usual astuteness and decisiveness. His expression then turned serious as he spoke.


    "How did your meeting with the princess go today?"


    Xiulote smiled genuinely from the heart.


    "Very well. I am devoted to her, and she to me. The Hummingbird and the newly bloomed lotus are in harmony, just awaiting the day of bloom."


    Feeling the young man¡¯s genuine joy, the High Priest smiled in satisfaction.


    "Good! My child, you need to delve deeper into the princess¡¯s heart, thereby leaving a groundwork at the King¡¯s side!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression froze. He pondered his grandfather¡¯s words, harboring uneasy speculations in his mind.


    "Leaving... groundwork...?"


    The High Priest nodded solemnly. He did not hesitate, and spoke in a deep voice.


    "Although it¡¯s not fully decided yet, today a plan has been set... You are my hope, and naturally, I would not hide big matters from you... My child, I intend to push for your enfeoffment to an outer fief, within the next year or two. You need to prepare in advance and lay some groundwork in the Capital City!"


    Xiulote was shocked. He widened his eyes, looking puzzled at his grandfather.


    "Enfeoffment to an outer fief within a year or two? The Divine Revelation Place has only been operating for two months, the gunpowder on Heavenly Fire Island has just been developed, and it¡¯s only tonight that Alisa and I confessed our feelings for each other... Why such haste?!"


    The High Priest shook his head solemnly, his face affirmative.


    "This matter is essential. Though it was my idea, Gillim was the first to approach me about it. ¡¯The King¡¯s eyes¡¯ cannot act without the King¡¯s consent; Aweit has likely already agreed... Once a rift has occurred, suspicions of power will persist and grow over time... S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Wise men always sense the upcoming rainy season from the moisture in the wind and thus plant seeds for the future in advance. My child, you have always been intelligent, and you should know that the Lake Capital City can only have one Monarch. Combined, our positions already pose a threat to the King¡¯s power. The better you perform in all aspects, the more inevitable the outcome...


    A strong Jaguar can only live peacefully if separated into different mountains. Surely you do not wish for us to eventually take a desperate risk, stepping over the King¡¯s blood to ascend to the highest position?"


    After hearing his grandfather¡¯s words, Xiulote¡¯s expression rapidly changed, and numerous images flashed through his mind.


    He recalled Aweit¡¯s smile, imagined him lying in a pool of blood, and shuddered. Then, he remembered a dream long ago, where he sat on the throne, his face both cruel and indifferent. Lastly, the image settled on a girl in white, her pure eyes, innocent smile, suddenly crying as she drifted away.


    "Why such haste..."


    Xiulote was dazed, murmuring to himself softly. He strongly wanted to stand up immediately, go to the Montezuma Palace to seek out his teacher and good friend, and explain his genuine feelings. However, his body felt as if controlled by an underground spirit, rooted to the spot, unable to stand.


    Watching Xiulote struggle to accept the situation, the High Priest extended a hand, gently stroking his hair while grasping the young man¡¯s hand with the other.


    Only after a long while did Xiulote finally sigh deeply, once again showing determination.


    "Grandfather, Aweit... How did Gillim discuss this with you?"


    The High Priest looked calmly at the young man, his gaze carrying hidden reluctance.


    "After today¡¯s sacrificial rite, we discussed it again. Although specific details are yet to be determined, we have settled on the rough time and location...


    Within the next one or two years, you will, as a successor to the Royal Family, be enfeoffed to oversee a region, and marry the princess by the age of twenty at the latest. Unless called for military service, you must not return to the fief on your own. A few years later, just as I go to the Divine Kingdom, you will be able to return to the Lake Capital City."


    Hearing this, Xiulote again showed shock. He gazed at his grandfather, gripping his hand tightly, a rare hint of fear visible.


    "Grandfather, your health..."


    The High Priest smiled kindly, rubbing the young man¡¯s head again.


    "My child, do not worry. Although this old body is no longer agile, it should last until you and the princess are married. Then, I can also go to meet the Chief Divine and see our Predecessor Monarch in peace..."


    Continuing without pause, the High Priest spoke earnestly.


    "I have carefully considered the location for the enfeoffment... Two weeks ago, Gillim asked me how the northern Xilotepec fief would be, and I directly refused it.


    Xilotepec is only four or five hundred miles from Lake Capital City, with messengers taking only a few days along the water routes, firmly controlled by the Capital City. The area, long ravaged by war, has scant population and fallow fields. To its east lies the loyal Vastec, to the west the resilient Otomi mountain people, and to the far north rove the indomitable Canine Descendants, leaving little room for expansion.


    As for the East, naturally, I would not allow you to venture deep among Tlaxcala people and establish a footing in the Totonac coastal City-States; that place is too perilous... The only two options left are to the south and west.


    Though the land of the Mistec people to the south is fertile, it is merely a place to just survive. The situation there is complicated, with local Tribes interlinking. Although subdued several times by the Alliance, they always prove treacherous. The even more unstable Zapotecs lie further south.


    Only the lands in the west, Tarasco territory, provide an opportunity for great achievements! Tarasco¡¯s capital, Qinchongcan, is six or seven hundred miles from the Alliance, without direct water connections, beyond the reach of the Alliance¡¯s whip.


    There lies the fertile Patzcuaro Lake region, where, akin to the Alliance, large-scale high-yield Chinampas can be built; there are abundant open-pit copper mines, which can be used to manufacture bronze equipment, train powerful legions, and develop trade with copperware; the area is full of territories suitable for expansion, the west and north Tesquipan Alliance is loose and weak, the south slightly eastern Tlapanecs are similarly feeble and powerless...

 Chapter 269 - 146 Foreshadowing_3

    "Haven¡¯t you always been fixated on Colima? Set out from Qinchongcan, and after traveling seven hundred miles west, you¡¯ll reach the state of Colima. If we conquer the Chapala Lake Region at the far southwest of the Lerma River, and then head south from there for just over two hundred miles, we can penetrate deep into the heartland of Colima State. If there really is some ¡¯world-changing iron ore¡¯ there, this is the only way to launch an invasion!"


    Having said this, the High Priest once again stroked Xiulote¡¯s head, his tone heavy and full of profound meaning.


    "My child, distance implies autonomy, the lake region represents population, copper mines can be turned into military might, and expansion means having a future! Enfeoffed in the desolate lands of Michoacan, you will have a foundation to build upon. If the king is still alive in decades and you can¡¯t advance further to command the Alliance... then, you just control this place and sit tight, so that even if you step back, you can still carve out a territory for yourself and wait for the right moment!"


    Hearing about Colima State, and thinking about the grand iron mines there, Xiulote was invigorated. He suppressed all his fluctuating emotions and focused on deep contemplation. After a while, the young man asked in a grave voice.


    "Being enfeoffed here... Does Gillim not worry that our family might grow too strong in the west and become estranged from the Alliance?"


    The High Priest gave a light, mocking laugh, shaking his head with a complex expression.


    "We are a branch of the Royal Family to begin with, so how could we possibly become estranged from the Alliance? At most, we¡¯d be a separate entity from the main Royal branch in the east. Once Tarasco is conquered, Lake Patzcuaro is seven hundred miles from the Capital City, and even if messengers run back and forth in shifts, the fastest communication would still take twenty to thirty days. The Alliance must enfeoff Vassal Kings to stabilize the region.


    By enfeoffing you in this distant place, they avoid power struggles within the Capital City and leave the succession issue for the future. For the main branch of the Royal Family, it¡¯s like killing two birds with one stone, so naturally they¡¯d be willing.


    Moreover, the Tarasco Alliance is now more prosperous than ever, boasting fifty-thousand Samurai, able to mobilize a hundred-thousand Militia, and even call upon the tributary tribes of Texcoco. To completely conquer here, the entire Alliance needs to be mobilized, to march west with the nation¡¯s full force. Both branches of the Royal Family, the great and small Nobility, the inner and outer priesthood, the Temple Warriors directly affiliated and from the City-States... all forces must be mobilized.


    We need to be responsible for the Northern Route Army. This time, we also have to convene all the noble branches, bring out everything the Holy City has, mobilize the Temple Warriors of the Priesthood, and go to war with all our might. This promised fief is to be won with the blood of our Samurai!"


    At the end, the High Priest¡¯s words were filled with impassioned and heroic sentiment. His eyes shone with confidence, as if he were back in his spirited younger years. However, his aged body could no longer support the ambitions in his heart. Moments later, he bent over coughing forcefully.


    Xiulote quickly stood up, helped the High Priest rub his chest and back, soothing his breaths. Then the young man brought a cup of water and let his grandfather moisten his throat.


    It was quite some time before the High Priest spoke again, his voice hoarse.


    "Today¡¯s New Year Sacrificial Rite went smoothly, massive in scale, and intimidated the other states. It looks like this year¡¯s tributes from all the states shouldn¡¯t be an issue. After two such rites, the morale of the tens of thousands of warriors in the Alliance is high. They will continue to wait for two more months. Once the tributes from the states are fully delivered, they will decide on the targets for the campaign.


    This time, as long as the southern states don¡¯t cause major trouble, the Alliance will temporarily hold off. The real campaign west will start after the autumn harvest. But come April, the direct Samurai will start to mass, pressuring the border of the Tarasco people, forcing them to be on alert. This will exhaust their food supplies and disrupt their spring farming!


    We have tens of thousands of chinampas, which will allow us to deploy part of the large army during the farming season, wreaking havoc on the agricultural production of the city-states, which is also the reason they fear us."


    My child, when the time comes, you will need to lead thousands of elite soldiers, most of the naval forces, to find a foothold along the Lerma River in the north in advance, and repeatedly harass the people of Tarasco in the north. If the naval forces can penetrate into Cuitzeo Lake, they would be able to completely destroy the farming of several City-States in the northern part of Tarasco, creating hundreds of thousands of refugees, consuming massive amounts of their food and population, and reducing their potential for war!


    This will make the conquest by the Northern Route Army easier in the fall, but you must measure your capabilities, especially relying on the naval forces."


    Hearing the plan to disrupt the spring planting, Xiulote nodded silently. The tragic plight of the Otomi once again emerged in his mind, the young man closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, his heart was as firm as iron.


    The High Priest continued to drink some water, rested for a moment, and then commanded another important matter.


    "This time Uguel returned from Xilotepec and talked about the situation in the northern stronghold. If what he said is true, your suggestion of handling different social strata separately should be very effective and could be promoted in the conquered regions. The Otomi Warriors, once shattered in spirit and converted, become quite devout and constitute a force that the Priesthood can effectively control. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In two days, the Council of Elders will redistribute the two thousand minor nobility and Samurai from Texcoco to be exiled to the northern stronghold, and I will have Uguel lead another expedition northward, also taking along generous gifts to present to the noble family Osellor of the Royal Family. Osellor is about to assume the post of the new City Lord of Xilotepec, and he has always been on good terms with Uguel.


    When you lead troops to the north in April, first meet with Osellor and try to establish a connection, or make others believe that you have established one. At the same time, check the condition of the four thousand Otomi Warriors; if this legion can be of use, drill them a bit and admit them into the Northern Route Army after the autumn harvest.


    The northern stronghold is strategically located; this will be another gambit! Although the chances of utilizing it are slim..."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote prostrated in salute, bowing in compliance. He pondered the western campaign plan, slowly igniting a fighting spirit in his heart.


    Not until the night deepened did the High Priest finally finish instructing on all the important matters. His face could no longer hide the signs of fatigue. The young man stepped forward to help his grandfather to the bedroom to rest. Soon after, the grandfather fell into a deep sleep. In his sleep, he still occasionally furrowed his brows.


    Xiulote watched his sleep-disturbed grandfather and heaved a gentle sigh. The usually strong High Priest was nothing more than a frail mortal at that time, bearing the burdens of the Alliance and the Royal Family, his life like a candle in the wind.


    After a moment of silence, the young man quietly left. He walked to the courtyard, standing under the cold moonlight, gazing at the distant stars. Over the course of the night, he was overwhelmed with emotions. At first tender as water, then protective as a mountain, at times worrying like the wind, and at other times burning like fire. A hundred flavors surged in his heart, yet were difficult to express. Many expressions played across his face, finally settling into calmness.


    After a long while, the night breeze blew, giving Xiulote a slight chill. He tightened the black robe around him and smiled faintly.


    "The air has grown cool, signaling a fine autumn indeed. As the wind rises, the clouds should dance."


    The young man then nodded towards the stars and turned to retire for the night. He slept peacefully, dreamless.

 Chapter 270 - 147 Planning the Western Expedition Part 1

    Under the same starlit sky, Alisa followed the guard back to the familiar and warm Montezuma Palace. As she walked through the corridor, where the lights flickered, and entered the slightly dim main hall, she saw her father had been waiting for a long time.


    Dressed in a luxurious home robe embellished with exquisite, gold-inlaid suns¡ªa tribute from the people of Mistec¡ªAweit held a very large, ancient wooden plank in his hands, discussing something in a low voice with Gillim. The two occasionally pointed to a certain part of the plank, their fingers measuring, their expressions serious and solemn.


    Upon seeing Alisa¡¯s return, Aweit¡¯s face broke into a smile, looking tenderly at his beloved daughter.


    "Alisa, did you have a good time today?"


    "Yes, Father. I¡¯m very happy when I¡¯m with Xiulote."


    Alisa smiled genuinely, the corners of her mouth cutely upturned. She stepped forward, clutching her father¡¯s hand and inadvertently glancing at the wooden plank he held.


    On the plank was an abstract representation of mountains, rivers, lakes, and towns, seemingly a map passed down through many years. At the very center of the map was presumably the Lake Capital City, marked by a large, golden sun. Many additions and modifications had been made to the map¡¯s west. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The most eye-catching feature on the map was a large red circle, marked on another lake to the west of the center, opposite Lake Capital City over a series of tall mountains. A long blue river ran north and south, including both the red circle and the capital within its path. Near the rivers on the northeast and southeast sides of the red circle were two blue circles.


    "Father, what is this?"


    Alisa tilted her head to the side, looking at the detailed map and asking out of curiosity.


    "Nothing much, just some plans for the future."


    Aweit affectionately stroked his daughter¡¯s head and then tenderly pinched Alisa¡¯s cheek, his eyes filled with a rare tenderness.


    Gillim gave the princess a solemn bow. Then, he gently slid the wooden plank out, cradling it in his arms, and quietly stepped back a few paces.


    Feeling Aweit¡¯s affection, Alisa gently nestled into her father¡¯s embrace. Her face once again beamed with happiness as she whispered.


    "That¡¯s wonderful. Father, I want to stay with you and Xiulote forever, just like this."


    At her words, Aweit paused, his expression briefly freezing before resuming its warmth as he smiled at his daughter.


    "You will. As long as I am here, you need not worry about anything."


    Then, Aweit looked down with a smile, gazing into Alisa¡¯s innocent eyes.


    "My daughter, what did you and Xiulote do today?"


    Alisa blinked. She thought for a moment, her cheeks turning slightly red.


    "We went boating on the lake, looked at flowers in the garden, then saw animals and fish, and finally went up the pyramid to watch the stars. Xiulote told me many interesting stories, and he also said he would find me a teacher and picture books, to study alchemy."


    As per her agreement with the young man, she didn¡¯t mention the story about the starlit sky; it was a secret shared only between the two of them.


    Looking at Alisa¡¯s blushing face, Aweit¡¯s heart sank. His hands rested on his daughter¡¯s shoulders as he observed her with worried, serious eyes.


    "Alisa, did Xiulote... do anything strange to you?"


    "Strange?" The girl tilted her head, her eyes showing confusion.


    "...Like getting very close to you... standing too close, or the sound of singing..."


    Aweit described cautiously. In his heart, his daughter was still the innocent little sprite.


    Alisa thought for a moment, her gaze clear as she looked at her father with a pure smile.


    "Father, are you talking about the songs of courtship? No, Xiulote just hugged me and kissed my cheek. He mentioned he wanted to have children with me, but he seemed unsure of how the songs of courtship work, innocently thinking it involved the offering to the spirits... Hmm, I think I know how it¡¯s done, maybe I can teach him later."


    Aweit first felt relieved but then a bit irritated at the young man. Following his daughter¡¯s last words, the dignified King was flabbergasted. His heart felt like a garden in the February wind, its petals scattered all around.


    "...Alisa... how do you know about the content of the songs of courtship..."


    Alisa smiled joyfully, her radiant smile clear and innocent.


    "It¡¯s all on the murals and in the poems of the Spirits; it¡¯s our way of reproduction and also another form of male conquest. The murals depict it very clearly. Uncle Asayacatl was once defeated in the south and captured by the Chalko City-State, and he used the songs of courtship to conquer the female Chieftains there.


    Uncle even left a poem, which detailed the process of conquest... The last line is ¡¯Young man, lie down slowly, empty your spirit. Ah, my beloved, King Asayacatl.¡¯..."


    As his daughter recited the poem, the dignified King and the cold Commander-in-Chief both pressed a hand to their foreheads, overwhelmed with headache. That was his elder brother¡¯s poetry... After a while, the gentle father managed to collect himself, smiling ruefully.


    "Alisa, when did you see this? I never showed you your uncle¡¯s poetry."


    Not receiving the praise she anticipated, Alisa¡¯s cheeks puffed slightly. She looked at her father with a somewhat disheartened demeanor.


    "Um, Father, when you were away these past two years, I saw all the murals here and memorized all the poems. After that, I could only watch the flowers and trees, noting their shapes... Did I get it wrong? Then I¡¯ll check again when I get back..."


    "No, no, no, you¡¯re not wrong, Alisa. But these poems are beyond you, don¡¯t worry about them..."

 Chapter 271 - 147: Planning the Western Expedition, Part 2

    Aweit decisively shifted the conversation, maintaining a gentle tone.


    "My daughter, you just said you wanted to find a teacher. Do you wish to study alchemy, why is that?"


    Alisa nodded vigorously, her eyes brightening once again.


    "Yes, Father. I love alchemy and want to make both you and Xiulote happy."


    Aweit pondered for a moment and then slowly nodded with a smile.


    "Very well. As it happens, I too am skilled in potion-making, though it¡¯s been quite some time since I had the opportunity to concoct. When I have a moment, I will teach you about the basic properties of medicinal plants, there¡¯s no need to call for a Priest... From now on, I will entrust you with the potions I take, my dear daughter. Only you can I fully trust."


    With her father¡¯s permission, Alisa¡¯s face bloomed into a radiant smile.


    "Father, I will study diligently! In the future, I will take good care of you and Xiulote..."


    Aweit nodded with a smile and once again gently pinched his daughter¡¯s cheek. In the corner, Gillim¡¯s expression underwent a slight change. He wanted to say something, but then chose not to speak.


    The bonfire flickered, filling the hall with warm light. It was a good while before Alisa bid her father goodnight and went off to rest with a light step, softly singing a happy song under her breath.


    Aweit listened with a smile until the song faded completely, and then his demeanor slowly returned to seriousness.


    By now, Gillim stood silently beside the throne. He pondered for a moment before cautiously suggesting.


    "Your Majesty, with no Queen to preside over the court, the Princess lacks instruction in the affairs of men and women. Such matters are difficult for you to broach... With the affairs of the Alliance settled, it is time to choose a new Queen."


    On hearing this, Aweit¡¯s gaze sharpened. He thought for a moment, his expression shifting slightly, before speaking in a low voice.


    "The war is urgent. After this western campaign, we will find a stepmother for Alisa! Remember to have the daughters of the Royal Family come over when they can to chat with Alisa. I will see which one is best for her..."


    Gillim solemnly accepted the order, then once again brought out the wood map, laying it in front of the King.


    "Your Majesty, as you can see, the Eight States of the Tarasco people are actually no smaller than the Alliance. To the north of the Tarasco Kingdom is the state of Akanbaro. They have always faced the Otomi across the Lerma River, but the Alliance¡¯s campaigns of the last two years have hit the Otomi hard, and the northern states of Otapan and Guamare State are retreating.


    In recent months, the Tarasco people have taken advantage of this to expand northwards, already gradually gaining control of both banks of the Lerma River. If not for our grain treaty with Otapan and the threat of the Alliance¡¯s Naval Forces, the Tarasco people would have likely crossed north to besiege Otapan City by now."


    Aweit nodded lightly, as if the battle on the Lerma River was still before his eyes. After contemplating for a moment, he inquired.


    "Since Xilotepec fell, how has our grain treaty with Otapan City been fulfilled?"


    "There is one last delivery of grain for thirty-four thousand people for one month that hasn¡¯t been made. Your Majesty, are you thinking...?"


    Gillim replied seriously, ready to offer counsel.


    "No, the treaty must of course continue, but we will add some conditions. We can provide even more grain to the Otomi, but they must mobilize to counterattack the Tarasco strongholds on both sides of the Lerma River. Spring planting hasn¡¯t begun yet, and the Otomi¡¯s Samurai and Militia aren¡¯t required for farming during these two months.


    The Alliance needs them to swiftly raid the northern border of the Tarasco people, even employing their Naval Forces to support them in crossing the Lerma River and raiding the towns and villages of Akanbaro State to the south. Such raids would also be profitable for them."


    Aweit instructed thoughtfully. In the game of war, there are only targets to achieve, no permanent enemies or friends. The Alliance must mobilize all forces that can be mobilized to enhance itself maximally and to divide and weaken the enemy to the greatest extent.


    "What if the Otomi are unwilling to agree?"


    "Then, the Alliance would halt this grain payment, re-enter into a state of war with the Otomi, and disrupt their spring planting in the spring," came the merciless voice, determining the fate of hundreds of thousands.


    Gillim nodded. Without the interference of vulnerable emotions, the King was always wise and decisive.


    "There is only one weakness you have, and I need to cover it for you..." thought the Intelligence Officer.


    "Your Majesty, following the Lerma River further west, within a dozen days is the Chapala Lake Region. Here lie the northwest two states of the Tarasco people, Zapotlan and Tzitzapan. This region has an extremely dense population, second only to the Patzcuaro Lake Region, with a population likely above six hundred thousand, able to mobilize twenty thousand warriors.


    However, these two states are several ten-day travels from the capital Qinchongcan, and the Tarasco King can¡¯t effectively control them. Should we send Envoys to attempt contact with local tribal leaders?"


    Gillim proposed seriously.


    Aweit considered for a moment. He wasn¡¯t familiar with the area, holding only vague impressions.


    "Beyond the Chapala Lake Region to the west, where the Lerma River empties into the endless West Lake, that would be the Halixco region, right? I remember that they are still at war there? Also, to the north of the Chapala Lake Region are the Chichimeca Canine Descendants?" sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, Your Majesty. On the edges of the Great Lake, the people of Tekos in Halixco State are still battling the Tarasco Kingdom. Unlike their southern kin, they have never submitted to the Tarasco Kingdom. And to the north of Chapala Lake are the Canine Descendants in the highlands forests."


    Aweit nodded gravely, issuing his orders.


    "Send three groups of Envoys. One to attempt to win over the Chapala Lake Region, to divide the strength of the Tarasco people. Another to reach out to Halixco State, supporting their resistance. Lastly, to bribe the northern Chichimeca Canine Descendants, inciting them to raid southward!"

 Chapter 272 - 147 Planning the Western Expedition Part 3

    The Chapala Lake Region already had a high degree of autonomy; as long as they were faced with real threats, the number of troops they could send to support the core region of the Tarasco Kingdom would not be significant."


    Gillim nodded in understanding and continued to explain.


    "The target of this western campaign is the core region of the Tarasco Kingdom, the Patzcuaro Lake Region. This area encompasses three states¡ªQinchongcan, Saka, and Apachigan. These three states have a population of about 800,000 people, can mobilize 25,000 Samurai, and have several times that number in militia. Among the three states in the lake region, there are three major cities¡ªQinchongcan, Ihuatzio, and Patzcuari. Of these, the capital Qinchongcan City is the largest and most heavily fortified."


    Aweit remained silent. The mountain and river topography of the core region of Tarasco had long been imprinted in his mind.


    "If we can conquer Qinchongcan City, execute the Divine Descendant of the false gods, the Tarasco Kingdom will crumble. The various City-States of the west and south will be like wolves without a leader, henceforth without allegiance to one another, easily swayed or defeated by the Alliance. To attack Qinchongcan City, there are two routes: north and south."


    The route for the Southern Army is closest to the Lake Capital City. The army would set out from the Capital, reaching the southwesternmost state of the Alliance, Raziko, in a matter of days. From there, they would head west and, as long as they crossed the buffer of mountain forests and conquered the state of Xitaqualo nestled in the mountains, after another ten or so days heading northwest, they would arrive at the prosperous and flat Patzcuaro Lake Region."


    The thriving Bronze Capital, Qinchongcan City, is located by the edge of Lake Patzcuaro. Of course, before it, there is the mutual support of Patzcuari and Ihuatzio cities."


    At this point, Gillim paused slightly and looked towards the King.


    Aweit nodded calmly.


    "I marched on this route myself several years ago. The mountain woodlands are extremely difficult to traverse, but there are several small rivers and streams that are relatively flat and easier to travel. The army¡¯s water supply and marching would need to follow these streams."


    "Reaching the state of Xitaqualo along the river, there are nearly ten stone fortresses of varying sizes, as well as dense wooden camps. The Tarasco people have used bronze tools to fortify this area over a decade, occupying each advantageous terrain, truly making it easy to defend but hard to attack. Although the southern route is shorter, to fully clear the way would still require the mobilization of a large army and a considerable effort."


    Having listened carefully, Gillim gave a solemn bow.


    "Your Majesty, if our Naval Forces can secure an advantage, we can split off ten thousand men to travel west along the Tarsas River, passing through the Land of Jontal, ignoring the mountainous tribe of Weytamo on the southern bank of the river, and directly land in the hinterland of the Patzcuaro Lake Region on the North Coast. That would allow us to bypass the state of Xitaqualo and deliver a fatal blow to the Tarasco people."


    Aweit nodded slowly. He pondered for a moment, his thoughts forming a plan, then spoke.


    "Remember to send another group of Envoys to the southernmost mountainous state of Weytamo in the Tarasco Kingdom to likewise woo the local tribal leaders and divide the Tarasco¡¯s forces. The Weytamo region has only seventy to eighty thousand Tarasco Tribes, living mixed among the wild tribes. They do not have many Samurai, and their willingness to support the core is weak. However, the terrain here is complex, the tribes are impoverished yet brave, making conquest by force difficult, and for the moment, we can spare no troops to subjugate them."


    "I recall, did Xiulote once send a caravan there to purchase copper?"


    Gillim nodded respectfully and reported in detail.


    "Yes, Your Majesty. His Highness indeed sent a caravan, led by a Mayan merchant who seems to have trading relations with the local Chieftain. The deputy was Kuluka. They have already opened up trade channels with locals, and just recently transported back the first copper ore shipment, with more expected to follow."


    Aweit showed a hint of satisfaction and commanded in a grave voice.


    "Gillim, go meet with Xiulote, then relay orders to the caravan to establish contact with the local Nobility and start subversion efforts. Tell them that whatever the Tarasco Kingdom has promised them, the Alliance can promise the same, and even bestow upon them double the amount of cotton cloth, salt, and Gold and Silver! Also, as long as they submit to the Alliance, we will fully support their local copper mining efforts, manufacturing profitable copper ware."


    "And once the western campaign is over, the Alliance, at all costs, wants to directly control the copper mines here. Relying on the Tarsas River, these ores can also be quickly transported to the Lake Capital City, transformed into sturdy bronze tools and weapons!"


    Upon hearing this, Gillim bowed again deeply, accepting the order with great respect. As he bowed his head, the Intelligence Officer smiled faintly, with profound implications.


    sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 273 - 148 Planning the Western Expedition Part 2

    The night grew deeper, and the bonfire in the main hall had diminished, letting a slight chill seep in from outside the windows, gradually cooling the hearts of those within. Sensing this, the Intelligence Officer moved forward and, in silence, added some charcoal to the fire. With that, the flames in the hall flickered, casting an intermittent glow.


    The King scrutinized the enormous wooden map, his finger tracing the long river, absorbed in deep thought.


    The Mexica domain is intersected by three great rivers that connect the highlands with valleys, and link the mountains with the plains, turning forests and rainforests into open paths. In fact, in an era devoid of animal-drawn vehicles and mountain pass roads, rivers served as the sole large-scale means of transportation, the lifeline of transportation for maintaining the vast City-State Alliance.


    Aweit¡¯s hand first caressed the north. War is nothing more than a battle for control of mountains and rivers, where soldiers give their lives. For the Mexica, national war priorities lay first in mountains, rivers, climate, second in food transportation, and only lastly in the legion¡¯s valor and combat prowess.


    The Lerma River is the greatest in the land, flowing majestically from east to west for about two or three thousand miles. At the river¡¯s easternmost part, it connects to the Lake Capital City through a man-made canal stretching for tens of miles. Every step of this canal was carved out at the cost of Tepanec lives.


    From there, the Lerma River continued westward for over two hundred miles, passing through several Mexica City-States on the west. The river then pressed further west for more than three hundred miles, forming a natural boundary. To the north lay the Otomi of Otapan State, and to the south, the northernmost state of the Tarasco, the Akanbaro State. Here, a branch of the river splits off, flowing through a narrow rivermouth, southwest for several miles, and into Lake Cuitzeo, penetrating deep into the heartland of the Tarasco.


    Aweit¡¯s firm finger lingered over Lake Cuitzeo for a long while before he slowly began to speak.


    "Gillim, the focus of the Northern Route Army should be right here."


    Gillim, eyeing the location of Lake Cuitzeo connected to the river above and the plains below, perfectly situated at the core of Tarasco¡¯s heartland, nodded in agreement.


    "Yes, Your Majesty. The Northern Route Army needs to first establish a foothold along the banks of the Lerma River, then clear the rivermouth, and make its way deep into Lake Cuitzeo. Just landing at the southernmost part of the lake puts us only two hundred miles from the Patzcuaro Lake region."


    The King pondered for a moment, reflective.


    "Gillim, relying on the great river, the Northern Route connects to the Capital City. With convenient food transportation, it¡¯s actually more suitable for mobilizing a large force than the Southern Route." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Gillim bowed deeply. He was well-prepared and now elaborated in detail.


    "Your Majesty, the grand strategy has already been agreed upon and should not be changed lightly... There are four difficult points on the Northern Route.


    First and foremost, the toughest challenge is to utterly defeat the Tarasco Naval Forces. The Tarasco people are lake dwellers, boasting a Militia skilled in naval warfare and a massive fleet that is no less formidable than the Alliance. Apart from their main naval forces within Lake Cuitzeo, they can also continue to summon fleets from the Chapala Lake Region to the west, rapidly bringing in support from Samurai."


    Unless these fleets are eradicated, a stable grain route cannot be established. And the prospect of totally defeating the Tarasco Naval Forces is extremely difficult! Although His Highness claims to be inventing gunpowder and has made some progress recently, the actual effectiveness of this new weapon is still uncertain. We cannot base the progress of the war on uncertainties!"


    Listening to the report of the Intelligence Officer, Aweit remained expressionless, continuing to listen attentively.


    "Secondly, the next major difficulty lies in the fortresses of the Tarasco Kingdom. The Tarasco are well aware of the significance of Lake Cuitzeo and have constructed a massive stone fortress at the narrow rivermouth spanning tens of meters, controlling the passage of the rivermouth. The entire rivermouth falls within the range of the fortress¡¯s archers and catapults, requiring the conquest of the fortress before being able to proceed further.


    Similarly, along the southern bank of the Lerma River, numerous stone fortresses and dozens of wooden stockades stand in defensive reliance on one another. According to the latest news, on the northern bank of the Lerma River, the Tarasco have taken over the wooden stockades you built and have begun reinforcing them with brick and stone, making full use of the construction efficiency of bronze tools."


    "Lastly, even if the fortresses are captured, and a southern landing is made along the southern shore of Lake Cuitzeo, a sturdy stone fortress called Huayamo stands between us and Qinchongcan."


    Only then did the King nod slightly. He turned to the Intelligence Officer, waiting calmly.


    Gillim paused briefly, organizing his thoughts, and spoke clearly.


    "Thirdly, we must consider the Otomi¡¯s stance. Although the Otomi have ceased hostilities with the Alliance and are also hostile to the Tarasco, and might even be utilized by the Alliance to some extent... there is no doubt that deep down, the Otomi harbor extreme animosity and vigilance towards the Alliance!


    "Once tens of thousands of the Alliance¡¯s main force deploy to both banks of the Lerma River, posing an actual substantial threat to Otapan City again, the Otomi might change their stance once more, allying with the Tarasco. And when the Alliance¡¯s main force gets mired in the southern fortresses, faced with the temptation of a battle that could obliterate the Mexica¡¯s main army, the Otomi might stab the Alliance in the back, severing the grain route and leading to the failure of the western campaign.


    "Even though these threats are merely conjectures, the Alliance¡¯s main forces cannot risk such a venture. And as a Monarch who has just ascended to the throne, you absolutely cannot fail in this inaugural war! Your elder brother lost the throne because of his failure... Such a risk... can be left to the detour forces of His Highness..."


    Aweit¡¯s pupils contracted slightly. He lowered his eyes and grasped the Divine Staff beside him.


    Gillim respectfully bowed his head, his actions meticulous even without the King¡¯s gaze upon him.


    "Your Majesty, the last point is the stance of the two western states of the Alliance. Tlalocan and Tepanecapan have both suffered losses in the last war. Thousands of Samurai fell in the Otomi forests, and food was heavily requisitioned. I fear that both states might not fully support this western campaign..."

 Chapter 274 - 148: Planning the Western Expedition, Part 2

    ```


    So, the majority of the Northern Route Army¡¯s food supplies still need to start from the Texcoco Lake District, traveling nearly five hundred miles along the water route. Meanwhile, the Southern Army will depart from the adjacent, wealthy state of Razico, where food has been stockpiled for years, allowing a supply route to be established locally. Before breaking through to Xitaqualo State, the land supply route is only a little over a hundred miles. Compared to this, northern river transport doesn¡¯t hold an advantage."


    The King finally nodded seriously. He paused for a moment, then issued his command in a deep voice.


    "Gillim, inform Xiulote of the above four points. Let him be aware of the difficulties of the campaign and make preparations in advance."


    The Intelligence Officer was slightly taken aback, then solemnly saluted and followed the command.


    After that, Aweit¡¯s finger left Cuitzeo Lake, tracing along the mighty Lerma River westward to where it met the sea in Halixco State; further out was the boundless Western Sea. He paused slightly; beyond the Western Sea, there were only the vaguely rumored islets, home to countless seabirds.


    The King¡¯s gaze turned back to the northeast of the Capital City, where lay the world¡¯s third-longest river, Tampen River.


    The Tampen River flowed from the southwest to the northeast, extending for over a thousand miles. Its origin was the Lake Capital City in the middle of Lake Texcoco, slightly northward connected by Lake Haltocan. Then, the Long River surged northward, passing through the northern City-States of the Mexica, all the way to the northernmost Xilotepec State, before turning northeast to cross Metztitlan State and reach the edge of the Highland.


    Next, the Long River plummeted sharply, flowing from the Mexican Plateau into the plains of the Vastec people, eventually joining the Eastern Sea in Cukuxicapan State. Beyond the Eastern Sea lay the mythical islands of the Feathered Serpent Divine and even further north, the endless white disastre of forests rumored to exist.


    The King extended his hand, casually placing it over the Vastec people¡¯s territory, and asked calmly.


    "How are the Vastec people doing recently?"


    Gillim pondered for a moment, then offered a slight smile.


    "Xilotepec has fallen, and the Noble has been offered as a sacrifice. General Osellor has replaced the City Lord and deployed troops to patrol the eastern borders. The Vastec people, terrified, have already paid this year¡¯s Tribute in full. As per the directions of the Elders, among the offerings are several dozen ¡¯large horned quadruped beasts¡¯ juveniles."


    Upon hearing this, Aweit suddenly showed interest.


    "Juvenile quadruped beasts? It is said they can grow as tall as a man and a half in length? I¡¯ve heard from Xiulote stories of riding beasts; could these giants be ridden?"


    Gillim first nodded in affirmation, then shook his head decisively.


    "Indeed, Your Majesty, according to the Vastec animal trainers, these giants can grow to tremendous size, running as fast as Thunderbolt. However, they are wildly untamed, and unless reared from infancy, strangers cannot approach them. Moreover, every spring, they have an extremely volatile breeding season. And even if reared from young, they will not regard us as masters, only as companions, and will not obey commands..."


    At this point, Aweit waved his hand dismissively.


    "If they cannot be ridden, place them in the zoo. First, have someone train them, then see if they can be tamed. Oh, and have someone take Alisa to see these exotic juveniles; she should find them enjoyable. Also, notify Xiulote. Remember, he is quite interested in such beasts, which he calls ¡¯wild oxen¡¯."


    The Intelligence Officer bowed in compliance. The King then continued to touch the map, contemplating the world.


    In the Vastec people¡¯s Cukuxicapan State, Tampen River was joined by another tributary flowing down from the mountains. And following this tributary westward, one could reach Coahuila, teeming with Canine Descendants of the Highland. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What¡¯s the situation with the Canine Descendants to the north?" Aweit first looked towards Coahuila State, where the Otomi people and their Canine Descendants were numerous. Then, his gaze moved south to Pamus State.


    "It¡¯s past mid-February, and the weather is dry and cold. The drought season has lasted long, with the rainy season yet to come. The northern deserts are filled with barrenness and withering yellow. The Chichimeca Canine Descendants lack food and are migrating south in waves. After last year¡¯s war, the Otomi people suffered heavy casualties, and Pamus State was scorched to desolation, also experiencing severe famine. At this time, the Otomi Samurai have all retracted to defend within the city. The Chichimeca Canine Descendants, unable to find food, will continue to move south."


    Looking south from Pamus State, there lies the northern border of Xilotepec State, also the actual northernmost control of the Mexica Alliance.


    The King furrowed his brow, deep in thought. On the banks of the Lerma River, the fierce Canine Descendants had left a profound impression on him.


    "Gillim, send a message to Osellor. The Alliance allows him to recruit Otomi Samurai. Instruct him to also move north in a timely manner, to sweep the Canine Descendants migrating south, and prevent them from gathering in large numbers. If there are Canine Descendant tribes willing to submit, they can also be admitted to the Alliance, used as vanguards for the western campaign."


    Saying this, Aweit allowed himself a faint smile.


    "If the Tarasco people could recruit Canine Descendants as expendables in war, the far wealthier Alliance can certainly do the same. As for the specific number of Canine Descendants to be recruited, let Xiulote communicate with Osellor about it when he moves north."


    "Your Majesty, having the Princess and the Commander-in-Chief meet privately in the north..."


    Gillim hesitated to speak further.


    Aweit glanced at the Intelligence Officer lightly and waved his hand.


    "No matter. Even with the changes in Texcoco, Osellor has but six thousand men at his command. Besides, with the High Priest there, even without the King¡¯s orders, they would surely meet in secret..."


    The King stopped there, not elaborating further. Then, he moved his finger further south, meticulously measuring the southern Tarsas River.


    The Tarsas River to the south of the Alliance, the world¡¯s second-longest river, meandered from east to west over two thousand miles. It originated from Tlaxcala State of the Tlaxcala people, irrigating the rich valley there. The King pressed firmly on the spot as if piercing the heart of the Tlaxcala Alliance.


    ```

 Chapter 275 - 148: Planning the Western Expedition, Part 3

    "How have the people of Tlaxcala been lately?" came the chilling voice, carrying the age-old murderous intent of the Mexica.


    "Your Majesty, since your ascension to the throne, the great army of the Tlaxcala has withdrawn from the border and has been disbanding gradually. At least until the autumn harvest, they will not gather in force. However, when the main force of the Alliance marches west, it will be difficult for the Tlaxcala to remain calm for long."


    The King nodded slightly, then commanded in a deep voice.


    "The Tarasco Kingdom in the north is adjacent to the State of Atotoztli of the Alliance, and to the south, it connects with the Xochipeople State. During the western campaign, neither of these City-States can divert their military force, and there¡¯s a need to further strengthen...


    The main force of the Alliance will take the southern route, and the supply lines are also in the south. The State of Xochipeople is particularly crucial, needing an addition of at least five thousand Samurai. We must also guard against the Naval Forces of Tlaxcala, preventing them from traveling southward along the Tarsas River, bypassing Xochipeople State to land." S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Gillim nodded seriously, recognizing the necessity of these actions.


    Then, Aweit looked around Tlaxcala, contemplating all the forces that could be utilized.


    "Are the Totonac people to the east of Tlaxcala willing to join the Alliance and send troops against Tlaxcala?"


    "The Totonac are weak and cunning sparrows, only capable of chirping shrilly, never truly acting."


    "How about the vassal Mistec people in the south?"


    "The Mistec are cautious like deer, merely guarding their own homeland. They are prosperous and harmless, whether to the Alliance or to the people of Tlaxcala."


    "What about the religious Holy City of Cholula? People from Tarasco are thorough believers in foreign gods. In this western campaign, we the Mexica will engage in a holy war. Witnessed by the gods, those of the same faith should not interfere with the divine battle."


    Upon hearing this, Gillim¡¯s eyes lit up. He pondered for a moment, then nodded seriously.


    "Your Majesty, it¡¯s worth a try. The religious reform of the Alliance is still limited to the Lake Region, and the priests of the Cholula Holy City have not been affected. The Priesthood has maintained contact with them, and honorable priesthoods are open to them. We can send an Envoy with generous gifts to have the priests of the Holy City temporarily prevent the Tlaxcala Alliance from sending troops, at least delaying them for several months."


    Aweit nodded slightly, making a decisive decision.


    "Then let the Elder Priest of Acap go. He is remarkably handsome, gentle, and gracious. Now he is the successor of the former Chief Priest, with a prestigious status, suitable for diplomatic duties! Also send envoys to the Totonac and the Mistec to make the Tlaxcala more wary."


    Gillim respectfully nodded and silently took note.


    The King¡¯s fingers continued to move, following the Tarsas River as it wound southward, flowing through the prosperous state of the Mistec people, and then turning west. Afterwards, the river followed the southern boundary of the Mexica City-States, passing through the sparse Qiongtal community in the mountains, and over a region with large bronze mines in the state of Weytamo.


    Aweit watched the bronze mine markers in Weytamo for a long time, his gaze moving westward again, following the river. The Tarsas River traversed the Lake Region of Apachigan, leaving many lakes behind. Finally, the river again wound southwestward, merging into the infinite Western Sea through the state of Coarcoman.


    The King¡¯s fingers lingered on the westernmost estuary, recalling carefully.


    "Is this the tribal Alliance of the Tekos in the south?"


    "Yes, Your Majesty. From here to the state of Colima in the west, there are at least three hundred thousand subjugated Tekos tribes. These southern Tekos have been subordinated to the Tarasco Kingdom for over a decade, even longer than the Alliance. Compared to the Alliance, the Tarasco Kingdom treats its vassals with leniency, even conducting blood-oaths with local leaders, forming a brotherly pact.


    Thus, in an emergency, the Tarasco Kingdom could likely mobilize at least ten thousand Tekos Samurai here, along with many more tribal Militia. Until the Divine Descendants of the Tlaxcala are severed, these Tekos Samurai are unlikely to waver."


    Gillim used his language cautiously.


    Aweit pondered deeply, then shook his head slightly.


    "Regardless of the effect, send a team of Envoys there. Even if they cannot persuade the local leaders, at least they can probe the local culture and geography. Xiulote has always mentioned Colima!"


    Aweit smiled slightly, his gaze softening with the memory. Then, he stretched out his hand, moving it back and forth between the Tarsas River and the Lake Capital City, searching for the distances from memory. This was the only major river not connected to the Capital City.


    After a long moment, the King reflected inwardly.


    "The closest point between the Tarsas River and Lake Texcoco should be just over three hundred miles. If we were to dig a canal connecting these two places... the Alliance could rapidly mobilize forces, and the main strength of the Naval Forces could also move southward from Lake Texcoco... and even move upstream from the south to strike at the southern part of Tlaxcala..."


    The King¡¯s eyes flared with a blood-red hue. In this era, to dig through a canal over three hundred miles long meant the consumption of hundreds of thousands of lives, taking over a decade. Yet, with bronze tools, perhaps only a hundred thousand lives would be needed. However, the effects of this canal would allow the Alliance to firmly control the entire south!


    After a while, Aweit recovered from his vast and brutal vision. He stood up, looking at the standing Gillim.


    "Gillim, you may go now. Tomorrow, visit the Craftsman district to check and count the production numbers of Longbows. Then, go find Xiulote and tell him all the critical intelligence and plans."


    Upon hearing this, the Intelligence Officer made a deep bow. Then, he solemnly got up, carefully taking the wooden board filled with intelligence, and bowed as he backed out.


    Aweit stood alone by the window, watching the high-hanging moon. It was a time when the stars were brilliant, wondering who else was gazing at the sky. Perhaps, that person also longed to ride the wind, soar out of the crowded Jungle, and look down on the masses from the mountains in the west.


    Standing in silence for a long time, the King finally murmured softly.


    "Very well. The days gone by never return. A King should alone sip the supreme wine of sovereignty... bitter yet prolonged!"

 Chapter 276 - 149: Stirrup Crossbow, the King’s Instructions, Human Force and Production

    The crisp end of February approached, yet the high sun remained warm. A steady breeze moved forward, passing through the solemn Samurai, brushing past the bustling craftsmen, and arriving at the vibrant Divine Revelation Place.


    In the northeastern weapon research area, Xiulote held a bulky Stirrup Crossbow, aiming at a straw man seventy steps away. The young man peered through the bronze crossbow machine¡¯s sighting device, carefully gauging the target. Then, he slightly lifted the crossbow, braced its end against his shoulder to stabilize it, and forcefully pulled the trigger.


    With a "whoosh" sound of the arrow, a shadow swiftly shot out like lightning. Xiulote¡¯s upper body suddenly leaned back, as if his shoulder had been pushed hard, followed by a dull "thud" noise from afar. When the young man looked carefully, the crossbow arrow had passed through the straw man and was firmly embedded in a wooden wall one hundred and fifty steps away, unyielding.


    The surrounding Samurai looked at the arrow stuck in the wall and quietly cheered for His Highness. Master Carpenter Kushinji remained silent.


    Bertade¡¯s gaze followed the trajectory of the feathered arrow, watching it brush past the armored straw man with a half-foot gap to spare, and he couldn¡¯t help but laugh silently. Then, the Head Warrior stepped forward, squinted his eyes, and saw the arrowhead deeply embedded in the timber, its tail still trembling. He stretched out his hand, at first gently, then with added force, and finally extracted the crossbow arrow. The bronze arrowhead was still sharp, but the wooden shaft already had a crack, making it unusable for further shooting.


    Xiulote maintained his composure, feeling embarrassed inside. He motioned for Bertade to step back. Subsequently, the young man positioned the bulky Stirrup Crossbow upright on the ground, braced its rope-wrapped body with his feet, pulled the string with both hands, exerted force with his legs, and slowly cocked the crossbow. He silently calculated that the cocking movement required just over ten seconds, and with the added complexity of shooting preparation, a skilled crossbowman could only shoot twice per minute.


    A few breaths later, Xiulote steadied the crossbow again, bending his knees slightly forward and back. He aimed at the straw man once more, using the previous experience to make slight adjustments to the angle. Subsequently, the young man slightly lowered his body and forcefully pulled the trigger, using his knees to absorb the impact, stabilizing the shot considerably.


    Another "whoosh" sounded, and seventy steps away, the chest of the straw man burst open as the crossbow arrow pierced through both layers of leather armor, then forcefully embedded itself in the mud behind. This time, the Samurai¡¯s cheers were especially loud.


    Xiulote lifted his head, looked at the warm sun, and wiped the sweat from his face. Then he waved his hand, gesturing for Kushinji to come over.


    The Master Carpenter approached with a serious expression, taking large steps closer, remaining silent, just looking at the crossbow in His Highness¡¯ hand.


    "Kushinji, you¡¯ve done well! This Stirrup Crossbow is very powerful, still able to pierce armor from one hundred fifty steps away!... What are its specific measurements?"


    Hearing His Highness¡¯ praise, Kushinji finally showed a smile.


    "As per your instructions, I made the body of the crossbow thicker and more robust, giving it a draw weight of 350 pounds. At a half-slant, this Stirrup Crossbow can reach a maximum range of about two hundred thirty steps, and it can pierce leather armor within one hundred sixty steps. Within one hundred twenty steps, even a Samurai clad in Double Armor cannot escape death! The great crossbow I¡¯ve crafted far exceeds Kuode¡¯s longbow!..."


    Xiulote slowly nodded, this power had reached his expectations. Based on the recent trial, the crossbow¡¯s accuracy was also within an acceptable range. He pondered for a moment and then asked.


    "Kushinji, I am planning to mass-produce this Stirrup Crossbow. What are its labor requirements? How long does it take for a craftsman to make one?"


    The Master Carpenter¡¯s expression stiffened. He shut his mouth, thought again and again, then spoke softly.


    "Each the arms and the body need one experienced carpenter for one to two days to make them sturdy enough. Stringing the bow takes even longer, although several can be done simultaneously. The bronze crossbow machine and the wooden case need a goldsmith for two days to make them precise enough. Then the assembly is done by me personally, adjusting and calibrating about one day... If accounted for a regular craftsman, it would take about... about seven or eight days to complete." S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote felt a heaviosity in his heart, the production efficiency was far from that of a longbow. The young man thought carefully, following this production rate; the Stirrup Crossbows couldn¡¯t be equipped on a large scale by October¡¯s westward campaign. Probably only a few hundred to a thousand could be assembled, to serve as a ¡¯long-range¡¯ strike force for the era.


    After thinking for a moment, Xiulote gave a firm order.


    "Kushinji, starting today, cease all other crossbow research. I will allocate several dozen more craftsmen to you, plus a group of apprentices for handling the wood. You just need to focus on making Stirrup Crossbows, at least one hundred fifty qualified Stirrup Crossbows per month! Additionally, I will give you hundreds of Samurai to assist you in making bolts and practice shooting here."


    Hearing His Highness¡¯ command, Kushinji solemnly saluted and responded in a deep voice.


    "Your Highness, I follow your will!"


    Xiulote carefully observed, Master Carpenter¡¯s face displayed genuine obedience and earnest confidence. The young prince nodded slightly, then turned and strode away.


    Leaving Divine Revelation Place, Xiulote already had plans, hurrying to the northern craftsmen¡¯s center. It had been some days since he last visited, and the scale here had further expanded, almost concentrating the entire manufacturing capacity of the Mexica Alliance.


    As the young man passed, thousands of craftsmen were tirelessly busy, loads of wood and cotton were transported in, crafted into powerful longbows, slotted war clubs, and thick cotton armor. Meanwhile, the stripped bark and offcuts were carried away by laborers, sent to the paper-making center as raw material for paper.

 Chapter 277 - 149: Stirrup Crossbow, The King’s Directive, Manpower and Production_2

    Xiulote had searched for quite a while before he found the dignified old craftsman Kuode in the center of the crowd. He was surrounded by a dozen apprentices, earnestly discussing something with a man in a black robe. When the young man looked at the man in the black robe again, his demeanor was meticulous, and his hair and attire were impeccable¡ªit was the Intelligence Officer Gillim.


    Seeing Xiulote approaching, Gillim gave a slight smile, then greeted him with a serious bow. The young man had no choice but to solemnly return the gesture.


    "Venerable Highness, I just so happened to be seeking you out for an important matter," said Gillim.


    Xiulote smiled gently. His gaze lingered for a moment on the fully scarred ears of the Intelligence Officer.


    "Gillim, I too have an important matter to discuss with you. However, you should have a message from Aweit, so please speak first," said Xiulote.


    The Intelligence Officer nodded, made a ¡¯wait a moment¡¯ gesture to Kuode, and then with a beckoning hand, invited the young man to a secluded corner for a private conversation.


    "Your Highness, in the autumn¡¯s western campaign, you will be in charge of the Northern Route Army. According to the latest intelligence, the King has issued you directives. For the western expedition in the north, you must focus on four key points . . . first is to establish a water route advantage and secure strongholds . . ."


    Xiulote nodded in agreement. This was exactly his plan. He had not yet reported to Aweit about the latest advancements in gunpowder, planning to wait until the fire arrows development was complete to demonstrate them during water combat simulations for the King, hoping to impress his teacher and friend once again.


    "Second, find a way to conquer the strongholds of the Tarasco Kingdom . . . especially those controlling the rivermouth of Cuitzeo Lake . . ."


    The young man furrowed his brows; this was indeed something he had not been aware of. His mind raced through various possibilities¡ªhooked ladders, reinforced catapults, and finally settling on a huge paper gunpowder pellet. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Third, be cautious of the northern Otomi people, try to maintain a ceasefire with them . . . carefully protect the food supply routes . . ."


    Xiulote grew silent for a moment. He carefully considered and slowly nodded, an image of a groundhog popping into his mind.


    "Fourth, from the western city-states of the Alliance, try to obtain some food support to reduce the consumption of provisions transported from the capital . . ."


    The young man shook his head; on this point, he had no solution. He could only go back to meet his grandfather and seek help through the older generation¡¯s network.


    "Additionally, the King suggests you recruit a group of Chichimeca Canine Descendants for the vanguard in the western campaign. Specific recruitment matters should be coordinated with the northern Commander-in-Chief, Osellor," continued Gillim.


    Upon hearing about recruiting the Canine Descendants, Xiulote fell into thought. The fearlessness of the Canine Descendants had left a deep impression on him. Although their unordered bravery could not directly confront a tight battle formation. these Canine Descendants seemed perfectly suited as grenadiers. They could charge to extremely close distances to throw still primitive, highly dangerous and explosive Clay Tribulus.


    After reflecting for a moment, Xiulote nodded seriously, showing a sincere smile.


    "Thanks to the King¡¯s directives and your advice. The Chief Divine blesses us, and the western campaign will surely be victorious!" said Xiulote.


    Gillim smiled in response, then bowed respectfully; the young man returned the gesture. Their mutual salutations harmonized the atmosphere exceedingly well.


    Then, Gillim bowed again and inquired respectfully.


    "May I know what matter Your Highness wishes to discuss?"


    Xiulote pondered for a short while and then began to speak slowly.


    "Originally, I primarily needed Kuode, but ultimately you would also be consulted . . . there¡¯s been a new development at the Divine Revelation Place. The production of the new Stirrup Crossbow is complete, and I¡¯m planning to call together another group of craftsmen and laborers, and to collect more timber for large-scale manufacturing . . . Meanwhile, the production of gunpowder on Heavenly Fire Island needs to continue with an increased workforce. The subsequent gunpowder weapons also require seasoned craftsmen . . . finally, there¡¯s the matter of new troops and their provisions . . ."


    In other words, the young man was seeking the Intelligence Officer and chief of the treasury, asking for craftsmen, manpower, money, and provisions.


    Gillim chuckled bitterly, for the first time showing a worried expression.


    "Your Highness, it¡¯s not that I intend to deceive you with my words, but where are there spare craftsmen now? And where is there enough wealth?"


    Saying this, the Intelligence Officer spread out his hands, counting off on his fingers to show the prince.


    "First and foremost, the production of longbows. Currently, the longbow workshop astonishingly employs seven hundred craftsmen and over two thousand laborers. The daily output of longbows is one hundred and fifty, and thousands of arrows, already reaching the limit of wood supply. To continuously provide timber, there are simultaneously thousands more lumberjacks and boatmen outside. Beyond the craftsmen and laborers, there are also two hundred samurai responsible for guarding and supervision. The daily consumption of provisions by these thousands is supplied by the Alliance, and the daily wear and tear of tools is also borne by the Alliance!"


    Hearing the number of longbows, Xiulote was somewhat satisfied. One hundred fifty a day meant that, in a month, there would be three to four thousand longbows, capable of arming one to two thousand warriors. By October, a full Longbow Corps could be formed.


    Based on the previous experience of the Longbow Guards, it was best for each Longbow Warrior to be equipped with more than two bows because continuous use caused string follow, necessitating some idle time to relax the strings, thereby avoiding damage to the bow body.


    "Next, Your Highness, you oversee the production of gunpowder. Heavenly Fire Island has completely taken control of the southern salt mines, where salt production has sharply declined, causing major and minor nobility to jump anxiously. Your Highness, members of the Royal Family have repeatedly sought an audience with the Venerable elders and the King, bitterly complaining, accusing you of brutality and greed!


    If it weren¡¯t for the Venerable elders being pleased with the stitched books you presented and the King¡¯s anticipation for the power of gunpowder, as well as the High Priest¡¯s overt and covert suppression, there would already be hordes of nobility with their private soldiers trying forcefully to reclaim the salt mines . . ."

 Chapter 278 - 149: Stirrup Crossbow, The King’s Directive, Manpower and Production_3

    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s face showed surprise. He had thought about these matters before and had heard a little about them from his grandfather. Each time, his grandfather had mentioned them dispassionately, but Xiulote had never imagined things were so intense behind the scenes.


    "Heavenly Fire Island now employs thousands of salt workers and laborers, excavating saltpeter, cutting timber, boiling natural nitrates, and collecting plant ash. There are also several hundred Samurai and patrolling Naval Forces on alert, with their daily food consumption being extremely shocking. Following that, papermaking and printing workshops are quickly expanded, employing hundreds of Craftsmen and thousands of laborers. Making paper armor, rattan shields, and rattan helmets requires a thousand people. Charcoal burning requires a great deal of timber and also employs a thousand people. Making and firing bricks take hundreds of people. The first shipment of copper ore from the south has arrived, and it takes hundreds of people to forge bronze spears and tools. Even the research into ¡¯glass¡¯ involves a hundred people..."


    As Xiulote listened to the detailed report of the Intelligence Officer, recounting it as if it were household knowledge, his expression became distant. Had he really embarked on so many scientific research projects without realizing it? Could the output of the Lake Capital City and even the Lake Region keep up... After a moment, a chill ran through the young man¡¯s heart. The Intelligence Officer knew the details of what he was responsible for even better than he did...


    Gillim observed Xiulote¡¯s expression, his tone becoming even more sincere.


    "Your Highness, these large-scale projects are consuming an extremely large amount of manpower and resources, already exceeding an entire Samurai legion! And next, you will also be training a complete Militia legion! Your Highness, the resources and manpower of the Alliance have all been exhausted..."


    Upon hearing the words of the Intelligence Officer, Xiulote¡¯s face sobered. He refocused, looking at Gillim with seriousness.


    "The Long Spears legion and the Longbow Militia are very important, Aweit has promised me! When can the six thousand miners be in place? The conscription of village Hunters must also begin immediately!"


    Gillim fell silent, a helpless sigh deep inside him. After a lengthy pause, the Intelligence Officer solemnly bowed.


    "Your Highness, the six thousand miner slots have all been allocated, and the Samurais overseeing the mines are ready. As soon as the laborers from the northern strongholds of the Otomi fill the ranks, we can immediately hand them over to you. The tax officers levying the new year¡¯s Tribute have also relayed a message, allowing village Elders to use qualified Hunters to replace parts of the autumn Tribute...


    But Your Highness, the Alliance¡¯s treasury has nearly been used up, with only assets from a few large confiscations remaining, and even the maintenance of the Capital City¡¯s Samurais still relies on Tribute from foreign states..." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote shook his head firmly, his eyes ablaze with conviction.


    "Gillim, I am raising a new army not for personal gain, but for the greater strategy of western conquest and even future reform! I give you five days. Five days hence, on the first day of March, I want to see six thousand miners assembled on the drill ground outside the city. Their training must start at that time!"


    Gillim silently looked at the youth, feeling the brightness and sincerity in his eyes, along with an indomitable determination. After a moment, the Intelligence Officer sighed deeply and knelt down heavily, bowing his head to receive his orders.


    Xiulote didn¡¯t look at Gillim. He raised his head, looking at the incessantly busy Craftsmen and laborers, then turned his gaze towards the ships transporting raw materials on Lake Texcoco, his thoughts far-reaching.


    With his involvement, the Empire was exploring new technology research, making improvements to old techniques, manufacturing new equipment on a large scale, maintaining a vast legion... Each of these consumed labor by the thousands and relied on continuous resource supplies.


    A Divine Revelator could push military technology rapidly forward within a few months. Yet, he couldn¡¯t change the most crucial foundation of the Empire¡¯s production_force in mere months. Now, the manpower and resources of the Alliance had indeed run out!


    At this moment, Xiulote truly understood the content he had studied in the past, the profound truths hidden within dry books.


    Production_force is the cornerstone of civilization. And the advancement of production_force requires the accumulation of time. After acquiring metals, this would be a yearly innovation, following the will of the great. And he, too, would start from this land of innovation to truly forge the foundation of civilization!

 Chapter 279 - 150 New Army Training, Spear Legion

    March came with the wind, and in the blink of an eye, more than half of it had passed. The weather remained clear and dry, ideal for travel.


    From all around, villagers came with their surplus agricultural products, heading to the great market of Tlatelolco in the North City to exchange what they needed. As they passed through the North Gate of the Lake Capital City and the village of Tepiiyaga, they would be surprised to find that the houses here had been temporarily requisitioned by the Alliance, and new legion campsites had been set up on the nearby drilling grounds.


    In the spacious drilling grounds, a regiment of exactly eight thousand long spears had already assembled, forming a dense spear formation. This included six thousand sturdy and obedient miners, a thousand repeatedly selected militia from the villages, and finally a thousand samurai who served as the core.


    In their right hands, they held bronze long spears measuring 2.5 meters and weighing about six or seven jin (pounds), while in their left hands, they held rattan shields with a diameter of one meter, each weighing up to ten jin. The rattan shields were firmly fixed to their left forearms and hung around their necks with straps. Leading the spear formations, the samurai were dressed in white paper armor and wearing tan rattan helmets. A closer look revealed that everyone had a white cloth tied around the left arm, which was quite conspicuous.


    At this moment, upon receiving the command to "stand at attention," thousands of spear militia stood solemnly, silent and motionless. Surrounding them were hundreds of patrolling guards who occasionally supervised and chided the militia.


    In front of the drilling grounds was a raised platform, atop which a sacred platform had been built. Xiulote sat cross-legged on the sacred platform. He was dressed in the elaborate and solemn robes of the High Priest, his head crowned with a heavy and dazzling feather crown, and around his neck shimmered an obsidian necklace inlaid with gold, making him appear like a divine envoy among mortals. The "Divine Envoy¡¯s" steely gaze swept over the spear formations, and the long spear militiamen lowered their heads submissively and fearfully, not daring to meet his eyes.


    Under the warm sun, the militia stood quietly, their expressions resolute. The great shields and long spears showcased the samurai¡¯s strength, while the armor and helmets symbolized elite equipment. The entire spear formation stood like a forest, exuding an eerily powerful presence.


    Seeing this, Xiulote nodded slightly in satisfaction.


    "The long spear militia has been assembling and training for two weeks; the miners¡¯ discipline is indeed commendable. However, they have only been practicing standing at attention for more than ten days, and they¡¯re now beginning to look the part. Let¡¯s see how they fare in marching and forming ranks later," he mused, his expression stern.


    "Both the long spears and great shields are in place, and the production of paper armor and rattan helmets is underway. I still need to urge Master Matelar to expedite the outfitting of the legion," he thought.


    As he pondered, Xiulote waved his hand, and a guard beside him went down to convey the order, signaling for the training officers to start the drill training. Dressed in such authoritative attire, it was natural that he wouldn¡¯t personally enter the field to train the troops. In fact, Xiulote knew very little about the specific training steps for the army; he simply made suggestions to the training officers based on snippets he had seen in the past.


    The two training officers stood in front of the platform. The main training officer was the battle-hardened Eagle Warrior Balda. He had experience with legion drills and was himself an outstanding samurai, well-versed in spear and shield.


    At Balda¡¯s side was Ezpan, the leader of the defected soldiers from Tarasco. Around thirty years old, with a weather-beaten face, he was the leader of a small group in the Tarasco long spear militia. After being captured by the Lerma River, he was spared from sacrifice and later defected to the Alliance on Xiulote¡¯s orders. He had experience in training the Tarasco long spear soldiers and was therefore appointed as an assistant training officer.


    Receiving the command from His Highness, Balda nodded and accepted the order. The "standing at attention" that had just taken place was His Highness¡¯s suggestion, which was said to improve discipline and morale. His Highness¡¯s influence was growing stronger, and though Balda was ambivalent about the suggestion, he executed it as if it were a command.


    Balda shook his head secretly, confident in his decade of experience as a commander in military drills. Then he shouted loudly to his left and right.


    "Sound the flute, march, beat the drums, form ranks!"


    The flute for marching sounded immediately, and the long spear legion began to fan out to both sides, dividing into regiments of a thousand men each, with each regiment consisting of five squads of two hundred men. The commanders of the thousand-man regiments were all veteran samurai. The captains of the two hundred-man squads were partly elected by the miners, but most were still samurai. Each squad additionally elected one person to serve as assistant priest, who would later undergo doctrinal training.


    Accompanied by the urgent flute sound, the squad leader Guzman was nervously sweating profusely. He shouted loudly while vigorously trying to control the pace of his teammates behind him to keep them from scattering. However, the pace of the march was uneven, and within a few steps, the queues collided with one another. The front captains¡¯ spears slanted and touched the rattan shields behind them, making continuous "bang-bang" sounds, and it looked like they were about to completely fall apart.


    At the critical moment, Guzman at the head of the queue shouted "halt," and the newly joined assistant priest also desperately stopped them, and the squad slowly came to a halt, standing to reorganize the formation. The gold miners¡¯ squad indeed had the best discipline, and dozens of core members hooted back and forth, realigning the chaotic formation for the militia. After a while, the small spear formation began to move again, with everyone jostling together as they moved out, leaving behind a few dropped rattan helmets on the ground.


    After walking a certain distance, surrounding long spear teams slowly spread out, and Guzman¡¯s squad also began to loosen. Facing a difficult collective maneuver at an intersection, he called out anxiously.


    S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 280 - 150 New Army Training, Spear Legion_2

    "Left turn, left turn, turn towards the arm with the white cloth!"


    Accompanied by the captain¡¯s continuous shouts, the spear formation hesitated momentarily and then slowly turned left. The militia in the formation reminded each other and finally completed the maneuver without mishap. Guzman caught his breath, using the white cloth to distinguish left from right, indeed saved much training effort. It wasn¡¯t until they reached the predetermined position that he remembered to continue shouting.


    "Gather, gather. The left-side shields protect the teammates on the left, the rear spears support those in front!..."


    Guzman did not even know what his own shouts meant. Everyone just acted based on a rough feeling, imitating the small formation performed by the Tarasco troops over ten days ago, shoulder to shoulder, forming a dense line, collecting into an irregular square. The spears in the front row were slanted, then the soldiers in the back row reversed their grip on the spears, raising them overhead and resting them on the shoulders of those in front, continuing towards the rear. The very front of the spear formation projected three or four layers of spears, looking somewhat like a hedgehog.


    After a while, the small spear formation was finally fully established. They stood quietly, connected front to back, shoulder to shoulder, feeling the rapid breathing around them. Guzman at the front then finally breathed a sigh of relief. He tried to look around, but could only see the rattan helmets of the people behind him, not the rattan shields. Then he looked to the front, but the salt workers were still clustered together in disarray, making him burst out laughing involuntarily.


    Xiulote on the sacred platform was not smiling. He wore a blank expression, staring at the spear formation below the platform, clutching his sleeves tightly.


    Although it had been two or three quarters of an hour, only a third of the troops had managed to successfully spread out and gather in the small formations. The mass of shield soldiers at the center were clumped together, unable to differentiate the front from the back or the left from the right. The team leaders and assistant priests accompanying the troops shouted hoarsely, trying to separate their own teams, but could not fully account for everyone. Some teams tried to stop, only to be more forcefully merged by other struggling groups.


    Many rattan helmets scattered across the ground, and occasionally a few rattan shields and spears dropped. Xiulote first counted the fallen spears, roughly a hundred. He shook his head helplessly. Then, he counted the fallen rattan shields, arriving at a rough number of twenty.


    Xiulote frowned. These rattan shields were tied to the arms; unless the militia intentionally removed them, they should not have fallen off. Realizing this, his expression turned icy as he spoke a few words to the guard, who then hurried away.


    Soon, Balda nodded fiercely, wearing a remorseless slight smile. The training officer once again issued an order.


    "Blow the horn, halt, disperse on the spot and wait!"


    The shrill sound of the horn rang out, and the supervising samurai on the outside took out their war clubs, leading the way, dispersing the assembled spear soldiers from the perimeter. As the groups gradually thinned out, the operation of the spear corps began to normalize. One third of the shield and spear soldiers formed into small arrays, spaced apart on the wings. The remaining militia stood in their places, trying to maintain a strict formation.


    When everyone was finally stationary, Balda roared out loudly.


    "On the battlefield, your shield is your life! The shield should be bound to your arms, tied around your neck, to fall with you. Those who drop their shield, forfeit their lives!"


    Having said this, the training officer waved mercilessly.


    "Bring those who lost their shields to the front of the formation!"


    On hearing the command, the supervising samurai once more stepped into the center of the scattered militia crowd, dragging out the militia who lacked shields, and pressed them at the very front of the spear formation.


    Guzman sensed trouble. He subtly stepped back, concealing the miner behind him whose rattan shield was also lost at some unknown time. Fortunately, their formation was tight, and the supervising samurai just briefly scanned before moving towards the center of the loose militia group.


    A quarter of an hour later, about a dozen militia who had lost their rattan shields were pressed at the front of the formation. Their legs trembled, and they started to grasp their imminent fate. Among them, a nimble salt worker repeatedly cried out for mercy, but was forcefully silenced by a samurai grabbing his neck from behind, leaving only a muffled cry.


    Balda swept across the entire scene with commanding authority, then swung his war club downward fiercely.


    "Execute them all!"


    Without hesitation, the supervising samurai drew their long daggers, swiftly slicing across the necks of the militia in the front. In just over a dozen breaths, there were more than a dozen patches of spreading crimson on the ground, and those lying down could no longer make any sound.


    Watching the spear militia standing silently, sober and serious, Balda nodded in satisfaction. He issued another order.


    "The formation disperses. Gather in groups of a thousand for dispersed column training!"


    Under the summons of the officers at all levels, the militia gathered again, slightly spread out and resumed their march. Everyone was silent, simply tightening the straps of their rattan shields and gripping their spears tightly. Guzman, leading the group, deliberately passed by the scattered rattan shields, leaving gaps for his comrades behind him. The miner bent down swiftly, snatching his shield back as if grabbing gold from the Gold River, then quickly and carefully tied it tight. Then, he leaned forward and quietly thanked Guzman.


    "Guzman brother, you saved me! I¡¯ll follow your lead from now on!"


    Guzman smiled and nodded in the front. Soon, they rejoined the thousand-strong camp and, under the command of the Warrior Camp Chief, resumed their formation.


    This time, their pace was much slower, but the time spent was actually shorter than before. The eight dispersed thousand-man battalions did not interfere with each other, each battalion formed five sharp spear formations with two hundred men. Then the militia reset their spears and stood still.


    From the divine platform, Xiulote observed carefully and gave a slight nod.


    Before him, forty small spear formations, roughly grouped into eight clusters, appeared. There were gaps of dozens of meters between the formations, which gradually closed as they moved until every five formations formed a rough straight line. This would be the defensive line on the battlefield. Although the line still had wave-like fluctuations, with some formations gradually becoming circular, at least they had some real combat capability.


    Xiulote contemplated in his heart.


    "This time, the thousand-man formation was much more effective. It seems that as the scale of the formation expands, the difficulty of forming up linearly increases. The large formations at the legion level clearly exceed the current capabilities of the militia."


    Then, Xiulote thought of the loose formation during the movement, and the time needed to reform, and he sighed lightly. In his vision, this new army¡¯s template was the spear formation soldiers of early Ancient Greece, capable of marching in formation, coordinating collective combat, and if necessary, launching short-range charges with several rows of long spears. Now, it seemed, this new army was far from the early formation soldiers, not to mention the more demanding Macedonian phalanx soldiers. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote carefully reminisced, the new army he organized resembled more the spear and shield soldiers commonly seen during the Three Kingdoms period in Huaxia.


    The spears, ranging from two and a half to three meters, could allow the front and back three rows to stab simultaneously. However, due to the strength required for stabbing, the frequency of attacks was actually not high, serving more to block. The one-meter-diameter rattan shield could provide effective protection, warding off arrows and war clubs, greatly enhancing the militia¡¯s survivability. Of course, the larger shield also further reduced their offensive capability.


    In sum, the current positioning of this new army was more inclined towards static defense, resisting the attacks of samurai, maintaining the stability of the line, and acting as a meat shield absorbing fire.


    "We can¡¯t expect the militia trained for a few months to have the same charge capability as the samurai. The real output will still rely on cross-shooting flat shooting crossbows and the elite samurai¡¯s flank charges."


    Xiulote gazed at the spear formation before him and swiftly pondered in his mind. In his view, the intensive training of the long spear militia had just begun. To truly bring out the power of the formation, it might take years of training and experience on the battlefield.


    In the coming month, he also planned to arrange competitions between the small teams, rewarding the winners with better food and punishing losers with chores. Then there were adaptability trainings against bow and arrow shootings, defensive trainings against samurai charges... His mind was full of memories.


    Xiulote thought for a long while, as did the long spear militia, standing solemnly. After a while, the young man summoned the guard, signaling to dismiss the spear formations and each camp to carry out their training separately.


    Balda nodded and barked the command.


    "Dismiss and divide the camps. Thousand-man camps train on shield defense and stabbing!"


    After speaking, the fierce Eagle Warrior turned his head and looked at Ezpan beside him, who hardly made a presence, and whispered with a light chuckle.


    "You people from Tarasco are really interesting, relying on such a spear formation, you can resist the invincible samurai?"


    Ezpan¡¯s face showed an embarrassed smile, with a gleam of agility in his eyes. The training adjutant bowed his head respectfully to Balda. Then, he tilted his head slightly, squinting towards the prince with a flash of boundless desire in his heart.

 Chapter 281 - 151 Training and Suggestions

    Time hurried on, and before anyone realized, another two weeks had passed. The training of the Spear Corps was intense and busy, seemingly designed to squeeze every ounce of energy from the Militia. The Militia had no choice and no time to think, fully immersing themselves in the monotonous training, striving to turn tactical movements into habitual muscle reflexes.


    Each day, at first light, Guzman was awakened by the first rays of dawn. Rising from his straw mat, his first task was to wake up his squad members and urge them to quickly get dressed. After a simple breakfast, the Militia left their rudimentary camp to head to the nightmarish training field nearby.


    In the morning sun, there was first a quarter-hour of standing in silence, cultivating some sort of spirit. This was Guzman¡¯s most relaxed time when he could rest for a while leaning on his spear. Then came the lengthy marches and formations, accompanied by strict supervision and harsh punishment. Guzman had to gather all his concentration, carrying a fear of severe punishment, and strive for meticulousness. He shouted himself hoarse, leading his squad, fearing a major mistake. As for minor errors, they were too numerous to count.


    Next were the squad¡¯s cooperation drills. Each camp¡¯s five squads would form up and then draw closer together to form a reliable battle line. Initially, the Warrior Camp Chief scolded them, saying their movements were "as slow as turkeys", later he scolded them, saying their formation was "as scattered as monkeys", and after that, he said little, only stating, "If you were samurais, you could do better!" Guzman also held his breath, hoping to be as respected as a samurai.


    After squad practice came the additional lunch. Under the gently waning sun, Guzman and his teammates happily ate cornbread and black bean paste. This midday meal was a treatment he had never experienced when he worked as a miner, many civilian samurais also only had two meals a day.


    After a short rest, came the individual martial arts training, the part of the samurai life Guzman yearned for. He learned to use the Rattan Shield effectively for blocking, and mastered stabbing with the spear at limited angles. Although each time he was beaten mercilessly by the training samurai, he could distinctly feel his progress. And when several Spear Corps members teamed up, their spears converged, and even veteran samurais had to retreat, giving him a strong sense of confidence.


    Finally, there were the inter-squad competitive matches. Two squads would press against each other with shields to see whose formation would disperse first. The Militia supported each other back-to-back, coordinating to exert force together. Guzman had to continually shout, "Hold steady, push!" to maintain the squad¡¯s rhythm of exertion, eventually winning after a long competition.


    The competitive matches varied, including group runs to see which team¡¯s everyone would reach the finish line first. Such races required paying attention to the weakest teammate, bringing them along. Among the five squads, the salt workers showed the strongest team spirit and often had the advantage in these competitions.


    There were also stabbing action contests, stabbing wooden balls on straw mannequin heads. This was pure martial arts, requiring repetitive practice with no shortcuts. The stoneworkers usually had better physical conditions, were more agile, and quicker to learn martial arts.


    The most tormenting was enduring the competition with arrows, where two squads stood in the field simultaneously, taking shots from two teams of bow-wielding samurais. The arrowheads had been removed, and the wooden shafts clattered against the rattan shields and helmets, like the heaviest rains of the rainy season.


    Occasionally, a shaft would penetrate the shield¡¯s gaps, striking Guzman on his body and neck. Although buffered by paper armor, it still hurt sharply. The pain was not a major issue, but this one-sided attack was unsettling and severely tested the Militia¡¯s patience and discipline. In these patience-testing challenges, the gold miners usually had the upper hand. Guzman¡¯s squad often emerged victorious.


    The toughest matches were against the samurai squads. Both sides exchanged their spears for long sticks, with the Militia forming tight spear formations and samurais using loose formations. The samurais, like pack wolves, would spread out to surround the spear formation, continuously howling to intimidate, also repeatedly luring the Militia at the edges.


    Once a gap showed in the formation, no longer converging the long sticks, the samurais would quickly charge, swinging their long sticks, forcefully knocking down opponents at the weak spots. Subsequently, hurried adjustments in the spear formation often resulted in more breakthroughs, the pack wolves would keep biting at the hedgehog until the gaps were large enough to break through completely and overwhelm the spear formation.


    Every confrontation with the samurais ended in annihilation for the Militia, but the spear formation was holding for increasingly longer durations, and the samurais¡¯ assessed casualties also gradually increased.


    Through these confrontations, Guzman¡¯s understanding became clearer. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If we were to fight the samurais one-on-one, a few weeks of our training against a few years of theirs would leave us utterly defenseless. Only by relying on our comrades¡¯ cooperation can the spear simultaneously attack, pose a threat to the samurais, and the shields can cover each other, lasting longer."


    All these competitive matches were designed by His Majesty, also involving divine envoy¡¯s rewards and punishments. The winning teams could enjoy an additional meal at dinner, usually cornbread, avocados, and a few cocoa beans. The losing teams had to clean the training field and latrines, in the mockery of others, carrying what¡¯s called ¡¯saltpeter¡¯ materials to the lakeside to be loaded onto boats.


    To earn the rewards and not be the butt of jokes from other teams, Guzman tried everything. Following the samurais¡¯ advice, he divided the two hundred miners into twenty groups, assigning an old buddy to each. Whenever there was time at night, he met with the group leaders to discuss. Although they were all inexperienced, discussing together always brought some ideas, and the relationships got even closer as a result.

 Chapter 282 - 151 Training and Suggestions_2

    At the abundant dinner, the Assistant Priest from the squad would take his place. Originally one of the miners, he had been promoted to "Assistant Priest." Daily training with the others, he had no time to study the revelations of the divine. Therefore, when he spoke, it was but two newly learned prayers.


    "Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli, most supreme and omnipotent! Those who believe in the divine shall be saved and ascend to the Divine Kingdom!"


    "Praise to the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! He grants us food, and we shall fight for Him!"


    Guzman scratched his head and, as required, repeated the words along with his comrades. They had to recite them three times before they could officially start their dinner. At this moment, the camp was filled with continuous prayers and praises, floating towards the distant Divine Kingdom. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As for the Divine Kingdom, Guzman did believe in it; since childhood, he had heard of that eternally peaceful and wonderful realm. Yet, he was somewhat puzzled and confused about the Chief Divine, who used to be the War God. As a miner, he previously worshipped mainly the Earth Mother Goddess Tlaltecuhtli or the Fire God Huitzilopochtli. Now, with daily prayers, new religious notions were remolded in his mind, slowly blending all deities into a supreme figure rising to the highest heavens.


    After dinner, the militia could finally retire to rest. Guzman hurried forward, somewhat impatiently, the fatigue of the day making his whole body ache. Only when lying on the straw bedding did he feel that his body truly belonged to himself.


    The sunset had passed and the sky was dim. Guzman crossed the spacious camp, looking distantly towards the central grand tent, not spotting the highly revered figure of the Lord. Unexpectedly, he saw the Tarasco Adjutant, who was in charge of training, speaking quietly with a guard outside the tent. Soon, the door of the tent opened and the Adjutant stealthily entered.


    Guzman paused, then continued forward. The fatigue from training washed over him like a tide, his mind filled with nothing but a desire for sleep.


    At this moment, Ezpan was far from sleepy. He walked cautiously into the Lord¡¯s grand tent, keeping his head low, stealing glances with his peripheral vision at the tent¡¯s arrangement, hoping to discern some of the Lord¡¯s preferences.


    Unexpectedly, the grand tent was exceptionally austere. The walls bore nothing, the floor was devoid of cotton mats, and there were no gold or silver decorations. On a wooden rack, there was just a Greatbow, a set of War Club and shield, a set of Leather Armor, a wooden board map, a few new-style paper books. In the corner was a straw bed and two wooden basins. Near the vent, there was a fire basin with a small fire lit, no expensive candles... This place was more rudely adorned than any Tarasco noble¡¯s dwelling.


    In the center of the grand tent, there was a newly made wooden table. The Lord, dressed in Priest robes, sat cross-legged behind the table, holding a scroll and looking at him with a tranquil expression. Behind the Lord was the Head Warrior, his face etched with years of hardship, his gaze piercing as if waiting for prey.


    Ezpan¡¯s heart chilled. He dared not look around any further, nor did he dare to approach too closely. He knelt at the tent entrance, prostrating before the Lord.


    "Respected Lord, Ezpan of the Mexica Alliance greets you, wishing you rebirth like the sun!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was calm. He observed the kneeling training Adjutant, then slightly smiled. The other had specifically worn a Mexica Samurai¡¯s War Clothes, donned a Leather Hat painted with a Hummingbird, and hung a string of the latest Sun Amulets around his neck, showing a level of meticulousness and caution.


    The authoritative gaze lingered on Ezpan for a long while until he sweat profusely; Xiulote then calmly inquired,


    "Ezpan, what brings you to me? What do you have to report?"


    Ezpan clenched his teeth. He thought of the strength of the Mexica people, the prosperity of the Lake Capital City, and also remembered the Lord¡¯s unconventional approach to people. At last, he spoke out loud.


    "Respected Lord, concerning the training of the Spear unit, I have some new suggestions!"


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze hardened. He looked at the weathered face of the training Adjutant and asked sternly,


    "If you have suggestions, why not tell the training Chief? Why come to find me alone?"


    Upon hearing the Lord¡¯s implied reprimand, Ezpan fell prostrated to the ground with a thud. He wanted to speak in his defense, yet felt it improper, so he just knocked his forehead hard against the ground.


    Xiulote listened to the dull thuds of prostration until counting to twenty. Then he commanded again,


    "Enough, Ezpan, speak."


    Ezpan raised his head again, and his forehead was now swollen. The Lord was about to leave the training campsite, and this would be his last chance. With this thought, he forcefully spoke,


    "Lord, General Balda excels in the Samurai¡¯s training. However, the Spear formation differs from the Samurai formation, focusing less on individual Martial Arts and more on teamwork! All training should revolve around cooperation!"


    Xiulote¡¯s face remained expressionless, waiting. Under his directive, Balda had already altered many training plans, and now the training specifically focussed on cooperation. Ezpan¡¯s words brought nothing new.


    Ezpan paused for a moment, not waiting for a response from the Lord; then he bit his teeth and spoke out loud again,


    "Compared to the Samurai formation, the Spear formation is not necessarily stronger. Its advantage lies in being quicker to train as an army, with a wide source of soldiers. With ordinary militia and miners, strictly trained for several months, they could roughly withstand a Samurai¡¯s charge. Yet any qualified Samurai¡¯s training spans over five years."


    Hearing this, Xiulote began to show some interest. As a low-ranking officer, Ezpan clearly had abundant experience and expertise. The Lord then gestured with a wave of his hand.

 Chapter 283 - 151 Training and Suggestions_3

    ```


    "Ezpan, come closer and explain in detail," he said.


    Ezpan stood up as the Head Warrior had already arrived at a brisk pace, checking him over once again. Then Ezpan carefully approached, kneeling before His Highness¡¯s table.


    "There are many key points in training the Spear Formation, and the most important is to focus on teamwork. Tarasco¡¯s spear infantry are divided into squads based on different mines and places of birth, with each squad consisting of roughly two hundred relatives or companions. To ensure obedience to the squad leader and to build trust among themselves, we elect a leader. Then, before the gods, we perform a blood oath, swearing to be brothers!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression shifted. He heard the concept of the blood oath again. This ceremony, witnessed by the gods, similar to Huaxia¡¯s blood oaths and akin to beheading chickens and drinking yellow wine, participants might even offer a piece of their own flesh as a sacrifice. During eras of devout tribal worship, the influence of such ceremonies on people¡¯s hearts was far greater than in economically advanced commercial societies. Plus, this ritual also enhanced the presence of the Chief Divine.


    With this in mind, Xiulote nodded slightly and looked at Ezpan again.


    Ezpan caught a glimpse of the prince¡¯s approval out of the corner of his eye, and his spirit was immediately lifted. His voice grew more confident.


    "The cooperation of the team is reflected in every individual¡¯s movement. Each Spear Formation soldier must learn to protect his comrade with his shield, pushing forward collectively. Then, in concert with their companions in front and behind, they raise their Long Spears over the shields to thrust in a fixed area. Multiple Long Spears working together make it impossible for the enemy to avoid."


    "The second key point is the cooperation within the phalanx. The weakness of a phalanx lies in its flanks and rear, so it is critical for phalanxes to cover each other and protect each other¡¯s weak points. In my view, the most effective formation is to arrange three phalanxes in a triangular interlocking form. When one phalanx is under attack, the other two can advance from the wings to protect the vulnerable flanks, facing the enemy with their strongest front."


    Xiulote thought for a few seconds, then drew a "Æ·" character on the ground before showing it to Ezpan. The training adjutant nodded repeatedly, praising His Highness¡¯s wisdom.


    "The third key point is the ability to change formation. In addition to lining up, a phalanx must master the ability to adjust swiftly on the battlefield, always facing the enemy head-on. If surrounded by superior enemy forces, it must form a circular defense. Actually, the equipment of the Long Spear Militia is not heavy, and the Spear Formation can also be used for assault. But during an assault, the phalanx must transform into columns, arranging into clusters of rows for continuous charge." S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote thought about it. The concept of columnar assault seemed very familiar to him; it reminded him of the cohorts of Ancient Rome¡¯s legions and also of Li Jing¡¯s military reforms in the early Tang Dynasty. He nodded slowly in understanding.


    Ezpan grew somewhat excited. He continued to speak, sharing the thoughts he had harbored for years.


    "The fourth key point is discipline. The power of the phalanx lies in the collective; once dispersed, it becomes easy prey for the Samurai. Thus, without orders, phalanx infantry must never engage in pursuit. In war, those who flee first and cause a rout must be executed publicly to deter others. In order to form up quickly during battle, squads must stay together at all times, camp in the open together, and not scatter to live in barracks..."


    Xiulote pondered and then smiled slightly. Collective living... During this period, the Swiss mountaineers¡¯ phalanxes also had similar rules for establishing closer ties and preventing surprise enemy attacks. He finally nodded in approval.


    "Very good! Ezpan, do you have any other ideas?"


    Ezpan hesitated, weighing the prince¡¯s historical reputation, but then boldly proposed.


    "Respected Your Highness, actually, Tarasco¡¯s Two-Handed Pike infantry would be much stronger. Even though they were vulnerable to Longbow fire last time because they were unprepared, as long as we additionally arrange two squads of shield bearers among the Two-Handed Pike infantry, they can withstand arrows while exploiting the offensive advantage of two-handed weapons."


    Xiulote paused for a moment. This was similar to the Song Dynasty army¡¯s composition, with the Two-Handed Pikes as the main force, supported by shield bearers, along with a large number of crossbowmen.


    After some thought, he shook his head. For a newly established Militia, shields were more critical. Not only were they defensive weapons and a guarantee of survival, but they were also a source of reliance for the new soldiers. The sense of security provided by the shields could effectively maintain the morale of the Militia. And only an army that had experienced battle and become true strong soldiers could make full use of the power of the Two-Handed Pike.


    Moments later, Xiulote drifted back from his thoughts. His gaze was as solid as a mountain, closely fixed on the kneeling training adjutant¡¯s anxious expression.


    "So, Ezpan, having put forward so many concrete suggestions, what do you wish to gain?"


    ```

 Chapter 284 - 152 Loyalty and Appointment

    Night had fallen. Darkness descended from the ventilated apex, enveloping the corners of the great tent. A cool breeze stirred, the campfire dimly flickering, casting profound silhouettes across His Highness¡¯s face, like the indistinct black hawks on high mountains.


    With His Highness¡¯s inquiry, silence reigned in the great hall momentarily. Ezpan¡¯s mind wavered. He looked up to speak but inexplicably found himself voiceless. Stealing glances at His Highness¡¯s expression, it seemed as sculpted, inscrutable with neither joy nor sorrow, impossible to fathom. Glancing at the Head Warrior beside, Bertade appeared calm, ancient like a centuries-old tree, standing guard by His Highness¡¯s side.


    Ezpan opened his mouth again, only managing to utter incoherent sounds, mixed with Tarasco dialect. Panic-stricken, he closed his mouth and once again prostrated himself on the ground. The impact and pain of his head hitting the ground brought clarity and helped him organize his words, recalling the Mexica¡¯s pronunciation.


    After bowing ten times, he finally gathered enough courage, raised his head, and shouted His Highness, striving for his destiny.


    "Your Highness, I want to become the new Legion Commander! I can lead the new army well!"


    Xiulote eyed the kneeling Tarasco in front of him. His gaze was flat, his expression unchanging. Finally, after Ezpan¡¯s courage had drained, and he lay powerlessly on the ground, His Highness spoke words like a Divine Revelation.


    "Ezpan, how shall I trust you?"


    Ezpan¡¯s spirit lifted as if illuminated by light. He clutched the Sun Amulet at his chest fiercely and looked up eagerly.


    "Your Highness, though I am a Tarasco, I lost my parents at a young age. Since the age of fourteen, I have worked in Qinchongcan¡¯s mines, from open-air copper mining to the pitch-black underground. I labored from sunrise to sunset without a meal to fill my stomach, thus I worked for eight years. Afterwards, I was drafted as a Spear Militia, serving with the Kingdom¡¯s grand army in the campaigns against the Tekos. With no proper cotton armor, only a bronze spear in hand. I was always at the forefront in every charge, fighting another eight years."


    As he spoke, Ezpan¡¯s voice gradually grew, carrying a note of fervor and authenticity.


    "I served the Tarasco Kingdom without any special treatment! The Spear Militia, lacking armor and shields, always led the most challenging battles, incurring heavy casualties every time. Nearly all my old mine brothers are dead, receiving no consolation. Many times, I survived merely by luck!"


    As if to prove something, Ezpan violently stripped off his Mexica war clothes, revealing a torso covered in scars. There was one large wound, splitting from his shoulder down to his lower abdomen.


    "Your Highness, you know, in the last battle, we were even sent across the river as stepping stones for the samurai, as fodder for the grand army...I have no fondness left for the Tarasco Kingdom!" Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Observing Ezpan¡¯s scars, Xiulote was slightly moved, remaining silent.


    Behind him, Bertade¡¯s gaze was grave. He took a step forward, extending his robust hand, tracing the large diagonal scar across Ezpan¡¯s chest. He measured the width and continuity of the wound, then asked seriously.


    "Was this a single strike? What weapon was this? So sturdy and sharp that it could make such a long, continuous wound?"


    Ezpan¡¯s emotions were abruptly interrupted. He stared at the Head Warrior in astonishment, assuring that the question was not a jest, then he struggled to recall.


    "We were tasked with attacking a large Tekos tribe. They had thousands of people, their camp set in the mountains, and were tough to fight. Most had only clubs or stone spears, a few had Obsidian Clubs, only the tribal leader had a very sharp black knife. It appeared black, but near the edge, it was actually white..."


    "The wound on my chest was from when I attacked the strongest chieftain. His first strike broke my spear, then his second cut through my cotton clothes...but he too was killed by brothers with random spears..."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression grew serious, his voice slightly fluctuating as he inquired promptly.


    "Where is this Tekos tribe you speak of? Is it in Colima? Do you have that black knife?"


    Ezpan strained his memory, his face showing a bitter smile.


    "Your Highness, I don¡¯t know where Colima is. We landed at Lake Chapala, then were led continuously southwest for more than ten days. The area was mountainous, sparsely populated, and difficult to navigate. The Tekos tribes were nestled in the mountains, those on the outskirts submitted to the Tarasco Kingdom, while the interior tribes refused tribute and often raided...However, I remember the location of that tribe; if we could reach there again, it should be possible to find it."


    For the first time, Ezpan noticed fluctuations in His Highness¡¯s expression. He felt a slight joy and continued.


    "As for that black knife, it was of course taken by Tarasco¡¯s nobility! After being wounded, I immediately fell bleeding to the ground and could no longer move. My brothers bandaged me and even caught a tribal witch doctor to treat me. They tried the black knife, said it was only slightly sharper than a bronze spear...It wasn¡¯t hidden in time and was collected, so it was just considered gone..."


    "Later, the nobility even had the militia specifically search the area. The entire tribe had only this one black knife. The tribe¡¯s witch doctor said it was a Divine Artifact forged with the power of spirits by the former Great Shaman, serving as a symbol of tribal heritage..."


    Xiuolote¡¯s mind surged, sinking into deep thought.

 Chapter 285 - 152 Loyalty and Appointment_2

    According to Ezpan¡¯s description, that place must be the Colima region, with its continuous mountain ranges and complex terrain, as well as the fickle Tekos Tribe. The black blade should be an oxidized iron sword; considering the tribe¡¯s metallurgy level, an iron sword indeed wouldn¡¯t be much sharper than bronze weapons. And given the local mining capabilities, they could only pick up scattered pieces of iron ore from the surface, hence forging just a single weapon.


    The iron mines of Colima are deeply buried beneath the ground, with shallow deposits dozens of meters down, and even deeper ones at hundreds of meters. For the Alliance, these sporadic pieces of iron ore are merely a drop in the bucket. However, their existence is significant, as they help pinpoint the locations of shallow iron deposits, so that the Alliance can then invest significant manpower and resources to excavate...


    Thinking about this, Xiulote once again turned his gaze to Ezpan, his eyes now holding a trace of warmth. He smiled slightly and nodded his head.


    "Ezpan, may the Chief Divine bless you, for you have returned alive from countless battles and taken refuge in the great Alliance¡¯s embrace, and also have been granted an audience with me. Set aside the matter of the black blade for now, and continue to prove your loyalty!"


    Seeing the prince¡¯s smile, Ezpan breathed a sigh of relief. Although he did not know where he had managed to please His Highness, the future seemed much brighter all of a sudden. He replied with invigorated enthusiasm.


    "Respected Your Highness, the grand Alliance is far stronger than the decayed Kingdom. The Lake Capital City is unparalleled and is like a Divine Kingdom on earth that I have never seen in my life. The warriors of the Alliance number in the hundreds of thousands, and no one in the world can stand in their way...


    And Your Highness, blessed with Divine Revelation and wise decisiveness, is far more simple and kind than the greedy and cruel Tarasco nobility. You value ability over birth in your appointments. Not only can you promote a craftsman to military nobility, but you can also elevate commoners to Camp Commander and Legion Commander; you are the common people¡¯s only hope... By the highest Chief Divine as my witness, I am willing to offer my loyalty and life to follow you forever!"


    At this point, Ezpan once again prostrated on the ground, bowing deeply. Then, with a look of longing toward His Highness, his heart was filled with anticipation.


    Xiulote¡¯s expression had already returned to calm. He gazed indifferently at the Tarasco man before him, also waiting for something.


    On seeing His Highness¡¯s unmoved expression, a chill went through Ezpan¡¯s heart. As a Tarasco defector, proving his loyalty and earning the trust of the king was incredibly difficult!


    Ezpan gritted his teeth. He remembered the rumors that had recently spread from the Priesthood, remembered the rituals of the northern samurais pledging loyalty to the Alliance... He suddenly bowed his head deeply and saluted the Head Warrior.


    "Sir, please lend me a dagger. Under the Chief Divine¡¯s witness, let me offer my flesh and blood to prove my loyalty!" S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bertade was slightly taken aback, and he looked toward Xiulote. The young priest pondered for a moment and then nodded his head. The Head Warrior then took out the War Club, held it warily in his hand, and handed his obsidian Short Dagger to Ezpan.


    Ezpan took the Short Dagger and knelt on the ground. He extended his non-dominant left hand, poked out his little finger, curled up his other four fingers, and then pressed them to the ground. His right hand clutched the sharp dagger, first positioning it half way up the finger as though marking it, then with gritted teeth, he moved it toward the weaker joint at the base of the finger, and forcefully cut down.


    The face of the Tarasco training Adjutant suddenly twisted. As he exerted a slow and resolute force, fine beads of sweat rapidly emerged on his forehead, then gathered into small streams on his face and poured down. When the flesh finally separated, he let out a low guttural roar, his already pained face turning pale.


    Xiulote nodded in approval of Ezpan¡¯s determination and perseverance, his regard for him rising a few notches in his heart. Then, the young priest stood up and moved the brazier to the center of the tent, softly chanting the blessings of the Chief Divine.


    "Praise Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! I pray to the highest Him, offering the flesh of the Devotee and the soul of the convert... This is the loyalty under the Chief Divine¡¯s watchful eye!"


    Listening to His Highness¡¯s prayer, Ezpan dropped the bloodied dagger, struggled forward a few steps, and with his intact right hand, he clutched the finger that was about to be offered. He gave it a final fond look before abruptly throwing it into the fire. Quickly, a smell of burning flesh and fat arose and dispersed in the wind. The faint blue smoke rose and took away a part of his body, and truly, a part of his soul, ascending into the distant Divine Kingdom.


    Seeing Ezpan¡¯s performance, Xiulote showed an approving smile and said warmly.


    "Ezpan, from now on, under the highest Chief Divine¡¯s witness, you have sworn an oath to Him, you receive a sacred duty to glorify the Chief Divine¡¯s majesty!... Come, join me in chanting His sacred name, praise the highest Huitzilopochtli!"


    Ezpan obediently knelt again, tilting his head upward slightly, looking at the burning "Sacred Fire." He was somewhat bewildered but also expectant, quietly murmuring with the satisfaction of finally being acknowledged.


    "Highest Huitzilopochtli, I offer all my loyalty, to fight for the Alliance!"


    "Highest Huitzilopochtli, I offer all my loyalty, to fight for Your Highness!"


    "Highest Huitzilopochtli, I offer all my loyalty to Your Highness, to fight for Your Highness!"


    Listening to Ezpan¡¯s deliberately varied prayers, Xiulote paused for a moment, then smiled with satisfaction. He waved over the Head Warrior.


    "Dress his wounds, use the best herbs."


    Bertade nodded calmly, took out boiled cotton cloth and finely prepared herbs from his bosom. He then bent down, took Ezpan¡¯s left arm, and helped the Tarasco Adjutant, who had collapsed on the ground, to stop the bleeding before carefully bandaging him. On the ground, the pool of blood drops formed a mirror, reflecting Ezpan¡¯s oddly smiling face.

 Chapter 286 - 152 Loyalty and Appointment_3

    A quarter later, Ezpan knelt down again, his expression returning to normal from the trance of the baptism. Xiulote looked at him, his smile gently deciding his fate.


    "Ezpan, you have shown your ability and loyalty, but it is not enough. The position of Legion Commander for the new army has already been determined in advance, and with your qualifications, it is not possible for you to take on that role. However, as long as you do what you should do, and continue to prove your devotion to the gods, there will be a new starting point! Train the Spear Legion well, and once the legion is formally established, I promise you the position of Vice Legion Commander!"


    Listening to His Highness¡¯s decision, Ezpan¡¯s expression first darkened, then lit up with surprise, shining bright with hope. He mumbled "uh-huh" a couple of times, at a loss for words, then knelt down forcefully, banging his head on the ground with loud thuds.


    This time, Xiulote didn¡¯t count the time to wait. He laughed heartily, continuing to promise a bright future, motivating the loyal general.


    "Ezpan, I have great hopes for you. I don¡¯t mind that you were born to foreign miners, but the Alliance will care, as will the other Samurai and Militia. Therefore, you need to doubly prove your abilities and your loyalty!


    You were once Tarasco, now you are Mexica, you must make a showing in the Alliance¡¯s Western Campaign! And after the Alliance conquers Tarasco, I will establish a new Tarasco Legion, where your true and grand future lies!"


    Upon hearing His Highness¡¯s glowing promise and thinking of the hardships of his life, Ezpan suddenly choked up. The clear path of hope lay before him, yet he couldn¡¯t help but shed tears. He kowtowed mightily, clutching the wound where his finger had been cut off, once again using pain to wake himself. After a long while, he managed to speak with a hoarse voice.


    "I am willing to die for Your Highness!"


    Seeing the genuine emotions in Ezpan, Xiulote suddenly became contemplative.


    "If I had been born in a poor commoner¡¯s family, when would I have struggled onto the world stage?"


    After pondering for a while, the young man smiled wryly at himself. He looked at Ezpan with a warm gaze and waved his hand.


    "Go now, Ezpan, take this bottle of healing ointment with you. I will be leaving camp tomorrow, so start the training work. Soon, the new Legion Commander will arrive, taking over from the chief training officer, Balda."


    Ezpan respectfully knelt on the ground, retreated on his knees to the door, then he finally got up, carefully exited the tent, and disappeared into the vast night.


    Xiulote watched the tent flap close again, the darkness isolated in the distant world. He pondered for a long time, then shook his head.


    "Balda was born in a noble family, a Samurai of the noble eagle. He is ultimately not suitable to lead a legion of commoners... Bertade, would you be willing to take on the position of Legion Commander for the new army? It may be somewhat beneath you, but this new legion will continue to expand, and during the Northern Campaign, I will appoint you as Marshal." S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote looked at the Head Warrior, his most trusted subordinate for both loyalty and ability. In fact, deep down, he even regarded Bertade as a kind of mentor.


    Bertade¡¯s expression was solemn. Having followed Xiulote for a long time, he could discern the young prince¡¯s intentions and the importance His Highness placed on the new army. After a moment of thought, the Head Warrior shook his head.


    "Your Highness, I am willing to stay by your side forever. I can assume the role of Legion Commander for the new army for a short period, but it is not appropriate for me to do so in the long term. As your Guard Commander, I also should not take up the mantle of Marshal, having too much military power."


    Xiulote lowered his eyes, thinking for a moment, then nodded slightly. Then, he spoke affectionately with a smile.


    "Bertade, you have followed me for many years, and we understand each other¡¯s hearts, so you needn¡¯t worry too much. I lack experience in commanding a large army, and will surely rely on you and teacher Olosh during this northern campaign. You are my best choice for Marshal in my heart!"


    Moved by the young man¡¯s heartfelt words, Bertade was visibly touched. He bowed deeply and, after a moment of contemplation, spoke slowly.


    "Your Highness, as a Samurai born of commoners, it is difficult for me to command the respect of noble officers, and I am not qualified to take on the role of Marshal. In fact, for the position of Marshal, there is a most suitable and esteemed person."


    Xiulote was taken aback. He looked at Bertade¡¯s weathered face and asked in a deep voice.


    "Who is it?"


    "Your father, Legion Commander Xiuxoke." Bertade suggested respectfully with his head bowed.


    At these words, Xiulote abruptly stood up, turned and looked northward. The young man¡¯s thoughts drifted far away, and as memories flickered by, nostalgia surged like a tide.


    After standing quietly for a while, he murmured to himself.


    "My father as my aide during my western campaign?... Indeed... that is not a bad idea."


    The great tent quieted down, fresh air flowed in from the top. The campfire flickered briefly, then blazed brightly again, releasing even more light and warmth.

 Chapter 287 - 153 Personnel Appointment

    Xiulote stood silently, his thoughts drifting with the wind, surging into the vast world of the night.


    Bertade silently moved forward, adding some high-quality charcoal to the campfire. This was a product recently delivered from the charcoal yard, produced from a modern kiln. Soon, the charcoal burned intensely, producing neither smoke nor crackling sparks.


    A warm breeze then swept toward Xiulote, gently caressing his robustly growing figure, his handsome and refined face, and his bright and clear eyes. Sparkles flickered in the young man¡¯s eyes; he watched the charred remnants of the charcoal fall naturally like the first snow, like the searing flames of life leaving indelible marks in the era.


    After a moment, Xiulote smiled contentedly and began to speak slowly.


    "Bertade, for this expedition, my father is indeed suited to be the commander-in-chief. However, you must help me command the new troops and the Personal Guard. The new troops include the Spear Legion that is under training, and the Longbow Militia who will pledge their loyalty tomorrow. The Longbow Guards have reached a thousand people and can be called the Longbow Camp, mostly followers. This is my direct force from the common people and militia warriors, and your prestige is enough to lead them; I only wish to entrust them to you!"


    Bertade pondered for a moment, then respectfully knelt down and bowed. The prince¡¯s followers had already been divided into three groups: part joined the new troops, serving as the backbone of the legion officers. Part served as personal escorts, attending the prince. Most practiced with the longbow, becoming Longbow Warriors, and the Longbow Camp thus became the prince¡¯s personal guard.


    "Willing to die for you! Under the witness of the predecessor monarch¡¯s spirit, may the reborn sun rise into the sky and reign over the world of the Mexica!"


    Bertade solemnly vowed in a low voice, his usually calm face revealing a deep-seated fervor. Having followed Xiulote for two years, the prince had become the repository of his spirit and ideals. Regardless of whether the young man was the reincarnation of Montezuma I, he would continue to protect him, waiting for the hopeful tomorrow.


    Xiulote laughed heartily. He strode forward, ruffled Bertade¡¯s hair, then powerfully lifted the loyal Head Warrior. Then, the two sat opposite each other, cross-legged, discussing personnel appointments.


    "Bertade, you need to temporarily command the army. Who in the Personal Guard is suitable to assist you?"


    Thinking back to the last expedition, Xiulote asked earnestly.


    The Head Warrior¡¯s mind raced, as many faces flashed through his mind, finally settling on a simple, honest smile.


    "Prince, Ters is simple-minded and has undergone the test of loyalty. He has known you for a long time and has been trained in the followers¡¯ unit for several months, suitable as an adjutant in the personal escort. When I command the army, he can be responsible for your safety," he said.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze flickered. He remembered the initially captured face, that simple joyous look of the Holy City warrior. Once again, profound, unforgettable memories surged, bringing with them his once pure and kind self, stirring complex emotions within. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The young man slowly nodded, once again burying the past deep within his heart.


    "Very well! Let Ters meet with me in a couple of days to see if there have been any changes."


    Bertade bowed to take his orders. Then, after a moment¡¯s thought, he asked,


    "Prince, the Spear Legion is a complete Xiquipilli of eight thousand men. You promised the position of Vice Legion Commander to Ezpan, being a surrendered general... Who do you have in mind for the Legion Commander?"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote thoughtfully considered.


    "The Spear Legion is a legion of commoners, also incorporating a lot of new tactics. There are only two people who are experienced enough to command the legion and capable of handling this position, having enough prestige to keep the officers in check: either Monkey Kuluka or Poet Balamo."


    Bertade nodded subtly, listening to the prince¡¯s words and assessing the standing of each commander in the prince¡¯s heart.


    "Both are of common origin and can also win the support of the warriors and militia. As for whom to choose..."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment. He remembered the loyalty of the two men; the Poet had composed poems glorifying him but had not proven his convictions. Meanwhile, Monkey had often been busy following him on adventures, purchasing copper mines, and had also captured a golden eagle for him...


    With that in mind, Xiulote made a decision.


    "Send an envoy to recall Kuluka. His success in managing the copper mines warrants him officially taking over as the Legion Commander of the Spear Legion! Let Ezpan coordinate with Monkey, train the legion until September, then join the Northern Route Army."


    Bertade took out paper and pen, noting down the prince¡¯s appointments. He then swiftly drew up the appointment letter in text and illustrations, presenting it to the prince. Xiulote took out a Jade Badge marked with his name, stamped it on the appointment letter, and attached a Jade Talisman representing himself. The Head Warrior took out a cotton bag, placing both the appointment letter and the Jade Talisman inside, to hand over to the Messenger the next day.


    In this era where institution was just establishing, all rules were so simple and straightforward. The military, representing power, identified more with the commanders and individual authority rather than central appointments and Tokens.


    "Prince, what about General Balda?"


    Bertade asked again.


    Xiulote already had a decision in mind. He smiled slightly.


    "I will take Balda with me. This expedition, Aweit promised to give me several thousand warriors directly from the Royal Family. These armies from the Capital City are to be returned to the Alliance after the campaign ends and disbanded. As last time, the warriors of the Capital City will be commanded by Balda. He also has sufficient capacity and prestige to suppress the military nobility."


    Actually, I once asked him, but he did not favor the combat strength of the commoner¡¯s legion and preferred commanding thousands of warriors. Since he harbors such a mindset, it¡¯s hard for him to lead the Spear Legion well... So, it¡¯s better this way!"

 Chapter 288 - 153 Personnel Appointment_2

    Hearing His Highness¡¯s comment, Bertade silently shook his head. General Balda took the initiative by overseeing the new army¡¯s training. Having missed the opportunity to become a Legion Commander this time, he feared his future would be fraught with more hardship. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, approximately how many troops will the Northern Route Army deploy for this campaign, and from where will the logistics commence?"


    Bertade looked toward the youth; March was nearly over, and April was upon them. The spring plowing was not far off, and the departure of the vanguard was soon as well.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment. He had discussed the plan several times with his grandfather and had also made arrangements for what was to come.


    "The Northern Route Army¡¯s forces will be divided into four parts. Firstly, there are the new army and trusted aides, totaling over ten thousand men, whom I will entrust to you and Monkey to command. Next is family support, with at least four thousand Teotihuacan warriors, likely to be commanded by the teacher Olosh. There will also be over two thousand Temple Guards, which I plan to hand over to the experienced elder warrior Etalik, while his current position will be succeeded by Elvi. In addition, there will be a group of accompanying priests."


    Then come the warriors from the Capital City, Aweit will grant me a legion, probably around eight thousand men. Last time, the Great Nobility were imprisoned and couldn¡¯t participate in military discussions. This time, there definitely will be prominent members of the Capital City¡¯s nobility going to battle, leading separate forces from Balda to contain military power.


    Last are the Northern City-States. According to recent responses, General Osellor is willing to lend the Otomi legion and is also deliberately keeping his distance from our family. Leading the vanguard on this mission, the primary task is to meet with the Northern generals and then to recruit a batch of Chichimeca Canine Descendants. Since Balamo has spent a long time in the North, let him command the Otomi warriors and the Canine Descendants.


    The other Northern City-States can also provide several thousand warriors and militia, though the exact number is uncertain. As for logistics, most will come from the Lake Capital City, with the Holy City also providing a portion. The Western City-States will only offer supplementary support and cannot be relied upon as a main source."


    Bertade silently calculated that the total warriors and regular legions would exceed thirty thousand, with a similar number expected for the auxiliary militia and naval forces. Even for a diversionary Northern force, there would be at least sixty thousand troops. Contemplating this, the war-weary Head Warrior smiled in admiration; what a powerful Alliance indeed!


    Xiulote also calculated the approximate strength of the forces. His countenance remained calm, his eyes burning with desire. He longed to command even more troops, to seize more strategic and military advantages. On the battlefield, the many vanquish the few, the strong defeat the weak, and a skilled fighter seeks no conspicuous honors. Aweit had also taught him that a true warrior uses a pack of wolves to tear apart a solitary deer, securing a rightful victory when the enemy can be defeated!


    "I need more warriors, and that depends on the support from various City-States,¡ªas well as the promises and prices that must be paid."


    Xiulote pondered in silence, watching the charcoal slowly burn out in the campfire and gently shaking his head. Many embers remained in the firepit, like the unyielding City-States within the Alliance.


    As the night deepened and moonlight descended from the zenith, the two fell silent. The youth, now fatigued, gestured to the Head Warrior and fell soundly asleep under the moonlight.


    The loyal Head Warrior stepped out of the tent to give a few instructions to the surrounding guards, then returned to the side of His Highness. The seasoned warrior watched over the youth for a moment before settling by the campfire, with his eyes slightly closed, waiting for dawn in the darkness of the night.


    The night passed without incident. At dawn the next day, Xiulote awoke in the morning sun. Bertade had already prepared cold water, and the young man continued his willpower training, followed by his routine martial arts practice. He had spent a full month in the military camp, his daily routine exceedingly regular¡ªthe exception being his occasional returns to the Capital City, with the rest of his time devoted to training others and himself, leaving no time to even visit Alisa.


    After breakfast, Xiulote summoned Balda and Ezpan. Balda was the first to enter the tent; after a brief exchange, the fierce Eagle Warrior nodded in agreement with a smile, offering his respects before leaving. Ezpan, curious about the joyful expression of the training officer, wondered about his new position. Following that, Ezpan was also summoned inside.


    For the surrendered general in whom great hopes were pinned, Xiulote began with kind words of comfort and informed him that his next superior would be Kuluka. Then, His Highness solemnly ordered and presented strict assessment standards for the Spear Legion. After a mix of carrot and stick, Ezpan left, trembling and sweating from his forehead.


    Having dealt with the subsequent camp affairs, Xiulote looked up to see the sun nearing noon. He quickly had lunch and then motioned with a forceful wave.


    "To the Longbow Camp, to meet hunters from various regions."


    Protected by two hundred guards, Xiulote left the Spear Legion¡¯s encampment and headed straight west.


    The Longbow Camp was established in the western mountainous region, far away from the crowds, not far from Mount Estrella, the Holy Mountain near the Lake Capital City. Mount Estrella is one of the most sacred places in mythology and religion, situated dozens of miles to the west of the Capital City, and along with the underground Holy Lake, it is designated as the forbidden land of the Alliance.


    Mount Estrella also symbolizes the Mountain God¡¯s Snake Mountain, and at its peak sits the Temple of the Sun, within which blazes the Sacred Fire. At the end of every 52-year cycle, the most esteemed Priest would hold a fire ceremony there, to rekindle the world and move it into the next cycle. After religious reform, it was also designated as the Chief Divine¡¯s Primitive Temple, an important religious sanctuary that periodically received pilgrimages from priests and devotees.


    For the Royal Family and Great Nobility of the Alliance, the Holy Mountain is an environmentally pleasant vacation and leisure center, as well as a blessed place filled with the spirit of the divine. It lies within a geothermal-rich volcanic mountain range, with a warm climate all year round. Fertile volcanic ash near the Holy Mountain is planted with various beautiful tropical flowers and ubiquitous cocoa trees. At the foot of the Holy Mountain, there are also several warm and comfortable geothermal springs.


    Now, in the chilly winter days, large groups of splendidly dressed travelers could often be seen on the road. The Nobility, along with their families and servants, under the protection of private escorts, were successively heading to the Holy Mountain Temple to pray. There, they sought solace for their souls and enjoyed the spring-like beauty of the mountain forests.


    Xiulote stood amidst the mountain forest, gazing in the direction of the Holy Mountain. After months of busyness, he had never been to the Holy Mountain for vacation, nor did he know when he would next have leisure time. Perhaps he could take the lovely Alisa to enjoy the natural hot springs together.


    Xiulote indulged in the thought for a moment before putting on his cloak again. He discretely led the Guards, leaving the crowded main road, turning southwest toward the deep forest and headed for the Longbow Camp.


    As the sun began to set in the west, Xiulote finally arrived at the Longbow Camp. This was a large and historic wooden fortress, built during the early rise of the Mexica people, once housing heavy troops. However, as the Tepanec people in the west were ultimately fully conquered, the fortress gradually fell into disuse.


    Now, with the arrival of the Samurai and Militia, the wooden fortress came alive with noise again. Hundreds of Longbow Warriors were stationed on the fortress walls, on high alert and extremely vigilant. The guards carefully inspected Xiulote¡¯s Identity Jade Token, then, recognizing the familiar and kind face of His Highness, they shouted joyfully.


    Before long, hundreds of Samurai began to emerge from the camp. Most of these Warriors, born of followers, prostrated on the ground, offering their most thorough loyalty to His Highness with great reverence.


    Xiulote smiled genuinely from the heart. He took off his traveling cloak and handed it to the Head Warrior, then strode forward, lifting each of his loyal followers one by one. The young man occasionally called out the names of those he recognized, sometimes laughing as he asked about their progress with their literacy lessons, causing the Warriors to look distressed and speechless.


    Seeing this, Xiulote laughed heartily, patted the shoulders of the Warriors in the front row, and reminded them to study hard. Then, he strode deeply into the wooden fortress. Inside the fortress was a tight encampment and an expansive drill ground. Most of the drill ground had been converted into a shooting range, with wooden targets set at varying distances, many of which still had newly shot Wooden Arrows sticking out of them.


    The young man observed the distribution of arrows on the wooden targets and nodded slightly with a smile. Then he looked toward the center of the drill ground, where thousands of Hunters were already densely kneeling. These Hunters were dressed simply, many clad in only a robe. On both sides and the back, there were also many tribal members bare-chested, with just a long cloth wrapped around their waists.


    With the arrival of His Highness, the Longbow Warriors barked orders, and the noisy camp quickly quieted down. At that moment, thousands of people kneeled with heads bowed, orderly and so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Xiulote then glanced at the flagpole atop the fortress wall, where several heads were hanging, and he understood.


    Xiulote turned to Bertade with a smile.


    "Who¡¯s in charge of the camp here?"


    Bertade paused for a moment, then replied with a smile.


    "We just settled in not long ago. Toltec is temporarily acting as the camp¡¯s manager. He¡¯s a Samurai of common birth, one of the earliest followers, who later joined the Longbow Guards, and is excellent at Archery."


    Hearing this, Xiulote recalled a young man with a frown on his face struggling with his literacy studies and laughed again.


    "Call him forward!"

 Chapter 289 - 154 Black Wolf

    Thousands of troops bowed their heads, tens of thousands fell silent, and the wooden fortress was engulfed in tranquility. His Highness¡¯ voice, like a summons from the Heavenly Divine, echoed in the ears of all the samurai.


    Upon hearing the summons, a young samurai strode out from the ranks managing the tribespeople. He was in his early twenties, of average stature, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, his eyebrows angled upward like swords, and his eyes shone like stars. Within two or three steps, he arrived before Xiulote, knelt on one knee, offered a loud and respectful greeting, his spirit soaring. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, Toltec from Tepanecapan salutes you! May you soar high like a golden eagle, hunting the world!"


    At these words, Xiulote laughed heartily. Although he had grown more somber over the year, the youthful spirit within him remained undimmed. Seeing such a vibrant and spirited demeanor among his followers pleased him greatly.


    Once the young samurai had finished his greeting, Xiulote stepped forward, personally helped Toltec to his feet, and laughed loudly.


    "Toltec, my valiant Black Wolf, how fares this camp?"


    The young samurai stood tall and proud, responding loudly.


    "Your Highness, I manage the camp as if it were my own limb. Presently, there are a thousand hunters from the villages and two thousand from the tribes! Additionally, eight hundred from the Longbow Camp are stationed here to assist with management."


    Xiulote nodded slightly, as the Longbow Camp, his trusted aides, were loyal to him alone, with the Head Warrior serving as the Camp Commander. After a moment of consideration, the young man asked with a solemn voice.


    "Toltec, you are in charge of recruiting soldiers. Why are there only a thousand village hunters, yet so many from the tribes?"


    Toltec bowed his head slightly, yet responded in an equally loud voice.


    "Your Highness, the village hunters are of little use, but the tribal hunters are excellent! Following your standards, they must hit the vital points on a straw man within thirty steps. Even after scouring through the villages of the Lake Region, I found only a thousand suitable candidates. However, with a little persuasion, the hunting and fishing mountain tribes flocked here in droves, many of whom were exceptional. According to the standards, I selected over two thousand, from whom you can make a finer selection!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily.


    "You certainly know my mind. With the Alliance¡¯s campaign imminent, as long as their archery is up to standard, the more the merrier! Where do these tribal hunters hail from, and how did they come to pledge their allegiance?"


    "Your Highness, there are over twenty small fishing and hunting tribes here, each with at least fifty to sixty qualified hunters, some with over a hundred. Most are from the western mountain regions, Tepanec and Otomi tribesmen, while a few come from the southern highlands, the Jontal tribesmen."


    "The Alliance has waged war for two years, and even the mountains have known no peace. The Tonsured Guard Camp has campaigned against the rebellious tribesmen in the mountains. Major Tepanec tribes with lineage have been annihilated, fields burned, and the smaller tribes have scattered in terror. The Otomi have experienced successive wars, with many tribes moving deeper into the mountains. The Jontal were expelled from the Valley by emerging southern City-States, also retreating into the forest."


    Toltec¡¯s eyes gleamed as he spoke of war and carnage, much as one might savor a fine wine.


    Xiulote was momentarily taken aback, these wild mountain tribes had all been expelled by the Alliance, struggling to survive in the barren mountains and forests.


    "With the forests so poor and game so scarce, how can they accommodate so many wandering tribes?"


    "You¡¯ve said it, Your Highness. The mountains are indeed barren, and agriculture yields very little; they all rely on hunting and trade to survive. Now, with a massive influx of tribes, the mountains have begun to experience food shortages, leading to incessant fighting amongst themselves. Your Highness¡¯ prohibition against luxury coupled with the samurai¡¯s strict regulation of traders meant that the mountain tribes had nowhere to sell their hunted Feathers at a good price. Military supplies were also controlled, preventing the sale of bird and beast hides. Moreover, with the Alliance¡¯s conscription underway and a significant requisition of grains, there was no surplus in the surrounding villages... Within a few months, almost no corn made its way into the mountains; the tribes began to run out of food and even resorted to cannibalism."


    Toltec laughed out loud, his eyebrows quivering, revealing a wolf-like ferocity.


    "To prevent the tribesmen from affecting the Holy Mountain and plundering the villages, the local Great Nobility were ready to send several hundred samurai to thoroughly purge the mountain region. However, when they heard of Your Highness¡¯ intention to recruit, they held off. I¡¯ve been stationed here for more than a month, blocking the mountain passes, capturing passing traders, and shooting those who went out to gather salt, allowing not a speck of salt or grain into the mountains!


    Since the large salt mines were requisitioned by Your Highness, salt has been in high demand everywhere and can be sold freely. Traders are reluctant to risk coming here. Although many tribes have reserves of food, without salt for a month, they become utterly weak. At this point, by offering salt and food, they all came out to pledge their allegiance!"


    With just a few words, Toltec laid bare the dire situation in the mountains. He analyzed the causes accurately and responded effectively, thanks to the teachings he had received from His Highness.


    Upon hearing these words, Xiulote¡¯s face showed approval; the lessons he had given his followers had not been in vain. He then looked around at the two thousand kneeling tribal hunters, observing their generally emaciated faces, slightly swollen bodies, lifeless eyes, and the fear emanating from their bones... After a moment, the young man¡¯s mood became somber, and he nodded calmly.


    "Very well. Toltec, you have the wisdom of a wolf! Now, how about the archery skills of these hunters? I wish to test them myself!"


    "Please observe the shooting, Your Highness!"


    Toltec bowed respectfully. Then, turning around with a fierce glint in his eye, he shouted loudly at the hunters.


    "Don¡¯t delay, come forward and demonstrate your archery to His Highness! Each tribe shall send ten people for the contest, each to shoot five arrows. The tribe with the best archery will receive an extra bag of salt and ten bags of grain! Those who do not meet the standard will be expelled and return to the forests to await death!"


    At the chilling and ruthless words, the tribal hunters stirred. With many times their number of relatives behind them, standing here they represented the hope of life. After a brief and frenzied argument, representatives from each tribe¡¯s hunters stepped forward. They crawled on the ground terrified, clumsily paying their respects to His Highness, then took out their Longbows and aimed at the human-shaped straw targets twenty steps away.

 Chapter 290 - 154 Black Wolf_2

    Xiulote first waved his hand, indicating that Bertade need not use his shield for protection. At this distance, the tribal Hunting Bow with Wooden Arrows couldn¡¯t penetrate a Samurai¡¯s Cotton Armor, unless it hit the neck or eyes. Observing for a moment, the young pupil narrowed his eyes. He moved silently two steps, positioning himself under the cover of the Head Warrior.


    The skilled old Hunters raised their small Hunting Bows, slightly tilting their heads to aim. They held the arrow¡¯s tail with the most primitive release technique, pulling the string past half their arm, and then releasing it cleanly and naturally. The faint sound of Arrows continued unceasingly, as the simple Arrows traced different trajectories, accurately hitting the head of the straw targets, weakly sticking around the eyes and neck.


    Xiulote closely watched, the first group of old Hunters hit the head with all five arrows, with at least two striking the critical points of the eyes and neck. He was unspeakably shocked by the Archery skills of these old Hunters! The reason they only shot at the twenty-step straw targets was not due to limited shooting skills, but because the effective stable range of their simple Hunting Bows was only twenty steps!


    "If they were equipped with high-quality Longbows and Copper Arrows, and spent a few months getting used to the new weapons... even the Samurai would likely not escape a precise arrow at close range..."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression grew solemn, he looked towards Bertade, and the Head Warrior also nodded seriously. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It took only a few dozen breaths for the first group of old Hunters to complete their shooting, followed by the second and third groups. The tribal Hunters who had finished shooting sequentially retreated outside the field, kneeling down anxiously, waiting for the results that would decide their fate.


    Xiulote watched the straw targets, his expression solemn. The level of the following groups of Hunters gradually declined, but all consistently hit the targets, many striking vital points. Seeing the straw targets¡¯ heads and hearts densely filled with Arrows, the youth¡¯s heart was both exhilarated and faintly worried.


    These tribal Hunters could hunt birds and hares in the mountains and forests, with Archery skills that were terrifyingly honed over years or even decades. They lacked the technology and metal tools to make Longbows, so they could only await slaughter helplessly before the Armored Samurai. Yet once they truly learned the secrets of the Longbow, could they become a new threat to the Alliance?


    Xiulote briefly pondered, then came to a realization. These mountain tribes lacked the productive capacity to manufacture weapons and did not have enough people to form a scale. Even if they obtained some Longbows, they could not withstand the large-scale, well-organized Alliance army. Their existence would only inject new, high-quality fuel into the Alliance¡¯s war machine!


    Realizing this, Xiulote laughed out loud again. He looked at the spirited Toltec, clapping the young Samurai on the shoulder with force.


    "Toltec, this batch of tribal Hunters is not bad, you did well! Bring the promised supplies, I want to reward them double!"


    Toltec was slightly startled, as his Highness personally dispensing rewards to the humble mountain people... Obedience and reverence prevented him from saying much, and he immediately went down to give orders. Soon, food and salt were brought to the side of the field. Under the eager eyes of thousands of tribal Hunters, and amid the genuine cheers of the winning tribes, these supplies were personally bestowed by his Highness to the most outstanding Hunter tribes. And other outstanding Hunters from different tribes were also given a bag of grain and salt.


    Soon after, His Highness generously announced.


    "All the tribal Hunters will be conscripted by the great Alliance, and you will fight for the Alliance! And all the tribal citizens will become citizens of the great Alliance. Your tribes will henceforth move to the fertile lands of the Alliance, sheltered under the supreme Chief Divine, never again having to worry about food and salt!"


    The expected cheers did not arise. The tribal Hunters looked at each other. Their vague repulsion to the rule of the Alliance, skepticism about their future lives. Under the threat and scolding of the Longbow Warriors, they were forced to lower their heads, offering mismatched cheers for a moment, then revealing scarcely concealed worried expressions.


    Seeing the performance of the tribal Hunters, Xiulote slightly lowered his eyes. He determined to make heavy use of these Hunters, taking them directly under his command. It was easy to rule with power and favor, but gaining the citizens¡¯ trust was the hardest. Fortunately, there was plenty of time ahead, start by controlling the mountain tribes, then gradually subdue and assimilate them.


    Next, the village Hunters also stepped forward in turn, displaying their Archery. Their skills were just mediocre, barely hitting the twenty-step straw targets, with only a few consistently hitting vital points.


    Xiulote said little. He turned his head, looking at the young Samurai, and smiled lightly.


    "Toltec, it¡¯s your turn. Let me see your Archery!"


    Toltec was slightly startled, then responded loudly with confidence, stepping onto the shooting ground. He took out his Longbow, let his fellow Warriors move the straw target farther away, only stopping at seventy steps¡¯ distance. Then, he pulled the string with three fingers, the arrow resting on the inside, the drawing hand slightly loose, keeping his wrist straight, pulling the string to his cheek. At this distance, the head of the straw target was just a vague little spot. The young Warrior carefully aimed for a few breaths, then suddenly released.


    The moment after releasing the arrow, Toltec shouted loudly.


    "Hit the head!"


    The moment he released, relying on countless previous shots, he was already certain of where the arrow would hit.


    Only a "whoosh" sound tremored, the War Arrow like Lightning, flashing past in an instant. Then, the War Arrow thudded into the head of the straw target, piercing it front to back, exploding a clump of dried grass, shooting deep into the distant soil.


    Then, cries of proclamation burst throughout the heavens and the earth.


    "Hit the chest! Hit the arm! Hit the leg! Hit the heart!"

 Chapter 291 - 154 Black Wolf_3

    After a few calls, the humanoid straw target in the distance had exploded with five arrowholes, and then gradually crumbled. The drifting dry grass fell to the ground, accompanied by astonished gazes from the crowd.


    Toltec raised his head, surveying all around him. His eyebrows were like inverted swords, his eyes sparkled with electricity, piercing enough to make all the Hunters bow and crouch, silent and wordless. It was only when he saw the smiling prince that he fell to his knees with a thud, loudly reporting.


    "Your Highness, Toltec is honored not to have failed your command!" S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote laughed heartily. He stepped forward, helped Toltec up, and praised him loudly.


    "Toltec, you are my bravest Black Wolf! The black feather on the wings of an eagle!"


    "Your Highness, I am willing to catch stags for you, hunt bears, and even ride the wind and spread my wings across the world for you!"


    Toltec shouted again, his gaze expectant as he looked at the prince.


    Xiulote appreciated him in his heart and intended to cultivate him. He asked with a smile.


    "Toltec, the foundation of a Martial Family lies in Martial Arts. Your Archery is indeed extraordinary, but how well do you manage with the War Club?"


    Toltec pondered for a moment, then replied with confidence.


    "Your Highness, I can match five elite Samurai!"


    Xiulote was slightly surprised. He looked at Toltec¡¯s confident face for a while, then decided to give him a slightly easier challenge by finding him some weaker opponents.


    "Very well! Someone bring forth five tribe Chieftains to battle Toltec at the same time. The loser will not be punished, but the victor will be richly rewarded!"


    At the prince¡¯s command, within a short moment, five prime-aged Chieftains were selected and stepped forward. They wielded their familiar Stone Spears, coordinating with each other. On the other side stood a young Samurai, with a shield in one hand and a blunt War Club in the other.


    The Chieftains cautiously gathered close together, but Toltec charged straight at them, like a cheetah sprinting. As the sides approached each other, the Chieftains thrust their Stone Spears simultaneously. In that instant, the young Samurai forcefully stamped his foot and slid diagonally, shifting a step to the right. Then, using the shield on his left to block the heavily pressured spearhead, he turned his body and swung hard, striking one Chieftain¡¯s side with a thud. A miserable cry followed, and the Chieftain fell to the ground with a thump.


    Then, taking advantage of the brief chaos caused by his opponent¡¯s fall, Toltec delivered a slanting slash that crashed onto the second Chieftain¡¯s shoulder, causing him so much pain that he loosened his grip, and the Stone Spear fell to the ground. Another fierce side strike followed, and the second Chieftain also fell to the ground.


    Seeing this, Xiulote knew the outcome was determined. He turned his head, pondering over Toltec¡¯s shooting technique, and asked curiously.


    "Bertade, did Toltec learn the three-finger shooting technique from you?"


    The Head Warrior responded calmly.


    "Yes, Your Highness. You once instructed me to teach them Archery. The new shooting technique is more stable, and the release is extremely quick, significantly improving accuracy."


    Xiulote remembered his own Archery, his face reddened imperceptibly, and then changed the subject.


    "The new style Longbow used by Toltec has a changed shape."


    Bertade nodded, explaining earnestly,


    "Indeed. The old Longbows were taller than a person and symmetrical from top to bottom. When nocking an arrow for the shot, only tall and long-armed Samurai could fully draw the bow. Others had to shoot at an angle, which was quite inconvenient. The new Longbows, while still the same height, have the nocking point shifted downwards, with a longer top and shorter bottom, much more suited to the average-sized Samurai."


    Xiulote nodded slowly. The new modified Longbow was more similar to the Japanese Bow, with the upper arc occupying almost two-thirds of the entire length. This design disrupted shooting balance, further increasing the difficulty of shooting, but it also expanded the usable trajectory for shooting. There was no choice, it was the frustration of a nation of shorter people, and without the Compound Bow, this was all they could do.


    As the two were discussing, they heard cheers from the Samurai. Xiulote looked towards the center, where Toltec had already knocked all the Chieftains down, letting them groan at his feet. The young Samurai once again surveyed around authoritatively, the tribe Hunters submitted in awe, and then he turned and approached the prince, kneeling in salute.


    "Your Highness, Toltec is honored not to have failed your command!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily. He pulled Toltec up and said with a smile,


    "Excellent! Very good! Toltec, I have one last challenge for you. Inscribe your name into the ground with your war club!"


    Upon hearing this, a bitter expression suddenly appeared on the elated face of Toltec. He widened his eyes, looked at His Highness, his smile freezing silently, and then hesitantly said.


    "Ah, this, Your Highness..."


    "Write!"


    Toltec shrank his neck and obediently lowered his head. He took up the war club, normally inscribed the character "Tol," then became puzzled and only managed to inscribe "wood" after a long while. Next, he skipped the second character and slowly inscribed "big." Finally, with a dejected posture, he inscribed the character "brother."


    Xiulote connected them and looked, immediately not knowing whether to laugh or cry, "Tol-wood-big-brother." In front of all the officers, it was not good to say anything directly. He sighed inwardly, took the stick, and carefully inscribed the four characters "Toltec." The youth watched for a moment, remembered a great literary figure, and then said in a deep, meaningful voice,


    "Toltec, do you know the origin of your name?"


    Toltec¡¯s eyes lit up. He stood up tall and answered loudly.


    "Your Highness, I know! You have said that it comes from the heroic ancestors of the Mexica people, Toltec, meaning painter and craftsman!" Since the rewriting of history, the Toltec had become the ancestors of the Mexica people.


    Hearing this, Xiulote nodded and, pretending to be angry, said.


    "Yes, the name Toltec comes from Toltec. He was an outstanding painter, a skilled craftsman, and the light of civilization! Toltec, why can¡¯t you just learn to write?"


    Upon hearing this, Toltec smiled confidently. Prepared for his lord¡¯s questioning, he called out with a voice as loud as thunder.


    "Your Highness, I am a painter and a craftsman as well. I use my war club as a paintbrush, with the enemy¡¯s blood as my paint! I use feathered arrows for beams, and the enemies¡¯ bones to build towers! You are the fire, and I am the torch that burns for you, scorching away all the weeds of this world! Your Highness, I am a samurai loyal to you, your will is my reason. Why bother with books? War clubs and bows far surpass books!"


    With Toltec¡¯s hearty shout, the declaration of samurai echoed in the camp. Eight hundred longbow warriors, who had practiced many times, shouted in unison.


    "Your Highness, we pledge loyalty to you, we follow your will! Why bother with books? War clubs and bows far surpass books!"


    The grand shouts echoed between heaven and earth, carrying rolling killing intent, and the determination to sweep through everything.


    The hunters watched the samurai shouting with rapture, as their roars turned into orderly wolf howls, like the God of Death¡¯s Black Wolves descending upon the mortal realm. Amidst the samurai¡¯s terrifying howls and fierce gazes, they prostrated, trembling on both legs, soon becoming limp, losing all their strength.


    In the midst of his followers¡¯ resounding shouts, Xiulote laughed shaking his head. He raised his arms high and went into the midst of the crowd, howling like a wolf for the first time.


    "Awooo~~~ oooo~~~!"


    Seeing the actions of His Highness, his followers also raised their hands and shouted even more excitedly.


    "Awooo~~~ oooo~~~!"


    In the desolate and secluded forest, their high-pitched howls rose into the sky. The God of Death, Xiulotel, became the howling Black Wolf, crossing the forest, startling countless birds into flight.


    Only after a long while did Xiulote stop with a big laugh. He slowly lowered his hands, and the followers fell silent, looking at His Highness, waiting. His Highness took a breath, chuckled with a somewhat hoarse voice, and ordered.


    "Well done! Toltec, with your resourcefulness and ferocity, you are my finest Black Wolf! These three thousand militia longbowmen, I entrust to you. Go, build the altar, and have them take oaths of allegiance!"


    Toltec was overjoyed. He knelt down on both knees and respectfully bowed his head in satisfaction.


    "Your Highness, I follow your will!"

 Chapter 292 - 155 Longbow Militia

    The sun set in the west, casting an endless array of splendid evening glows, releasing a golden radiance that lit up the skies of the Divine Kingdom as if igniting a sacred fire.


    Beneath the skies, in the encampment amidst the forested mountains, the accompanying priests swiftly erected a simple altar. They kindled a towering Sacred Fire before the altar and then chanted ancient and profound hymns, enveloping the campsite in a mysterious atmosphere.


    Xiulote donned a magnificent ceremonial dress and stood authoritatively upon the altar. Peering through the flames before him, he looked towards the awed, kneeling tribal hunters and intoned loudly,


    "Praise our god Huitzilopochtli!... Offer sacrifices to Him!"


    Upon hearing His Highness¡¯s command, Toltec carried out a freshly caught wild deer, respectfully approaching the altar. He knelt on one knee, lowered his head, and pressed the deer firmly onto the altar. Meanwhile, a priest held the deer¡¯s head and placed a wide clay basin below its slender neck.


    Only then did Xiulote draw out the obsidian dagger for the sacrifice, praying loudly with a solemn expression. Suddenly, his voice halted, and his movements became swift and forceful. The sacrificial dagger sliced through the deer¡¯s neck, breaking through the soft resistance, allowing the warmth of life to flow out, steadily filling the clay basin. The deer struggled fiercely for a few moments, firmly restrained by the robust Toltec, and soon lay motionless.


    Xiulote stood up and continued chanting, calling for the arrival of the Chief Divine. Samurai and priests carried out the subsequent procedures. Shortly after, the entire deer was cast into the blazing bonfire, and the scent of burning flesh and blood quickly permeated the air. Then, the smell of roasting meat shifted to the acrid odor of charring. The blood in the clay basin was prepared into blood wine, poured into a row of clay cups, and placed beside the Sacred Fire to be warmed by the flames.


    Observing the faces below him, full of reverence and obedience, Xiulote nodded in satisfaction. This was a holocaust wherein every bit of flesh was sacrificed through the flames to the Chief Divine, with the burning "fragrance" praising the sacrifices, expressing inner piety. This type of sacrificial rite was widespread in the Zhou Dynasty offerings, initially with humans and later with cattle as sacrifices. In the doctrines of the Cross Sects, it was considered the best sacrifice, often employing sheep or birds as the sacrifices.


    Xiulote was always pushing for religious reform. Whenever he was in charge, he would use animal sacrifices instead of the common practice of human ones.


    The young priest no longer dwelled on thoughts. He loudly chanted the next part of the ritual.


    "Praise our god Huitzilopochtli!... Offer Him your entire body, heart, and soul!"


    This was the loyalty oath segment, where priests sprinkled sulfur powder into the bright yellow Sacred Fire, causing the flames to turn a ghostly blue instantly, the pungent smell assaulting the senses as if connecting to another world. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The chieftains of the tribes, unable to suppress their fear, were hastened by the samurais towards the altar. They faced the burning Sacred Fire, knelt forcefully before the priests, and bowed their heads deeply. Then, the priests mercilessly shaved off their hair, tossing years of grown locks into the fire. The flames rose high, and the black smoke carried the converts¡¯ spirits into the Divine Kingdom, into the hands of the Chief Divine.


    Xiulote proclaimed with solemnity,


    "The Chief Divine is almighty... He watches over you at all times, granting you light, food, and offspring. He holds your souls, deciding your posthumous fate, whether it be the Divine Kingdom or the Abyss... From now on, you are the Chief Divine¡¯s faithful, as well as His warriors, fighting to spread the Chief Divine¡¯s glory!"


    After promising rewards in this world and the next, Xiulote took out over twenty Sun Amulet necklaces, placing one around each chieftain¡¯s neck. This was a reward for their loyalty, as well as a symbol of their conversion. Then, the chieftains guzzled the deer blood wine and grasped the front of their silver necklace, the pure gold Sun Hummingbird. Feeling the Divine Symbol in their hands, they sang the Chief Divine¡¯s praises while kneeling, repeating His divine name under the priests¡¯ guidance.


    In the midst of the noble ritual and the mystical atmosphere, hunters came up in groups, shaving off all their hair, drinking the pungent blood wine, and then praying to the Chief Divine while kneeling together. They altered their bodies, henceforth keeping their hair cut short to prove their devotion and slightly increase their agility. They had been imbued with faith, from that time on devoted to the Chief Divine, their loyalty to the Alliance maintained through religious ideals.


    Xiulote, representing the divinities, stood majestically on the altar until the loyalty ceremony was over. He looked at the bald-headed hunters below, then at the new-style longbows resembling Japanese bows, and his lips curved into a slight smile.


    "They should also be distributed a cotton robe and wrapped in a headscarf," the young man remembered the classic monk soldier attire, chuckling softly in his heart yet nodding with a solemn face.


    As the lengthy ritual concluded, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, and the skies were filled with countless stars. In the parade ground, more bonfires were lit, and the aroma of food began to spread¡ªthe start of the evening banquet.


    At the most central bonfire, Xiulote changed into a relaxed samurai attire and joyfully drank and feasted, surrounded by his followers. As the feast warmed up, newly converted tribal chieftains respectfully came together. They wanted to offer a dance to the revered and sacred "Great Chief."


    Xiulote graciously accepted. He sat cross-legged in the center, receiving the tribute from all. Thousands of tribespeople began singing ancient mountain ballads, praising heroes and ancestors, their desolate voices drifting into the distance. Elderly hunters played the bamboo flute and bone ocarinas, the flutes¡¯ melodious sounds and the ocarinas¡¯ rustic tones intertwined as if they were the natural music of the heavens.

 Chapter 293 - 155 Longbow Militia_2

    Subsequently, chieftains adorned in feather crowns made their entrance. They alternated their steps, jingling the bells on their hands and feet, waving their hollow wooden sticks, creating a gust-like, deep whooshing sound. After dancing for several moments, from time to time a chieftain would respectfully step forward, kneel on both knees before His Highness, and lift up the deer meat, bird meat, rabbit meat, goose, and even the symbol of death, the black vulture, all personally roasted.


    Xiulote smiled and nodded his acknowledgment one by one. He motioned for Bertade to not worry and personally took the food, sampling a small bite of each as a symbolic gesture. Every time he tasted an offering, a tribe¡¯s militia would cheer in unison, jumping into dance. By the end of all the offerings, the camp was filled with shouts of elation and joy.


    "Great Chief! Great Chief! Great Chief!..."


    Xiulote carefully distinguished the dialects of these tribes, then burst into laughter. With a grand wave of his hand, the Samurai attending him also rose to their feet. They sang the songs of flowers and death, beat the low-sounding war drums, blew the heavy conch shells, and offered up the Warrior¡¯s War Dance to His Highness!


    The vigorous dance matched the earth-shaking music, the skies filled with cheers accompanying the high-sung songs, like heady wine, brought Xiulote an unparalleled sense of ease and exhilaration! He drank deeply from his tequila, forgetting all the troubles of the Capital City, recalling feasts long past, laughing and singing out loud.


    No one could make out the song His Highness sang, not even the Head Warrior, who had accompanied him for many years, could only guess. He felt the young man¡¯s brimming valor, witnessed his spirited demeanor, yet within that reckless abandon, he tasted a deeply hidden nostalgia.


    Unwittingly, the night deepened. Amidst the song, the moon rose to the zenith, then silently drifted westward. The moonlight faded, shining upon the dying campfires on the ground, taking with it distant dreams.


    As the first light of dawn brightened the sky, the regular rhythm of his body woke Xiulote from his drunken stupor.


    Inside the largest wooden hut, the young man suddenly opened his eyes. He looked at the faint glow of dawn, pressed hard against his forehead, and groaned softly, feeling somewhat reluctant.


    "Last night in my dreams, fragrance filled my journeying robe. My homeland exists only in old dreams~~"


    The following two days remained busy. After the rituals and feasts, the loyalty of the tribe hunters was at an acceptable level and slowly improved with the guidance of the accompanying priests.


    Xiulote personally oversaw the following training. The training for the Longbow Hunters was straightforward. In terms of martial arts, they only needed to practice archery repeatedly, and when unstringing their bows, practice with the short dagger they carried.


    Tactically, as militia, they didn¡¯t need to learn formations, just to understand the commands of drums and conch signals, and to recognize the flags indicating the direction of attack. Specifically, within their ranks, they only had to practice gathering, dispersing, advancing, retreating, extending the flanks, and targeted shooting... such simple and effective tactical maneuvers.


    Xiulote stayed for two more days. Under his supervision, more than two thousand Tlaxcalan Bows were finally transported from the armory, giving the tribe hunters a preliminary re-equipment. And approximately seven to eight hundred new Longbows were given priority to the older hunters proficient in archery. The remainder of the Longbows was still being gathered. Of course, such a costly state weapon had to be reluctantly handed over by the armory only after His Highness applied repeated pressure. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In his free time from training, Xiulote would always summon the military officials of the camp and share his understanding of the Longbow Militia with them. Not until the sun of April shone upon the land, bringing more humidity to the air, did he finally call Toltec for some last instructions.


    "Toltec, my Black Wolf. The battlefield role of the Longbow Militia is to provide consistent and strong support, and to make effective shots when occupying favorable positions. Their most crucial ability is mobility, they must run faster than any of the Samurai!


    The Longbow Militia should avoid all forms of close combat, always maintaining a distance from the enemy. Before the battle, they should advance to harass, move quickly when the fight intensifies, looking for opportunities to shoot from the flanks. Most importantly, keep the retreat orderly when pursued! You need to practice pursuing and retreating with the Samurai and them.


    Apart from the fierce battles, the mountain people could move freely in the forest, taking advantage of the bow¡¯s range to continuously attack the enemy¡¯s camps and supply lines... just like the Otomi Militia did before!"


    Toltec nodded earnestly. He took out paper and pen, drawing little moving figures, then marked them one, two, three, four.


    Xiulote took the young warrior¡¯s notebook, flipped through the records of the drawings, and nodded with a mix of satisfaction and helplessness. He laid his hands on Toltec¡¯s shoulders again.


    "Toltec, when I lead all the Longbow Warriors away at the end of the month, I will leave you a contingent of Samurai guards as the core force to command the Longbow Militia... I¡¯ve never worried about your exceptional bravery, and I believe in your agile intelligence. But, I have higher expectations of you. You must become an excellent Commander-in-Chief, you have much more to learn! There are no others here, so I¡¯m giving you a new military order.


    Now, 180 days remain until October, and every day you must remember three characters. When you lead the Longbow Militia to me again, you must have mastered at least five hundred characters! If you cannot complete this task, you will hand over the militia to the adjutant during the western campaign, and come to my tent to practice writing every day!"


    Toltec¡¯s face, once brimming with confidence, suddenly soured. He thought for a moment, then tried to defend himself.


    "Your Highness, you can¡¯t count it like that! Every day I remember three characters, the next day I¡¯ll forget two, so actually, I only keep one..."


    Xiulote had already stridden out of the tent, leaving a commanding order in the wind.


    "Then remember five characters a day!"


    Bertade smiled slightly, patted Toltec¡¯s shoulder, and then left with a laugh.


    Xiulote bid farewell to his reverent followers and departed from the mountain camp. He had no time to enjoy the scenery of the Holy Mountain but rushed to the bustling Lake Texcoco instead.


    Though a month had passed since he was last there, he always maintained a close connection with the Capital City. The High Priesthood sent priests to accompany the army, envoys from the Divine Revelation Place periodically reported on the latest developments, and Aweit also sent people to inquire about the new army and new weapons. The Mexica war machine kept turning, and preparations for the important spring plowing were also underway.


    Lightly dressed and accompanied by his escort of Samurai, Xiulote moved swiftly. He had just received the latest briefing¡ªthe work on gunpowder weapons on Heavenly Fire Island had made new progress. In no time, the young man was boating on Lake Texcoco, bypassing the majestic Lake Capital City without entering, heading toward the southern side of the lake to Heavenly Fire Island.


    Seeing His Highness¡¯s flag from afar, Esko had been waiting at the dock for a long time. He bowed respectfully and then, upon His Highness¡¯s inquiry, reported the latest saltpeter stockpile. Xiulote calculated in his mind the amount of gunpowder that could be produced and nodded with mild satisfaction.


    Next, Esko proudly and respectfully announced to His Highness,


    "Respected Your Highness, the saltpeter production on Heavenly Fire Island has now reached two hundred jin per day! As the collection of saltpeter decreases due to the abundance of saltworkers¡¯ hands, the output of saltpeter will further increase!"


    Xiulote looked toward the fence where two or three dozen new heads were displayed and nodded slowly and calmly. April had arrived, the weather was warming, and the rainy season was approaching. Collecting saltpeter from the alkali lands was becoming difficult, and would soon cease altogether.


    "Esko, well done! As always, the saltpeter that is processed must be sealed in jars and stored in scattered locations. Be extremely careful when transporting it...How long can the remaining saltpeter sustain our consumption? Has there been any progress in the development of urine saltpeter?"


    Esko replied with a smile,


    "Your Highness, rest assured, there are mountains of stored saltpeter! Based on the current rate of consumption, it can last until the cold season at year¡¯s end. At that time, we can collect saltpeter once again."


    Following that, Esko paused slightly, then spoke in a lower voice,


    "As for the development of urine saltpeter... I will double my supervision over Moreno, the saltworks leader, and also assign this task to other saltworking teams!"


    Xiulote glanced at Esko¡¯s fierce expression and commanded in a deep voice,


    "Good. Esko, you handle the nuances yourself, I want results!"


    Having said that, Xiulote affectionately patted Esko on the shoulder. He pondered for a moment, then took out the Sun Necklace hanging with a pure gold amulet and personally placed it around the excited saltpeter overseer¡¯s neck, before advising in a low voice,


    "The saltworkers need devout faith to maintain their enthusiasm for work. I will send a few priests to reside here permanently, who will also exercise further control over the saltworkers."


    With his instructions complete, Xiulote maintained the seriousness on his face. He turned and looked toward Talaya, whose eyes were filled with spring and who waited quietly. He approached her with dignity, and then, after watching the potter girl¡¯s expectant expression, hesitated for a moment before finally cracking a slight smile.

 Chapter 294 - 156 Experiments with Primitive Gunpowder Weapons

    The gentle breeze of spring swept across the surface of the lake, also trimming the new sprouts along the shore. April was a season of burgeoning life. The warmth of a smile reflected in the eyes of a young potter girl, flowing into her heart like spring water, breathing life into the seeds of longing.


    Talaya¡¯s face bloomed with a joyous smile. She stepped forward and tightly embraced Xiulote¡¯s increasingly mature form. Then, tilting her head slightly upwards, her bright eyes like liquid pools, her tender gaze lingered on the young man¡¯s face, unwilling to part even for a moment.


    Xiulote stood silently, his thoughts indescribable. His body initially stiffened, his arms slightly resisting, an instinctive desire to break free from the embrace. Soon, however, he felt Talaya¡¯s clingy attachment and saw the affection in her eyes. Not wanting to hurt her and harboring feelings of his own, he sighed and focused on the matter at hand.


    "Talaya, how is the progress on the production of gunpowder?"


    "Your Highness, all the women have mastered the techniques for mixing gunpowder. The complete set of wooden tools and steps have been written down. Given ample supplies of the three ingredients, we can mix large quantities at any time," she reported.


    Xiulote nodded. Primitive black gunpowder didn¡¯t store or transport well¡ªleft too long or jostled, its three ingredients often separated into layers. Thus, the young man preferred to stockpile ingredients, mix the gunpowder on the spot, and use the gunpowder weapons as soon as they were made.


    "Any results in the research of the new gunpowder?" Xiulote asked.


    "Your Highness, I tried adding different ingredients and have broadly grasped the burning and explosive effects of various gunpowder mixtures. But that critical step you mentioned¡ªI haven¡¯t found a clue to it yet," she confessed.


    Talaya¡¯s gaze dimmed slightly, and her face showed a hint of self-reproach.


    Xiulote smiled gently. Without the clues of Divine Revelation, technological innovation was always going to be slow. Improving gunpowder wasn¡¯t something that could be completed quickly.


    "Talaya, don¡¯t rush. Take your time and be safe... How are the experiments with the three types of gunpowder weapons I ordered going?"


    Talaya¡¯s smile returned. She nodded vigorously, reluctantly released her embrace, and resumed her efficient demeanor as the gunpowder manager.


    "Your Highness, the fire arrows are now ready for combat use. The Clay Tribulus is very unstable, and igniting them is extremely dangerous; many laborers have been injured by explosions. The wooden cannon makes a loud noise, quite frightening. But we can¡¯t load too much gunpowder into it for firing, since it¡¯s exploded once already," she explained.


    Hearing about the explosion accident, Xiulote¡¯s expression grew serious. He looked at the potter girl¡¯s slender, weight-reduced face with concern. Stretching out his hand, he took hold of Talaya¡¯s soft palm. Feeling the onset of callouses beginning to form in her smooth palm, he gripped it firmly and said tenderly.


    "Talaya, don¡¯t personally engage in mixing the gunpowder... Take me to the weapon testing ground. I want to see their effects in person."


    Talaya nodded joyfully. Walking side by side, surrounded by the protective circle of samurai, they quickly arrived at a spacious clearing. The ground was studded with straw dummies, some clad in Cotton Armor and Leather Armor, with distance markers on the floor.


    The craftsmen involved in the weapons development had been waiting for a while. The young potter girl gave some detailed instructions, and a large group of laborers followed orders, carefully bringing out the three types of weapons for the craftsmen to demonstrate.


    The finished fire arrows didn¡¯t look much different from regular war arrows. The difference was a spherical paper gunpowder bag tied to the back end of the arrowhead, filled with a little over two ounces of gunpowder. The craftsmen used flint to ignite the match cord of the gunpowder bag and then drew a Tlaxcalan Bow, mounted the fire arrow, and shot it with great force.


    Loaded with a gunpowder bag, the fire arrow¡¯s weight nearly doubled. It wasn¡¯t very fast and arced clearly through the air, landing beside the straw dummy more than twenty meters away. Everyone held their breath and watched as, after three or four seconds, the fire arrow suddenly burst into a bright flame. Instantly, the flames leaped up, quickly lighting the straw dummy, and smoke began to drift away. The intense flames lasted for two seconds before weakening, continuing to burn steadily on the dummy.


    Xiulote estimated in his mind that, with the proportion of saltpeter reduced, the burning time of the gunpowder was noticeably longer. Looking at the distance of the straw dummies, he ordered the Head Warrior nearby.


    "Arrange twenty samurai, with longbows," he instructed.


    Bertade nodded and followed the order. Soon, twenty Longbow Warriors stood in line, each holding a longbow. They looked at the fire arrows in their hands with some trepidation, then carefully lit them, quickly mounted, drew, and aimed before releasing a "whoosh" of an arrow.


    Twenty fire arrows traveled different trajectories, landing dispersedly between fifty and a hundred meters. The heavier arrows had a noticeably reduced range but, within the skilled hands of the Archers, they still maintained stable precision. Then, the fire arrows one by one exploded into bursts of flames, igniting the nearby straw dummies, like fireworks blooming in the daytime. Soon, the rising smoke carried a pungent scent, spreading across the weapons testing area, like breathing from mythological creatures. In no time, the field was ablaze with rapid flames.


    Xiulote internally calculated the different ignition speeds of the fire arrows, with deviations of a few seconds¡ªapparently, the quality of the match cords was indeed inconsistent. He then ordered a long-distance shot. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Longbow Warriors fired again, this time with a high angle of elevation. This time, the horizontal motion of the fire arrows slowed, drawing an elongated arc, falling between one hundred and one hundred and fifty meters. Many of the arrows exploded mid-air, like heavenly fire falling from the sky. The accuracy of the fire arrows decreased significantly, with many missing their targets, burning far from the straw dummies.

 Chapter 295 - 156: Experiment with Primitive Gunpowder Weapons_2

    Xiulote observed for a moment and then had the Samurai shoot several times at various distances, forming a rough plan for using the Fire Arrows. The stable shooting distance of fire arrows should be within one hundred meters, with satisfactory accuracy within fifty to sixty meters. If on a shaking water surface, this distance would likely decrease further. To increase the burning power, the loading of the gunpowder bag could be further increased as long as it maintained a precise shooting distance of fifty meters.


    Xiulote nodded in approval. He clasped Talaya¡¯s hand and praised her.


    "Talaya, you did well. This kind of fire arrow can be mass-produced and be called the ¡¯Light Rocket.¡¯ Furthermore, I need you to double the gunpowder in the paper wrap and make a ¡¯Heavy Rocket¡¯ that has a range of about fifty meters, to be used as a weapon to ignite large boats. Now just finalize these two types."


    Talaya nodded joyfully and obeyed. Then, she hesitated.


    "Your Highness, the Clay Tribulus is somewhat unstable, are we also testing it today? Maybe after some more time, it could be developed more maturely..."


    Xiulote shook his head and firmly said.


    "I am leaving for the campaign soon and don¡¯t have much time to wait, let them start!"


    Soon, following the Highness¡¯s command, under the coercion of the Samurai¡¯s war clubs, a row of ten civilians spaced more than ten meters apart stood ready, trembling. They picked up the six to seven-pound Clay Tribulus with grave faces, staring at the yellowish-black spiked sphere, a symbol of death.


    Xiulote thought for a moment and had the civilians wear Cotton Armor. Then, the young man watched them nervously light the fuse of the Clay Tribulus, like counting down to their death, and then with all their might, they swung their arms to hurl the heavy Clay Tribulus.


    "Boom!..." Before one of the civilians could even throw the Clay Tribulus, the spiked sphere exploded instantly, shooting out countless fragments. The civilian was like being smashed by a giant¡¯s hammer, flying backward two steps, then spitting blood and falling to the ground, dead instantly. Given the power of the black gunpowder of that era, he was not blown to pieces.


    Xiulote turned towards the sound, feeling a chill in his heart. The civilian¡¯s face was charred, his body aflame, and on closer inspection, it was riddled with tiny, dense wounds, embedded with numerous ceramic fragments. His arms and limbs were twisted apart, like a broken and fractured doll, beneath him flowed blood like a spring, gradually steamed dry by the flames. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!..." continuous explosions sounded, like the God of Thunder roaring in the mortal world. The Longbow Warriors turned pale with fright, retreating several steps in fear, war clubs, and bow dropping silently from their hands. Many Warriors knelt in terror, praying loudly to the Chief Divine, begging the almighty Chief Divine to come and drive away the roaring Evil Demon.


    Xiulote looked around and then saw two civilians on the ground, rolling and struggling. Their Clay Tribulus was only thrown six or seven steps away but still within the effective killing range. The explosion¡¯s fragments did not penetrate their Cotton Armor but blinded one civilian and cut another one¡¯s neck. Soon, the civilian with the bleeding neck sprawled out, motionless.


    "Boom! Boom!..." Two more explosions sounded. The Clay Tribulus exploded near a straw man set up more than ten steps away. Within three steps, the straw man¡¯s Leather Armor was shattered completely by the blast. Within five steps, the straw man¡¯s Cotton Armor was damaged, embedded with many sharp fragments, and around seven steps, the Cotton Armor defended against all fragments but was shook by the blast wave.


    Xiulote counted the explosions, then frowned deeply, carefully observing as there were two duds in front of him. The young man¡¯s gaze swept over the civilians, paralyzed and wailing on the ground, to some warriors who still managed to remain calm.


    "This is a weapon bestowed by the Chief Divine, fear not! Bring two warriors, carry two layers of shields, wear two layers of Cotton Armor. Douse those two unexploded Clay Tribulus with water. Make sure to shield your head and neck with the shields!"


    After a moment, only two brave warriors from among the warriors stepped forward. Xiulote silently noted their figures. The two warriors, fully equipped, advanced cautiously with shields and water bottles towards the spiked spheres.


    Just as they were about to start the operation, another "Boom!..." A loud explosion resounded, shaking everyone¡¯s heartstrings.


    Xiulote watched solemnly, seeing one warrior knocked down by the close-range explosion. The young man quickly commandeered the rescue, bringing the fallen warrior to a nearby location.


    He then carefully observed, the warrior¡¯s double-layered shields had one side completely blasted, and the other side embedded with dense fragments, a few pieces penetrating the shield and stuck in the Cotton Armor. The wooden shield burned with flames, luckily the Cotton Armor was not ignited. The escorts checked briefly, the warrior had no wounds and no bloodstains, but his feet were twisted, and his brain concussed and dizzy, completely unable to stand, which in a battlefield meant death.


    Meanwhile, another warrior had already returned with the extinguished Clay Tribulus, tossing the spiked sphere into the prepared pool nearby.


    Xiulote smiled and praised him, asking for the warrior¡¯s name, and silently noted it in his mind. Then, the young man continued to ponder, shaking his head incessantly.


    "Out of ten Clay Tribulus, one exploded prematurely, two were duds. The remaining seven had uncertain explosion timings. The biggest problem lies in lacking a stable firing mechanism. The quality of the fuse is unstable ... Additionally, grenadiers need to be equipped with specially slow-burning match cords for ignition."


    Thinking this, Xiulote sighed. There were no enemies here, just a stable firing test site. If it were on the battlefield, such weapons would be bombs that could explode at any time, only to be given to warriors ready to die.

 Chapter 296 - 156: Experiment with Primitive Gunpowder Weapons_3

    "Grenadiers need to be tall and strong. The effective throwing distance is between ten and more than twenty meters. The distance for lethal damage against unarmored targets is within seven paces, and within five paces for Cotton Armor. If facing a shield, the explosion must occur within three paces. The sound of the explosion can greatly intimidate the enemy and severely strike at their morale,"


    Xiulote shook his head slightly; in his view, the power of these most primitive hand grenades was quite limited. However, Bertade and the many Samurais had long been filled with awe, looking at the spiked sphere as if it were a Divine Object, full of amazement. This is the power of the Heavenly Divine!


    "The preparation, ignition, and throwing of the Clay Tribulus take a long time, and to avoid enemy attacks, the throwing distance is also very short; the weapon works best against dense formations... Thus, it seems the occasion when this weapon can exert its greatest power is not in field battles, but rather in siege warfare, given to the daring Vanguard!"


    The young man pondered for a moment, and suddenly, his eyes lit up. Then he smiled, nodding, and looked toward the people who revered him as the Heavenly Divine.


    "Continue!"


    With the help of several laborers, a rudimentary Copper Hoop wooden cannon was transported to the center of the field. A mound of earth for shooting had already been built by the laborers, and the wooden cannon was secured with a wooden frame. Afterward, under the direction of the Craftsman, the laborers clumsily filled the cannon barrel with Gunpowder. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In front of his highness, the Craftsmen only filled with eight or nine jin of coarse black gunpowder, not daring to fill it completely. Then they added a dozen or so jin of pebbles into the muzzle, pulled out a fuse, and sealed the muzzle with cotton, aiming at a straw man fifty paces away.


    Xiulote nodded. The young man embraced Talaya¡¯s arm and pulled her back seventy to eighty paces. Then twenty Samurais raised their shields, creating a three-layer defensive shield formation in front. Only then did his highness order to light the fuse and fire the cannon.


    After a long series of breaths, there was only a "boom" of a loud noise, followed by a "crash" of impact.


    Xiulote strode out from behind the shield formation, only to see the wooden cannon recoil several paces backward, with all the surrounding laborers prostrate on the ground, praying in fear. Fifty paces away, a plume of smoke and dirt shot up, and the straw man in the test area had disappeared. Once the smoke cleared, the young man took a few more steps forward, only to see the scattered straw man, pebbles embedded densely into the mud, and Leather Armor torn as if it were a sieve.


    Xiulote walked from the densest center of the pebbles, judging the dispersal of the shooting ammunition. Then, he ordered the Samurais to set up a wooden frame, placing many shields at distances of fifty to one hundred meters, and continued to light the fuse and test fire.


    The repeated bombardment, accompanied by the terrifying blasts, was like the roar of a mythological wilderness beast, shaking the souls of all the Samurais. This was the weapon of the Heavenly Divine from mythology, the beast raised by the Heavenly Divine!


    Yet, in Xiulote¡¯s view, compared to a real Copper Cannon, this wooden cannon was more like a large firecracker used to scare people.


    Within one hundred meters, it could inflict certain damage on unarmored targets, and only within fifty meters could it harm those in Cotton Armor. Facing Samurais with shields and Armor, it would need to be within thirty meters to deliver sufficient force. The firing speed of the wooden cannon was extremely slow, with fixing, loading, igniting, cleaning, checking, and resetting; the Craftsmen could only fire one or two shots in a quarter hour. After firing a dozen or so shots, the Craftsmen hurriedly reported that there might be a danger of the barrel bursting. As for the accuracy of the wooden cannon, it could only maintain a general direction, and deviating by more than ten meters was the norm.


    Looking at these new Gunpowder Weapons, Xiulote was dissatisfied for a long time, and then he smiled with satisfaction.


    "It¡¯s time to give Aweit a surprise!"


    Xiulote turned his back, gazing toward the palace of the Northern Capital in the distance. Behind him were the admiring young lady, the loyal Samurais, and the people who kneeled in awe.

 Chapter 297 - One Hundred Fifty-Seven: The First Confrontation

    The wind was gentle and the sun shone brightly, not a cloud in sight, and the Lake Capital City shimmered with dazzling whiteness. A light breeze blew over Lake Texcoco, causing gentle ripples to form on the water¡¯s surface.


    To the southeast of the Great Lake, dozens of boats of various sizes formed a squadron, encircling seven or eight smaller boats. In the center of the fleet floated an especially magnificent large boat, with a vibrant Commander flag standing tall. On either side of the flag, guards waved smaller signal flags, and the fleet moved accordingly, as if directed by a guiding hand.


    Heeding the command, the sailors rowed their oars, approaching the encircled smaller boats and turning to the side. Following, the Samurai raised their longbows, mounted with fire arrows, aiming and ready to shoot.


    On the opulent large boat, Aweit and Xiulote sat cross-legged at the bow, watching the Naval Forces¡¯ exercises. Surrounded by loyal followers, the two sat close together, laughing and conversing, enjoying the rare leisure. Here and now, there were only friends and mentors, with no division between officials and subordinates.


    Aweit was dressed in comfortable Samurai attire, wearing a breathable rattan helmet, appearing relaxed and at ease. He intently observed the fire arrows in the hands of the warriors, pondering the paper balls behind the arrowheads, and asked with interest,


    "Xiulote, is this the surprise you mentioned?"


    Xiulote smiled and nodded.


    "Master, there¡¯s no need to rush. Just watch the effect of these fire arrows!"


    Aweit nodded. He raised his hand, thrust it forward vigorously, then swung it downward. The guard behind him immediately shook a red flag, then pointed it towards the small boats in front of them.


    The sailors lit the fire igniters, carefully igniting the match cord of the fire arrows. The Longbow Warriors focused, and "whoosh"¡ªthe fire arrows were shot out. In an instant, hundreds of fire arrows drew arcs across the sky, flew over fifty meters, and accurately hit the unmanned small boats. The arrows whistled through the air, accompanied by a continuous "thud, thud..." sound. Some arrows stuck in the center of the boats, many nailed on the outer side of the small boats, and even more fell into the water beside the boats.


    The fire arrows remained still for two seconds, burning quietly inside. Seeing this, Aweit smiled gently. He was about to speak to the young man when his eyes suddenly burst into dozens of dazzling bright yellow flames, and the sound of a continuous whooshing air wave filled his ears.


    Intense flames rose from inside and outside the small boats, the temperature rising rapidly. Within a few breaths, seven or eight small boats were set ablaze, as if entering the realm of the Fire God. Thick black smoke billowed, carrying with it the pungent scent of a volcano.


    Aweit was shocked, his facial expression uncontrollable for a few seconds. Afterwards, he slightly bowed his head, and then, seeing the burning fire arrows floating on the water, he expressed genuine amazement.


    "By the Chief Divine above! Xiulote, is this the gunpowder you spoke of? The flames burning in the water!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily. Seeing his teacher¡¯s shocked expression, he nodded in satisfaction.


    "Aweit, this is gunpowder, a great invention that can change the world!"


    The King¡¯s expression quickly calmed. He pondered for a moment, then nodded with a smile.


    &"Excellent! With this, the Tarasco Naval Forces can only retreat from looking. The Alliance¡¯s chance of victory in the Western expedition just increased a bit more!"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then suggested. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Master, this weapon is not unstoppable; once the enemy has seen it, they can gradually adapt. If they prepare sand for putting out fires in advance, and fit shields along the sides of their boats, the power of the fire arrows would greatly diminish. Thus, these fire arrows must be kept in reserve and not released, until a decisive battle between the main forces of the Naval Forces!"


    Hearing this, Aweit smiled again. He approvingly patted his student¡¯s shoulder.


    "Xiulote, you are right! The Tarasco Naval Forces are concentrated in the Lerma River basin; I entrust the main force of the Alliance¡¯s Naval Forces to your Northern Route Army¡ªyou must achieve a great victory!"


    Xiulote¡¯s face became serious, and he bowed respectfully.


    "Rest assured, Master!"


    "Good! Let¡¯s go see the other weapons you mentioned."


    The command flag turned, and the fleet then steered southward, heading towards Heavenly Fire Island.


    Following the large boat, Gillim, dressed in a subdued brown robe, watched the still burning wooden ship. His expression was solemn, his heart heavy with a sigh.


    Seeing the power of the fire arrows, he was temporarily overwhelmed, his thoughts running like electricity. As clever as he was, he instantly assessed the advantages of the Northern Route Army¡¯s Western expedition, and the prestige the Prince might build... Such significant military affairs, yet he could not let factional strife cause damage.


    What worried the Intelligence Officer even more was the King¡¯s trusting attitude towards Xiulote.


    "Since the New Year¡¯s rendezvous, the Princess has been enchanted with the Prince, often mentioning him. Influenced by the Princess, the King has become close again, letting down his guard... and reconsidering his plans to grant fiefdoms... The Prince¡¯s power is growing stronger!"


    While pondering, the traveling large boat suddenly shook and slowly stopped. Immediately, Gillim stood solemnly, following the King and the Samurai, ascending the smoke-enshrouded Heavenly Fire Island.


    Xiulote was spirited and confident. He confidently introduced his teacher to the scenes of saltpeter boiling spread across Heavenly Fire Island, with Esko bowing in attendance behind them.


    Aweit looked around, overlooking the busy team of salt workers, gazing at the clear saltpeter pools and mounds, his eyes twinkling with excitement. He followed the young man¡¯s steps to the island¡¯s center, to the experimental field for gunpowder weapons.


    Soon, the sounds of "Boom! Boom! Boom!..." explosions rang out again. This time, the Clay Tribulus fuses were deliberately lengthened to avoid danger during throwing. Watching the explosions of the Clay Tribulus, Aweit¡¯s expression turned grave, while the Royal Guard was visibly agitated.


    And as the terrifying roar of wooden cannons sounded, Aweit opened his mouth wide, uttering an incredulous whisper.


    "Oh Mighty Heavenly Divine... Is this a weapon of this world? It is so terrifying!"

 Chapter 298 - One Hundred Fifty-Seven: The First Confrontation_2

    Behind the King, the samurai of the escort trembled in fear as they prostrated themselves on the ground, praying loudly to the mythical monster they revered in their hearts. Off to the side, even the usually resolute Intelligence Officer thudded to his knees. His eyes were filled with bewilderment, for the first time doubting his own beliefs, suddenly in awe of His Highness¡¯s origins.


    Xiulote smiled slightly. These epoch-making weapons were about to be mass-produced, naturally they could not be concealed. Therefore, he took the initiative to show them to Aweit, also hoping to obtain more craftsmen from the Alliance to increase the production of gunpowder weapons.


    After a long while, Aweit regained some composure. He pondered for a good while, pacing back and forth. Then, the King placed his hands on His Highness¡¯s shoulders, the teacher gazing at the wondrous student, and spoke slowly with a solemn expression.


    "Xiulote, my student, you were born extraordinary! This is a myth you created by yourself; I should have let you control everything. However, these weapons are indeed too astonishing... I will send a contingent of samurai and craftsmen to assist in the management and manufacturing, then completely seal this place off as the highest secret of the Alliance... My child, rest assured, you are still in charge here!"


    Xiulote had anticipated this. Hearing this, he nodded earnestly, bowing on one knee, and responded sincerely.


    "I abide by your will, my King! This place is not mine; it belongs to the Alliance!"


    A glint of relief appeared in Aweit¡¯s eyes. He stepped forward, lifted the youngster, and then, the King raised His Highness¡¯s hand high, declaring solemnly in front of everyone.


    "This place belongs to the Alliance, and the Alliance belongs to you and me!"


    Hearing the King¡¯s declaration, Gillim¡¯s eyes fiercely constricted. The Intelligence Officer thought rapidly, distressed by the lack of information, temporarily unable to devise any plan. Then, a glint flashed in his eyes as he silently stepped back a few paces, blending naturally into the shadows of the people and the buildings, disappearing from sight.


    In the center of the escort, Aweit warmly pulled Xiulote aside, sitting cross-legged, discussing the tactics of gunpowder weapons.


    "Xiulote, this Clay Tribulus takes too long to explode. If the enemy is prepared, they can kick it away, or even throw it back. And if the enemy knows beforehand, they might send skirmishers to charge and attack the militiamen throwing it."


    Aweit thought about how to respond, assuming he faced such a weapon.


    "Yes, teacher. The burning time is determined by the fuse, and it is currently very unstable. Shortening the fuse might cause premature explosion. Its use is greatly limited in field battles; this weapon is more suited for siege battles where we have the advantage, bombarding densely defended enemies."


    Xiulote was amazed at Aweit¡¯s adaptability, admiring him inwardly.


    "Since that is so, it¡¯s better to take the risk of shortening it than to reduce the lethal effects," Aweit decided coldly.


    "Does the power of this gunpowder correlate strictly with the amount used?"


    Xiulote nodded slightly.


    "One is the amount and purity of the black gunpowder, and the other is the airtightness of the ignition environment. The more the amount, the higher the purity, the better the airtightness, the better the explosive effect. In a sealed underground space, thousands of pounds of black gunpowder enclosed in wooden boxes ignited can completely demolish the city wall above, thereby breaking through gaps of several meters or even dozens of meters, allowing the samurai to directly breach the city!"


    At these words, a gleam appeared in Aweit¡¯s eyes. He believed in Xiulote¡¯s judgment and looked joyfully at his student.


    "You mean..."


    "Yes, teacher."


    The two exchanged glances, bursting into laughter.


    After laughing for a moment, Xiulote continued excitedly.


    "Aweit, we could also load a large canoe with a large amount of gunpowder, sail towards the enemy¡¯s fleet, then ignite it to turn into a fire ship, setting the enemy¡¯s large ships on fire!"


    Aweit chuckled softly, shaking his head.


    "Xiulote, the large boat is already the biggest ship, and there are just over three hundred such ships in the entire Alliance combined. The Maya¡¯s paddle sailboats are just a bit bigger; there¡¯s nothing worth using a large boat to burn!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote laughed without speaking. He secretly resolved that this was a gift prepared for the explorers! S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aweit looked around. His gaze passed over the various officials standing in attendance, landing on a huge wooden cannon, and he asked loudly.


    "Xiulote, this wooden cannon has an impressive presence, capable of emitting a thunderous roar; have you given it a name?"


    Xiulote faltered slightly, answering plainly.


    "It is made of pine wood, so it¡¯s called the Pine Cannon. If it were made of elm, it would be called the Elm Cannon."


    Hearing this, Aweit laughed. He gently shook his head, affectionately tousling his student¡¯s hair.


    "Since it can emit a thunderous noise, why not call it the Thunder God Tlaloc Cannon! The word ¡¯cannon¡¯ you created is quite interesting, and the pronunciation is short and powerful."


    Xiulote thought for a moment. The title of Thunder God seemed too exaggerated for a wooden cannon. He then suggested.


    "The Chief Divine ascends to the highest, all other divinities subordinate. Perhaps it¡¯s better to remove the title of Thunder God, and simplify the divine name, calling it just Trak Cannon!"


    Aweit nodded in agreement, and the two continued to comfortably decide the future of the Alliance.


    Unbeknownst to when, Gillim reappeared. His gaze turned towards Talaya standing behind Xiulote, smiling meaningfully.


    As the sun gradually sloped westward, Aweit had other matters and could not stay much longer. He smiled and said.


    "Xiulote, summon the person in charge of researching these weapons and the craftsmen forward; I want to properly reward them, bestowing upon them enviable honors!"


    Xiulote nodded and had Talaya and the craftsmen step forward together.


    Aweit¡¯s gaze swept over, pausing briefly when he saw the young pottery girl. At that moment, a guard, acting under orders, came to the King, saluted, and then whispered in his ear. The King¡¯s gaze suddenly turned icy. He coldly looked at Talaya, a flash of murderous intent flickering momentarily.

 Chapter 299 - One Hundred Fifty-Seven: The First Confrontation_3

    Xiulote was closely watching Aweit. He was keenly aware of his mentor¡¯s mood swings, and he suddenly felt a chill. The young man pondered for a moment before stepping forward and standing beside Aweit.


    The King announced the awards with a calm expression, and the craftsmen thanked him on their knees one by one before withdrawing, until the last one, a potter girl.


    "Talaya, you have made contributions to the study of gunpowder! I will award you with the position of a military nobility. The Capital City¡¯s Center for Craftsmanship lacks a gunpowder craftsman like you, so I hereby appoint you as the Director of Gunpowder for the Center, in charge of managing the distribution of the army¡¯s gunpowder! This is a heavy military responsibility, subject to military law. You must be careful and not dally!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote sensed trouble. He glanced at Talaya¡¯s suddenly pale face, clenched his teeth and took a step forward.


    "Respected King, Talaya is one of my most capable subordinates, and her work here is indispensable..."


    Aweit narrowed his eyes. He looked at the young man who had stepped out of line, his gaze growing colder.


    "Since this is the case, I won¡¯t forcibly conscript your capable subordinate. However, a contribution must be rewarded!"


    Then, the King gazed at Talaya, his solemn stare like a heavy mountain pressing upon the young girl¡¯s shoulders.


    "Talaya, you come from commoner origins, and at sixteen, you are of age to marry. There are several handsome and unmarried young men of the Royal Nobility in my family. I will allow you to choose one to be your husband, to take as your lawful wife. How about that!"


    Hearing the King¡¯s words, Talaya felt as if she had been struck. She staggered back two steps, her eyes already brimming with crystal-clear despair.


    Xiulote bowed his head slightly, sighing in his heart. He couldn¡¯t simply abandon Talaya and let her face the King¡¯s wrath alone; at this moment, the only option was to step forward... When the young man opened his eyes again, he had made his decision. He took two firm steps, his tall figure positioning itself in front of the helpless girl, and he replied in a low, resolute voice.


    "Respected King, Talaya is my personal maid. Her marriage should be decided by me."


    Looking at the student he valued before him, a surge of fury exploded within Aweit. He took a step forward, glaring into the young man¡¯s eyes, and suddenly shouted in anger.


    "Xiulote, step aside! How dare you!"


    Xiulote did not move. He took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and then sincerely looked towards the King.


    "Aweit, trust me. Alisa is the person I love most, the tender softness I cherish most in my heart. I will take good care of her and ensure she never suffers the slightest grievance. I swear by the spirit of my ancestors! And as for Talaya... I simply do not wish for her to marry someone else."


    At Xiulote¡¯s promise, Aweit faltered. He observed the young man carefully, looking at his maturing contours, his calm expression, his sincere eyes, until the anger on his face gradually subsided and his expression subtly changed.


    Not far off, Gillim gave a soft sigh, followed by a smile.


    After a prolonged silence, Aweit extended his hand, suspending it in the air before him.


    Seeing this familiar gesture, Xiulote immediately knelt on one knee and bowed his head to let the King grasp his hair.


    Aweit paused for quite a while before he touched Xiulote¡¯s head, speaking word by word.


    "Xiulote, my son-in-law, remember your promise!"


    With that, the King turned and left without another word.


    Xiulote remained in his kneeling position. He raised his head to watch the magnificent boat slowly move away, the King¡¯s flag slowly disappearing out of sight, and he let out a deep sigh.


    Talaya could no longer hold back her tears. She wept with a mix of worry and joy, silently kneeling to the ground, clutching tightly at the Prince¡¯s broad back.


    From a distance, Bertade released the longbow he had been clutching tightly, allowing it to fall to the ground, covered in dust. The wearied warrior tapped his forehead with his hand, showing a hint of frustration, and muttered to his predecessor monarch.


    A breeze blew through, carrying the barely audible voice of the Head Warrior.


    "The sky cannot have two suns... The sun belongs to the commoners in the fields and workshops... Only those of noble birth from among the commoners belong to the commoners... Witnessed by the Predecessor Monarch, I have no selfish desires..."


    This confrontation between the King and the Prince, subtle as it was in the breeze, became intangible. As the long wind passed, it seemed as though nothing had changed, leaving only the drifting sound of the wind.


    Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 300 - One Hundred and Fifty-Eight: The Vanguard of the Northern Route Army

    Blue smoke rose from the pot where saltpeter boiled, reaching into the ancient skies. As the wind passed, waves rippled across the lake of Texcoco, like the changing tides of a heart¡¯s lake. In an instant, the tide rose, and just as quickly, it fell, but what remained unchanged were the treasures at the bottom of the lake.


    Xiulote extricated himself from Talaya¡¯s embrace and slowly stood up. Mere quarters before, a strong impulse had driven him to step forward, facing the stern Aweit and ensuring the safety of the person in charge of gunpowder. But now, after the conflict, when he recalled the promises of starry nights and considered the interference of desire, his heart became clear through the baptism of worldly affairs.


    He used his hand to prevent the potter girl who wanted to rely on him and gently shook his head.


    "Talaya, you have great talent. Continue your research on gunpowder," sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After speaking, Xiulote gave Talaya, who was standing there stupefied, a deep look and then turned to leave alone, his strides resolute.


    Bertade sighed. The Head Warrior knew the young man too well and understood that he had made a decision. With no other choice but to follow, he shook his head and caught up.


    The sun set suddenly, and the Lake Capital City alternated between light and dark. In the High Priest¡¯s Mansion, an eternal bonfire burned, an everlasting light in the eyes of the youth.


    "Xiulote, my child. Just an ordinary woman, even if she is beautiful, it¡¯s just as well if she¡¯s gone. Why oppose the King for her?"


    The High Priest frowned slightly, looking at his grandson to whom he had devoted so much, his words carrying an admonishment.


    Xiulote shook his head calmly.


    "She is a subordinate I value, an important research craftsman. I cannot let her be taken away. I am in charge of the Divine Revelation Place, Heavenly Fire Island, and the new barracks. My followers, priests, craftsmen, and the new army... Grandfather, I am no longer a child dependent on others..."


    "Now, I am a leader, the mainstay of tens of thousands, with thousands of subjects willing to die for me. These people rely on me, and I must protect them. Even Aweit cannot treat my important managers as he pleases and cause our group to lose cohesion. You once told me that eagles must dominate the skies, jaguars must dominate the land, and kings must dominate the people."


    Upon hearing such words, the High Priest let out a hearty laugh. He patted Xiulote¡¯s shoulder, refraining from patting the young man¡¯s head any longer.


    "My fledgling eagle has grown up, ready to rule the forest by himself and soar above all under the heavens."


    Then, the High Priest gazed at his most outstanding descendant, instructing him with care.


    "My child, continue to hone your ambition. In the core of power, the strong always cooperate and confront each other, confront and compromise. The Alliance only recognizes the strong, and the rules are only there to restrain the commoners. You must be strong enough to inherit everything I have now, to reach even higher summits.


    Remember, in the jungles of Mexica, supreme power never naturally falls into one¡¯s hands as fruit does; it is always accompanied by fierce contention. As the old saying goes, only that which can be forcibly taken can be peacefully handed over... Of course, you need to pay attention to strategy..."


    The night grew deep, and the bonfire gradually went out. Xiulote lay in bed, holding the little green snake in his arms, feeling its softness and coldness, contemplating obedience and wildness, and thus fell into a deep sleep.


    The next day, Xiulote got up early for training, as usual. After breakfast, he carried a wooden box on his back and headed to Montezuma Palace.


    The advance force of the northern road was about to set out, and the armies began to draw troops. Yesterday, his grandfather had agreed to a thousand Temple Guards, to prioritize familiarity with crossbows, and to send a Priesthood along with the army. Now, he intended to request his directly subordinate samurai from the King.


    When he saw Aweit again, the King¡¯s expression was calm and majestic, and in his hands, he held open a book of "Noble Law."


    "Xiulote, go and talk to Alisa first, she has been longing for you for a while,"


    Xiulote nodded and headed for the back garden.


    Alisa was still dressed in white. Seeing the young man, she approached joyfully and embraced him gently.


    Xiulote fell silent for a moment, then opened the wooden box behind him. He took out the still-slumbering Aweiloztli sculpture and handed it to Alisa¡¯s embrace.


    "I will soon be setting out. Little Aviloztli will keep you company."


    Alisa held the little golden eagle, tenderly stroking its soft little head.


    The Aweiloztli opened its eyes, glanced at the girl in white with confusion, and made a puzzled "chirp?" Then, recognizing a kind person, it let out short and joyful "yips" and began to nuzzle with its neck.


    Xiulote sat silently, not speaking.


    Alisa blinked her bright eyes and spoke.


    "Xiulote, I¡¯m making fast progress with my herbal studies. Thank you for the Chief Priest¡¯s heritage. Soon, I¡¯ll be able to prepare a drink that will cheer you up."


    Xiulote nodded, listening quietly.


    "These two days, you and father both seem a bit down!"


    Xiulote raised his head, considering the girl¡¯s innocent expression, then lowered his head again without a word.


    "I can feel your moods. Father is depressed with anger. Yesterday, he beat one of his trusted guards and then drove Uncle Gillim out of the palace, forbidding him to come back for several days."


    Xiulote raised his head again, surprised. Why would Aweit punish Gillim?


    "Gillim? Why is that?"


    "Hmm, it seems Uncle Gillim made a serious mistake, and father felt offended, so he was very angry."


    "I see... Then, in Alisa¡¯s eyes, what kind of person is Gillim?"


    "Uncle Gillim is always serious. He never cares about himself but looks after everyone, no matter how small the issue. He¡¯s especially concerned about his younger brother. Last month when his brother fell ill, he traveled far to the southern city-state, bringing back several renowned witch doctors, and came back much thinner. Thankfully, his brother soon recovered."

 Chapter 301 - One Hundred and Fifty-Eight: The Vanguard of the Northern Route Army_2

    Xiulote pondered for a moment, his expression growing solemn. Alisa suddenly grasped the young man¡¯s hand.


    "Xiulote, um, I wanted to tell you that my uncle is very kind to everyone here but harbors animosity solely towards you. You need to be careful," she said.


    Xiulote, touched by the girl¡¯s concerned gaze, silently lowered his head.


    "I can feel your emotions. Xiulote, you are downcast with a hint of guilt, always reluctant to meet my eyes. Why is that?"


    Xiulote found himself speechless. He sat beside Alisa, watching a small golden eagle flutter its wings to take off, and breathed in the floral scent from the girl, which purified his heart. After a long while, he softly said,


    "Alisa, I¡¯m fine. I must go now."


    Alisa tilted her head, examining Xiulote for a moment, then pulled out a clumsily made cotton sachet and placed it in the young man¡¯s hand.


    "Xiulote, this is a sachet I sewed; I¡¯ve put nice-smelling herb pods and invigorating peppermint inside. Um, you might find it useful when you go on campaign," she said.


    Xiulote received the sachet, examined the crooked stitches on it, and then held the girl¡¯s hand to look at her fingers. Standing in silence for a moment, he gave Alisa a hug, then turned and quickly walked away.


    Witnessing this, Aweit descended from the second-floor window. He sat cross-legged in the great hall, picking up the newly printed book again, his expression calm.


    Xiulote entered the great hall and indeed did not see the Intelligence Officer. Following the King¡¯s gesture, he seated himself cross-legged opposite him.


    "Respected King, the vanguard is set to depart imminently. I need more Longbow Warriors for the Naval Forces¡¯ campaign," he said. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aweit nodded slightly.


    "Xiulote, Longbow Warriors require foundational archery skills. Out of all warriors in the Lake Region, after selection, only just over five thousand qualified, and all have been conscripted. I will give you two thousand Longbow Warriors, each equipped with two bows. Cherish these elites when you use them!"


    Xiulote bowed deeply in gratitude.


    "I shall obey your will," he declared.


    Aweit pondered for a moment before issuing his orders again, slowly.


    "I will assign an eight-thousand man group to the Northern Route Army. Apart from the two thousand Longbows, following your suggestion, three thousand Royal Warriors will be handed over to Balda to join the vanguard immediately. The remaining three thousand warriors should be mobilized by October at the latest and will be under the command of the esteemed noble Tepopolo from the Battle Group, joining the main force of the Northern Route Army. You will control the Northern Route Army, and for any additional forces you require, you will need to negotiate and levy from the city-states of the Northern Land yourself."


    Xiulote nodded respectfully, recognizing this was his duty. When the Alliance¡¯s core issued the call to war, each city-state had the autonomy to decide the scale of their response and could not be directly conscripted.


    Afterward, the young man recalled the geography along both banks of the Lerma River and made his request aloud.


    "Respected King, I need a contingent of elite nobility troops. Jaguar Warriors can serve as the elite scouts of the army, assisting in coordination between the units. Eagle Warriors will act as the sturdy backbone within the battle formations, unifying the warriors from various units," he stated.


    Aweit took a long time to consider before finally speaking.


    "I will grant you an additional five hundred Jaguar Warrior Brigade. The army cannot march without eyes and ears. However, I cannot give you the backbone Eagle Warrior Battalion, as they are to be the core of the Southern Route¡¯s hundred-thousand-strong army. Regarding these nobility of the Alliance, you must be exceedingly cautious and avoid substantial casualties!"


    Xiulote was aware of the influence of these samurai nobles and believed in the combat effectiveness of these elite battle groups. He nodded respectfully in obedience.


    In Aztec culture, the eagle is a symbol of the sun; Eagle Warrior Battalion is the guard of the Sun God, selected from the true nobility class. They are only to be used in the most critical moments, their status equivalent to the Divine Feather Force of the Celestial Empire, their formations strict, inclined to defense, not to be easily compromised. The Jaguar Warrior Brigade is the guard of the Rain Divine, open to the lower class of warriors for greater expendability.


    Aweit watched the young man before him and ordered with an authoritative, deep voice.


    "Xiulote, my student, the direct army of the royal family is about to deploy. The Alliance will advance on two fronts, north and south, threatening and pressuring the Tarasco people to mobilize during the spring plowing. I entrust the Northern Route Army to you, and I have high expectations for you; do not let me down!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote prostrated himself in deep respect, loudly affirming his commitment. He took the cold cocoa handed to him by the maid, drank it in a gulp, allowing the bitter, sweet, and spicy taste to linger in his mouth, letting the bright red cocoa drip from the corners of his lips. Then, he took a deep bow and bid farewell.


    The remaining days of April were spent organizing the army and gathering food and supplies. Xiulote set up a large camp at the source of the Lerma River, to the west of the Capital City. A thousand trusted aide camp bearing longbows took their position first. This was followed by a thousand Temple Guards and a group of over a hundred Priests. Finally, two thousand royal. Longbow Warriors, three thousand Club and Shield Warriors, and a brigade of five hundred Jaguar Nobility joined them.


    In the midst of organizing the army, Xiulote went again to the Divine Revelation Place and brought back two hundred stirrup crossbows, entrusting them to his trusted Temple Guards. The stirrup crossbow did not require high expertise in archery, but still needed a certain foundation. Then, without going in person, he had someone head to Heavenly Fire Island to pick up urgently made ten thousand fire arrows and several hundred clay tribulus, enough for the consumption of a great battle.


    With the settlement of additional craftsmen and warriors, Heavenly Fire Island had become a large-scale arsenal, where the craftsmen were busy day and night. Of course, the production of gunpowder weapons needed time, just as the raw materials of gunpowder required accumulation; this batch of weapons was all that was in stock.


    As April came to an end, the air grew increasingly humid. When the first swathe of clouds from the East assaulted the sky, bringing the moisture from the vast sea, the rainy season was upon them.


    Xiulote went out with his escort from the great camp, visiting the nearby villages for inspection, witnessing the vibrant vitality and rejuvenation.


    The arrival of the rainy season was always accompanied by the busy work of spring plowing. On the lands of the Alliance, tens of thousands of farmers began their arduous labor. They burnt the dense forests and wild grasses of the fields, dug into the earth with stone tools, sowed the seeds of maize, nurturing the hopes of the year¡¯s harvest.


    The priests of the Alliance villages erected altars. They no longer used the emblems and rituals of the Maize Divine, instead adopting the Hummingbird and Sun, symbols of the Chief Divine.


    "The Chief Divine commands the sun, shining upon the earth. He has eaten the Maize Divine, the Feathered Serpent, and from now on, He governs the harvest of the world!"


    Facing the apprehensive villagers, the priests from the capital city explained this way. They lit the Sacred Fire, offering various grains, praying for the descent and grace of the Chief Divine. Everything was the same as in previous years, save for the change in divinity, fashioning an all-powerful supreme being.


    The farmers remained anxious. They would plead quietly with the priests, conducting private rituals for the Maize Divine, even making requests to Xiulote dressed in priestly garments. The young priest shook his head in refusal, watching the anxious farmers with a calm gaze.


    "This is an era of myths and legends. Only when the new year¡¯s harvest proceeds normally will the stubborn farmers begin to accept the Chief Divine. Only after several years of sustained bountiful harvests will the farmers be completely convinced. And once the most traditional farmers have accepted the Chief Divine, the new monotheistic belief will truly take root in this fertile land."


    Facing the vast fields, Xiulote thought to himself. Then, he looked toward the eastern horizon where clouds carrying wind, thunder, and torrential rain were gradually moving westward. The young man felt the moist easterly wind and nodded slowly.


    Two days later, a vast fleet arrived continuously. Three hundred large boats accompanied by thousands of smaller ones, loaded with supplies for the Northern Route Army, docked at the riverside camp. Xiulote, along with seven thousand elite warriors, boarded the impressive fleet and officially proclaimed the western expedition!


    The Lerma River spanned thousands of miles to the west, its torrential waters carrying the powerful fleet. The Mexica army moved westward, carrying the resolve of warriors to conquer, the glory of priestly spirits, and the desire for the King¡¯s independence, towards the lands of the Tarasco people.


    Days later, Xiulote met with the representatives of the Great Nobility in the western City-States. Everyone indulged in a lavish banquet, drinking merrily together. Afterward, he met privately with nobles who had already agreed to terms, discussing the camaraderie of his grandfather and the promises of the future, securing the support of the City-States. An additional three thousand City-State Warriors joined the vanguard of the western campaign.


    The army set off again, with the fleet of the western expedition crossing the border of the western City-States. On the most luxurious boat, Xiulote gazed along the banks of the great river, watching the waters rush by and the scenery gradually come into view. His gaze swept across the northern coast¡¯s Otomi people¡¯s river-adjacent forests and wilderness, over the southern coast¡¯s faintly described hills and villages of the Tarasco people, until after two weeks, he saw the beginning point once more.


    By the Lerma River, the sturdy wooden fort stood as before, the old battlefield now covered in fresh grass.

 Chapter 302 - 159: Foothold

    The fierce wind blew hard, fluttering the large yellow flag. The great river roared, reflecting the beast-shaped helmet. Xiulote, adorned in brightly patterned Leather Armor and wearing a terrifying Beast Helmet, carried a commanding flag that stood three meters tall behind him. Thousands of dazzling Feathers swayed on the canopy of the flag, boldly proclaiming the position of the Supreme Commander.


    Surrounded by many, Xiulote stood majestically at the prow of the boat, scanning his surroundings like a tiger. The command flag was both tall and heavy, and he struggled against the strong winds to keep his stance stable. With the flag of the Commander on his back, all distractions were dispelled, leaving only the strong will and ruthless resolve of the Supreme Commander.


    On the southern bank of the river, urgent plumes of black smoke rose continuously, accompanied by Messengers who ran to spread the news of the Mexica troops¡¯ arrival in all directions. The Mexica fleet, moving smoothly with the wind and current, far outpaced the speed of the Tarasco messengers. Wherever Xiulote looked, farmers in Akanbaro territory on the southern bank still tilled the hills. They bowed their heads to clear the fields and sow seeds, then raising their heads in astonishment and shock at the sight of the imposing fleet on the river.


    In the mountains, the green smoke from burning weeds and trees rose as well, mixing with the urgent black smoke to form mysterious patterns in the sky. Under the envelopment of these patterns further south, there lay a series of stone fortresses of the Tarasco and many wooden camps. The fortresses and camps echoed each other, forming a complete defensive line.


    "The northern coast is far from the Alliance, and the Tarasco people are busy with spring plowing. Their military preparations are not sufficient. There will likely be a few days for the vanguard to establish a foothold."


    Xiulote nodded, deep in thought.


    His initial plan had been to go to Xilotepec to meet with the northern Commander Osellor to discuss borrowing Otomi Warriors and recruiting Chichimeca Canine Descendants. But the Messenger had reported back that General Osellor had just returned from procuring provisions in Vastec and had hurriedly marched to the northern frontier after appointing the overseers of spring plowing. He had already deployed troops to sweep the Chichimeca Canine Descendants, and he would be gone for at least two months.


    Since a meeting was momentarily impossible, Xiulote sent Envoys to discuss the recruitment of the Canine Descendants, then led the army directly west. Whether General Osellor was deliberately avoiding them or not, as long as the Northern Route Army gained sufficient strategic advantage, the attitudes of the various Lords would change.


    Xiulote looked towards the north, his gaze lingering on the long grass along the riverbank where vague mounds protruded. This area was the battlefield of the Lerma River battle; beyond it, one or two hundred li to the north through the mountain forests, lay the exceptionally strong Otapan Mountain City. And several tens of li to the west was the river mouth leading to Cuitzeo Lake and the fort controlling this critical passage.


    Xiulote cast his gaze towards the mountains, where the Wooden Fort was clearly visible. The fort, supervised by Aweit and built under his personal direction, was thoroughly familiar in layout and arrangement¡ªchosen as the first foothold. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The flag of the Tarasco Kingdom, marked with symbols of the sun, earth, and moon, flew above the Wooden Fort. Outside, Craftsmen and laborers could be faintly seen hastily retreating, with bricks, stones, and wood piled up like mountains. Clearly, the Tarasco people were fortifying the area.


    "Speed is of the essence in war¡ªwe must secure a stable stronghold before the Tarasco Naval Forces gather."


    Xiulote made his decision. He loudly ordered, and the mighty fleet steered towards the northern bank. The canoes, which drew very little water, could approach the riverbank closely. Thousands of Warriors leaped directly onto the riverbank, carrying Longbows and War Clubs, surging violently towards the shore.


    Soon, the gates of the nearby Wooden Fort opened again, and a small squad of twenty Tarasco Warriors rushed out. They came to a nearby mound, cautiously stopping about fifty meters away from the landing army. Then, they waved their Copper Spears and shields, shouting something loudly at the Mexica Supreme Commander¡¯s flag.


    Aboard the large boat, Xiulote listened intently. The language of the Tarasco people was only partially similar to that of the Mexica. He vaguely heard "Leave!... God bless... Prepetcha!... Powerful... War!"


    The Young Commander smiled slightly. He quietly gave an order, and the Commander¡¯s flag was waved forward. Hundreds of landing Mexica Warriors, holding War Clubs, ferociously charged towards the mound. The Tarasco Warriors, after a brief observation, immediately turned and ran towards the mountain camp.


    Bertade spoke softly.


    "Your Highness, shall we shoot?"


    Xiulote shook his head.


    "No hurry just yet."


    As he spoke, a Jaguar Warrior ran at the forefront of the chase. While running bent over, he took a Javelin from his back and raised it high. Then, he suddenly accelerated and with all his might, threw it. A sharp Javelin soared out, making a "whizzing" sound as it aimed for a Tarasco Warrior some fifteen meters away.


    Hitting a swiftly moving target was immensely challenging; the Javelin grazed the leather hat of the rearmost young Warrior before thudding into the ground. The Warrior, dazed, instinctively dodged the imagined blow from behind. His steps faltered, and then he fell to the ground with a splash. As he struggled to stand, a sudden pain hit his back, followed by a hard strike to his head. Dizzy, a pair of strong hands then seized his neck.


    After subduing the Tarasco Warrior with two clubs, the Jaguar Warrior laughed heartily. He kneeled on the captive¡¯s back and squeezed the neck hard; the other struggled like a dehydrated fish, flapping momentarily before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed. The Jaguar Warrior then let go, quickly stripped the captive of his weapons and Cotton Armor, ensuring he was no threat. He then took out a rope he carried and tightly tied the prisoner¡¯s hands, leaving him breathing heavily. Once proficiently bound, he slapped the captive awake, pointed towards the riverbank, and the other nodded in terrified agreement.

 Chapter 303 - 159: Foothold_2

    The robust Jaguar Warrior cracked a satisfied smile and continued to drag the spoil towards the command flag.


    The pursuing Mexica warriors reached the base of the wooden fort, facing a prepared barrage of stones and arrows. Standing atop the three-meter-high fort walls, the Tarasco warriors vigorously shot at the Mexica warriors. Despite the hundred-step distance, their Tlaxcalan bows couldn¡¯t penetrate the cotton armor of the Mexica warriors. The Mexica warriors deliberately slowed their pace, waiting for the gates to open to seize the opportunity to storm through.


    The fleeing Tarasco squad avoided the main gate, hugging the fort walls under the protection of archers and stone-throwing militia, circling to the back until they reached a partially opened side gate, where they quickly retreated into the camp. The Mexica warriors, wary of shooting from the walls, could not catch up and had to retreat sullenly.


    After a few quarters, three warrior camps successively landed. Xiulote waved the command flag again, and the three camps neatly deployed along the riverbank, getting ready for battle. Scouts dispersed in all directions, exploring the surrounding mountains and forests. The army¡¯s landing was systematic until six warrior camps had landed. Xiulote then moved the large flag and led the guards to land on the North Coast. The naval forces left behind four thousand warriors and several thousand sailors on standby.


    The first batch of scouts returned, reporting no sign of ambush within several miles. The vanguard Jaguar Warriors also reported the intelligence they had just gathered from interrogation.


    "According to the captured, spring plowing has begun, and there is a shortage of manpower. The nearby five wooden fort camps each have two hundred Tarasco warriors, a thousand militia, and nearly a thousand civilians aiding in construction."


    Xiulote nodded slightly. He waved the command flag again, and the sound of the attack drums began. The six warrior camps spread out according to the direction indicated by the flag, surrounding three sides of the wooden fort. The middle army comprised the Chief of the Personal Guards¡¯ Longbow Camp, Temple Guards, and the Jaguar Warrior Brigade, with a Longbow Warrior Camp and a club and shield warrior camp on each flank.


    Soon, all camps were in position. Xiulote observed the three-meter-high fort walls, the outer layer of wooden fences, and parts of the brick-clad walls, pondering quietly. He ordered the craftsmen to build wooden ladders while secretly summoning Bertade to give orders quietly. The Head Warrior bowed and took hundreds of Longbow Warriors away.


    Soon, the captured Tarascans, guarded by two shield-bearing Mexica warriors, tremblingly approached the camp, loudly calling for surrender in the Tarasco dialect.


    "...Thirty thousand Mexica warriors have arrived... Tarasco regiments too late to rescue... Southern villages burned down... Surrender quickly... Spare your lives... Militia return to their homes..."


    As the call for surrender was announced, there was a flurry of disturbed discussions among the people atop the fort walls. The Tarasco warriors and militia, seeing the endless Mexica warriors below the wooden fort and the large flotilla by the Lerma River, no longer doubted the size of the invading army. Given the demanding wartime during the season of spring plowing and the scale of the war, the isolated northern camps had no chance of survival.


    While morale among the defending army was faltering, a warrior carrying the camp flag mounted the fort walls. He surveyed the size of the enemy forces, his face suddenly taking on a resigned expression. Then, he loudly reprimanded, waving a copper spear and seemingly making some promise, calming the turmoil on the walls.


    Bertade confirmed the identity and suddenly gestured. A hundred and twenty paces away, hundreds of Longbow Warriors simultaneously notched arrows, and then a whistling "swoosh, swoosh, swoosh..." followed as continuous arrows tore through the air.


    The arrow barrage arrived in an instant; the leader carrying the flag, unable to dodge, showed a look of extreme pain. His movements instantly froze, and then he staggered and collapsed sideways, blood gushing like a fountain, his body riddled with arrows. The surrounding personal guards also dramatically fell, as warriors and militia inside the camp panicked. They successively dropped to the ground, hiding from the deadly arrows shot from such a distant range.


    Xiulote continued to wave the flag, signaling precise, free-aim shooting. The right-wing Longbow Warrior Camp promptly stepped forward and spread out. These elite longbow warriors shot continuously, gradually moving to within sixty steps, then aimed at the archers and militia on the city head, shooting them with pinpoint accuracy.


    The warriors and militia on the city head tried to shoot back with stones and arrows, but couldn¡¯t penetrate the Longbow Warriors¡¯ cotton armor and rattan helmets. Bertade personally notched and aimed an arrow, pausing slightly, then raised his hand to release it. A Tarasco warrior covering his throat dropped his single bow and tumbled from the fort walls. The Head Warrior didn¡¯t pause, shooting another defending warrior.


    The exchange of fire continued for several quarters until it became a one-sided slaughter. Only about a dozen Mexica warriors were injured; already a hundred from the camp were dead. Under the long-range advantage of the Longbow Warriors, the over a thousand defenders crouching on the fort walls could no longer retaliate, their morale plummeting rapidly.


    Xiolote calmly watched the situation unfold. He waited another three or four quarters until more than ten simple three-meter wooden ladders were ready. He then waved the battle flag again, ordering the left-wing club and shield warriors to get ready. The quick construction of these ladders was thanks to the wood piled outside the wooden fort.


    Then, the Longbow Warriors moved within thirty steps, intermittently aiming and firing arrows, suppressing those on the fort walls. After a while, the deep sound of the battle drums started, accompanied by a flag pointing forward. Five hundred Mexica warriors heeded the order, quickly running towards the outermost wooden fence of the wooden fort, beginning to chop and destroy it. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seeing the Mexica start to break through the first barrier, the temporary fort commander shouted loudly. The archers and stone-throwing militia on the fort walls sporadically began to shoot. At this distance of thirty steps, the Tlaxcalan bows were sufficient to threaten the warriors¡¯ lives. A dozen Mexica warriors successively fell, their fates unknown.

 Chapter 304 - 159: The Foothold_3

    A thousand Longbow Warriors once again executed precision shooting at close range, and the Tarascans who poked their heads out fell like leaves, quickly silenced altogether. The temporary commander was in a great panic. He personally leaned out to shoot, loudly calling out, and got his wish, shot into a porcupine, and thus went to the Land of the Dead, to Goddess Haratana, the moon.


    Seeing the palisade breached, Xiulote once again waved the flag. The sound of the war drums suddenly quickened, resonating through heaven and earth. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Balda personally led five hundred Samurai in the vanguard. Clad in double armor, wearing a beast helmet, and gripping the Bronze Battle Axe awarded by Your Highness, he charged at the forefront of the siege team. A quarter hour later, the first ladder was set against the stockade, and Balda was the first to climb up. Within a few breaths, he reached the top of the wall, then with a ferocious roar, he swung his axe mightily, cutting down the nearby Tarascans. Behind him, more and more Mexica warriors advanced.


    With the support of the Longbowmen, a dozen more ladders successively reached the stockade walls, and Mexica warriors climbed up. When more than two hundred warriors had surged over, the stronghold was declared captured. The Tarascans made a final feeble resistance, and seeing the situation was hopeless, they threw down their weapons and prostrated themselves in surrender.


    Seeing the Wooden Fort fall, Xiulote remained composed. In just one day¡¯s time, the strategic foothold was easily taken. This victory was but the first inconsequential step of the campaign to the West. The young commander waited quietly till the gates were opened and Balda returned to report. Only then did he show a smile, lavishing praise on the valiant Eagle Warriors.


    Xiulote moved the central army, having the commander¡¯s flags enter the Wooden Fort. The warriors took complete control inside and outside the fort, and the captives were led out in lines. The young commander briefly surveyed the captives, totaling about one thousand five hundred. Two hundred Tarascan warriors had mostly fallen, most killed by precise close-range shots. The militiamen on the walls had also suffered several hundred casualties, while those hiding below the walls incurred fewer losses.


    The young commander issued orders in a grave voice.


    "Check the captives; perform sacrificial rites on those who are too severely wounded to move. Leave those with lighter injuries who can work to repair and fortify the stronghold. Interrogate the warriors for intelligence about the surrounding area; those willing to surrender and convert will be spared, the rest executed!"


    The Priests followed orders, erecting a sacred platform. The blazing Sacred Fire burned, and sacrificial rites and conversions proceeded simultaneously. Mystic and solemn chants echoed within the Wooden Fort, accompanied by the reverent blue flames of the Tarascans. The Priests, in their feather-crowned robes, ruthlessly wielded the Obsidian Daggers for sacrifice, fervently extolling the name of Huitzilopochtli, introducing the faith of the Chief Divine into the Tarasco Kingdom for the first time.


    Xiulote did not preside over such a small sacrificial rite. He sat high in the largest wooden house, analyzing the intelligence gathered from the captives and listening to the reports of the Scouts as they returned from their recon, deciding the next moves for the vanguard forces.


    The next day, the Mexica army split into two groups, besieging two nearby Wooden Forts. Marching one day and besieging the next, they broke into the stockades in two days, slaying three hundred Tarascan warriors and capturing close to three thousand militiamen and laborers.


    The Lerma River surged westward, naturally dividing North and South. Facing the sudden onslaught of the Mexica forces, the Tarascans finally began mobilizing their troops. The two remaining Wooden Forts on the North Coast were abandoned, with the Tarascan warriors the first to withdraw, losing hundreds in the pursuit by the Mexica vanguard. The remaining militiamen and laborers scattered in all directions, with at least two thousand surrendering.


    The conflict on the North Coast temporarily paused. The Tarasco Kingdom had lost five Wooden Forts established by the Mexica, seven hundred of their noble warriors, and nearly ten thousand common militiamen and laborers. In contrast, the Mexica vanguard solidified their footing on the North Coast. The Alliance¡¯s forces suffered only a hundred casualties, expended tens of thousands of arrows, but gained eight thousand new converts from their former captives.


    As the situation became clear, the Tarascans began mobilizing on the South Coast. They drafted warriors and militiamen, filled their fortresses and strongholds, assembled Naval Forces vessels, and dispatched Scout boats northward, clashing sporadically with the patrolling Mexica boats on the Lerma River. Further north, the Otomi Scouts flickered in and out of the forests, covertly monitoring the battle situation along the riverbanks.


    The intense fighting took a hiatus, and the dark clouds from the East had arrived. The true war was brewing, like the first rain about to fall in the coming rainy season.

 Chapter 305 - One Hundred and Sixty: Luring the Enemy and Inviting Battle

    More than half of May had passed, and the moist east wind blew in from the distant Great Lake, warming the fertile lands beside the Lerma River. A gentle drizzle fell from the gloomy sky, soaking the fields where corn seeds had been sown. This was the season for the farmers to till the land, as the spring breeze brought warmth and the light rain was like oil, filling the eye with shades of burgeoning green vitality.


    Among the fields on the south bank of the river, a corn seedling had already sprouted a fine tip. An inch of new sprout parted its delicate leaves, raising its slender stem and stretching toward the hopeful sky.


    A pair of calloused, bare feet ran past in panic, accompanied by frantic shouts, violently trampling the tender sprout into the dust and mud, bringing its season of growth to an abrupt end. Then, more pairs of bare feet, in their wild, staggering flight, trampled over the fields they had painstakingly cultivated, carrying cries of impotence and howls of terror as they fled southward.


    Moments later, countless pairs of straw sandals marched over the burgeoning fields with forceful steps. The war clubs that hung low brushed against the roadside grass, crossing over lands that began to go fallow. In accordance with the prince¡¯s orders, the figures in straw sandals did not hurry to pursue, nor did they kill without purpose. They simply kept driving the farmers away, setting aflame the gathering villages, and creating wave after wave of refugees.


    The figures in straw sandals continued their march to the south. Only when the stone fortress became remotely visible, and the Samurai with copper spears knocked their shields atop the wooden fortress, sounding the warning conch throughout the southern fields, did the Mexica warriors slowly and methodically retreat amidst the enemy¡¯s curses and shouts.


    On the great boat in the Lerma River, Xiulote, bearing the Commander¡¯s flag, calmly gazed southward.


    Around him, three hundred large boats lined up in succession, like arrayed beasts, displaying their massive force to the Tarasco people and inviting an ultimate showdown between the two naval forces. Thousands of smaller boats were divided into two groups. Half of them patrolled on the outer perimeter, like agile schools of fish, constantly scouting and patrolling. The other half were laden with Samurai, shuttling back and forth non-stop, moving the forces from north to south.


    "Plant corn and beans in May, and squash in June, leaving July idle, while harvesting occurs in August to October. The Alliance started the war at this time, deploying full-time Samurai to invade the enemy¡¯s agricultural areas. With the enemy¡¯s forces insufficient, unable to defend, they must abandon spring plowing and re-mobilize warriors and Militia. This is using the alignment of human resources to fully leverage the Alliance¡¯s manpower advantage."


    Xiulote thought dispassionately, as life began to be reduced to mere numbers, and actions were executed solely for victory. He observed the Tarasco camps, waiting for the enemy Commander-in-Chief¡¯s response.


    The Mexica vanguard had not been on the north bank for long before they made a major move with an earth-shattering momentum. Although the vanguard presented the posture of a massive invasion, in reality, only two thousand Samurai from the western City-States crossed the river to infiltrate the south. These warriors split into squads of a hundred, spreading havoc over the lands of the Akanbaro State. They burned down settlements on the southern bank of the Great River and drove the Tarasco farmers southward, right up to the enemy camps, a dozen miles away.


    Their task was threefold: to destroy, probe, and lure¡ªto destroy this year¡¯s spring plowing for the enemy, probe the current state of the enemy¡¯s mobilization, and lure enemy warriors into striking out.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze lingered on the southern bank of the river, revealing a confident smile. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    On the beaches along the southern bank, five hundred Jaguar Warriors and a thousand Temple Guards waited leisurely. These elite Battle Groups appeared relaxed and well-equipped, their combat power beyond doubt. At that moment, they sat cross-legged on the ground, resting and ready to launch sudden raids on large enemy groups.


    Above the Great River, Xiulote¡¯s fleet, carrying the real main force, waited solemnly. The most elite three thousand Samurai strung their Longbows, with quivers slung across and thumb rings tightly fitted. They sat quietly aboard the boats, conserving their strength, ready to rain arrows down upon the enemy from either the water or the shore. The imposing boats also carried an additional two thousand club and shield warriors, ready for potential boarding battles.


    Each large boat had more than ten Paddlers, while the smaller ones had two to three. The Mexica Naval Forces¡¯ sailors and Militia totaled eight thousand, all in a state of battle readiness.


    Xiulote looked up at the sky where fine drizzle slid softly, stirring circles of ripples on the water¡¯s surface. The first rain had already lasted for three days, from the initial sporadic drops to the current rain like silk threads, and it looked set to intensify.


    The Young Commander stood expressionless, deeply contemplative.


    This was the Mexica vanguard¡¯s last baiting of the enemy and the Naval Forces¡¯ final invitation to battle. Eight thousand Samurai were fully mobilized from the main force, while the north bank¡¯s Wooden Fort retained only a thousand city-state and a thousand full-time warriors, who were scattered around, overseeing eight thousand prisoners. Under the covered tarps on the great boats lay bundles of Fire Arrows, and the Longbow Warriors had replaced their bowstrings.


    If the Tarasco Naval Forces engaged in battle, the Mexica Naval Forces would give them an unforgettable "surprise," thereby establishing absolute dominance on the Lerma River.


    Xiulote looked again toward the southwest Rivermouth, where the towering Rivermouth fortress loomed in the distance, yet only a few scattered Tarasco boats plied the waters. These boats probed from afar, occasionally passing through the fortress to report on military intelligence. The main body of the Tarasco Naval Forces remained hidden in Cuitzeo Lake, under the tight protection of the Rivermouth fortress, it was unclear if they were fully assembled yet.


    "If a few more days pass and the rain intensifies again, the rainy season will truly begin. Then, Gunpowder Weapons will no longer function, and the Longbow¡¯s power will be greatly diminished. Under such natural conditions, the Mexica Naval Forces will lose their absolute long-range advantage, and it will no longer be the right opportunity for a major battle."

 Chapter 306 - 160: Luring the Enemy and Inviting Battle_2

    Xiulote pondered the opportune moment for waging war when suddenly he heard the scout¡¯s report.


    "Your Highness, a large enemy force has appeared ten miles to the southeast, at least five thousand strong!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote ascended to the high platform on the great boat, straining his eyes southeastward. Ten miles was nearly the limit of plain sight, and in the southeast were faintly visible several small dots in flight. Following them were a large mass of black dots and birds startled into flight from where they passed.


    Xiulote was briefly stunned, then his face brightened with pleasure. He glanced again at the swarming enemy ships on the southwestern river, but the naval forces showed no sign of mobilizing. After a brief reflection, the young commander ordered two thousand club and shield warriors to land, while the elite battle group at the riverbank readied for combat. Soon after, three columns of black smoke rose on the southern bank, signaling the scattered city-state warriors to gather.


    Some time later, the two thousand warriors finished disembarking, and the distant enemy army was now clearly in sight, their copper spears glinting coldly. Three to four hundred Mexica warriors rushed toward the riverbank, blowing their bone whistles. Seeing the vast scale of the river fleet and realizing the Mexica warriors were prepared for battle, the Tarasco pursuers noticeably slowed.


    Xiulote listened intently for a while, discerning only the repetition of two syllables. The young commander thought briefly, then decisively set aside pondering and inquired of the head warrior beside him.


    "Bertade, what is the meaning of this whistle signal?"


    Bertade had been listening for quite some time. He smiled faintly, answering calmly,


    "Your Highness, it means: ¡¯Be cautious, there are many enemies.¡¯


    Xiulote was momentarily at a loss for words. Seeing that the pursuers on the southern bank had already halted, seemingly preparing to retreat, he hesitated no longer and vigorously waved the battle flag.


    The sound of the attack drums burst forth abruptly. A thousand temple guards, vociferously chanting the name of the divine, made the heavens resound. They lowered their shields and raised their war clubs, charging toward the foremost Tarasco warriors. Then, warriors clashed shields, their bodies colliding, mud and water splashing all over them.


    The temple guards swung their war clubs, striking at the enemy¡¯s heads, smashing their leather caps and bones inward. The Tarasco warriors lunged with their copper spears, piercing through the guards¡¯ cotton armor and deep into their soft innards. The frontal combat instantly intensified as warriors from both sides entangled and fell, their blood gradually staining the earth red.


    The two thousand direct warriors split into two flanks, assaulting the enemy¡¯s left and right. They faced groups of thrusting copper spears, their opponents a militia without shields. The direct warriors, skilled and experienced, raised their shields high, shouting as they extended to the flanks, gradually forcing the opposing militia to scatter. Then, the leading veteran warriors burst out with continuous fierce shouts and bravely breached the enemy¡¯s lines. In close-quarters battle, utilizing skilled techniques, they knocked down the militiamen, one by one, their long spears in hand.


    The five hundred Jaguar Warrior Brigade slightly altered their course, like nimble cheetahs, circling to the rear of the enemy. Howling to terrify, they hurled two rounds of javelins, creating two gaps in the enemy lines. Then, the elite battle group charged into the disordered and shaken militia, slaughtering them massively. The ferocious beast-shaped helmets brought an imposing terror, like pouncing predators, causing the militiamen¡¯s courage to falter. The practiced war clubs were even more lethal, and amidst the continual strikes, the ambushed enemies fell like corn stalks, blood spraying on the spot.


    Xiulote watched the southern bank with calm, observantly scrutinizing the battle¡¯s progress. As the clash between warrios and militiamen unfolded, the fighting line stretched to the wings, and the huddled enemies slowly formed a long line. Only then did he fully discern the exact makeup of the enemy forces.


    Directly ahead were a thousand Tarasco warriors, resisting the frenzied onslaught of the temple guards, momentarily at a disadvantage. As the flanks engaged, the military might of the Tarascos resisted for a moment before retreating in disarray; these must have been trained militiamen. When the circumventing Jaguar Warriors launched their strike, the Tarascan formation sharply caved inward, their flags askew, quickly leading to collapse... The rear ranks were definitely regular militiamen.


    The three hundred city-state warriors had rested but a quarter. By the time they re-entered the fray, the Tarasco military might was on the verge of collapse. Following the messenger officer¡¯s flag commands, the city-state warriors formed an arrowhead and once more penetrated from a gap on the flanks. The Tarasco army, like a tensely stretched thread, was lightly cut by a blade and violently snapped into two, then thunderously collapsed.


    Thousands of militiamen dropped their copper spears and let out a great but meaningless cry, turning south to flee. The Mexica warriors made brief resistance, then groups of militiamen knelt to surrender. The two wings of direct warriors began pursuing southward while the city-state warriors, exhausted, remained in place to oversee the surrendered militiamen.


    The noble Jaguar Warrior Brigade disdained pursuing the militia. They roared again, assaulting the struggling Tarasco warriors from behind. Such an attack from the rear was the most lethal; it could entirely disrupt the rhythm of defense. In less than a quarter of an hour, a thousand Copper Spear warriors scattered and fled to the south. The Temple Guards feverishly praised the name of the divine, thanking the Chief Divine for the victory, then quickly gave chase.


    Seeing victory come so swiftly, Xiulote laughed out loud, sharing the joy of battle with the other commanders. Then he lowered his gaze, lost in thought.


    This Tarasco army consisted of only a thousand warriors, the rest, four to five thousand, were militia. The expected large-scale battle did not materialize, nor did the enemy¡¯s naval forces make a move. Now, the main Tarasco forces were hiding behind a series of camp enclosures and fortresses, firmly controlling the southern defensive line. He could neither ascertain the detailed mobilization of the enemy nor estimate the distribution of their forces, leaving him no choice but to continue probing cautiously, wary of potential dangers.


    A strong wind brought distant thunder. Soon, the rain in the sky intensified, wetting the rain cloths on the large boats and soaking the prepared Fire Arrows.


    Xiulote raised his head, allowing the raindrops to hit his face, savoring the slight pain as if he were heeding the will of the Heavenly Divine.


    Before long, Balda came forward again to report. In this battle, two hundred Tarasco warriors were killed, five hundred were captured. Several hundred militia were killed, and over two thousand were taken prisoner. More than three thousand Copper Spears, long and short, were confiscated. The Mexica suffered casualties of just over a hundred warriors, most of which occurred in the direct confrontation of warriors on the battlefield. At this moment, a large number of warriors were still in pursuit.


    The Young Commander nodded with a dignified expression, praising the courage of the warriors. As long as the warriors did not exhaust their strength, scatter in retreat, or be completely surrounded, casualties in direct combat would not be excessive. Once the militia scattered, they often ran faster than the warriors, making them a target not worth the risk of pursuit.


    After contemplating for a moment, Xiulote commanded in a deep voice,


    "Very well, Balda, you fought well! The next order is: Recall the pursuing warriors, tend to our wounded. Classify the prisoners and inquire about the enemy details!"


    Balda saluted and departed on his mission.


    Shortly thereafter, dozens of Messenger Officers raced in all directions, spreading the order to regroup. Subsequently, groups of prisoners, stripped of their equipment, were escorted onto the boats, shuttling back and forth, and transported in batches to the North Coast. The warriors then secured their weapons, holding their spoils of the battlefield, eagerly discussing the recent battle and excitedly boarding the large boat.


    The wind howled, battle flags billowed, and continuous rain scattered in all directions. The rain diluted the blood-soaked earth and also washed over the hastily buried bodies.


    Xiulote refused the proposal to build victory monuments. In the warm rainy season, bodies should be buried quickly to prevent the outbreak of diseases. With the arrival of the rainy season, enticing the enemy to battle came to an end. He did not wish to overly provoke the enemy and struggle to fight during the torrential rains.


    In the end, the Young Commander looked toward the rivermouth fortress to the southwest. The enemy¡¯s small boats were still moving about, carrying the news of defeat on the banks back to the south¡ªthese were the eyes of the Tarasco people, and the rivermouth fortress was the vital support holding those eyes. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote focussed for a long time, formulating some new ideas in his contemplation. Then, the flag of the Commander pointed north, the sound of the retreat call resounded, and the Camp Captains responded loudly as sailors once again paddled the oars.


    Soon after, thousands of boats swayed, and tens of thousands returned north, with the dusky sky concealing everything. The Mexica Naval Forces, laden with the spoils of victory, sailed towards the secure North Coast stronghold, leaving only the gradually fading green smoke in the drizzling rain behind.


    Note: At the end of the chapter is a detailed map of the Tarasco conquest, covering the land of Michoacan.

 Chapter 307 - 161: Sending Back and Discussing Battle

    The rain in May was gentle, like the prelude to drumbeats, leaving long intervals in between. But when June arrived with the wind, the drumming of the raindrops became urgent. The sun loomed behind the gloomy clouds, only occasionally casting its relentless gaze down, admiring the wars of the human world, waiting for the offering of life.


    Xiulote stood on the rampart of the Wooden Fort, with rain "pitter-pattering" against the flags behind him, and "whooshing" into the great river before him. Amid the swaying wind and rain, he watched the hundreds of large boats of the Naval Forces, the continuous fleet stretching for miles, with armored Samurai standing at the prow of each. Then, the Young Commander saw something and nodded slightly with a smile.


    Annatri, the Legion Commander of the boatmen, stood erect on the boat, turning to look at the camp. This agile female Samurai, holding a flag-topped long spear of three meters, draped in a dark red cape, with a long dagger of one chi at her waist, was an expert in naval combat. Then she bowed her head, her short hair hanging down, as she gave her final salute to the Commander¡¯s flag.


    After the salute, Annatri triggered the command flag on her long spear, and the leaders among the warriors on the fleet brandished their weapons, shouting loudly. Hearing the command, the Militia made one last check of the captives¡¯ ropes, then rowed their oars, carrying tens of thousands of terrified Tarasco men back to the powerful Mexica Alliance.


    Xiulote watched as the fleet slowly made its way against the current towards the east, observing the orderly departure of large and small boats, and he nodded in affirmation again.


    "Annatri is always trustworthy. Coming back from the east of the Lerma River against the wind and current, the fleet¡¯s progress is slow. It will be at least July before she returns, laden with food and support. With the main force of the Naval Forces away, the Wooden Fort must be doubly vigilant, and the remaining boats must patrol day and night, guarding against Tarasco people crossing from the north," he said.


    Hearing this, Bertade chuckled and commented,


    "Legion Commander Annatri comes from a Naval Forces family of the Alliance, originating from distant tribal times. They uphold a matrilineal tradition, controlling the Mexica¡¯s Naval Forces generation after generation and maintaining neutrality within the Alliance. The name ¡¯Annatri¡¯ itself is a legacy, meaning ¡¯source of the river, mother of the lakes.¡¯ When it comes to naval combat, even without bow and arrow, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m no match for her..."


    "Your Highness has given up two remote Wooden Forts, and with the remaining three supporting each other, ten thousand loyal and elite Samurai are stationed. After sending away these captives, the stored grain is sufficient for three months. The crucial fort walls have also been reinforced. If the Tarasco people attack from the north, they will be met with bloody heads against longbows and Wooden Forts!"


    At these words, Xiulote laughed heartily, filled with soaring confidence. Then, looking at the continuous rain, he laughed again. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The rainy season has arrived, making construction and marching difficult. These apparently converted men cannot be trusted. Leaving them idle in the camp is a significant risk. As the Naval Forces are returning east, it¡¯s best to transport all of them away to Teotihuacan to serve as agricultural slaves, freeing up the Samurai and Militia of the Holy City from farm work. Our Northern Route Army needs more support!"


    At this point, the Young Commander looked seriously at the Head Warrior, observing his weathered face.


    "Bertade, you have always been close to the common Samurai and are aware of the situation at the lower levels. How is the morale of the army now?"


    The Head Warrior bowed his head in respect, pondered for a moment, and replied candidly,


    "Your Highness, with successive minor victories, a large number of captives have been taken, and our losses are negligible. The Samurai¡¯s morale is quite high. The Alliance has always placed great importance on military achievements against Tarasco and Tlaxcala. A fourth-level, experienced Samurai who captures five Tarasco warriors can be exceptionally promoted to military nobility, officially becoming a member of the minor Nobility. This campaign will certainly yield many new nobles, but it will also require vast tracts of land for enfeoffment and substantial rewards in wealth!..."


    Xiulote laughed out loud. With a laugh, he said,


    "Once we conquer Qinchongcan, seizing the prosperous and rich Patzcuaro Lake region, land and wealth will not be a problem. The Alliance can only firmly control newly conquered lands by depending on its enfeoffed Samurai Nobility!"


    Bertade nodded, continuing with his report,


    "Indeed, the priests at all levels are the link that maintains the Alliance, while the Nobility Samurai are the foundation of the Alliance¡¯s rule. Your Highness has just conducted the promotion ceremony for Samurai of various ranks, and it was effective. Of course, with sufficient rewards in wealth, the army¡¯s morale would climb even higher. Right now, the common Samurai are eager for battle and captivity. They aspire to advance and even join the Battle Group to become part of the Alliance¡¯s military nobility!"


    At the mention of military nobility, Bertade smiled faintly, his smile carrying the vicissitudes of life.


    Xiulote¡¯s expression stalled momentarily. Encouraging technological development had drained his treasury. While honoring ranks was one thing, rewarding with wealth was another matter altogether¡ªthere was simply nothing to give. This hope was pinned on conquering the stronghold of Tarasco and plundering the wealth of the long-established Tarasco Great Nobility.


    Then, the Young Commander nodded in agreement, lost in thought,


    It had been just over fifty years since the rise of the Mexica, starting with the conquest of the capital, Topanek, and forming the Three-City Alliance. Thanks to an effective system of military merits, the Alliance was filled with a robust spirit and vitality, with the Samurai brimming with a desire for conquest and achievement, the source of the Alliance¡¯s strength.


    Similarly, with the legal system of the Mexica Alliance still undeveloped, the illegitimate children of the Nobility could inherit titles through military honors, while incompetent legitimate children could fall to commoners¡¯ status. There was no insurmountable gap between common Samurai and the minor Nobility¡ªthey did not need to kneel to Nobility. The various social strata were fluid and far from rigid, with clear tribal characteristics. The Alliance favored martial supremacy, combined with religious integration, strikingly akin to the nomadic empires on the grasslands of Eurasia.

 Chapter 308 - 161: Sending Back and Discussing Battle_2

    After a moment of reflection, the Young Commander gathered his scattered thoughts and looked again toward the southern bank of the Lerma River. The villages and farmland along the coast, stretching for miles, lay abandoned, and distant fortresses undulated among the hills, controlling all the river mouths and passages. Tarasco¡¯s legions were stationed behind stone forts and wooden fortresses, and their Naval Forces hid within Cuitzeo Lake. The main force of the enemy remained as elusive as a fog, hard to clearly discern, causing unease.


    "Such is the fog of war!"


    Xiulote looked on for a long time and sighed softly.


    "Bertade, at this point, I do wish the Tarasco army would come out of their turtle shells. It would be best if they dared to cross the river in the rain, deploying both by land and water, besieging the camps on the North Coast. Then, everything would be clear! Currently, they can mobilize a limited army, at most ten thousand Samurai and twenty thousand Militia, unable to breach the wooden fort in the short term. As long as the vanguard holds out for a month and waits for the fleet to return with reinforcements, it will be another splendid victory!"


    Bertade nodded in agreement, his gaze stern as he looked toward the southwestern river fortresses.


    "Your Highness, the Southern Army should already be pressing the south, forcing the Tarasco people to defend heavily. More than the limited mobilization of warriors, I worry more about the Tarasco Naval Forces. Along the vast banks of the Lerma River, having the advantage of the Naval Forces is akin to controlling the battlefield initiative. When our Alliance¡¯s Naval Forces are present, we can maneuver advantageously, concentrate our forces, and choose our point of attack from the south. Just as you said, ¡¯In the appropriate battlefield against the appropriate enemy.¡¯ However, now that the Naval Forces have returned to the east, we can only station ourselves in the wooden fort, cease our strikes, and wait for reinforcements."


    Xiulote looked at Bertade appreciatively. In Central America, rivers never freeze, and in the basins crisscrossed by grand rivers, Naval Forces are the Cavalry that seize tactical initiatives! The Head Warrior¡¯s understanding in employing Naval Forces to grasp the essence of maneuver warfare showed that his own influence was indeed effective.


    The Young Commander then affectionately patted the Head Warrior on the shoulder, boasting playfully.


    "Bertade, you have learned the essence of the tactics I have imparted! You must keep yourself healthy. In the future, I will entrust you with a force as swift as the wind!"


    Hearing this, the Head Warrior looked puzzled. As swift as the wind, but how could that be achieved? Surely one couldn¡¯t grow wings and fly like a bird.


    Xiulote did not explain. He merely mentioned it in passing and then continued analyzing military intelligence.


    "The enemy¡¯s Naval Forces have been shrinking back, unclear in their mobilization details. They might be transporting supplies and troops, waiting for support from the Chapala Lake Region, or they might have already amassed their forces, ready to strike at any moment. The Chapala Lake Region has a high degree of independence, busy with spring plowing, support likely coming only after the October harvest... Even if we find no opportunity for battle, we cannot simply wait for the situation to unfold. Bertade, is there any news from the Messenger contacting the Northern Tekos people?"


    The Head Warrior recalled the latest intelligence and shook his head slightly.


    "Heading to the Northern Tekos people requires passing through the Chapala Lake Region. The Tarasco nobility there have already begun preparing for war, blocking major rivers and roads. It would be difficult for an Envoy to pass through there. According to a merchant¡¯s report intercepted last month, the Northern Tekos people being suppressed in the Northwestern highlands, have only been conducting guerrilla warfare in the mountains. With their scattered military strength and guerrilla tactics, they certainly won¡¯t attempt to snatch chestnuts from the fire for the Alliance, nor would they draw the main force of the Chapala Lake Region."


    Xiulote thought for a while and agreed with a smile. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Bertade, you are right! The Northern Tekos people are like hyenas waiting for their prey, only pouncing when it is weak. We cannot rely on them. We need to defeat the Chapala reinforcements in a frontal encounter first, reduce the strength of the Western Tarasco nobility, and then incite the Tekos to strike... So, what about the movements of the Northern Guamal Canine Descendants?"


    Bertade thought for a moment and reported back.


    "Your Highness, we have sent three batches of envoys, all of whom were attacked and killed by the savage Guamal Canine Descendants, who stole the gifts they carried. They are dispersed into many tribes with no clear leader, making negotiations difficult."


    Xiulote paused to think, recalling the methods of interaction between the Celestial Empire and the Highland Tribe, and then asked,


    "Do they have any special needs for goods? Such as tea... no, it should be spices, cocoa, or salt? Of course, not food. The perpetual shortage of food is their biggest driving force to move southward!"


    The Head Warrior thought about the envoys¡¯ reports and analyzed the intelligence from captured merchants before speaking.


    "Some of the Great Tribes occupy the rare salt fields in the desert, many smaller tribes lack salt, so they are more friendly towards caravans carrying salt. The Great Tribes don¡¯t have the custom of drinking sacred cocoa; they likely have never had the chance to taste it. The Canine Descendants lack medical supplies and cotton, they only have simple agave plants for treatment... Oh, they have a custom of cremating the dead and scattering their ashes to the wind, calling themselves ¡¯Children of the Wind.¡¯ They also dye their hair with various colors and paint tattoos on their faces in homage to different Heavenly Divines!"


    "Cremation and scattering ashes, Children of the Wind, hair dyeing and face tattoos?"


    Xiulote was momentarily stunned, his thoughts drifting to long distant memories. After a while, he smiled faintly and nodded, giving orders in a deep voice.


    "Then send out a trade delegation with a hundred escort samurai. Let the traders carry a sufficient amount of salt to buy off the smaller tribes, and gift the chieftains with small amounts of cocoa and cotton. Have the traders describe to these tribes the prosperity and vulnerability of the Chapala Lake Region, encouraging them to move south quickly!... Also, select two brave priests, raise them to a higher ecclesiastical rank. Let them bring Maya blue dye to baptize and face paint the Canine Descendants, learn the local language, understand the customs, and then find an opportunity to spread the Chief Divine¡¯s faith!"


    "In conquering the Tarasco Kingdom, these Canine Descendants are our potential allies. After conquering the Tarasco Kingdom, they will be the next conquest target!"


    In the howling wind and rain, Xiulote ordered loudly. The Young Commander¡¯s vision was not limited to the present; he had long been looking at the world.


    Bertade bowed to receive the command. What he admired the most was the Young Commander¡¯s foresight, soaring like a bird, never confined to the traditional ideas of the era. Consequently, the Head Warrior returned to reality, again mentioning the move southward.


    "Your Highness, once the subsequent forces arrive, as the large army continues south, we will encounter the long-operated Tarasco Fortress. Our military strength is limited, the supply lines are lengthy, and it is unwise to hard-attack the southern line of fortresses. Meanwhile, the Rivermouth Fortress controls the river entrance, blocking the entry to Cuitzeo Lake. The Tarasco Naval Forces are always deep inside Cuitzeo Lake, like a snake that could emerge at any moment. Once the large army gets stuck inside the southern line of fortresses, it will definitely be ambushed by the enemy¡¯s fleet, taking a severe bite."


    Xiulote again looked toward the west, gazing in the direction of the rivermouth. After a long time, he slowly nodded.


    "The Rivermouth Fortress must be taken! Only by clearing this node can we move directly south from Cuitzeo Lake, bypassing most of the fortresses on the south coast, and drive straight into the heartland of the Tarasco Kingdom!"


    Afterward, Xiulote paced two steps, his expression changing unpredictably. He watched the relentless rainwater, the perpetually dim sky, and finally made a decision.


    "The army can rest, but the commander must plan. Bertade, be prepared. Tomorrow I want to go to the rivermouth to personally scout the area, to truly observe the geographical advantage!"


    The long wind surged westward, the Young Commander¡¯s orders dispersed in the wind, with the tall and vibrant battle flag fluttering.

 Chapter 309 - 162 Investigation (Added for alliance leader Xian Qilin)

    The incessant drizzle fell from the sky, dampening the flags that stood tall, and landing on the fortresses of polished blue stone. The raindrops meandered down the smooth stone, hardened by many washings, difficult to ascend. They then merged into the rushing Lerma River, gliding past the small boats on the water.


    At the mouth of the river near the Tarasco¡¯s fortress, a hundred meters away, several small Mexica boats were swaying and probing. This was the daily reconnaissance of the northern enemy, a routine the defending army had grown accustomed to.


    Xiulote stood alone at the prow, attentively observing the layout of the rivermouth fortress.


    Since it was a personal reconnaissance, he certainly couldn¡¯t carry the commander¡¯s banner, nor could he ride in a large boat. Dressed in the simple garb of a civilian samurai, the young commander wore his habitual Mexica longbow and carried the obsidian short dagger that was never far from his side. He appeared as an ordinary young warrior, spirited and attentive as he surveyed from the boat. Behind him, a towering Head Warrior with a longbow stood firmly at the center of the small craft.


    Xiulote watched for a long time, his expression growing increasingly serious. He straightened his arm, crossed his thumb with his fingers, took references and made comparisons for some time, then deeply furrowed his brow.


    The height of the fortress walls at the rivermouth was a staggering six meters. From this height, the defending army¡¯s rolling stones and arrows had immense destructive power. And judging by the number of soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder, the width of the wall top was also five to six meters, with the base being at least eight to nine meters wide. The exterior of the fortress was brick-clad, with the underlying blue stone exposed at the top. The thick walls were engraved with dense, intricate yellow patterns, revealing ancient and profound traces of age.


    Xiulote needed only a brief look to recognize it as the mysterious symbols carved by the Tarasco priests, representing the blessing of the Earth Mother Goddess Velavaperi, signifying that the fortress was reinforced with the power of the earth. It seemed that the Tarasco Kingdom had managed the rivermouth fortress for a long time and placed great emphasis on its defense.


    The young commander pondered for a moment and then gave a quiet order to the Head Warrior behind him. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Circle half way around the fortress along the Lerma River. I want to see the specific topography and terrain!"


    Bertade nodded slightly without saluting to avoid blowing Xiulote¡¯s cover. Quickly, the several small boats picked up their oars and circled around the fortress like swimming fish.


    After viewing it a couple of times, Xiulote sharply inhaled a breath of cool air. Although he had already heard from the scouts, seeing the terrain with his own eyes still chilled his heart. The rivermouth fortress was surrounded by the river on three sides and faced land on one side, a truly defensible and difficult to attack position.


    To the north of the fortress was the expansive Lerma River, and to the west was Cuitzeo Lake. The channel between the river and the lake that led to the mouth was only thirty to forty meters wide, spanning hundreds of meters in length, all within the striking range of the fortress¡¯s towers. The fortress had no northern gate, but there was a water gate on the west side, connected to Cuitzeo Lake, from where the defending army could strike at any time, cutting off the river-lake passage.


    To the east of the fortress was the land bank of the river, but there was also a natural moat, about five to six meters wide. Likewise, to facilitate defense, the fortress had no eastern gate, only a barely visible southern gate for the passage of large groups of warriors. Outside the southern gate, there were two circles of wooden fences meant to obstruct, both within long-range striking distance from the city head.


    The young commander mentally calculated. Two to three li east to west of the rivermouth fortress, and two to three li north to south, meant the area was around two square kilometers, essentially a small city. Such a military city could garrison ten to twenty thousand people. Relying on natural terrain and man-made fortifications, it was truly a hard place to conquer. If one were to mount an assault on the city, the casualties were unknowable.


    Xiulote looked up again, carefully observing the city head. The city walls were piled with logs and stones, with tall watchtowers erected on top. Shielding archers, there were also thick shields on top of the walls. The remaining militia wielded copper spears and huddled in groups, now looking down at the Mexica boats on the river.


    "Although the Tarasco people only have ordinary single bows, they possess a large number of armor-piercing copper arrows, which can kill a leather-armored warrior at twenty meters,"


    Xiulote pondered secretly, feeling heavy-hearted. He looked at the flags fluttering on the city head, one was the grand banner of the gods¡ªthe sun, moon, and stars¡ª,and another symbolized the Royal Family, the "Ukucuscha" flag, which is the Eagle Banner. The last was the emblematic banner of the local Nobility, whose family crest was "Ospai," the green Crocodile.


    The meanings of these flags were that the fortress was under the dual jurisdiction of the gods and the King, and was actually controlled by the local "Crocodile" Nobility.


    "If the King¡¯s banner can fly on the fiefs of the bordering Nobility, it seems the centralization of the Tarasco Kingdom is indeed higher than that of the Mexica Alliance. Using the formidable Crocodile as a family crest, the Nobility here must surely be a member of the Great Nobility,"


    Xiulote looked at the flags and analyzed for a while before returning his gaze to the sturdy fortress. He thought for a moment, his mind cycling through many classic battles. Finally, the young commander turned his head and spoke to the Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, let¡¯s get closer and take a good look at the water gate!..."


    The young man¡¯s voice dissipated in the wind, gradually becoming inaudible, until it reached the top of the rivermouth fortress. Beneath the fluttering three banners, amidst the surrounding warriors, two Nobles of Tarasco adorned in war clothes sat cross-legged on cotton mats, engaged in discussion.


    "General Kukuna, the main Naval Forces of the Mexica have departed, and the Kingdom¡¯s Navy has also assembled completely. It is time to dispatch the army and teach the enemy on the north coast a lesson!"


    A robust, round-faced Noble spoke loudly, his demeanor authoritative and commanding. He wore an exquisite Bronze Necklace and a dark grey Crocodile leather hat, inlaid with purple copper, immediately signaling his high status.

 Chapter 310 - 162: Reconnaissance (Added for alliance leader Xian Qilin)_2

    "Respected Legion Commander Espai, now is indeed a good opportunity for the Naval Forces to make a move. However, the legion¡¯s mobilization is insufficient, and the southern camp was just lured into an ambush by the Mexica people, losing seven hundred Samurais and three thousand Militia... I¡¯m afraid it would be difficult to deploy a large army to move north."


    General Kukuna slightly bowed his head in salute to the round-faced nobility. He was respectful in demeanor, not very tall, dressed quite plainly, with a notably hooked nose, or what the Prepetcha people would call a "turkey nose."


    Yes, in the Prepetcha language, the word "Kukuna" means turkey, just as "Espai" means crocodile. In this era, the names of nobility often came from animals, ancestors, myths, or spirits, and they often carried corresponding responsibilities. The name "Espai" signifies the legacy of the Naval Forces, while "Kukuna" clearly represents only the commander of Militia or lower-ranking Samurais.


    It¡¯s worth noting that in the Nava language, a turkey is called "Keke Lou," very similar to "Kukuna" in the Prepetcha language. This similarity in pronunciation proves that the Mexica and the Prepetcha people actually have very similar ancestral origins, likely both from migratory Canine Descendants from the far northwest.


    Meanwhile, in the Yucatan Maya language, a turkey is called "Wulum" or "Das," completely different from that among the Mexica groups.


    Hearing General Kukuna¡¯s words, the round-faced nobility glared at him discontentedly and reprimanded loudly.


    "The nobility of the southern fortresses are nothing but land turtles inept at field battles. They only dare hide behind the camp, letting the fierce Mexica people rampage, looting the citizens of the kingdom! The Rivermouth fortress controlled by my Naval Forces should possess the courage of a crocodile to attack ferociously!"


    "Kukuna, it is exactly your lack of courage in battle that caused you to lose the Wooden Fort on the North Coast so quickly, without even setting fire to burn down the fort, easily giving the Mexica people a foothold! Fortunately, you still have three hundred Samurais and a thousand Militia and a chance to make amends."


    Hearing the rebuke from Legion Commander Espai, Kukuna bowed his head, silent.


    "I have gathered twenty thousand Militia sailors, three thousand elite Samurais, and another two thousand from the southern fortresses, ready to raid the three Wooden Forts on the North Coast at any moment. And just as the Capital City army of King Su¡¯angua arrives, or support from the Chapala Lake Region, we can cross the river northward, completely driving the Mexica people out of the north!"


    Hearing this, Kukuna turned pale with shock. He finally advised.


    "Respected Legion Commander Espai, His Majesty gave you three thousand Samurais and tens of thousands of Militia to firmly hold the Rivermouth fortress. This place controls the pathway to Cuitzeo Lake and also protects the hinterland of the kingdom along the lake; it must not be lost!"


    "The Mexica people are always good at fighting, with strong and elite infantry. Now, they have acquired a kind of powerful Greatbow that can kill a Samurai from over a hundred meters away. The quick fall of the Wooden Forts on the North Coast is precisely because of these Greatbows!"


    The round-faced nobility initially looked disdainful, but upon hearing this, he became intrigued instead.


    "Kukuna, I¡¯ve heard similar accounts from returning Samurais but didn¡¯t believe them. Now you¡¯re saying the same... the Mexica people really have a kind of Greatbow that can shoot from a hundred meters away and penetrate Leather Armor? What does it look like?"


    Kukuna tried to recall, haltingly describing.


    "A very large, long bow, like a curved wooden stick, probably two meters long, drawn to about one meter... When the Greatbow shoots, the arrows fly like meteors, fast as lightning, unstoppable... Legion Commander Espai, with these Longbows in defense, the three Wooden Forts on the North Coast, though low, are absolutely not something that twenty or thirty thousand men can conquer!"


    Legion Commander Espai shook his head with a light laugh, picked up the tequila rice wine from the cotton blanket, and drank it down. He did not pay heed to Kukuna¡¯s absurd words, treating them just as a loser¡¯s excuse.


    Filled with concern, Kukuna looked around hesitantly, his gaze suddenly drawn by five or six small boats on the river. He watched as these boats approached closer and closer, until they were only about fifty meters from the western water gate. Several Samurais on the boats, risking being shot by arrows, were inspecting the details of the fortress.


    Upon closer observation, General Kukuna¡¯s attention was captured by the leading tall Samurai. The Samurai stood solemnly with an imposing demeanor, a Greatbow of the Mexica people right behind him, and the young Samurai standing before him also had a Greatbow. The six surrounding guards each had the rarely seen Greatbows in hand as well.


    Kukuna urgently shouted.


    "Legion Commander Espai! Look, that¡¯s the Mexica people¡¯s scouting fleet!" sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Legion Commander Espai glanced briefly, nonchalantly responded.


    "The Mexica people¡¯s scouting fleet comes here every day, only five or six boats each time. Kukuna, as a Samurai, you should learn to stay calm... don¡¯t speak, listen to me!"


    The round-faced nobility mused, his face showing a trace of seriousness.


    "Kukuna, I just had an idea. You¡¯ve been stationed in the north for several months, without conflict with the Otomi people, creating a sort of tacit understanding. So, you go on a mission to Otapan City, offering them food or bronze weapons from the kingdom. I only need the Otomi people to quickly send troops, joining the kingdom in a pincer attack against the Mexica people! Once we recover the Wooden Forts on the North Coast, we can also return them, with both nations henceforth bound by the Lerma River!"


    Kukuna¡¯s face stiffened, disregarding the matter of the Greatbows, he exclaimed in surprise.


    "Legion Commander Espai, without the King¡¯s permission, how dare I negotiate giving up the land on the north of the Lerma River!"

 Chapter 311 - 162: Reconnaissance (Added for Alliance Leader Xian Qilin)_3

    Ospai shook his head, his tone calm, tinged with faint mockery.


    "Kukuna, you have already proven with your own achievements, the Wooden Fort on the North Coast is indefensible. The Kingdom¡¯s control over it is just a pointless depletion of troops. Moreover, our primary task now is to defeat the Mexica vanguard, to prevent the enemy from gathering in greater numbers! As for the promises made at this time, of course, they should be decided upon after the war is over."


    Kukuna pondered the proposal, feeling it somewhat feasible. The commander¡¯s willingness to dispatch troops seemed even more resolute. He quickly pointed his finger at the small Mexica boats in front of the water gate, shouting loudly.


    "Commander, look, there is the Mexica Longbow!"


    Ospai was slightly startled. He turned his head, his eyes widened, observing the Mexica boat carefully. The gaze of the round-faced nobility passed over the young boy on the bow, resting on the tall, quiet, weathered samurai, then moved to the huge longbow behind him.


    "To have such a Greatbow? I wonder what kind of power it holds!" S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Based on the height of the samurai and the length of the boat, Ospai gestured with his fingers. Then, he looked again at the most conspicuous weathered samurai, his eyes gleaming.


    "This samurai¡¯s posture is steady, standing on the rocking boat, unmoving. He must be a warrior skilled in martial arts! Dressed as a commoner, without a family crest, he seems not to be nobility, but can be persuaded to defect. Leather armor, greatbow, well-equipped, demeanor strong, he is likely a commoner-born Warrior Camp Chief!"


    The round-faced nobility showed a belligerent excitement. His robust body suddenly stood up, striding forth, leaving a casual yet commanding order.


    "Kukuna, secure the water gate, I will be right back! It has been months since I¡¯ve fought, and today I shall properly exercise my limbs, capturing this samurai. It¡¯s also a good opportunity to ask about the situation on the North Coast and see what this longbow can really do!"


    Bertade stood alert at the center of the small boat. He carefully guarded against Cuitzeo Lake and Lerma River, on the lookout for any approaching Tarasco fleet. Should the enemy¡¯s naval forces come within two kilometers, he would not hesitate to take his highness back.


    Xiulote glanced at the top of the fortress, where a round-faced warrior suddenly stood up, looked down momentarily, then disappeared from view. The Young Commander paid no heed and continued to observe the water gate more than fifty meters away.


    The water gate was quite large, about seven or eight meters wide, and about three or four meters high. Below it was a water channel, also seven or eight meters wide, allowing two three-meter-wide outrigger canoes to exit side by side. This channel extended forward, its connection to the fortress unclear, as was the nature of its internal defense. Indeed, this water gate was a broad passage for troops...


    As Xiulote pondered, suddenly, he heard the "creak, creak" sound of wood friction. The Young Commander was momentarily startled as the usually closed water gate suddenly flung open! Hundreds of enemies, aboard their boats, surged out. The warriors from Tarasco waved their weapons, their faces filled with murderous intent.


    The first dozen small boats shot forth like arrows, reaching them in the blink of an eye. Each was loaded with two sailors, six warriors, their gleaming Copper Spears already raised, ready to thrust. Following them were two side-by-side large boats, each carrying ten sailors, thirty warriors. One of the large boats was particularly ornate, with a platform adorned with a crocodile head built on top, where a robust, round-faced warrior sat, his Spear Flag directly aimed at His Highness¡¯s boat.


    Bertade turned pale with shock. He reacted the fastest, pressing His Highness down onto the small boat, and turned his head to shout urgently to the rowing guards.


    "Go, let¡¯s go!"

 Chapter 312 - 163 Pursuit

    The rain drizzled, and the shouts shook the heavens. The water gate of the Rivermouth fortress, like a hive of wasps, still relentlessly spewed forth large and small boats, and in the blink of an eye, nearly a hundred vessels appeared.


    Upon the gorgeous large boat, the round-faced noble Ospe grinned, revealing the excitement of a hunter. He pointed with his Spear Flag and bellowed.


    "Speed up the charge, capture that tall warrior with the longbow! The captor will be rewarded with five chests of copper, and their rank will be raised by half a grade!"


    Hearing the command, the paddlers on the large boat¡¯s faces turned red as they rowed with all their might. The large boat picked up speed once more, surging forth like a pouncing crocodile. Ahead, a pack of more than ten small boats, like wolves, had already pounced on the edge of the Mexica skiffs.


    On the Mexica skiff, the trusted aides rowed fiercely, and the slender canoe gradually sped up. Bertade quickly moved to the bow, protecting His Highness behind him. Then, he stood tall, took his war club from behind his back, and unblinkingly fixed his gaze on the three Tarasco skiffs that had closed to within five meters.


    On the nearest skiff, a Tarasco captain stood at the front, his face breaking into a grin at the thought of capturing wealth. He held a three-meter-long copper spear high with both hands, and as the skiff drew close, he stabbed downwards with all his might, aiming straight for the tall warrior¡¯s chest.


    It was hard to dodge on the cramped boat. The Head Warrior¡¯s eyes blazed as he instantly struck out with his war club in his right hand, accurately hitting the wooden shaft and deflecting the incoming copper spear to the left. Then, he reached out with his left hand, as quick as lightning, and grabbed the deviated shaft, before letting out a mighty roar, and forcefully pulling it.


    "Come!"


    The two small boats, mere meters apart, shook violently at the same time. The Tarasco captain found himself without a weapon, his balance off-kilter. Next, as he stumbled, an irresistible force hit him, accompanied by a soul-shaking bellow at his ear. His spirit jolted, and he was pulled into the water, the raging river hitting him square in the face. Before he could release his grip, the copper spear dragged him towards the edge of the Mexica skiff. In his panic, he looked up to find himself in the last moment of life, only to see a heavy war club coming down on his head, followed by a burst of severe pain and the sound of bones "cracking."


    Bertade crushed the enemy¡¯s neck with his club in the water, then raised his hand and hurled the war club forward viciously. With a "bang," a Tarasco warrior fell backward face-up. Then, the Head Warrior gripped the three-meter-long spear with both hands and thrust it swiftly forward. The spear pierced through the left chest, straight into the heart, instantly killing another enemy who was poised to attack.


    Bertade yanked back his spear, the blood spurting, staining the golden tip. He slightly sidestepped, evading the incoming copper spear, allowing it to tear a gash into his high-quality leather armor. Next, he thrust his own weapon at the enemy¡¯s chin, then sliced with precision. That warrior instantly went limp, his long spear clattering to the deck as he fell overboard, hand to his throat, his blood quickly dispersing in the turbulent water.


    In mere moments, four warriors lay dead, and the enemy on the first boat had lost their nerve. The remaining two warriors hastily turned to retreat, urging the paddler to depart with frantic shouts. Bertade stabbed again, plunging deeply into the back of the closest warrior. With a muffled cry of agony, the warrior fell forward with the long spear still embedded in him, the weapon stuck in his ribs, unable to be drawn out. The Head Warrior frowned slightly, then let go with both hands and stooped to pick up the backup war club on the skiff. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The paddler bent low to row, and the first skiff escaped quickly. The last Tarasco warrior fell back seated in the boat, gasping raggedly as he looked at his fallen comrades before him, heartsick. When he looked toward the Mexica skiff again, he saw the second and third Tarasco skiffs already speeding up, charging towards the boat full of "wealth."


    The two skiffs collided with force, the canoe shaking violently, the Mexica boat on the verge of capsizing. Then, the third Tarasco skiff coming from another direction hit with a "bang," fortuitously propping up the small boat. The three boats shook together for a moment, but amazingly all stabilized shortly after. Then, the warriors on all three vessels suddenly engaged in fierce combat.


    Xiulote crouched on the boat, tightly gripping the gunwale, riding out the worst of the shaking. Then, he picked up his war club and stood up to face the onslaught of enemies. The young warrior, holding the club in both hands, slightly tilted his body and unleashed a powerful side blow! The club, aided by the rotational force of his torso, struck precisely on the head of the nearest Tarasco warrior. One second the warrior was grinning like a predator seizing its prey, and the next second came a "bang," and his smile, along with his face, was smashed to pieces, as he toppled over, head twisted to the side.


    Xiulote had no time to watch his enemy die. He moved up close to the next aggressor, ducking slightly to avoid the short spear. Then, the young warrior hefted the war club and roared.


    "Die!"


    The meter-long club shot out vertically, carrying immense power, smashing directly into the enemy¡¯s face and shattering the nasal bones. The second warrior let out a pitiful howl, dropped the short spear, and covered his burst eyes with both hands as he stumbled back into his comrade.


    Xiulote swung again, crouching. Utilizing martial arts practiced over many years, he struck sooner than expected, accurately hitting the opposing warrior¡¯s knee. The enemy¡¯s copper spear missed its mark, and his left knee throbbed from the hit, buckling instantly. The young warrior didn¡¯t pause and smashed the other knee. The enemy lost all his balance, screaming in pain as he fell into the water, followed by a club striking his head.


    Xiulote took a deep breath, his strength temporarily spent from killing three men. A Tarasco warrior spotted an opportunity and snarled, his spear stabbing diagonally towards the young warrior, aiming fiercely for the vital area of the chest.

 Chapter 313 - 163 Chase_2

    The sound of the approaching wind buzzed in his ears, and Xiulote¡¯s extensive training kicked in. Instinctively, he sidestepped and raised his left arm to block. A copper spear skewered through the leather armor, slashed across his left arm, then grazed his chest before stopping at his right shoulder.


    Xiulote paid no attention to his wound. With his right shoulder, he pinned the copper spear, preventing the enemy from withdrawing it for another stab. Then, gripping the wood shaft with his left hand, he roared fiercely.


    "Come on!"


    The samurai opposite him wobbled, nearly toppling over. Then the samurai half-sank his body and exerted force simultaneously. For a moment, the two were caught in a stalemate across the long spear.


    Hearing their prince¡¯s angry shout, the trusted aides felt an urgent desperation. Three battle-hardened trusted aides, despite their injuries, finally took down their opponents. They then surged forward, swinging their weapons simultaneously, and smashed the enemy grappling with their prince into a bloody pulp.


    Finally, Xiulote could breathe a sigh of relief. Clutching the long spear, he collapsed onto the boat and glanced at Bertade. The Head Warrior had knocked down the remaining foes. Then, the Young Commander turned his head to look at his trusted aides who wanted to come closer to bandage his wounds.


    "Don¡¯t mind me! Keep paddling, don¡¯t stop!"


    In a brief moment, the attack by three small boats was dispersed, and the Mexica craft picked up speed again, fleeing towards the Lerma River to the north. Seeing the fate of the warriors in the lead, the more than ten Tarasco small boats behind hesitated, nudging closer at a slow pace. Several other Mexica boats also approached, fighting desperately to protect the royal vessel on either side.


    On the splendid greatboat, awe shone in Ospia¡¯s eyes. He watched as Bertade, armed with a spear, successively slew four men, then switched to a war club and swiftly killed three, loudly praising him.


    "Such an exceptional samurai! He should belong to me! Hurry, faster, all warriors paddle! Capture this longbow strongman and everyone will be rewarded with ten boxes of bronzed vessels!"


    The samurais on the boat cheered loudly and then obeyed the order, moving towards the sides of the boat, gradually joining the paddling ranks. Only two guards, holding shields and Short Spears, protected their Legion Commander on each side.


    The Legion Commander¡¯s greatboat surged forward, like a rampaging bear, mercilessly shoving aside the small boats entangled in battle, charging straight towards the Mexica craft at the forefront.


    Hearing the cheers, Xiulote looked in the direction of the sound and saw an exceptionally massive boat carrying thirty Tarasco warriors quickly closing in. He spotted the round-faced Nnobility waving the Spear Flag, trying to make out the shouts carried by the wind, faintly hearing, "exceptional, capture, archery, reward, bronze vessels..." Rage suddenly flared in the eyes of the Young Commander.


    Bertade scanned his surroundings; the Mexica boats were picking up speed, but some time was still needed to reach their maximum velocity. The large boat behind had already breached the rear defense line, rushing ever closer. Once the large boat collided with them, the thirty Tarasco warriors would surge aboard, leaving no chance of survival for those on the small boat.


    Bertade quickly surveyed the scene, his gaze eventually resting on the central part of the greatboat, where the round-faced Nnobility, wearing a purple helmet and waving the flag, had his eyes fixed on him, sparkling fiercely. The Head Warrior¡¯s gaze sharpened, then he tossed away his war club, drew his longbow from behind, and swiftly notched a copper arrow.


    Next, Bertade¡¯s eyes, as sharp as an eagle¡¯s, locked onto the enemy leader¡¯s helmet. He quickly and steadily pulled back his longbow, then suddenly released an arrow as swift as lightning.


    Ospia had been watching the actions of the greatbow warrior. As he saw him draw his bow, and notched an arrow at lightning speed, he sensed trouble. The "Crocodile" Nnobility glanced around and quickly crouched down, pulling over the closest guard to use as a shield.


    With a "whoosh," the long arrow emitted a sharp whistle as it shot through the air. It followed an almost straight trajectory, covering a distance of thirty meters, and with a "chit," impaled the terrified face, then with a "hiss," burst out from the back of the skull. Finally, with a crisp "bang," the bronze arrowhead struck Ospia¡¯s helmet, nearly puncturing the inlaid copper.


    Felling the impact against his helmet, the round-faced Nnobility was shocked to his core, terrified beyond belief. Years of battlefield experience made him instinctively pick up his shield to protect his face. Then again, with a "thud," a long arrow pierced the Wooden Shield, lodging in his shield-bearing left arm and fastening the arm to the shield.


    With the greatboat now within twenty meters of the small craft, the might of the Longbow was nearly unstoppable. Before reaching grappling distance, the greatbow warrior could still loose two more arrows! In rapid succession of thoughts, Ospia finally bellowed.


    "Escort! Escort! Raise your shield!!!"


    At the Legion Commander¡¯s shrill, hoarse scream, the rowing warriors quickly dropped their paddles, grabbed the shields from the ground, and hurriedly protected the esteemed noble in front of them. The greatboat¡¯s speed visibly decreased.


    The Head Warrior hesitated briefly, then gave up targeting the enemy leader hiding behind shields and human shields. Shifting his aim, he drew three arrows quickly and pulled the Greatbow only halfway. Then, the sharpshooting Head Warrior released a rapid trio of arrows at the lightly-clothed Paddlers, sending three tumbling to the sound.


    Xiuluo reacted swiftly. Ignoring his still-bleeding left arm, he too drew his Longbow, loosely pulling and aiming at the rowing Paddlers. At a distance of twenty meters, even on a swaying boat, the young samurai could still hit the enemy accurately. Long arrows penetrated the light clothing, either embedding in the Paddlers¡¯ chests or their paddling arms, causing them to howl in pain and tumble over.


    Xiuluo only loosed three arrows, and already ten Paddlers lay on the deck; the rest were the doing of the Head Warrior.


    Ospia hid behind the samurais¡¯ shields, peering through the gaps in the human wall, stunned by what he saw ahead. The Longbow sang out a trembling "hum" as the deadly arrows "swooshed" in, neatly taking lives, their heads embedding in the wooden deck, feathers still quivering. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 314 - 163 Chase_3

    "To think such a powerful longbow exists! In its presence, the life of a samurai is like a cave-dwelling blind fish, dead from the swish of the tail before even seeing the target. Terrifying, truly terrifying!"


    The legion commander, enduring the pain, muttered to himself. He hid behind the samurai¡¯s shield, allowing the speed of his boat to slow down as it gradually pulled away from the smaller boat in front. Then, he suddenly came to his senses, raised the Spear Flag with his good right arm, swiped half-circles to each side, and then pointed forcefully towards the small boat in the front.


    Behind the magnificent large boat, dozens of boats received the command. They accelerated, abandoning their entangled opponents, and rushed towards the foremost Mexica small boat. The remaining two or three Mexica small boats could not attend to their opponents either and quickly went to aid their lord.


    A red falcon, attracted by the shouts, soared through the wind and rain. It scanned with its sharp eagle eyes, seeing a small boat floating in the front, dozens of boats in hot pursuit, and two large boats, at a distance, following behind. It lowered its altitude, carefully watching the oars moving on the boats, staring at the shining spear tips, and the occasional falling figures.


    A sharp arrow "whooshed" under the falcon, startling it. Its dynamic vision traced the arrow back to the bow of a small boat, where a bipedal beast covered its throat, swaying as it fell into the river. The falcon smelled the blood in the air, sensed the deep danger, and flapped its wings, soaring into the high clouds. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    On the river surface, the foremost Tarasco small boat immediately slowed down, its samurai onboard scrambling to check their fallen captain. When they confirmed the location of the arrow, a deep chill arose in their hearts. The messenger of the Moon Goddess on the boat ahead could easily take the samurai to the Netherworld! Soon, the sailors and samurai slowed down, quietly retreating behind the other small boats.


    Observing the enemy struck by the arrow in the neck, watching the enemy ships being repulsed again, Xiulote set down his longbow, nodding in satisfaction. In the instants of life and death combat, he gradually calmed his mind, and his archery unexpectedly made a breakthrough. The young samurai¡¯s left arm had been bandaged. It was merely a superficial flesh wound and, despite being painful, did not affect the fighting. He looked ahead and behind, his trusted aides¡¯ faces flushed, having rowed vigorously for over a half hour, estimating that they had covered about ten miles. The rendezvous fleet should be just ahead.


    Soon after, another small boat approached rapidly, coming within twenty meters in an instant. Xiulote spat, ready to notch an arrow again. "Whoosh, whoosh", two successive arrows flew past him, each striking a samurai in the cheek, making them flip over and instantly die. Bertade turned around, nodded with a smile at the young samurai, his lips curving into a serene confidence.


    Xiulote paused for a moment, then continued to notch an arrow. This time, he aimed at an enemy boat thirty meters away, waited a moment, and in the brief steadiness of the small boat, he released the arrow, hitting the enemy¡¯s chest. The samurai incredulously looked down, watched as blood seeped from the pierced Leather Armor, then uttered a few words before collapsing backward.


    The young samurai looked toward the Head Warrior, and both burst out laughing. At the edge of life and death, they displayed immense fighting spirit, their pride burning in their chests! True samurai never fear death but blossom fearlessly!


    Sixty meters away on the large boat, the round-faced noble burst out in admiration as he watched the two Longbow Warriors on the small boat, who were laughing loudly.


    "Excellent, very excellent! To think you killed dozens of my men, truly extraordinary samurai! Indeed fitting for my Crocodile family crest!"


    The round-faced noble¡¯s wound had been dressed, and although his left arm was in extreme pain, his heart was filled with exhilaration from witnessing the splendid battle, filled with a longing for outstanding warriors. While he was still marveling, another large boat had already drawn near.


    A blood-covered Tarasco captain bent close, kneeling on one knee, and presented a longbow with both hands.


    "Respected commander, this is a longbow taken from another small boat. These Mexica samurai are incredibly tenacious! Most fought to the death, a few jumped into the water to escape, and two captives even killed themselves. We did not capture any alive."


    The commander nodded, continuing his praises.


    "Excellent, indeed only brave samurai can lead troops that fear not death!"


    Then, the legion commander took the longbow, placing it across his lap. He then carefully stroked it with his right hand, lost in thought.


    Shortly after, a scouting small boat hurriedly returned, bringing new information.


    "Commander, the Mexica reinforcements have appeared on the Lerma River to the northeast, far in the distance, about a hundred boats."


    He looked toward the northeast river. Amid the rocking wind and rain, many black dots flowed down, rushing towards them, estimated to engage in quarter an hour. He then looked at the front sixty meters away, where the Mexica small boat¡¯s samurai were still notching and shooting arrows, rowing desperately, even faster than fishermen from Michoac¨¢n!


    Regretfully sighing amidst the surroundings, he noted the few boats docked in the fortress, with only about a hundred boats at his disposal and many warriors lost. The "Crocodile" commander pressed on his wounded left arm, feeling the stabbing pain to the bone, and finally declared loudly.


    "Sound the conch, all forces retreat!"


    The magnificent large boat slowly turned around. The round-faced noble leaned against the Crocodile¡¯s ornament, his eyes widened, taking one last look ahead. The two Mexica samurai, one big and one small, still fiercely engaged in battle, their arrows shooting like meteors. He watched with admiration for a long time, leaving a remark in the wind.


    "To have such fierce warriors among Mexica commoners! Someday, I shall have you all under my command!"

 Chapter 315 - 164: The Monarch and His Loyal Subject Get Along Well

    The heavy rain poured down, washing the blood-stained leather armor, wiping the damaged small boats, and falling into the merciless river water, stirring up faint red ripples.


    The world dimmed for a moment. The somber skies made the birds take cover, silencing the forest. Only a robust red falcon soared in the heavy rain, beating its powerful wings, alone in the vast sky. It circled the battling bipedal beasts and flew to the wooden fort on the north coast, surveying its territory. When it took flight again, riding the long wind beneath it, the skirmish on the river had subsided, and the sound of rain faded into silence.


    Hundreds of Mexica boats hurriedly approached, surrounding the central revered figure, standing solemnly in the dwindling drizzle, waiting in silence.


    Xiulote stood at the prow, his left arm wrapped in a bleeding bandage, watching the departing Tarasco fleet. His eyes were a restrained crimson, the boiling intent to kill surging in his chest, filled with the determination to avenge his trusted aides. The young commander surveyed the number of small boats, glanced at the blood-soaked Bertade, then stared toward the large group of enemies to the southwest. The desire for battle and the realism of strategy fiercely clashed in his mind, like the wind-beaten river water.


    After a long pause, the wind and rain gradually lessened. Xiulote raised his head, looked toward the incoming red falcon, let out a hearty long howl to the sky, and then suddenly raised his hand and fired an arrow.


    The war arrow "whooshed" through the sky, like lightning racing forth, piercing the overcast clouds and descending abruptly. The red falcon, proudly circling, startled by the howl, briefly hesitated. Then, the arrow soared above, grazing its gray-red feathers, plucking a long plume. The red falcon cried out in pain, "Ki!". Then, it swiftly spread its wings, abandoning the territory it had held for many years, fleeing hastily toward Cuitzeo Lake to the southwest, away from these dangerous beasts.


    Xiulote watched the departing raptor, the shot only a hair¡¯s breadth away, almost missing the title of a master archer. Moments later, he looked toward his samurai awaiting orders and suddenly burst into laughter.


    "The red falcon escapes to the southwest, it is the will of the Chief Divine! The Tarasco people will lose their fortress, frantic like birds abandoning their homes! Glorious, glorious, to slay twenty warriors in one battle, a samurai should indeed be like this! Bertade, you killed about forty Tarasco warriors, didn¡¯t you?!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily. He looked at the Head Warrior, his war armor soaked in blood, recalling the fervent battle just moments before.


    Bertade was taken aback. He had intended to explain that among the enemies he shot, there were a dozen paddlers in simple clothes, and that the victory relied on the shooting advantage during the pursuit. Then, the Head Warrior caught the Young Commander¡¯s gaze, pondered for a moment, and a look of realization appeared on his tranquil face.


    "Your Highness, exactly so! I have slain forty warriors, and still have strength left in my hands! Before the mighty Mexica Eagle, Tarasco men are nothing but wild rabbits awaiting slaughter, bowing their heads to death, easily defeated!"


    Hearing this, the Young Commander laughed out loud. He looked around at the smiling faces of the samurai, then again at his loyal Head Warrior, and proclaimed loudly.


    "Bertade, you are the Sun God¡¯s sacred eagle Cuauhtli, the foremost warrior among tens of thousands! This battle, the War God has blessed you, granting you divine power when fighting against the followers of foreign gods! From now on, you are the ¡¯Eagle Head Warrior,¡¯ anointed by the divine, a status as venerable as the Divine Descendants!"


    Hearing the King¡¯s words, the Head Warrior showed a shocked expression. He was overwhelmed with turbulent emotions, and a flood of feelings rushed to his heart, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. He understood what those words meant. If the King¡¯s reward was acknowledged by everyone, with the anointment of the chosen by the divine, he would no longer need to care about his commoner origins, having the qualifications to command the nobility¡¯s armies.


    Training in Martial Arts for thirty years, on the battlefield for twenty, his childhood dreams have been realized in this moment!


    Bertade¡¯s mind raced, touched by the King¡¯s timely and clever choice. Immediately, he knelt on one knee, bowed his head, and saluted deeply.


    Xiulote laughed again. With a clear gaze, he swept over all the samurai present, observing their faces showing respect, surprise, contemplation, or envy. The Young Commander took note in silence. Then, he looked at the dissipating clouds and slowly raised his longbow.


    "In the name of the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! I, the Divine Bloodline of Mexica, the Fourth Level High Priest of the High Priesthood, the foremost heir to the King, Xiulote, on behalf of the Chief Divine, reward the most devout warrior of the gods, Bertade from Tenochtitlan, conferring upon him the title of ¡¯Eagle Head Warrior!¡¯ From now on, he shall be the bravest sacred eagle under the Chief Divine, fighting until death for the glory of the Chief Divine!"


    With the proclamation of the young priest, the drizzle came to a halt. The first ray of sunlight broke through the layers of fog, falling from the darkened sky as if the Sun God had revealed itself, eliciting exclaims from all the warriors.


    Xiulote observed the brightening sky, nodded to himself as the timing was perfect. Then, he lifted his longbow above his head, letting the sunlight fall upon the Greatbow, as if blessed by the Chief Divine. The young priest called out the god¡¯s name three times, then solemnly handed the longbow to the kneeling Head Warrior.


    "With the Chief Divine¡¯s blessing! Bertade, you are now a divinely chosen warrior, to battle for the Sun God!"


    Xiulote spoke thus.


    "To dedicate everything to the Chief Divine! Your Highness, I will protect the deity of my heart and ensure the sun rises to its zenith, forever shining upon the world!"


    Bertade responded thus.


    The sunlight fell, illuminating the faces of the two men, outlining the smiles at the corners of their mouths. Between the young King and the veteran Samurai, the allegiance ceremony took place for the second time, on a small boat by the Lerma River.


    With the oath-taking complete, they skipped certain rituals. Xiulote stepped forward, raising the Head Warrior¡¯s right hand that held the bow, facing the many Samurais and officials.


    "My brave Samurais, the Chief Divine blesses the courageous! The war of the gods is destined to triumph! The Mexica are fated to conquer the world!" sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Under the Young Commander¡¯s inspirational speech, the Samurais witnessing the miracle in their eyes regained their morale and cheered in unison. They raised their thunderous chants to the clearing skies once more.


    "Divine war, conquest! Divine war, conquest!..."


    Xiulote smiled, listening to the passionate shouts of the Samurais, and nodded slightly.


    His mind raced with thoughts, contemplating the right person for the task. How could he spread the legendary battle record of Bertade and the divine manifestation of the Sun God throughout the army... After a while, he thought of Etalik, the commander of the Temple Guards, an experienced old warrior.


    The sunlight enveloped the boat, forming a sacred halo around it. Xiulote nodded and whispered a few instructions. Immediately, a dozen small boats broke away from the fleet and headed towards the fort near the Rivermouth, cautiously searching for any possible survivors. Then, the Young Commander raised his hand high and pointed northeast; the Samurais roared in response. The fleet set sail once again, heading towards the Wooden Fort on the North Coast.


    Before departing, Xiulote took one last look at the direction of the Rivermouth fort, making up his mind in determination. He recalled the height of the stone walls of Stone City, the width and design of the water gates, and his thoughts grew clearer. Then, he remembered the round-faced nobleman from the Tarasco¡¯s great boat who had relentlessly pursued them, and anger rose within him once more. The young warrior swung his War Club fiercely, making a silent oath.


    Nearly a hundred boats sped along, leaving the deadly battlefield behind, sailing toward the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s Wooden Fort. Bertade stood by the monarch¡¯s side with a complex expression, his thoughts tumultuous. After a long pause, he spoke softly.


    "Your Highness, as you said. The battle between Samurais is but a mere splattering of blood three feet away, bloodshed five steps apart. Although filled with lofty aspirations, experiencing the thrills of life and death, what is decided is merely the fate of a moment, of a place, of a few dozen people at most. Even with the bravery of the Great General Totec, it is impossible to turn the tide.


    Nevertheless, battle between Commanders stretches across a hundred miles, spanning the heavens and the earth. To capture one city in battle, to annihilate one country in ten wars, to lead thousands into battle, this is the making of a hero.


    And when Monarchs clash, their gaze spans thousands of miles, their hearts encompassing a century. Every word and deed become the law of the land, every plan sets the great trends of the world. To embrace all like the earth, to hang high like the sun in the sky¡ªthis is your true destiny!"


    Hearing Bertade¡¯s advice, Xiulote paused briefly, closely observing the Head Warrior¡¯s weathered face. After a moment, he burst into laughter and grasped the Head Warrior¡¯s arm affectionately, then began to speak warmly.


    "Bertade, you have always been by my side, yet you still manage to impress me! Today, your rescue has taught me to recognize your ability; I can entrust you with great matters... I admire your bravery, but I cherish your wisdom even more!


    The eagle soars high, its ambitions grand, needing strong and full feathers, but also clear eyes to see everything. Between us lies a bond of monarch and subject, as harmonious as the wind and the dragon!"


    Bertade looked into Xiulote¡¯s eyes, as if trying to peer into the young monarch¡¯s heart. Although he did not comprehend the meaning of the last sentence, he could feel the sincerity and esteem in the words. He knelt silently on his knees for a moment, offering his hair once again, completing the final step of the allegiance ceremony.


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was solemn. He took out the Short Dagger he carried, gripped the Head Warrior¡¯s hair, and gently cut off a lock, tossing it into the surging river.


    "Bertade, I have heard your counsel! I am now the Commander-in-Chief of the great army, and will no longer act with the valor of a mere foot soldier. The Samurai Xiulote has already been carried away with the great river!"


    With that, Xiulote swung the Short Dagger fiercely, cutting off half of his own hair and casting it into the mighty Lerma River. The tumultuous river waters flowed westward, taking away the symbols of the young warrior, towards the endless Pacific Ocean. It would also return to the distant homeland one day.


    Then, the Young Commander raised his right hand to the westward-flowing river, and swore aloud to the heavens.


    "Bertade, I swear by my ancestors¡¯ names! Should I one day become King, you shall be Marshal! The waters of the Lerma River shall not run dry, nor shall the bond between monarch and subject ever end. In this life, we shall stand by each other with loyalty and integrity, and never betray one another!"


    Hearing this, Bertade stood in a daze, his eyes unexpectedly moist. Suddenly remembering the moment Totec died, he reached out and took the King¡¯s Short Dagger. Then, the Head Warrior, above the great river, slowly cut off all his black hair, deeply slashed both sides of his cheeks, and calmly handed back the Blood Dagger, remaining solemn and silent throughout.


    This was the tradition of the Mexica. To cut off one¡¯s hair for loyalty, to mark one¡¯s face with an oath, to serve the Divine King, so it was!

 Chapter 316 - 165 Sand Table and Preparation

    The June rain was like the rapid beat of drums, urging on the busy work among the fields. The corn had grown a foot tall, the green beans were stretching out their tender branches, and the pumpkins were sprouting new shoots, slowly spreading across the ground. The ample rainfall nourished the crops¡¯ root systems, and the warm sunshine gave the plants the energy to grow. Thus, when the scorching sun first appeared in the sky after the rains of July, the earth was already a scene of flourishing life.


    The sweltering sunlight shone over both banks of the Lerma River. Mexica samurai emerged from their narrow dwellings, joyfully praying for the grace of the Sun God. They took out their long-damp clothes and blankets to hang in every corner of the camp, allowing the sun to dry them. Garments of different ranks in red, yellow, black, and white turned the simple wooden fort into a colorful street. The quartermasters also took out wet corn cakes and grains, spreading them out in the open area at the center of the fort, trying to minimize the loss of food during the rainy season. The solemn fort turned once more into the grain society of a village.


    Outside the open wooden fort was a fence set apart for a specific purpose. Under the strict guard of the samurai, the gunpowder craftsmen accompanying the army set up wooden tents in the shade to dry the damp gunpowder. The faint smell of the volcano drifted with the wind, and amidst the swaying grass, many grass snakes avoided and fled far away.


    In the spacious wooden cabin at the center of the fort, Xiulote sat with his legs hugged, closely examining the sand table before him, the result of his efforts over several days.


    The sand table was small, one meter in length and width. A "river" made of fine sand traversed it from east to west, and at the southwest, it branched into a "lake." Between the river and the lake was a "fortress" fashioned from clay, adorned with little wooden gates, with a shallow stream on the eastern side, representing the Rivermouth Fortress.


    The young commander pondered, first pinching out a camp on the level ground east of the "fortress" and then contemplating filling in the castle¡¯s moat. He measured the distance from the fortress walls to the riverbank and frowned. Next, he made another camp in the open space south of the fortress, thought for a moment, and placed two more strongholds even further south as a precaution.


    Xiulote then turned his gaze west, looking at the miniature wooden "water gate" and the narrow channel between the river and the lake. He again corrected the positions of the channel and the fortress¡¯s western wall based on his memory. After that, he placed a tiny wooden boat on the channel, measuring the distance from the wall to the boat, and fell into silent contemplation.


    After a while, he mimicked the movement of the boat. The wooden boat slowly moved forward from the start of the firing range until it reached the water gate. He calculated a time in his head, then introduced another boat to protect the water gate under the support of the castle, countering the first boat. The young commander again calculated for a moment and then deeply furrowed his brow.


    At that moment, the voice of a guard rang out from outside the wooden cabin, along with an equally courteous reply.


    "To the valiant Head Eagle Warrior, Ters extends his greetings!"


    "Ters, there¡¯s no need for such formalities. The light of the Sun God shines upon us all! I have a matter to report to His Highness."


    The wooden door creaked open, and the sunlight from outside penetrated in, illuminating the dimly lit cabin. A tall figure wearing Leather Armor and a Beast Helmet walked in.


    Xiulote looked up and waved at Ters, who was smiling goofily. The young samurai from the Holy City bowed his head in earnest respect and carefully closed the wooden door behind him. The once young boy had now become His Highness, and he was now the guard at His Highness¡¯s door.


    The young commander then smiled warmly at the fully-armed Bertade.


    "Bertade, the weather is so hot, hurry up and take off that outfit!"


    The Head Warrior nodded, removed his Beast Helmet, revealing a shorn head and a face with tattooed features, fearsome as a fierce beast. Next, he took off the Leather Armor to display the long robe underneath, completely soaked in sweat.


    "Your Highness, these past two days I have taken a squad of Jaguar nobility warriors to investigate Otapan City to the north. The Otomi have nearly completed their spring plowing, and it seems they are mustering their forces, starting to mobilize the militia."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and spoke slowly.


    "The Otomi cannot be neglected; the warriors must be on high alert. Have two envoys sent again to condemn the Otomi for their breach of trust. They accepted food from the Alliance and agreed to a peace treaty, but they were only going through the motions. They didn¡¯t truly move south to plunder the Tarasco villages before spring plowing! Let¡¯s see how they respond.


    Furthermore, invite Otapan City-State separately to join the campaign against the Tarasco. Land, as well as luxurious Featherwear, Gold and Silver, gemstones, and even trade in foodstuffs can be offered to them.


    I am thinking about whom I met during the last negotiations, Jiowar from Otapan City, wasn¡¯t it? Have the envoys visit him personally in my name. Also, I wonder if the old Priest Olte is in Guamare or Otapan. If he¡¯s in the Ototpan Mountain City, they could gauge his opinion as well."


    Bertade nodded in obedience. He pondered for a moment, then spoke.


    "Your Highness, I will arrange for the envoys immediately after my return. However, the Otomi are like grass in the wind, faltering and unpredictable. They always give lip service to the Alliance. I fear it will be difficult to reach a genuine agreement. Even if an agreement were reached, the army must not relax its vigilance. They are like lurking Coyotes, ready to pounce and bite at a vital spot."


    The young Commander laughed heartily.


    "Bertade, you¡¯re quite right. After the spring plowing is finished, the Otomi have the ability to mobilize for war, and they can no longer be trusted. I am only trying to delay for two weeks, hold the wooden fort, and wait for the eastbound fleet to return, bringing a large force of reinforcements from the Holy City.


    "Once Annatri¡¯s Naval Forces return, cutting off both banks of the Lerma River, the Tarasco will find it difficult to attack from the north. And when the new Legion arrives, the Alliance will take advantage in military strength, with the autumn harvest also approaching. At that time, we can use the army to threaten the Otomi¡¯s harvest, forcing them to demonstrate their sincerity in peace with the Alliance with tangible actions!"


    Bertade smiled knowingly, his tattooed face trembling with a touch of solemnity. Then, he glanced toward the southern window and continued speaking.


    "The Tarasco Naval Forces to the south are very active. Their scouts have repeatedly appeared around the three wooden forts, often making provocative and aggressive gestures. The samurai within the forts are eager for battle, finding it hard to restrain themselves."


    Xiulote thought for a moment and then nodded slightly.


    "Ever since the rumors of the Sun God¡¯s blessing spread, the samurai¡¯s morale has been boosted, and they are eager for battle. Such fighting spirit should not be suppressed but guided. Our current strategy is to maintain a defensive stance; we should not actively move southward...


    Therefore, let¡¯s send different squads of a hundred men each day to engage with Tarasco¡¯s scouts in battle. For scout warfare, there¡¯s no need to take prisoners; military achievements will be judged solely by the heads they bring back! Then, evaluate the performance of all squads involved in the skirmish and reward the leading teams, bestowing upon them honorable titles for their valor in combat!


    Yes, this could serve as a psychological refuge for the samurai. Perhaps I should also modify the rules of the ballgame courts to provide some daily entertainment activities."


    At this point, the Young Commander took out paper and pen and jotted down the words "basketball" and "football." He thought for a bit and added "horn push" and "tug of war," and with the existing games of javelin throwing, archery, and martial combat, these would make up the Mexica¡¯s heptathlon.


    Bertade nodded and accepted the order. He looked at the sand table on the ground, and a flash of admiration crossed his face once again. Sometimes, he would wholeheartedly thank the Sun God for blessing the Mexica with such a divinely enlightened king, who possessed wisdom in all things and inventiveness in all aspects.


    "Your Highness, the rivermouth fortress has a western water gate, and the western wall controls the rivermouth, blocking the Navigation Forces¡¯ move south. This fortress cannot be besieged. It can receive a continuous flow of reinforcements and supplies from along the shores of Lake Cuitzeo."


    Watching the sand table, the Head Warrior analyzed slowly, waiting for His Highness¡¯s far-sighted strategy.


    Xiulote nodded in agreement.


    "That¡¯s true! The rivermouth fortress can only be assaulted, not besieged. If we strike, it needs to be swift, the quicker the better. The site has crisscrossing rivers, soft soil, and abundant groundwater. The main army can¡¯t dig tunnels, nor use gunpowder to blast the walls. Of course, we don¡¯t have miners skilled in excavation."


    Faced with the concept of new warfare tactics, Bertade seemed enlightened. He was often by His Highness¡¯s side, able to constantly learn and keep up with the young thinker¡¯s intellect, providing timely suggestions.


    "Digging tunnels, using gunpowder to blast walls... Your Highness, Tarasco¡¯s seasoned miners can excavate copper mines; Ezpan is one such experienced miner. Once the main army advances into the Patzcuaro Lake region, we can gather civilians, pooling together the experienced elderly miners to perfect Your Highness¡¯s tunnel warfare tactics."


    Hearing this suggestion, Xiulote laughed heartily; his thoughts briefly drifted before he refocused on the topic at hand.


    "Before we attack, three preparations are necessary. The first is to find an opportunity to severely damage the main force of the Tarasco Naval Forces, aiming to destroy as many enemy ships as possible."


    At this point, the Young Commander paused briefly, his train of thought becoming clearer. He chose not to elaborate and continued speaking.


    "Second is to concentrate our forces to establish a significant advantage and achieve a breakthrough as soon as possible. The autumn harvest is a critical juncture; we cannot delay past harvest time and give the enemy a chance to muster on a large scale. Hmm, I will send another envoy to the northern general, Osellor, requesting reinforcements. And the military forces from the Capital City must also be transported here as quickly as possible. It takes a month for the ship convoy to make a round trip, able to bring tens of thousands of samurai and three months¡¯ worth of provisions for ten thousand men. I need to plan the transportation schedule meticulously."


    Xiulote pondered in his mind and noted "transportation" on paper, then smiled faintly.


    "Third is the preparation of siege machinery, forging the appropriate siege equipment. Bertade, how is the manufacturing of the three devices I previously ordered coming along?" Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Head Warrior took a moment to reflect, recalling what he had seen at the craftsmen¡¯s before his patrol, and slowly nodded.


    "Your Highness, the movable light catapult has been researched for nearly a month and has just been completed. We have yet to test the load and range of its ammunition. The light shield car, which covers the archers, is relatively simple and can now be deployed in battle. As for the seven-meter wooden water gate which you requested to be built after the reconnaissance, the craftsmen have only partially reconstructed it; more work is needed."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote laughed with satisfaction.


    "Excellent! The light catapult launches paper fireballs wrapped with gunpowder, not requiring high demands for load and range. The light shield car can be as simple as possible; the key is mass production. There¡¯s no need for the water gate to be fully reconstructed; I just want to test how it can be effectively destroyed!"


    Saying this, the Young Commander stood up tall. He patted the Head Warrior¡¯s shoulder affably and exclaimed with a loud laugh.


    "The sun shines brightly today, a rare auspicious day indeed. Come, accompany me to see these siege engines!"

 Chapter 317 - 166: Siege Weapons and the Southern Kingdom

    The sun blazed fiercely as Xiulote, wearing a lightweight robe, passed through the alley where clothes were hung to dry, headed toward the north gate of the Wooden Fort. Bertade donned his Leather Armor again, summoned Coles and other guards, and followed closely behind His Highness. Along the way, samurai continuously saluted, shouting "Your Highness" and "Holy Eagle Head Warrior."


    The Wooden Fort was limited in size, so the Young Commander had recently established a new camp outside the north gate for the research and development of siege machinery, which also served as a support for defense. As he stepped into the camp, the busy craftsmen saluted in turn, each presenting their latest progress.


    The Light Catapult was about two and a half meters tall, and its rotating barrel was correspondingly shortened. It had a triangular stable support at its base, with a width of less than two meters and a length just over two meters. Generally, it was a proportionally scaled-down version of the Human-Powered Catapult Type One, with the overall weight being only about four or five tenths of the original. As such, it could be carried by several civilians and easily loaded onto a large boat and transported to the opposite side of the Lerma River.


    Xiulote stood by quietly observing. The craftsmen quickly secured the Light Catapult to the ground, taking only a quarter of an hour. Then, they loaded a pumpkin-sized paper ball filled with ten kilograms of sand into the pouch on the long axis of the barrel. Six or seven gunners took their places, grasping the ropes connected to the short axle with both hands, looking towards His Highness not far away.


    With a wave of His Highness¡¯ large hand and a command, the gunners shouted in unison, pulling forcefully. The tip of the barrel rose, and the paper ball instantly reached a height of four meters, then was thrown at a slightly inclined angle, tracing a long parabola, and landing beyond the 120-step mark. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote personally went to check the landing spot of the paper ball, memorized it, then ordered everyone to continue. The more than ten-kilogram paper balls traced varying arcs, with the range remaining stable between 110 and 140 steps. The Young Commander pondered for a moment, then used a wooden stick to draw the parabola on the ground, calculating the height of the paper ball¡¯s flight.


    A moment later, Xiulote erased the drawings on the muddy ground with his foot, nodding slightly in satisfaction. As long as the Light Catapult could be advanced within ninety steps of the city wall, the Paper Fireballs could be thrown onto the six-meter-high walls. At this distance, as long as the operators wore sturdy Leather Armor and helmets, the enemy¡¯s stone bows and arrows could not cause serious injury. The only problem was that the accuracy could not be guaranteed, and the landing points were all up to divine blessing.


    The Young Commander praised the craftsmen a few times, ordering them to accelerate production. He then turned his attention to the Light Shield Car.


    The front end of the Light Shield Car was a thick wooden board used as a shield, the middle was a small wooden platform for Archers to stand and shoot, the rear end was a long wooden handle for pushing, and at the very bottom were two simple wooden wheels. The front wooden shield was finger-thick, about two meters wide, and about the height of a person. The upper part of the wooden shield had three shooting openings, which could simultaneously protect three Longbow Warriors shooting. The long handles had four grips, and by bending their bodies slightly, two people could push the manned shield car forward.


    Overall, this type of Light Shield Car was essentially a two-wheeled cart loaded with shields.


    The Shield Car was a long-established siege weapon. Even a hundred years later, in the face of light cannon fire, the Heavy Shield Car still performed reasonably well. The Tarasco people had neither heavy crossbows nor firearms, so the front of the Light Shield Car did not need to be reinforced with leather or metal, nor needed to be filled with bulletproof mud.


    Xiulote took out a Longbow and shot several times from forty steps away. Afterwards, he carefully examined the depth to which the War Arrows penetrated the wood, nodding in approval.


    "Mass produce the shield cars, the shields do not need to be so thick, they can be slightly simplified. I will allocate a batch of captive civilians here, we must produce at least two hundred cars within a month!"


    Upon hearing this, the head of the craftsmen knelt on the ground, nodding in agreement.


    Lastly, Xiulote checked the replica Water Gate. The wooden Water Gate was only half completed, and its thickness was increased according to the standard design. He first let the samurai chop at it with Bronze Axes, and the dull "dut dut" sound followed. After a while, the Young Commander slightly shook his head. Then, he had the samurai take out chisels and Stone Hammers to destroy key joints, calculating the time in his mind, yet still shaking his head repeatedly.


    After a moment of contemplation, the Young Commander called over the steward of the Gunpowder, giving a few instructions. Soon, the Gunpowder Craftsmen brought hundreds of kilograms of well-preserved Gunpowder, sealed it beside the Water Gate, and carefully ignited the long fuse before quickly running away.


    After a long moment, under the tense gaze of everyone, a loud "boom" of an explosion suddenly occurred, shattering wood and mud flying about. Fierce flames rose from the exploded Water Gate, sending plumes of black smoke into the air. The heat wave swept over, bringing a pungent smell, forcing everyone to step back. The fiery blaze of the explosion continued for a full quarter hour, finally beginning to diminish.


    Two quarters of an hour later, Xiulote called over five brave Samurai, instructing them to wear water-soaked Cotton Armor and wield huge Stone Hammers to approach. The "bang bang" of loud impacts was followed by the "snap crack" of breaking sounds, as the still burning wooden door abruptly completely fractured, then collapsed into pieces.


    Seeing this, Xiulote let out a hearty laugh. As he watched the charred wood pieces flying about and sparks scattering, he finally felt somewhat confident! Behind him, Bertade also displayed a joyful smile.


    The five samurai then reported back. Their faces were blackened with soot, and even their hair had been singed by the flames. The Young Commander loudly praised them a few times, then instructed the samurai to rest in the southern Wooden Fort. Afterward, he turned around, gazing towards the southern bank of the Rivermouth Fortress, his thoughts drifting far away.

 Chapter 318 - 166: Siege Weapons and the Southern Kingdom_2

    "The Naval Forces will not return for another two weeks, bringing with them reinforcements and supplies, as well as the latest news from the Capital City. The Southern Army must have already set out, but who knows what their situation is now..."


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze remained to the south, over the vast Lerma River, beyond the unknown Lake Region, all the way to the heart of the southern Kingdom.


    The golden sunlight poured down from the sky, casting brilliant ripples on Lake Patzcuaro. From the villages around the Lake Region, thousands of canoes arrived in a ceaseless flow, transporting the conscripted supplies and Militia. Then, the massive fleet split into two groups, one heading north and the other south.


    The sunlight fell on people¡¯s faces, revealing varied expressions. The Tarasco Samurai, in charge of management, barked out orders, urging the sailors and Militia to quicken their pace, their faces stern and detached. Upon hearing the commands, the sailors rowed with all their might, their faces unable to conceal their exhaustion. They had been called upon by the Kingdom, busily transporting tens of thousands of soldiers and accompanying supplies for a whole month.


    The Militia on the boats clutched their newly issued Copper Spears, their faces filled with the unease of the unknowns of war, and with worries about the future of their villages. The Kingdom had issued strict conscription orders, and the Lake Region near the Capital City had been urgently mobilized. They had no choice but to leave behind their newly sown fields, following the fearsome Samurai to board boats bound for unknown destinations.


    "Where are we going to fight? When can we go home?" Weizti, with his head wrapped in a turban, asked in a low voice when the overseeing Samurai wasn¡¯t looking.


    On the rocking small boat, the young Militia faced each other, showing puzzled expressions. Chiwaco, a Militia in his forties, pulled out a yellowed cloth bag, deeply inhaled the fragrance of the herbs, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face. Then, his expression calmed, and he replied in an equally deep voice, S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We¡¯re heading north, to fight against a detachment of the Mexica. There aren¡¯t many enemies there, and their stone fortresses are very hard, better than going south. As for returning, at the earliest, it¡¯ll be a year!"


    "A year?!" Turban-wrapped Weizti exclaimed in shock, drawing the fierce gaze of the overseeing Samurai. All the Militia simultaneously bowed their heads and shut their mouths, like obedient turkeys. After a while, when the Samurai¡¯s gaze shifted, Weizti again spoke in a low voice,


    "In a little over a month, it will be time to harvest the pumpkins, then the corn and beans. Relying solely on the women and children at home is not enough. Are we really going to be gone for a year?"


    Old Militia Chiwaco scoffed, took another sniff of the herbs, and slowly said,


    "You¡¯re still thinking about the fields and harvest at home? Survive first! Militia like us are just fuel for the fire on the battlefield. The Samurai don¡¯t care about the lives of the Militia; they¡¯ll throw us where it¡¯s easiest to die. If you¡¯re captured by the cruel Mexica Jaguar, just wait to have your chest cut open and be sacrificed to the spirits!"


    Hearing the name Mexica Jaguar, the young Militia shuddered. Those terrifying figures wearing Beast Helmets and yellow Leather Armor had been spoken of in the Kingdom for a long time, equated to the Evil Demons in the legends from the western volcanoes.


    After a while, Weizti asked, trembling,


    "We have the protection of the Chief Divine of the Sun, the Earth Mother Goddess, and the Moon Goddess! We should be able to win this battle, right?"


    The many young militiamen all looked toward Chiwaco, the only old militiaman in the village who had survived the previous war.


    Chiwaco sighed and carefully put away the package of herbs in his hand. This was his treasure, which kept him calm on the battlefield and helped him find the most suitable escape routes. The old militiaman stood up, looked at the vast fleet to the north and south, then at the clearing sky, and heaved another deep sigh.


    "Alas! The pumpkins have just been planted, and the elders have mobilized so many militiamen that they can¡¯t even think about this year¡¯s harvest. Just look at the expressions on these samurais¡¯ faces¡ªthey look as if they¡¯re no different from dead men. This battle, I fear, is doubtful!"


    The sighs of the militiamen dissipated into the wind, their voices gradually inaudible. The breeze, however, never ceased; it drifted over the busy Lake Patzcuaro and into the rich and strong Copper Capital, Qinchongcan City. It blew past thousands of craftsmen forging weapons, over a thousand swordsmen wielding bronze axes, and through hundreds of nobles discussing in low voices, finally arriving at the religious center of the city¡ªthe magnificent and awe-inspiring circular pyramid, "House of Wind" Akatla.


    The five circular Akatla Pyramids were each several dozen meters high, built mainly of different sizes of granite stones, bonded together with corn mortar, standing upon the earth like Divine Mountains. The arrangement of the five pyramids roughly took the shape of a keyhole; their rear ends were stair-stepped pyramid platforms, connected by stone steps to facilitate the movement of priests back and forth.


    These platforms extended and converged to form a simple and solemn large platform. Above and below the large platform were complex stone longhouses, sacred dwellings where the Kingdom Priests lived.


    At the heart of each pyramid was a core pile of stones, around which layers were stacked to thicken the exterior. The outermost layer was decorated with spiral, circular, and square stone slabs, each engraved with exquisite murals of deities. At the top of the pyramids, different divine symbols were painted, encircled with vibrant patterns, in homage to the five gods that ruled the world.


    The three central Akatla Pyramids were the tallest and most ornate, with the additional height of their earthen bases making them forty to fifty meters high, symbolizing the Thrones of the Gods of the three Chief Divinities. They represented the sun¡¯s supreme deity of light, Curicaveri; the compassionate and protective Earth Mother Goddess Velavaperi; and Haratana, the Goddess overseeing life and death.


    Above the Akatla were temples for venerating the deities, along with pure gold statues, similar to the Great Temple in the Lake Capital City. But unlike the Great Temple, these temples housed many relics of former kings and nobility, and even some mummified remains, like burials on the ground, praying for eternal life after death¡ªa notion somewhat similar to that of Ancient Egypt.


    At this very moment, in front of the five temples on Akatla, huge bonfires were lit. The burning Sacred Fire, day and night unceasing, could be seen from the ninety-one towns and villages of the Lake Patzcuaro region¡ªsignifying the highest level of war mobilization!


    Under the magnificent temple¡¯s expanse, hundreds of priests of all ranks bustled before the circular pyramids, setting up awe-inspiring altars. They were preparing to hold a large-scale prayer ceremony, using captured Mexica sacrifices to seek Divine Revelations from the gods, praying for victory in the war.


    Near the sacred "House of Wind" Akatla were the sublime Royal Palace buildings, constructed on the hills of the "Palace of Wind" Akatlas. Akatlas, standing several stories high, was surrounded by over a dozen connected stone buildings. Inside these stone buildings were the loyal Royal Warriors, as well as tributes from various City-States. On the outermost side was a small house for spoils of war, storing the heads of fallen enemies and the weapons of these brave foes. In a corner of the house, a few black daggers glinted with cold light.


    From afar, the wind¡¯s symbolic Palace, expanded multiple times, was now as tall as the divine emblematic House of Wind. And on the overhanging viewing platform in front of the Royal Palace, the King of Tarasco, Su¡¯angua, was draped in yellow regal garments, his head adorned with a heavy Feather Crown, surrounded by gold and bronze decorations, an Envoy of the gods on earth.


    The Supreme King bowed his head slightly, his eyes flickering with contemplative light. He paid no attention to the priests¡¯ consoling prayers that filled the hearts of the people but looked gravely at the Mexica longbows in front of him and the matching Copper Arrows scattered on the ground.


    These formidable weapons, seized from battlefields in both the north and south, were like messengers of the moon Goddess, causing the valiant warriors of the Kingdom to die with ease!

 Chapter 319 - 167 Tarasco’s Response

    After the rain cleared, the dazzling sunlight poured down, bringing the Sun God¡¯s blessing. The golden dome of the Palace of Wind shone brightly, and the silverware in the great hall glittered with reflected light. On the viewing platform, a series of pleasant copper bells hung. A breeze blew by, and the golden bells swayed with the wind, playing a crisp bell tune.


    The sound of the bells awoke the King in contemplation. "Cazonci" Su¡¯angua lifted his head, revealing a young yet resolute face. He had ascended the throne just four years ago, and was only in his twenties this year. The young King looked behind him, where an elder in elegant garments held a wooden tablet, his expression solemn.


    "Jinjinni, have you tested the power of this Longbow?"


    In the Prepetcha language, Jinjinni means "Hummingbird," and the Capital City Qinchongcan is the "Land of the Hummingbird." The elegant elder, carrying such a noble traditional name, was clearly a member of the illustrious Nobility. In fact, he had been serving as the Chief Minister for over twenty years, under three generations of Kings.


    Chief Minister Jinjinni nodded seriously and responded in a grave tone.


    "Your Majesty, I have personally observed. The Mexica¡¯s new Longbow is extremely powerful, at least twice that of the Tlaxcalan Bow! Within a hundred and forty paces, it can lob projectiles and wound Light Armor Militia; within ninety paces, it can shoot and kill Leather Armor Samurai!"


    Hearing this result, Su¡¯angua¡¯s face showed shock as he abruptly stood up. As a Monarch who had been to battle, he calculated briefly and exclaimed in astonishment.


    "The stone forts in the North and South are mostly only three to four men high. To effectively kill enemy Leather Armor Samurai, Archers and stone-throwers must shoot at least from within fifty paces. Given the range and power of this Longbow, in front of the Mexica Longbow Warrior, won¡¯t the flatland fortresses be completely defenseless?!"


    Jinjinni watched the young King and nodded earnestly.


    "Yes, Your Majesty. Under the onslaught of the Mexica Longbow Warriors, the wooden forts along the northern bank of the Lerma River held out for only six or seven days before they all fell. And in the southern state of Xitaqualo, the outermost ring of stone forts has already been lost, and now they are struggling to defend the second ring of mountain forts. Under the attack of the fierce fish from the East, the lives of the Samurai and Militia are dying off like freshly spawned fish eggs."


    King Su¡¯angua¡¯s face was as somber as water.


    "What¡¯s the latest situation on the southern and northern fronts?"


    The elegant elder pondered for a moment before handing over the wooden tablet in his hand, and then began describing the terrain in detail. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Mexica¡¯s main army on the southern front has nearly thirty thousand Samurai, which is the enemy¡¯s main force. Being able to mobilize at this time of the year, they must be direct vassals of the Texcoco Lake District¡¯s Royal Family, the true core troops of the Mexica Alliance. Their Commander is Mexica¡¯s ¡¯Twilight of the End¡¯ Iskali, a seasoned old general. However, with the increasing size of the army, the southern front¡¯s Supreme Commander will inevitably be the new King ¡¯Water Sprite¡¯ Ahuizotl, who is also your defeated foe."


    Su¡¯angua lifted his head in recollection and nodded slowly after a long pause.


    "Four years ago, shortly after my ascension, Ahuizotl led an attack. I personally led the army to defend the state of Xitaqualo for months. Using the Naval Forces and Militia to repeatedly harass their supply lines, we finally repelled the Mexica. Then taking advantage of the momentum, we defeated several legions and secured a glorious victory! In fact, it was a tough battle; ¡¯Water Sprite¡¯ is no easy adversary!"


    At that, a wry smile appeared on Su¡¯angua¡¯s face.


    "Two years ago, Tizoc ascended the throne, and I was pleased for quite some time. Tizoc¡¯s coronation war chose the Otomi people, and our Kingdom was poised for action, halting the extermination campaign against the northern Tekos. I then led the troops again and clashed with Ahuizotl by the banks of the Lerma River, feeling profoundly the difficulty of the opponent. However, I did not expect that, just a few months later, Ahuizotl would murder his brother and ascend the throne in the Lake Capital City. The civil strife had barely ceased, and with barely half a year of recuperation, he had mobilized a huge army to attack. The Mexica people are indeed a bloodthirsty and warlike nation!"


    Upon hearing this, Jinjinni saluted with grave respect and spoke earnestly.


    "The Mexica people inherit chaos, honor strength above all, and revel in slaughter every day. They are the barbaric tribes that the Chief Divine, the Sun God, abhors, the evil demons from the western volcanoes! Not long after the Mexica¡¯s failed expedition against the Otomi, with heavy casualties, they only managed to take Xilotepec City. Logically speaking, the various City-States of the Mexica should not be this enthusiastic about war. As long as we resist this sudden attack during the busy farming season, and once all the Warriors and Militia from the regions are fully mobilized, victory will eventually be ours!"


    Su¡¯angua pondered for a moment, nodded slightly, and continued to wait for the Chief Minister¡¯s analysis.


    "The Mexica army on the northern front has only ten thousand Samurai, among which there are many Longbowmen. Their commander is ¡¯God of Death¡¯ Xiulote, said to be a teenager of just over ten years. He is a branch of the Mexica Royal Family, the grandson of the current High Priest Xutel, and also the fianc¨¦ of Ahuizotl¡¯s eldest daughter. Both commanders of the southern and northern fronts are Ahuizotl¡¯s confidants, and they have united the Priesthood and the Nobility."


    Hearing this, Su¡¯angua asked in surprise.


    "Defeats on the northern front keep coming in, first losing the wooden fort outposts, then suffering ambushes by the river. A couple of thousand Samurai and tens of thousands of Militia have been lost... I thought we were contending with an experienced veteran, but to think it was just a child!"


    Chief Minister Jinjinni shook his head and explained cautiously.


    "Your Majesty, this is no ordinary child. Spies lurking in hiding report that shortly after the death of Montezuma I, ¡¯God of Death¡¯ Xiulote was born. At the time of his birth, there was an omen in the sky, the morning star shone brightly, and he was born with ancient wisdom. Later, he personally killed the old King Tizoc and was named as the heir to the Royal Family. There are rumors that he is the reincarnation of an ancient Toltec craftsman, able to craft various extraordinary devices, and the Mexica Longbow is his invention!"

 Chapter 320 - 167 Tarasco’s Response_2

    Upon hearing the Chief Minister¡¯s words, King Su¡¯angua looked solemn and skeptical. As a youthful monarch, though not deeply devout, he still found it difficult to fully comprehend matters of the divine.


    "In that case, we must still be vigilant and cautious. It seems we should send another contingent of reinforcements to the northern route."


    Jinjinni hesitated for a moment before speaking softly.


    "Your Majesty, the enemy to the north is not too numerous. The lands on both sides of the Lerma River have been temporarily abandoned, and the kingdom has retreated to fortresses along the rivermouth and the line. In the defenses of Akanbaro State, there are already six thousand samurai and twenty thousand militia stationed. Provided we do not rashly engage in combat, they are sufficient to withstand twenty to thirty thousand Mexica samurai... In half a month, the kingdom can allocate another ten thousand militia to the northern route, but the samurai must wait for support from the Chapala Lake Region."


    Su¡¯angua paced back and forth, recalling the kingdom¡¯s military deployments. He had always personally controlled the most crucial military mobilizations.


    "With Lake Patzcuaro region as the core, the samurai in the hands of the royal family number twenty-five thousand. Other well-trained spear militia number five thousand, and five thousand reconstructed barbarian mercenaries. Now, with months of fighting, the samurai on both southern and northern fronts have suffered a staggering loss of over three thousand. The capital must retain at least two thousand samurai, leaving only twenty thousand samurai and ten thousand elite militia available for deployment.


    In the face of Mexica raids, over twenty thousand militia have fallen, and around fifty thousand have been committed to combat. Militia are being urgently mobilized from all over, with massive conscription of village adults, temporarily setting aside the autumn harvest."


    Su¡¯angua bore a bitter smile. He had painstakingly managed for a long time, been undefeated in the conquests of the west and north, yet he still found it difficult to withstand the vast forces from the East. This year¡¯s busy farming season lacked sufficient manpower, and the autumn harvest was bound to be significantly less productive.


    "Now, in the northern state of Akanbaro, there are six thousand samurai and twenty thousand militia stationed. In the southern state of Xitaqualo, over ten thousand samurai and thirty thousand militia have been deployed. The remaining three thousand samurai..."


    The King pondered for a long time, recalling the kingdom¡¯s topography of the north and the south, before he finally asked.


    "What do the marshals of the north and the south say?"


    Chief Minister Jinjinni thought for a while and then replied earnestly. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The latest letter was a report from a week ago. The southern Commander-in-Chief Quiyus said the battle is extremely fierce, with ceaseless combat day and night at the stone forts in the mountains. Mexica forces, counting their longbow warriors by the thousands, have besieged several key forts, attacking them daily. Their archers even approached within sixty paces, shooting under the cover of shields at the castle¡¯s bowmen. They also constructed a roaring wooden beast that hurls huge stones into the stone forts, immediately deciding life and death upon impact."


    "Quiyus" means eagle, a sacred hereditary title. Southern Commander-in-Chief Quiyus is the descendant of Tariguri, the first king of the Cazonci, and also King Su¡¯angua¡¯s uncle, a trusted member of the royal family.


    A look of confusion and shock reappeared on King Su¡¯angua¡¯s face.


    "What is this roaring wooden beast?"


    After thinking for a moment, Jinjinni answered.


    "It appears to be some kind of siege weapon, reportedly an invention of the ¡¯God of Death¡¯ Xiulote. Quiyus has already dispatched a large number of samurai and militia to harass the Mexica¡¯s rear. However, the enemy¡¯s supply line is not long and they were prepared early, having built several intermediate supply forts. Daily casualties include a hundred samurai from both sides, and double that for the militia."


    Su¡¯angua looked exceedingly grave. Since the war had begun, he had seldom heard any good news.


    "And the northern commander, Ospai? What does he say?"


    Jinjinni slightly smiled and shook his head.


    "Naval Forces Legion Commander Marshal Ospai reports the situation is optimistic, facing little pressure. His enemies are few, and the Mexica naval forces have already returned to the east. Now, with a large-scale deployment of our naval forces, the northern enemies are confined within wooden forts. He has requested to redeploy troops from the southern defense line to besiege one or two wooden forts. He also invites you to deploy the grand army to utterly eliminate the Mexica offshoots in the north!"


    Hearing of the advantage in the north, Su¡¯angua¡¯s expression slightly relaxed. He shook his head and chuckled softly, rebuking.


    "This belligerent crocodile! Tell him, do not redeploy the defense line troops. Our strategy for the north is to wait at ease and hold firmly, not to venture out. The enemies to follow will only increase, and he must hold the rivermouth fort and southern forts resolutely! Furthermore, I have no grand army for him, and it¡¯s of little matter if we temporarily yield the lands along the Lerma River. Let him fully leverage the naval forces¡¯ power and harass the enemy¡¯s supply lines!"


    The Chief Minister bowed his head to accept the command, a prudent strategy. He made a note on a wooden board, then continued to watch the king.


    Su¡¯angua pondered for a moment and finally made a decision, issuing a loud command.


    "The focal point of this war is the south! I will personally lead two thousand Copper-axe Guards, five thousand spear militia, and five thousand barbarian mercenaries to support the southern front! Leave three thousand samurai directly under me in the capital, you assess the situation and arrange accordingly. Likewise, the mobilized militia will primarily support the south, with the north supplemented as needed!"


    The king paused for a moment, his face displaying a majestic expression.


    "Jinjinni, when can the reinforcements from outside the Lake Region arrive?!"


    The Chief Minister bowed slightly.


    "The western Chapala Lake Region has mobilized, and all the great nobility there have declared loyalty to the king. However, due to the busy farming season, they have temporarily promised to deploy ten thousand samurai and twenty thousand militia, planning to split them into two groups, transported consecutively by water to the north. The first batch of fifteen thousand reinforcements will arrive within a month, the second batch in two months."


    Anger flashed across Su¡¯angua¡¯s face.


    "The Chapala Lake Region has a population of over six hundred thousand. The local nobility possess two thousand samurai, and if all able-bodied men are conscripted, they could mobilize up to eighty thousand militiamen! Send an envoy to rebuke them, demanding that the reinforcements be doubled!"

 Chapter 321 - 167 Tarasco’s Response_3

    Jinjinni displayed helplessness. He fell silent for a moment, then advised in a low voice.


    "Your Majesty, the autonomous tradition of the Chapala Lake Region has been long established. They have to guard against the Tekos rebels in the mountains, as well as the Guamal Canine Descendants from the north. This time, they were able to spare ten thousand Samurai and twenty thousand Militia to support us, showing great submission and respect for Your Majesty¡¯s prestigious campaign."


    The Chief Minister watched the young King¡¯s expression and continued respectfully.


    "I will negotiate with them. After the autumn harvest is complete, if all goes well, they should be able to provide an additional twenty thousand Militia. The northern battlefront is as stable as the towering mountains to the west, there¡¯s no need for Your Majesty to worry."


    Upon hearing this, Su¡¯angua pondered for a moment and finally nodded.


    "Maintain communication with the Chapala Lake Region, send an elder of the Kingdom to persuade the local Great Nobility. How has the mountainous south side of the Tarsas River and the Weytamo region responded? They are very close to the southern battlefront, and five thousand Samurai could quickly join the battlefield."


    Jinjinni hesitated for a moment but chose to be honest.


    "Your Majesty, the Weytamo region has refused your summons. They replied that the spring plowing keeps them busy, Mexica people are raiding their borders, and they are unable to send troops northward."


    Upon hearing this, Su¡¯angua angrily tore off the copper bell in front of him and threw it onto the silver ritual vessel. The crisp sound of the wind bell, along with a deep thud, mimicked the King¡¯s troubled thoughts.


    "Damn the southern City-States. Once this war is over, I¡¯ll squeeze those tribes back into my palm!"


    The King muttered darkly, then turned his stern gaze to the Chief Minister.


    "Jinjinni, have the subdued Tekos tribes responded to the call to arms?"


    Jinjinni smiled and nodded. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Majesty, the subdued Tekos tribes have responded to the Alliance, agreeing to dispatch ten thousand elite tribal Samurai. The condition is that the Kingdom provides provisions and quality equipment. They¡¯ve just finished their spring plowing, and it¡¯s a long journey. They are expected to take two months to arrive."


    Su¡¯angua¡¯s mood settled down, and he sighed softly.


    "The City-States of our Kingdom are even less loyal than these subdued foreign tribes!"


    Then, the King commanded in a firm voice.


    "Meet all their demands. There¡¯s no need for them to walk here, dispatch the southern Naval Forces to meet them, directing them straight to the Xitaqualo front. Also, negotiate more with their local Chieftains; the Kingdom is willing to provide exquisite feather garments and costly jewelry made of gold and silver in exchange for another mobilization of twenty thousand Militia, after the autumn harvest!"


    Jinjinni bowed again and noted down the order on the wooden map to the west.


    Su¡¯angua paced back and forth, deep in thought.


    "Jinjinni, how are the negotiations with the envoys sent to the major kingdoms? Are the surrounding tribes willing to send troops to aid us or to attack the Mexica people?"


    Jinjinni gently shook his head.


    "Your Majesty, we have always been distant from these tribes. All of them devoutly believe in false gods, unaware of the true divinities. The southern Mistec people and the Zapotecs are watching. The Mexica people loosened the tribute on them, so these tribes have no intention of rebelling temporarily. The northern Otomi people have contacted us several times. Although we maintain an unspoken truce, they are also unwilling to send troops at this time. Vastec people seem to be heavily exploited and quite resentful. But they are suppressed by the Mexica Northern Commander and do not dare to rebel temporarily."


    Having said this, the Chief Minister solemnly saluted.


    "Now, our only hope is the Tlaxcala people from the East. They have harbored deep enmity towards the Mexica people, clashing fiercely for many decades. They are very keen on the idea of sending troops. However, the priests of the Holy City Cholula from the false Divine Church intervened, claiming that this is a holy war against followers of different religions. Unless we convert to their false religion... "


    Su¡¯angua frowned. The worship of the Sun Chief Divine, the Earth Mother Goddess, and the Moon Goddess had been deeply rooted in Mi¡¯ken for a long time. Although the priests were suppressed by the Royal Family and accepted the assignments from the King, they would absolutely not agree to convert.


    "Conversion is out of the question. Mexica people are like Jaguars devouring the forests, their ambition is the whole world. The Tlaxcala people must understand this. Only by uniting our two Kingdoms can we withstand the massive Alliance that dominates the Mexican Valley.


    Select from the Royal Family, send noble Divine Descendants as envoys. Tell them I am willing to consider the leaders of Tlaxcala¡¯s Four States as elder brothers, with me as the younger brother, and sign a centuries-lasting alliance witnessed by the gods! Also, I am willing to establish marriage ties, taking the Princess of the Tlaxcala people as my chief wife and offering a princess from our former King to them!"


    Hearing this, the Chief Minister¡¯s expression drastically changed.


    "Your Majesty, your current chief wife is a daughter of the Kingdom¡¯s Great Nobility, how could she be lightly dismissed? As for the former King¡¯s Princess, the Tlaxcala people have always been cruel and brutal... "


    Su¡¯angua shook his head adamantly, his tone firm and decisive.


    "This time, the Mexica people come fiercely, mobilizing the entire Kingdom with many advanced weapons. It seems, to me, that our Kingdom might face the danger of annihilation! What does the humiliation of the princesses matter at such a time? As for the current Queen, I naturally will explain carefully and soothe her family. Moreover, the actual marriage will wait until after this war. Now, our primary task is to find a way for the Tlaxcala people to send troops and reduce the pressure on the front line!"


    The Chief Minister Jinjinni was left speechless. He remained silent for a long while, finally bowing deeply and accepting the command.

 Chapter 322 - 168 Various Parties

    A strong breeze from the East blew across the sky, and the wind chimes on the high platform rang out once more, sounding like the intense prelude of a symphony.


    King Su¡¯angua stood on the platform, silently watching the sky to the east. The summer breeze of the rainy season was so oppressive, with moist water vapor hitting the face, indicating that another heavy rain was imminent.


    After a while, the Tarasco King sighed lightly. He lowered his head, gazed at the longbow and copper arrows on the ground, and slowly, solemnly spoke.


    "Jinjinni, how goes the study by the master craftsmen? When can we replicate these Mexica longbows?"


    The Chief Minister showed a barely visible smile.


    "Your Majesty, I have already gathered the master craftsmen of the Capital City and worked together for two days. According to the masters, the technology to make this kind of longbow is not complex. The craftsmen just need to copy the existing form closely. I have just issued a strict order before coming here, instructing the craftsmen to start production immediately; the first copy could be ready within two or three days!"


    Su¡¯angua nodded in satisfaction. He looked at the Chief Minister and asked seriously.


    "Jinjinni, the Stone Fort in the south is on the verge of collapse, as dangerous as a pile of accumulating bird eggs! The samurai on the front line need this powerful new weapon. Can we produce a thousand longbows within two weeks?!"


    The Chief Minister pondered for a moment, then replied frankly.


    "Your Majesty, it can¡¯t be done. It¡¯s not possible!"


    Hearing this, the King¡¯s eyes widened, waiting for the Chief Minister¡¯s explanation.


    "The technical difficulty of Mexica longbows can be overcome. But its bow is long and wide, made from hard wood, which consumes a lot of labor in manufacturing. We lack skilled bowyers, so mass production would begin very slowly. Moreover, these longbows have great drawing force, the arrows used must be strong and well-shaped, making them equally difficult to produce! Additionally, the price for high-quality feathers is expensive, and there is a significant shortage of quality timber..."


    Jinjinni patiently listed each point, regardless of Su¡¯angua¡¯s increasingly grim expression. Finally, he spoke with a suddenly loud voice.


    "The most crucial point, Your Majesty, is that the longbows and feathered arrows require a lot of manual labor. With the large-scale drafting for war in the Lake Region, we are quickly running out of manpower!"


    Upon hearing this, Su¡¯angua¡¯s expression hardened. He spoke in a serious tone.


    "Explain in detail!"


    The Chief Minister bowed respectfully, then extended his right hand, counting on his fingers one by one.


    "The total population of the Patzcuaro Lake region is over nine hundred thousand, with more than two hundred thousand able-bodied adults. Currently, with wars erupting simultaneously in the south and the north, and smoke rising everywhere at the border. After two months of warfare, including the militia, we have already lost three to four ten thousand men. The Kingdom has already conscripted fifty thousand militia to enter the battlefield, and will summon another fifty thousand. Many of the remaining able-bodied are in the fiefs of various nobles, making them difficult to conscript forcefully. These people are also needed to maintain the most basic harvest in autumn... Your Majesty, purely in terms of national strength, we only have three-fifths of that of the Mexica Alliance."


    Su¡¯angua said nothing. He knew well that, including vassals paying tribute to the Mexica Alliance, the Kingdom¡¯s power was only half that of their enormous enemy. The King reflected for a moment, listening to the chanting of the priests in the wind, then slowly began to speak.


    "The nobles are gathered together, awaiting the priests¡¯ sacrificial rituals. I will discuss the prophecy of the gods with the Elder Priests. The gods will surely say, ¡¯The nobles large and small together offer manpower and material resources to resist the invasion of the followers of foreign gods, which will be a test of their devotion!¡¯"


    Jinjinni was startled for a moment, then after a brief reflection, his face changed dramatically. He spoke hastily.


    "Your Majesty, the nobility are the foundation of the Kingdom..."


    Su¡¯angua gestured to stop him, his expression stern. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Jinjinni, I have my own judgment! Can we divert some of the thousands of craftsmen in the Capital City to specialize in making longbows?"


    The Chief Minister bowed his head and calculated for a moment before replying.


    "If we stop maintenance on the palaces and temples and compulsorily recruit the craftsmen of the Royal Family, we should be able to gather two to three hundred people."


    Upon hearing this, the King¡¯s brow furrowed slightly.


    "That number is too small! Draw another three hundred from the bronze-working craftsmen, all to be reassigned to make longbows and arrows."


    Jinjinni once again busied himself with calculations. Then, he answered hesitantly.


    "If so, the daily output should reach over fifty longbows and more than a thousand arrows. Nearly a thousand laborers will be needed to cut timber and handle odd jobs... But what about the shortfall in bronze soldiers?"


    Su¡¯angua nodded, and with a decisive gesture said,


    "Carry it out like this! The militia defending the fort don¡¯t need bronze soldiers. Allocate a batch of bronze tools to the craftsmen, let them improve their bow-making skills, and master the production quickly. Samurai should supervise intensively, working day and night. Also, urgently select samurai and militia who are good at archery, include them under the direct control of the Royal Family, and prioritize equipping them with longbows!"


    The Chief Minister quickly sketched out abstract longbows and figures on a wooden board, marking with tally symbols, recording the King¡¯s orders.


    Su¡¯angua turned around and looked towards the five majestic and spectacular "House of Wind" Akatla, where the sacrificial ceremonies had already begun.


    Below Akatla, the nobility stood in solemn silence, quietly watching the grand and solemn ceremony. In front of the Temple of the Three Gods, the Sacred Fire blazed fiercely, while the lower priests sang and chanted. They inhaled the smoke of the Divine Kingdom wafting from terracotta gourds, wildly dancing in a delirious intoxication.


    The King sniffed the scent in the wind and frowned. Disgusted, he averted his gaze to look at the composed high-ranking priests. These aged priests, holding sharp blades, stood at the top of the temples, receiving one bound Mexica sacrifice after another. The number of sacrifices was not particularly large, but the sacrificial ceremony was very elaborate. Each deity had different preferences, corresponding to different parts of the sacrifices¡¯ bodies.


    Su¡¯angua¡¯s expression remained calm, as he watched blood bloom in splashes before the Temple. His thoughts suddenly became somewhat distant.

 Chapter 323 - 168 Each Side_2

    "The Mexica are known for their proficiency in sacrifices, and all the parts of the world sing praises of their piety. I wonder if I¡¯ll ever have the chance to witness that magnificent sacrificial ceremony with my own eyes..."


    At this thought, a chill suddenly struck the King¡¯s heart. He couldn¡¯t help but lift his head and gaze toward the southern sky.


    From the "Palace of Wind," traveling southeast for four to five hundred li, one would reach the state of Xitaqualo. The undulating mountain forests hindered the movement of large-scale armies, with rivers flowing north to south serving as natural pathways for marching troops. Dense stone forts dotted the strategic points along the rivers.


    The summer sun fell from the sky, illuminating the flags atop the stone forts. The breeze caused the flags to flutter, clearly displaying the patterns, a third of which were already the sun and the hummingbird. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nobility scion Iskali, with a commander¡¯s long banner of three and a half meters on his back, stood on a hill, firmly watching ahead.


    Two hundred meters in front lay a small stone fort made of greenstone. The fort was stained with traces of slaughter, with scattered corpses and broken arrows around. The highest point of the watchtower was adorned with the Eagle Banner of the Tarasco Royal Family. A Jaguar Warrior in yellow armor and beast helmet, his body soaked in blood, strode to the top of the watchtower and snapped the Eagle Banner. Behind him, a seasoned warrior in dark green war clothes presented a new banner solemnly, his head bowed.


    Then, the Jaguar Warrior forcefully planted the new banner at the highest point. Facing the strong wind, he let out a mighty cry, calling upon the Chief Divine¡¯s name. The banner unfurled in the breeze, revealing the vivid emblems of the sun and the hummingbird. At that moment, thousands of Mexica warriors cheered loudly, praising the victory granted by the Chief Divine!


    On the hill, Iskali too bowed his head, covered his prominent cheekbones with a hand, and prayed silently. Then, with a stern expression and cold light flickering in his eyes, he called for his trusted aide calmly.


    "How many captives from this battle?"


    "Two hundred Tarasco warriors, five hundred militia, most of them wounded."


    "Leave none."


    Iskali waved his hand coldly, his voice as indifferent as usual. This stone fort had resisted resolutely, maintaining its ground for a full five days in the face of enemies several times its number and despite the formidable longbows and the bombardment of stones. The Alliance warriors, while storming the fort, had also lost over two hundred men... The commander did not intend to give any prisoners the chance to convert.


    The trusted aide bowed and left promptly. Shortly after, the accompanying priests erected a simple altar to pray to the highest Chief Divine and offered up the sacrifices. The priests¡¯ sacred chanting soon echoed inside and outside the fort, as thousands of warriors knelt before the Sacred Fire, finding solace for their souls and renewing their will to fight.


    Iskali also knelt to pray. While his lips muttered prayers, his mind drifted with the breeze toward the Capital City.


    "It is already past mid-July, and only a third of the Xitaqualo state has been conquered. The resistance of the Tarascan people grows ever more tenacious, and the losses among the warriors ever greater. Esteemed King, when will you arrive with the main army?"


    The wind continued on its way. Behind the southern route commander, a series of wooden forts extended until the beginning of the supply route at the state of Raziko. Among the forests surrounding the camps lay many bodies of Tarasco soldiers, staining the soil beneath red. Meanwhile, the Mexica warriors and militia were buried in shallow mounds around the camps, resting in eternal peace after a moment¡¯s cry and struggle, regardless of friend or foe.


    The warm sunlight fell equally upon miles of land, yet the ground below had changed. In the Mexican Valley at this time, the land was lush and green. Wildflowers bloomed beside the roads, and young shoots in the fields grew vigorous and strong.


    The farmers carefully weeded their fields, tending to the corn, soy, and pumpkins. Occasionally, they would pause in their toil to observe the large troops of militia passing by, noting their sharp stone spears and the tall bamboo baskets on their backs¡ªthese were the militia transporting food to the front lines in the south.


    As the vanguard of warriors passed, the bold farmer would quietly ask a few questions, inquiring about what the Tarasco people in the west were like. The clash two hundred li away took place on enemy territory, and the Alliance¡¯s spring farming went on as always. For the civilians of the Alliance, war seemed as distant as a thousand li away, at the very edge of the world.


    The residents of the Lake Capital City were clearly more knowledgeable and experienced. They gathered in the bustling market of Tlatelolco in the North City, discussing the latest, albeit inaccurate, news brought by busy caravans. Guided by community priests, the Capital City¡¯s inhabitants talked loudly, imagining the situation of war sweeping through like a broken bamboo, discussing the victory that was sure to be achieved.


    Inside the King¡¯s Palace, Aweit was seated high on his throne, draped in a majestic and authoritative robe. He held the latest parchment reports, reviewing the mobilization reports from the Texcoco Lake District. By the King¡¯s side, Gillim stood with his hands tied, holding pen and paper, his expression solemn, uttering not a sound.


    The King held all military movements firmly in his hands. Looking at the tally marks on the parchment, he performed rapid and accurate mental calculations without needing others to report or assist him. After a while, Aweit nodded in satisfaction.


    "The vassals from each region seem to be quite obedient thus far. The Vastec, the Mistec, and the Zapotecs have all sent the second tribute of the summer. The distant Zapotecs have been underhanded, delivering only two-thirds of what the Alliance demanded. Given the Alliance¡¯s preoccupation with farming and warfare, it is indeed not feasible to send troops against them. However, this appears more like a test from the vassals, not to be indulged at will!"


    After pondering for a moment, Aweit made a firm decision.

 Chapter 324 - 168 Various Parties_3

    "Gillim, dispatch three thousand elite Samurai and five hundred Jaguar nobility. Let them make a round through the southern Mistec, showing off the Alliance¡¯s military power, before joining the ranks of the Southern Army in the west. At the same time, send an Envoy to reprimand the Zapotecs and have them compensate the shortfall in their tribute after the autumn harvest!" S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Gillim nodded, accepting the command and jotting down the decree. He asked quietly,


    "My King, you will campaign after the autumn harvest. If there is still a shortfall in the third tribute from the south, how shall it be handled?"


    The King smiled slightly.


    "Then note down the shortfall and compensate it in the New Year¡¯s tribute. If there is still a shortfall... the Alliance will not wage war now, but will remember it firmly, all accounts to be settled later!"


    Gillim nodded solemnly.


    "My King, once the war starts, resources will vanish as if the forest is burning, disappearing one after another. The manpower and resources of the Alliance are all stretched thin. Without the tributes from the vassal lands, it would be difficult to sustain. The people of Tarasco will only find it harder than us."


    Aweit nodded in agreement.


    "According to recent reports, the Southern Route Army led by Iskali is progressing well, having captured the outermost ring of Stone Forts. Once Xitaqualo is captured, the Tarascans will have no defensible position left! Xiulote¡¯s Northern Route Army has also successfully established a foothold at the Lerma River, holding off a large number of northern enemies. How the battle proceeds from here will depend on his own performance."


    Gillim bowed his head in salute.


    "The Southern Army is the main force of the western campaign, and the Northern Route Army is ultimately just a diversion. As long as your Highness can attract the reinforcements from the Chapala Lake Region and continuously maintain pressure on the Akanbaro State, it would be a great feat!"


    Upon hearing this, Aweit smiled gently. He did not say much, but calmly gave further orders.


    "Gillim, continue sending Envoys to the various City-States of the Alliance, urging them to mobilize the Samurai who do not need to farm to hurry to the north-south front lines. Before the autumn harvest, we need to launch another wave of attacks! Similarly, send Envoys and Scouts to the major forces to test their attitudes towards the Alliance and observe military mobilization. Tell Acap he¡¯s doing well in the Holy City of Cholula! Let him continue discussing theology with the Elder Priests there and send him another batch of special tobacco and Holy Water!"


    Upon hearing the name ¡¯Holy Water,¡¯ Gillim¡¯s hand paused, his expression finally changing slightly. After a moment, the Intelligence Officer regained his composure and continued recording in his hand.


    Afterward, Aweit stood up, looked through the broad windows to the northwest mountains, pondering silently.


    "Xiulote, you better not disappoint me..."


    At that moment, in the distant Holy City of Cholula, within the towering pyramid sanctuary, Acap suddenly shuddered. He was dressed in an exquisite robe, his face fair, and he moved like the messenger of the gods, laughing and talking with a group of white-haired elders.


    Thick divine smoke wafted through the sanctuary, spreading a pleasant and intoxicating strange scent.


    "Elder Acap, the supreme view of the divinity you were just discussing was excellent, why did you suddenly stop?" a seemingly benevolent dignified elder asked with a smile, sitting cross-legged straight ahead.


    Acap pondered briefly, finding everything normal, and similarly responded with a gentle smile,


    "Respected High Priest, the divine smoke you burn is too precious, bewitching me so wholly that I lost myself."


    The High Priest laughed heartily and then waved his hand. Several graceful maids promptly approached, adding even more precious herbs and flowers to the beautifully crafted bronze censer.


    "Then please, Elder Acap, continue to lose yourself and meet with the supreme divinity in dreams!"

 Chapter 325 - 169: The Treaty Battle of Cholula City

    Mysterious divine smoke wafted out from the sanctuary, gently rising up to the gathering clouds. Looking down from the sky, beneath the towering sanctuaries of the gods stood the magnificent and grand Cholula Great Pyramid, the "man-made mountain" Tlachihualtepetl!


    This ancient pyramid, over sixty meters in height and four hundred fifty meters in length and width, was the largest pyramid in the world by volume. It had been expanded six times from the inside out, primarily using mud bricks mixed with granite. On the outermost layer of the pyramid, many areas were covered with soil, planted with various colorful flowers and plants.


    At this time, during the summer, artificially planted flowers blossomed on the surface of the towering pyramid, attracting brightly colored butterflies that fluttered among the dark gray bricks. The imposing ancient marvel had transformed into the beautiful "Flower Holy Mountain"!


    The main hall of the sanctuary had its wide doors and windows open, and the intoxicating fragrance dispersed with the wind. Acap sat on a soft bear skin mat, inhaling the pleasant and dazzling aroma, looking down at the sprawling sea of flowers beneath his feet. He laughed heartily, his spirit lifted as if he were a deity high in the clouds, contentedly overlooking the mortal world.


    After a while, not until the divine smoke in the hearth had burnt out did the young Elder Priest recover from his genuine joy. Stimulated by the divine smoke, his face flushed and his heart raced as he loudly praised.


    "This is indeed the finest divine smoke! Momentarily transported to the Divine Kingdom, I felt immense joy, akin to the purest Holy Water. Thank you, messenger of the deities, Priest Leader Petl! What precious Divine Grass have you added to this divine smoke?"


    The kindly noble old man laughed heartily, his complexion normal amid the divine smoke.


    "Indeed, many precious Divine Grasses have been added, a unique tradition passed down through generations of Cholula Priests! Each portion of this prepared divine smoke is worth a chest of gold and is priceless. This formula for the divine smoke has been passed down from the Toltec Empire era, enduring for six hundred years now!"


    Upon hearing this, Acap exclaimed in awe and showed his respect.


    Petl smiled complacently, his smile tinged with pride.


    "Cholula City has been established for one thousand eight hundred years. Since the decline of the First Holy City Teotihuacan, this place has gradually prospered as the Second Holy City. There are towering pyramid-temples here, numerous smaller temples, tens of thousands of civilians in service, and over a thousand noble priests! Although the two holy cities have similar layouts, their prosperity is as different as heaven and earth. Teotihuacan is where the deities departed, while Cholula is where the deities return, the true holy capital!"


    Acap nodded repeatedly, praising with a laugh. Then he shifted his words, his gaze sincere.


    "Cholula Holy City, a hub for north-south trade, is famously wealthy, only slightly less so than the Lake Capital City. Cholula¡¯s Flower Holy Mountain is majestic and beautiful, worthy of being ranked among the finest in the world alongside the Great Temple of the Lake Capital City and the Sun and Moon Pyramids of Teotihuacan!"


    Hearing this, Priest Leader Petl¡¯s smile faltered.


    Cholula Holy City had always been revered, away from the ravages of war. The many priestly families in the city had a heritage of four to five hundred years without interruption, truly the remnants of the Toltec, the "civilized people within the city". In contrast, the Aztec people had come from the distant northwest, from Aztl¨¢n, enduring a long migration and countless battles. Like the people of Tlaxcala outside the city, they were also blood-stained wilderness people, the "barbarians outside the city". Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For over a hundred years, the Aztec people had settled in the Lake Capital City, claiming to be descendants of the Toltec, the divine-favored Mexica. Thereafter, they waged wars far and wide, intimidating the whole world, forcing other states to change their stance. But the true history, of course, was clearly recorded in Cholula Holy City.


    "Acap speaking such words before me is not to demean himself but to broach an alliance. In these two months, the Mexica have tested the waters several times, showing a strong intention to form an alliance."


    Petl¡¯s mind whirred rapidly, his smile returning to normal. After weighing his words for a while, he finally spoke with a smile,


    "The Mexica Alliance is the successor to the great Toltec Empire, and the Mexica are the chosen Divine Tribe. Cholula Holy City has always respected the will of the deities, and we have long been as one with the Alliance. It is well known that we are all of Toltec blood, what more is there to say..."


    As he spoke, Petl shifted the topic back to the divine smoke.


    "Elder Acap, although the divine smoke of the Holy Land is exquisite, the Holy Water of the Lake Capital City is equally extraordinary, transcending the mundane. The Mexica¡¯s Pharmacists are uniquely distinguished, renowned across the land. The High Priest Quetzal was an expert among them! Half a year ago, when I heard of his demise, I lamented for several days, wondering when I could taste the Holy Water again and feel the blessings of the deities?"


    Acap pondered for a moment, sighing inwardly. The leaders of Cholula were very cordial toward the Alliance, yet they consistently refused to officially form an alliance, leading to no progress once again. His face always smiling, warmly serene, he continued speaking.


    "While the High Priest has returned to the Divine Kingdom, the tradition of Alchemy continues. As this visit was hasty...I have already dispatched envoys, bringing them the latest Holy Water, and I invite all the Elder Priests to share in the divine grace when the time comes."


    Petl nodded approvingly, genuinely looking forward to it. He continued to extend the topic.


    "That sounds wonderful! I hear the great Alliance is reforming religion, increasing the number of priests, participating in managing the nobility¡¯s fiefs. Has the Council of Twelve Priests established religious laws to manage the world on behalf of the deities?"

 Chapter 326 - 169: The Treaty Battle of Cholula City_2

    Acap¡¯s mind turned and then he understood. He admitted with a smile,


    "Indeed, your Highness of the Alliance has received a Divine Revelation; the benevolent spirits have bestowed detailed scripts. The Alliance has embraced the sacred mandate to spread the glory of the gods throughout the world, reaching every heart!"


    Petl frowned slightly. He was naturally wary of the newly created scripts.


    However, outside the Holy City of Cholula were the various nobility of Tlaxcala, effectively controlling the entire state of Cholula. Although the priests were sacred, their power was limited to inside the Holy City, and they had been scheming to expand outward for a long time.


    The leader of the priests then smiled and said,


    "Very well! Elder Acap¡¯s words are reasonable. It is the responsibility bestowed by the gods for the priests to participate in the management of the nobles¡¯ fiefs and educate the people. Please elaborate!"


    Acap nodded, smiling as he began to speak,


    "Each state of Tlaxcala should indeed revere the will of the Holy City... In this expedition against the heretics, the people of Tarasco have received Divine Punishment... The Alliance will always support the Holy City of Cholula... The new holy orders are divided into five levels, and priest leaders shepherd their regions... Of course, the Elder Priests of the Holy City should naturally occupy high positions, their holy orders equivalent to the twelve Priesthoods..."


    In the lavishly decorated Great Temple, the sacred smoke was lit again. The envoys of the gods spoke jovially, discussing the rise and fall of the mortal world.


    Meanwhile, in a secluded mountain camp, a blazing bonfire was lit. "Black Wolf" Toltec, with brows stern as a sword, stood atop the tall Wooden Fort, watching the training of the Longbow Militia.


    Organized by tribe, dozens of Longbow Militia teams moved in coordinated strikes, spreading and advancing like the wind, standing firm to shoot like rain. Although the formations of the advancing Militia looked rough, they already possessed the agility of a pack of wolves, able to roughly execute the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s military orders and tactically adjust on their own. In constant movement, the tribal Hunters still maintained a certain level of organization, resembling wolves on a collective hunt.


    After a brief training pause, Toltec summoned the Chieftains, rebuking them loudly for their tactical deficiencies. His expression was fierce, his voice like Thunderbolt. Chilled to the core, the Chieftains bowed their heads to take orders, scattering in all directions to drill. Only then did "Black Wolf," the Commander-in-Chief, turn around, with a hint of satisfaction on his face, to head towards the large tent. Moments later, the majestic Commander-in-Chief entered the tent, took out a brand-new paper book, and his face fell¡ªit was time for reading and writing again.


    In the new camp to the north of the Capital City, hundreds of Spear Militia let out a thundering cry, engaging in real-standing Formations under the leadership of the squad leaders. The front row of Militia held wood Spears without tips, striving to jab forward, hitting against dense Rattan Shields. The back row pushed against the shields, trying to keep their formation tight, pushing their phalanx forward. The two opposing phalanxes continued until one gradually dispersed, forced apart and completely losing formation.


    "Monkey" Kuluka then blew the conch, signaling the outcome of the battle. He smiled slightly, warmly patting the shoulders of the two team leaders, sincerely praising the victorious Guzman. Then, the newly appointed Legion Commander sternly gathered the squadron leaders to explain the problems they had faced and highlighted the areas where training needed to be strengthened. From time to time, he would turn and ask for the opinion of Adjutant Ezpan.


    The Surrendered General from Tarasco wore a respectful expression, providing detailed suggestions for improvement. The new Legion Commander was very approachable, quickly getting along well with the Militia, and showed great respect for his Adjutant. He promoted many outstanding members, with the gold miner Guzman being one. The more personable the Legion Commander appeared, the more Ezpan dared not underestimate him. For unbeknownst to him, the Legion had already been firmly controlled by the Commander.


    And whenever night fell, Kuluka would always take paper and pen to the Adjutant¡¯s quarters, eagerly learning the tactical formations of the Spear troops. Although he looked as primitive as a monkey, his mind was exceptionally sharp and unfettered, quickly grasping the new tactics. After a few days, Ezpan was impressed.


    Soon, the clash between the two Spear Formations started once again. The other numerous phalanxes, surrounding the center of the battlefield, engaged in simulated marches and deployments. Watching the Spear phalanxes take shape, "Monkey" Kuluka finally nodded in satisfaction, contemplating more complex tactics.


    "After half a lifetime of twists and turns, now, I finally command an army on my own. A broad path lies open before me, and I must not fail the high expectations of your Highness!"


    Not far away, Ezpan looked at the resolute Legion Commander and then at the Spear phalanxes beginning to take form, his gaze envious, deeply moved. It was a good while before he turned away to look southward at Lake Texcoco. The glistening lake surface was never without boats, continuously transporting grain and supplies from the Lake Region, also bringing the latest news of the war.


    Next to the Long Bridge of White Stone, Commander-in-Chief Annatri waved the three-meter Spear Flag, and the grand fleet of Naval Forces slowly set sail, moving downstream towards the north. The fleet carried three thousand elite Samurai, holds full of dry military rations, and special weapons sealed in wooden crates, wrapped with waterproof tarpaulins.


    Tepopolo, with high brow bones and a kind smile, stood behind Annatri, closely observing the martial bearing of the female Samurai, pondering the significance of the Naval Forces to the Fief, silently calculating in his heart.


    After giving her commands, the sharp instincts of the Samurai made Annatri sense something. She turned briskly and, upon seeing Tepopolo¡¯s brazen gaze, her eyebrows rose. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tepopolo, the ¡¯Destroyer¡¯ of Tlatelolco, you insisted on boarding my flagship, claiming important matters to discuss. Considering your current expression, could it be that this so-called important matter is a challenge to compete with me?"

 Chapter 327 - 169: The Treaty Battle of Cholula City_3

    Hearing this unapologetic query, Tepopolo¡¯s expression stiffened, and anger flared in his heart. As a seasoned Commander-in-Chief who was also a valiant Samurai in his youth, he was confident that he was second to none. Later, inheriting the honored position amongst the Nobility, waited upon with great care, he had always been revered. No one had dared to speak to him with that tone for a long time, apart from the King.


    Tepopolo was discontent for only a moment before he remembered the purpose of his trip. Then he puffed out his chest and laughed boldly and heartily. Following traditional customs, he thumped his strapping right arm against his solid chest, showing off his robust body.


    "¡¯Source of Water¡¯ Annatri, I hear that you have not yet married, and my wife has passed away some years ago. Now, the mighty mountains have no rivers, the spacious house lacks a mistress. The tall corn has no beans to intertwine with, the strong body needs soothing! In the presence of the god of love, Sochiketzal, I declare my pursuit of you, to make you part of my palace!"


    Annatri¡¯s almond eyes widened, and her willow eyebrows arched.


    "You must first prove your Martial Arts before I allow your pursuit! Whether the mountains are mighty, that is not said with words. Whether the corn is strong, that is not apparent merely by looks. Whether you are indeed the ferocious roaring Jaguar, or just a barking cackling dog, let¡¯s see the truth with our own hands!"


    Tepopolo¡¯s face darkened. A flurry of thoughts raced through his mind¡ªthe control of the Naval Forces was hereditary and relatively independent. Gaining Annatri would indirectly secure the support of the Naval Forces, and with that support came dominance over the river. As the conversation had reached this point, and as a renowned Samurai, he certainly had no reason to retreat. After pondering for a moment, he took out his War Club confidently and smirked fiercely.


    "Fine! Annatri, in the presence of the gods, let¡¯s have a duel right here! According to traditional custom, the victor shall take from the loser the most valuable treasure they possess!"


    Without hesitation, Annatri stamped her Long Spear aboard ship, resounding with a thunderous bang. She laughed out loud, her voice ringing like a clear silver bell.


    "Good, that¡¯s how a Samurai should act. In the sight of the gods, let us begin now!"


    Having said that, Annatri lifted her head and gave Tepopolo a sidelong glance. Then, she made a hand gesture, signaling for him to strike first.


    Seeing this action, Tepopolo¡¯s anger rekindled, his desire for combat burning in his chest. His years of battle experience had taught him to keep his movements cautious and steady. He raised his left hand¡¯s shield to protect his vital areas, and his War Club pointed diagonally, ready to strike with ease, as he quickly pressed forward.


    Annatri¡¯s gaze was eagle-like, both hands gripped the long spear, held horizontally in front of her. Her knees bent slightly, the spear shaft retracted behind, its point aimed at the opponent, ready to burst forth at any moment.


    On the slightly swaying boat, Tepopolo took small steps, advancing toward the female warrior. Suddenly, he lunged forward, his left hand¡¯s shield raised to strike her head and simultaneously block the route of the spear. Then, he bent low, his right hand swinging the War Club down at her waist. It was an extremely skilled combination of shield and club, the strikes of both hands powerful and flawless!


    The dual attacks arrived simultaneously; Annatri¡¯s eyes lit up as she let out a clear battle cry, and nimbly took a small step back. She was like a fish in water, sensing the flow of the assault, deftly avoiding the Shield Strike. Next, she swiftly stepped aside, moving to the right like a swift in the wind, avoiding the club blow with keen agility.


    One advance, one retreat, one turn, one shift¡ªall in the blink of an eye. Tepopolo¡¯s swing hit air, startling him; he quickly pulled back and used his shield to cover his core. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The female warrior didn¡¯t pause; her movements were smooth like flowing water. She let out a fierce shout, surged forward, first with a long-prepared thrust, piercing precisely at Tepopolo¡¯s helmet, penetrating it just enough. Then, pushing down on the spear shaft, she gave a powerful flick, and the helmet spun off, landing in the lake.


    Tepopolo¡¯s forehead ached, followed by a sudden chill on his head. Had it been the battlefield, he would have been dead by now. His eyes reddened, and as he was about to raise his shield and swing his club again, a heavy blow landed on top of his head, dizzying him.


    With one move to flick the helmet away, Annatri pressed down on her spear again and smashed the butt of it onto her opponent¡¯s head. Then she quickly advanced, navigating the shaking boat with ease, and closed in to about a meter. Lastly, the female warrior shouted angrily, seizing the moment of Tepopolo¡¯s daze with a side kick from the back leg, fiercely kicking his shield.


    The boat shook violently; Tepopolo stifled, losing his balance in his daze. In a split second, a furiously shouted command and an irresistible Force from the shield sent him flying two meters backward. The illustrious noble suddenly floundered in the air, splashing into the water with a thud. The slightly salty water of the rainy season lake continuously poured through his nose and mouth, thoroughly drenching his hair and armor.


    The noble finally came to his senses. He screamed aloud while wildly treading water. The circle of small boats around him quickly came to his aid. But the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s large boat had already sailed away, disappearing into the distance in moments.


    Annatri stood alone at the prow of her boat, proudly slinging her Long Spear across her back. The lake wind blew through her long hair as she looked heavenward with a resounding laugh, leaving behind an echoing statement.


    "Tepopolo, you possess no treasure that catches my eye! Only a man who can defeat me is the mountain worthy of the flowing water¡¯s reliance!"


    Afterward, with a sweep of her Long Spear, she sharply commanded her awestruck trusted aides and sailors.


    "Raise the flag, hasten the march! Next, we head to Lake Haltocan to meet the Samurai armies from Teotihuacan!"

 Chapter 328 - 170: Reinforcements

    August was the peak of the rainy season. The deities had opened the passage between the Heavenly River and the human world, and the heavy rain poured down from the sky.


    From the Great Temple at Lake Texcoco to the House of Wind by Lake Patzcuaro, the vast lands were engulfed in continuous wind and rain. The soft mud was filled with rainwater, and the blue stone walls were slick with wetness, making all fighting difficult, hence it gradually ceased.


    With the sky full of wind and rain, Xiulote, dressed in a plain robe, stood on the watchtower of the wooden fort, looking east towards the Lerma River, waiting for the returning fleet. As far as he could see, the curtain of rain was continuous, the nearby river water rose incessantly, and the river surface widened. The river then surged westward, tumultuous with waves.


    The heavy rain limited visibility. The Young Commander did not know how long he had stood until the first vague black spot appeared before his eyes, followed by a second, a third... Hundreds of boats came downstream, with Samurais braving the rain at the prows. He finally showed a smile and hurried down from the watchtower.


    Soon, preparations were made on the riverbank pier, and the huge fleet slowly docked, allowing the samurais to disembark one after another.


    Xiulote had already changed into a dignified commander¡¯s war clothes and, flanked by guards, greeted the arriving legions.


    Annatri, carrying a long spear, leaped down from the ornate great boat. She strode up to the Young Commander, bowed her head, and greeted him earnestly. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, a thousand Temple Guards, three thousand Royal Warriors, four thousand Holy City Legion members, and food for twenty thousand people for three months have arrived on time as scheduled!"


    Xiulote solemnly reciprocated the greeting.


    "Annatri, the rain is so heavy, you have had a tough journey! It has also been very difficult for the warriors to march in the rain for several days. The wooden fort has prepared a banquet, dry clothes, and barracks. The reinforcements can now go and rest, and the sailors can also take turns ashore!"


    Next, Xiulote stepped forward two paces towards the commanders of the various reinforcements. He first exchanged greetings with the honored nobility, Tepopolo. The Young Commander glanced curiously at Tepopolo. Despite the hot and moist weather, the other party still wore a wet leather hat tightly covering his forehead.


    "Your Highness, I sustained a minor injury on my forehead, please forgive me for not taking-off my hat to greet you."


    Tepopolo awkwardly explained.


    The Young Commander nodded his head and didn¡¯t inquire in detail in front of everyone. Tepopolo breathed a sigh of relief.


    Then, Xiulote looked towards his father, Xiuxoke, who had a smile on his face and a gentle gaze. The smile was out of joy from not seeing each other for a long time, and his gaze deeply concealed care.


    They looked at each other for a moment, suppressing their excited emotions, and bowed their heads in greeting at the same time. Then, Xiulote also exchanged a greeting with his teacher, Olosh. Viewing the dignified young man, Olosh grinned, his expression full of immense joy and relief.


    The welcome banquet was formal yet simple. There were no grand dances or music at the banquet, and the generals did not indulge in excessive drinking. The camp prepared roasted deer meat, roasted rabbit meat, corn cakes, black bean paste, a few cups of freshly made cocoa drinks, and finally, delicious fish soup made from freshly caught fish.


    Xiulote covertly supervised. The fresh fish was boiled in water, then clean fine salt and Mexican Sichuan pepper were added to expel the cold. Then, the fish soup simmered in a ceramic pot for a long time until the clear broth turned creamy white, with the meat separated from the bones, giving off an enticing aroma.


    Everyone finished a bowl of fish soup, feeling its exceptional freshness and breaking into a sweat. The group praised the chef¡¯s skills and then moved on to the main topic. The various reinforcements reported the detailed situation of their troops, Bertade described the situation at the northern wooden fort and an estimate of Tarasco¡¯s military strength in the south. Eventually, Xiulote set the strategy, ordered the various units to scatter and garrison, to tightly hold their positions, and patiently await the opportunity for battle.


    As dusk fell, the banquet ended, and the commanders went back to their camps. As the Naval Commander, Annatri needed to return to the great boat to rest. She followed her ancestors¡¯ traditions, seldom leaving the fleet, and did not interact with the nobility of the Alliance.


    Xiulote thought for a moment, a smile spreading across his face. He ordered Bertade to see the Naval Commander off. During the banquet, he had heard Annatri¡¯s bold words and also learned about the origin of the scar on Tepopolo¡¯s forehead, and at this moment, a subtle idea had formed in his mind.


    Having received the Commander¡¯s military order, the weathered Head Warrior silently watched the young man for a moment before bowing his head to accept the command.


    As he stepped out of the tent, the wind and rain came at them. Annatri stood tall and slightly tilted her head, looking at the Head Warrior with interest. After a moment, she simply greeted him and then asked loudly.


    "Bertade, it¡¯s been a month since we met. I just heard that you killed forty Tarasco warriors in battle, and His Highness named you the Chief Eagle Warrior and even caused the Sun God to manifest a divine celestial phenomenon. Now, rumors in the army say you are the bravest warrior of the Northern Route Army. I wonder when you are free, could we have a match?"


    The Head Warrior calmly looked at Annatri. He did not speak, only returned the greeting.


    Annatri frowned slightly. After thinking for a moment, she headed towards the river and the fleet, striding forward. The Head Warrior lagged one step behind, also steadily following her. The female warrior covertly observed his footsteps and listened to the rhythm of his breathing. Then, she accelerated, running like a cheetah on the soft mud, quickly leaving the wooden fort behind.


    Bertade still walked with a steady pace, his breathing not disturbed, always maintaining a one-step distance.


    After observing for a moment, Annatri abruptly stopped and stood firmly.


    "You must have a match with me, otherwise, I will just stand here and not leave!"

 Chapter 329 - 170 Reinforcements_2

    In the storm, Bertade stood silently. He calmly waited for a long time as the heavy rain soaked both of their clothes. It wasn¡¯t until nightfall that the Head Warrior, looking at the Samurai¡¯s resolute expression, finally opened his mouth with reluctance.


    "Fine!"


    As darkness fell, a bonfire was lit inside the Commander¡¯s wooden hut. By the flickering firelight, Xiulote crossed his legs and sat opposite his father, engaging in an earnest conversation.


    "Father, have your injuries healed?"


    Xiuxoke smiled and nodded, patting his chest.


    "They¡¯ve been healed for a while now. I am ready to charge into battle and fight for half a day at any moment. Over the past six months, hearing that you encountered danger in the Capital City several times, I often thought of going there to find you. But your grandfather wouldn¡¯t allow it. He wanted me to take control of the Brigade and make any necessary preparations..."


    Xiuxoke briefly touched on the subject without going into details about the preparations. Then, looking at the handsome and resolute young man, he smiled contentedly and patted his son on the shoulder.


    "I heard that you have done many great things, and I was somewhat skeptical at first. But seeing you today and observing your behavior, I truly believe it. Within these past six months, you really have grown a lot! You are now capable of commanding a large army, facing the slaughter of blood and fire... The heavy responsibility and future of our family now rest on your shoulders!"


    On the final note, Xiuxoke felt a wave of emotion, inexplicably. He was very pleased to see his son¡¯s rapid growth, but always couldn¡¯t help wondering if he was getting old.


    Xiulote listened quietly, a genuine smile on his face. After a long pause, he spoke softly.


    "Father, I don¡¯t have experience in commanding large-scale battles. For this western expedition, I am planning to appoint you as the Marshal of the Northern Route Army, to exert control over the divisions and handle the specifics of military affairs."


    Xiuxoke was taken aback. Stirred slightly, he thought for a moment but then shook his head firmly.


    "Xiulote, I will definitely assist you in this western expedition. Being the Marshal would help to establish prestige and win the hearts of the troops. Still, it is better for you to take up this position yourself! I can act as the Deputy Marshal, if the expedition is successful, the honor will be yours, and if, by any chance, we fail, I will bear the responsibility... My son, my future is already set, but yours has limitless possibilities!"


    Hearing his father¡¯s sincere words, the young man fell silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.


    Having established the hierarchy of command, the two of them discussed the specifics of military deployment and the arrangement of the various camps.


    After adjustments, the trusted central army was positioned in the main fortress. The central army consisted of four thousand Holy City Warriors, two thousand Temple Guards, as well as the Longbow trusted aide camp and the Jaguar Warrior Brigade, totaling about seven thousand men. Next, both the left and right armies were comprised of three thousand Royal Family¡¯s direct Samurai and an additional thousand Longbow Warriors, led respectively by Balda and Tepopolo, stationed in the left and right fortresses. The rear army consisted of three thousand City-State Warriors from the west, spread out in outer camps, also responsible for surveillance patrols. As for logistics and provisions, the majority were stored in the main fortress, with each smaller fortress only distributing a month¡¯s worth of supplies.


    Xiulote pulled out a wooden map, bringing up the latest military information.


    "Father, I plan to bypass the fortress defense line along the southern shore. I¡¯ve learned from captives of the previous ambush that the southern fortresses have been well-established over the years; their defenses are strong, terrain complicated, and they support each other. Stone Forts and Wooden Forts house local Nobility and Militia."


    "Determined to protect their property, their will to fight is very strong; they even took the initiative to fight once, driving off raiding Samurai squads. Now, they have chosen to defend their positions and are mobilizing able-bodied men into the city. To break through so many fortresses one by one is unwise, and we do not have the manpower."


    Xiuxoke looked at the pattern on the map, mentally constructing the situation in the southern front. After a while, he nodded in agreement.


    "So, you are preparing to head south from Lake Cuitzeo? Then the Rivermouth Fortress in the south will be the biggest obstacle to your journey south."


    Xiulote smiled confidently.


    "Indeed, I already have a general plan for the siege. According to the latest intelligence, the main force of the Tarasco Naval Forces has moved downstream to the west, going to meet reinforcements from the Chapala Lake Region. This round trip will span hundreds, even thousands of miles, plus troop assembly, and there will be nearly a month¡¯s time when the Rivermouth Fortress will be in a relatively weakened state."


    At that point, Xiulote hesitated a bit.


    "Father, our reinforcements have already arrived, and we temporarily have the advantage in numbers. I am now hesitant over whether to seize this opportunity to send troops southward and quickly take the Rivermouth Fortress by storm. If we can capture the Rivermouth Fortress before the autumn harvest mobilization, the situation will turn sharply, and the path ahead will suddenly become wide open!"


    Xiuxoke looked surprised, incredulously staring at the young man.


    "How can such a solid fortress be breached by an army in a month? How confident are you?"


    Xiulote smiled, answering cautiously.


    "I invented a new type of weapon, very powerful... About a fifty percent chance, if the enemy is unprepared, that it can blast open wooden doors and allow the samurai to pour in!"


    Xiuxoke thought for a while. He then examined the map and the troop deployments in detail and asked,


    "Xiulote, have you ever actually used this weapon in previous wars?"


    Xiulote fell silent momentarily, then shook his head.


    Xiuxoke understood. He patted his son on the shoulder again, advising him,


    "My son, in real warfare, a commander must always consider the worst case scenario and leave room for all possibilities. Various unexpected coincidences always happen, and they often bring about the worst results. When you have an advantage, you should further expand your advantage, suppressing the enemy from the front. Taking a risky gamble usually is only the last resort when at a disadvantage and desperate."


    "Venturing south with our main force before dealing with the Tarasco fleet, getting involved in an uncertain siege, is a reckless choice. Once the enemy forces converge and reinforcements arrive, and the naval forces threaten the rear, the army might face destruction."


    Hearing his father¡¯s teachings, Xiulote thought for a moment and nodded.


    "A truly skilled great general always plans before a battle, not seeking an epic victory of coming back from the brink of death. They always manage the situation, defeating an enemy already destined to lose with a position ensured to win."


    At those words, Xiuxoke savored the moment and then laughed in approval.


    "Where did my son hear such profound principles of commanding troops? Indeed, those are brilliant words."


    After that, Xiuxoke continued pointing at the map, gesturing towards the north,


    "Xiulote, the first priority of the army is to manage the situation and take the initiative. Your original plan was actually quite good. Seizing the opportunity while the Tarasco fleet is absent, we must first remove the unstable elements behind us, dragging the Otomi into the water! Once the army heads south, we can¡¯t leave our weak rear to the untrustworthy Otomi."


    Xiulote nodded in agreement, smiling slightly.


    "Father, great minds think alike! Our forces finally have the advantage. As soon as the heavy rains let up, I¡¯ll lead troops north, forcing the Otomi to make a choice, to fight alongside us against the Tarascans!"


    Xiuxoke nodded with a smile. Then, remembering his own experiences and that critical strike during the battle of the two kings, he reminded his son with a serious expression,


    "Xiulote, if the Otomi agree to send troops, just to be safe, don¡¯t integrate their forces with the Northern Route Army!"


    Xiulote was slightly startled and asked,


    "What does Father think we should do?"


    Xiuxoke moved his finger forward, pointing to the west side of the Lerma River, to the Sakapu State of Tarasco,


    "Right here. If the Otomi sincerely cooperate with the Alliance, they¡¯re also unlikely to go to the southern defenses and bang their heads against a rock, losing precious warriors. Sakapu State is directly across from the Otomi Guamare State, situated between the Chapala Lake Region and the southern defense line. There shouldn¡¯t be many Tarasco defending forces here, and the towns are also rather prosperous. Deploying a contingent here would not only draw troops from the southern line but also attract the attention of Chapala reinforcements."


    Looking at the map, Xiulote¡¯s eyes lit up,


    "Excellent! The Tarasco¡¯s Otomi mercenaries come from here. In the southern forests, there are small Otomi tribes as well, which have ties to the Otomi in the north. Emphasizing an attack here as a condition for negotiations makes it easier for the Otomi to agree!"


    With that, the two men looked at each other and laughed heartily, in full agreement.


    The campfire flickered, and a warm breeze brought relaxation to the body and mind. Father and son conversed long into the night, with many old memories surfacing. Unbeknownst to them, outside, the first light of dawn was already breaking.


    Early the next day, a team of envoys hastened from the main fortress, bringing the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s latest demands to the Capital City in the north.


    The rain continued, and another week passed in the blink of an eye. The Otomi, at last, sent an envoy in response. The parties agreed that their leaders would meet in person, formally setting negotiations in the woods between the Capital City of Otapan and the north coast¡¯s Wooden Fort.


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 Chapter 330 - 171 - Alliance Under the City

    Heavy rains fell in August, dark clouds shrouded the fields, turning the world into a swamp. It was not a season for waging war; thus, the battles briefly halted. The Mexica Alliance and the Tarasco Kingdom were both mobilizing troops, preparing for a more brutal conflict.


    The rainy season persisted, and the new batch of gunpowder weapons had to be stored in the innermost parts of the warehouse, unusable. They were wrapped layer by layer, placed in sealed pottery jars, and carefully stored. The saltpeter in the gunpowder had hygroscopic properties, absorbing moisture from the humid air, reducing the effectiveness of the gunpowder; thus, it needed frequent airing. Moreover, saltpeter was soluble in water¡ªif washed away by heavy rain, it would lose potency.


    Xiulote stood atop the watchtower of the wooden fort, bidding farewell once again to the departing naval forces. In this rainy season, when gunpowder weapons were hard to use, the Alliance¡¯s naval forces had no clear advantage to decisively battle the Tarasco naval forces. The young commander thus sent Annatri back toward the east again to bring more reinforcements from the capital city.


    Annatri still stood tall and steadfast on the grand vessel amidst the rain. She was vibrant, saluting the commander-in-chief¡¯s flag as a farewell. Then, her gaze shifted, landing on Bertade, standing behind the young commander, her eyes blazing with a fierce combat spirit, her expression unabashedly admiring.


    As wind and rain mingled together, the naval fleet, having only rested for a few days, set sail once again toward the east. Xiulote watched the vast fleet sailing upstream against the current, as the warrior women on the big ships slowly faded from view. He then turned around, smiling at the Head Warrior. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Bertade, I heard that last time during the send-off, you and Annatri had a match. Who won in the end? You seemed to return quite late that day."


    The serene Head Warrior lifted his head, gazing silently at His Highness for a moment, before answering in a deep voice.


    "We had two bouts, with no winner or loser... Your Highness, we should set off to the north, to negotiate with the Otomi people."


    Xiulote smiled faintly, nodding his head.


    "Let the new reinforcements guard the fort. Take the ten thousand forces that have rested and prepare, and we shall march north tomorrow!"


    At early dawn the next day, as the rain eased slightly, ten thousand Mexica warriors gathered at the main fortress, equipped with forests of war clubs and longbows. Fully armed and long-prepared, they were ready to engage in battle at any moment. The prolonged stationing had made the warriors crave combat.


    Xiulote entrusted the defense of the main fortress to his father. Then, he shouldered the battle flag, waved a large hand, and as the march flute sounded, the large army slowly set out.


    The Mexica army surged forth, scouts spread ten miles ahead, and the spearhead pointed north. The ten thousand warriors traversed dense, undulating forests, passing through sparsely populated villages in the mountains, until they reached the vast fields a few dozen miles south of Otapan City. Here, the Milpa fields began to crowd, the lands brimming with vibrant new sprouts, representing the Otomi people¡¯s hope for the new year.


    The farmers in the fields, intimidated by the massive army, fled north in terror, abandoning the fields they had labored over for months. Memories of Mexica¡¯s aggression from a year ago were still vivid and unforgettable. The Otomi scouts kept a distant watch, continuously passing unsettling news.


    Xiulote ordered the warriors to avoid the fields, choosing suitable terrain to set up camp, and prepared for war. As the heavy rain fell again, the young commander calmly awaited inside the newly erected encampment.


    Two days later, the Otomi negotiation team hastily arrived, accompanied by only a few hundred warriors.


    Xiulote did not leave the camp to meet them. Dressed in the solemn attire of a commander-in-chief, wearing a high, vibrant feather crown, and with a gold sun amulet around his neck, he sat high in the large tent of the encampment. On Otomi land, he welcomed the guests who lived there with the demeanor of a host.


    Xiulote, expressionless, looked at the envoys entering the large tent.


    The Otomi envoy was an old acquaintance. Nearly a year had passed, and the young commander once again saw the old Priest Olte. The latter was pale and withered, his formidable presence diminished.


    The priest lifted his all-white head, scrutinizing the young commander seated above, his pupils contracting slightly. Xiulote watched him calmly, noting his unusually aged face and still clear eyes.


    Jiowar¡¯s robust frame stood erect, his narrow, sharp eyes glaring like a defiant coyote, staring fixedly at the young commander in the center. His hands were empty, his large knuckles clenched, still projecting a powerful aura. Bertade frowned, feeling the intense hostility, and immediately gripped his war club tighter.


    After a moment of silent confrontation, Xiulote was the first to speak.


    "In the name of Huitzilopochtli, the Chief Divine! I come with the warrior¡¯s war club and feathers of peace. Otomi people, my patience is limited, I cannot wait too long. Do not let the feathers fall from my hands!"


    Hearing the clear threat, fire rose in Jiowar¡¯s eyes, he clenched his fists audibly, yet remained silent.


    The old Priest Olte nodded, took a deep breath, and called out loudly.


    "In the name of Ometeotl, the Primordial God! I come bearing the greetings of a friend. Mexica people, our sides have long ceased fire and established a divine-witnessed treaty. Now, in this busy and beautiful season, you come with a great army, do you intend to break the sacred treaty?!"


    Xiulote answered unflinchingly.


    "Otomi people, the sacred treaty remains in effect. The violators of the treaty are you! You accepted the conditions of the Alliance, received the last batch of food, and promised to launch an attack on the Tarasco people in the south. However, you did not keep your word; you only pretended to comply! As the great army came from the west, I witnessed with my own eyes that the Tarasco people¡¯s spring farming was all in order, undisturbed. Now, I need an explanation, and more importantly, a compensation!"

 Chapter 331 - 171 - Alliance Under the City_2

    Olte slightly bowed his head, suppressing his powerless anger. He closed his eyes and then reopened them, speaking calmly and with deep resonance. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Mexica people, we have harassed the southern coast, and the samurai have shed blood. As you can see, the south is heavily guarded, replete with stone forts and wooden fortresses, and the samurai¡¯s blood should not flow there in vain... We are willing to hand over a large amount of gold, silver, and gemstones as a gesture of our commitment to peace!"


    Xiulote observed for a moment, the old priest was composed, while Jiowar showed a look of anger. Then, he shook his head calmly and got straight to the point.


    "The gaze of the Chief Divine sees all, and nothing can hide from it. Wise Priest Olte, you should understand this. As the Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Route Army, I cannot tolerate any potential tacit understanding between you and the Tarasco people!"


    Upon hearing this, the old priest became stern, looking at the young commander with an imposing demeanor, and he sighed inwardly.


    "The desire of the Otomi people has never been concealed, it is only for peace and cultivation. Kind His Highness Xiulote, we do not wish to partake in the conflict between the Mexica Alliance and the Tarasco Kingdom. As witnessed by the Primordial God, we will not favor any side!"


    Xiulote looked into Olte¡¯s eyes, smiled faintly, and continued to shake his head ruthlessly.


    "Priest Olte, I may believe in your sincerity, but I cannot trust the Otomi people. The Northern Route Army cannot possibly march south and leave you behind us, taking on an immense and uncertain risk. You must make your position clear, in the war that will determine the fate of the world, are you Allies of the Mexica, or their enemies? Choose, Otomi people, survival or destruction!"


    Hearing the unmistakable threat, General Jiowar couldn¡¯t hold back any longer, and he roared with anger.


    "Warlike Mexica people, the Otomi also do not fear war! The mountain city Otapan City is as unshakeable as a meteorite from heaven, and even in an entire Era, you could not breach it! If you insist on war, it will be your own destruction!"


    The old priest did not stop him. He let General Jiowar speak out, only staring intently at Xiulote¡¯s expression.


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes slightly lowered. He paused for a moment, then announced calmly.


    "If you are unwilling to join the Alliance in battle, the Northern Route Army will stop its southern advance and instead turn north. Starting from the end of the month, we will destroy your autumn harvest! Within a month, all your toil will be reduced to ashes, a Quarter¡¯s hard work will be wasted, not even the seeds will be salvaged. Another year without a harvest, by this time next year, you will suffer the famine of a destroyed homeland!"


    Hearing such a cruel declaration, Jiowar erupted like a volcano, roaring fiercely.


    "First you want to destroy the spring plowing, and now the autumn harvest. Destroying the harvest, wicked Mexica people! There are just over ten thousand of you here. If we agree to the Tarasco envoy, we could join forces to expel you, pushing you into the turbulent Lerma River!"


    Hearing mention of Tarasco¡¯s envoy, Xiulote¡¯s gaze sharpened. Then, with a solemn and indifferent response, he said.


    "Face reality, Otomi people! Two Mexica armies are bearing down on you, and the southern front is the main offensive force. A hundred thousand Mexica samurai attacking day and night, the state of Xitaqualo is on the brink, the Tarasco people can hardly protect themselves! They will not risk marching north to siege a sturdy Wooden Fort. Without their Naval Forces¡¯ main force, they can¡¯t even cross the river!"


    Then, Xiulote confidently smiled.


    "A fresh batch of reinforcements has already arrived, the Northern Route Army now has twenty thousand samurai, with more successive forces continuing to pour in. This is a force you cannot resist! Besides, the era is changing, new types of weapons have emerged, and Ototpan Mountain City will no longer be able to shelter you!"


    Hearing the mention of new weapons, the old priest Olte¡¯s demeanor shifted. He pondered for a moment and then raised his hand, halting Jiowar¡¯s roaring.


    "Respected His Highness Xiulote, I have heard from the scouts that during your attack on the wooden fortresses along the north coast of the Lerma River, you used a kind of powerful longbow. Could we possibly see it for ourselves?"


    Hearing the old priest¡¯s abrupt request, Xiulote was slightly taken aback. He thought it over in his heart, considering the capture from the Tarasco people, and eventually nodded.


    "Ters, shoot an arrow outside the tent, then show them the real thing," he said.


    As the guards opened the tent¡¯s door, the fresh breeze brushed against their faces, bringing with it a moistness from the water, revitalizing everyone.


    Then, Ters, the trusted aide, smiled plainly. He turned around on the spot, holding the longbow, took out a copper arrow, and readied it. The plain samurai¡¯s gaze shifted slightly and settled on a wooden box fifty meters away, where the Otomi were delivering gifts. He took aim, the longbow twanged resonantly, and with the release of an arrow, the copper arrow streaked like lightning through the open tent door, and thunked into the wooden box, with the tail of the arrow quivering continuously.


    Jiowar¡¯s countenance turned serious. He strode forward and forcefully pulled the copper arrow from the box, standing dumbstruck for a moment. Then, he silently returned to the priest¡¯s side, whispering two sentences in the latter¡¯s ear, the old priest¡¯s expression turning solemn.


    Ters, holding the Greatbow, also approached the old priest¡¯s side.


    The old priest Olte took a step closer, bending down. He opened his aged eyes, gaze burning like torches, scrutinizing each detail meticulously.


    He examined the sturdy longbow, approximated the length of its body with his hands, then tested the hardness of the wood with his nail, frowning slightly. This type of hard wood was extremely difficult to work with, requiring scarce copper tools, and a long time to craft. Then, he felt the wrapped silk strings of the bowstring, observed the joint between the bow body and the string, and analyzed the specific technical details.

 Chapter 332 - 171 - Alliance Under the City_3

    Then, he took the Copper Feathered Arrows offered by Jiowar and leaned in to examine the cylindrical wooden shaft. He tested the hardness of the shaft with his fingernail once more, furrowing his brows deeply, noting that making such shafts required more labor. The copper heads, sturdy shafts, and costly feathers were costs the Otomi could not afford.


    Finally, he looked at the slope-shaped bone ring on Ters¡¯s hand and let out a long sigh.


    "Mexica people, you are indeed mighty and the wealthiest. Being able to equip such sturdy longbows and expend such costly feathered arrows in large quantities, your craftsmen must indeed number in the thousands!" Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After a moment of contemplation, Olte¡¯s tone shifted as he stared intently at Xiulote¡¯s face.


    "However, Your Highness Xiulote, even with these weapons, the idea of threatening Ototpan Mountain City remains but a fantasy! You cannot afford the loss of samurai in a siege. Unless you have other preparations?..."


    Xiulote responded with a confident, calm smile. He remained serene, not answering directly, but instead spoke.


    "Priest Olte, the Alliance only needs you to march southward, to plunder the lands of the Tarasco! We will aid your river crossing and cover your retreat. We need not the spoils of plunder, all the wealth will belong to you. Similarly, this time, you need not attack the fortress-dense Akanbaro State. Otomi Warriors may freely choose to head westwards, plundering across from Guamare State to Saka State, or even the affluent Chapala Lake Region!"


    At this, Xiulote paused slightly. He looked solemnly at the old priest.


    "Priest Olte, you were born in Guamare State, you know the surroundings far better than I. There are familiar Otomi Tribes there; I believe you can find suitable targets!"


    Olte pondered for a moment, then inquired about the most crucial point.


    "Your Highness Xiulote, you ask us to join the war against the Tarasco, but allow us to operate independently and choose our own targets?"


    Xiulote nodded and frankly replied.


    "Exactly so. Priest Olte, we need more deeds to establish mutual trust, and it is not suitable to form Allied Forces directly. However, I will dispatch small squads of samurai to follow your troops and provide regular updates. You must truly engage Tarasco in combat, otherwise... the Alliance will not tolerate another breach of contract!"


    Listening to these words, the old priest Olte fell into a deep silence. Jiowar first glared menacingly at the Mexica people. Then, anxiously ruffling his hair, he awaited the old priest¡¯s wise final decision.


    The fire in the large tent crackled, the wind outside the tent howled mournfully, the silent tent was filled with struggling hearts. After a long while, Olte struggled to turn his gaze to the Mexica¡¯s Commander-in-Chief, the familiar young His Highness.


    "Your Highness Xiulote, we signed the last pact. You provided Ototpan City with food for five months as promised, helping us through the toughest times. I do not believe in the Mexica Alliance, but I believe in you, and I am willing to make an oath only with you!"


    The old priest¡¯s eyes flashed with an unusual brilliance. Staring at the throne, he finally roared loudly, profoundly moving the gathering.


    "The divine pact has ended! To make us join the war against the Tarasco, you must invoke the name of our revered ancestors! Cut your hair, slice your palm, and in the presence of all commanders, sign a lifetime Blood Oath with the Otomi, engraving all promises on indestructible stone tablets!"


    Xiulote remained silent for a long while, finally nodding slowly with a complex expression.


    "Priest Olte, thank you for your trust. Who will make this oath with me, is it you?"


    The old priest Olte shook his head firmly. He turned and pointed his finger at the shocked and pale Jiowar.


    "No! My life is nearing its end. The one who will make the lifetime Blood Oath with you will be him!"

 Chapter 333 - 172 - Oath of Alliance

    The wind howled, and dark clouds hung low, casting a hush over the large tent. This was the moment that would determine the fate of the north, as the flickering campfire illuminated each solemn face.


    Xiulote scrutinized General Jiowar for a while. Then, he pondered for a moment before looking towards the elder Priest. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Priest Olte, what kind of alliance do you wish to forge? Alliance, city-state, or personal?"


    Priest Olte was well-prepared. He spoke loudly,


    "All three, a brotherhood pact if you will. The Mexica Alliance as the elder brother, the Otomi Alliance as the younger, the Holy City as the elder, Otapan City as the younger, you as the elder, and Jiowar as the younger brother. Both sides will establish a pact, maintaining harmony with one another. When one is under attack, the other must send troops to assist; when one goes on the offensive, the other has the duty to support!"


    Hearing this, Bertade¡¯s complexion changed dramatically. He stepped forward and rebuked loudly,


    "Your Highness, as the nascent sun of the Mexica, and the future master of all under heaven, how can you be sworn brothers with a general from the Otomi?"


    Xiulote pondered for a brief moment, nodded slightly to the Head Warrior, and then spoke,


    "Priest Olte, I am not yet in the position to fully represent the Alliance. The Alliance will never agree to a brotherhood pact, as the Mexica only accept subordinates! Besides, can you represent the nobility of the various states within the Otomi Alliance?"


    Priest Olte bowed his head slightly, revealing his full head of white hair. Since the last treaty, when he had to forfeit Xilotepec City, his prestige had greatly diminished. It was quite sometime later that the elder Priest spoke in a deep voice,


    "Indeed, I cannot represent the nobility of the various states. I am a religious leader, only representing the ancestral state of Otapan, and to the best of my ability to constrain the states of Guamare and Pamus. The negotiations this time will be in the form of a treaty between the Mexica Alliance and the Otomi Alliance. The Otomi will send a full legion to respond to war in exchange for food support from the Mexica people."


    Then, Priest Olte calmly said,


    "As long as I live, the treaty between the two alliances will be secured. If I die, Jiowar will still need your support to control Otapan City."


    Xiulote watched for a while and nodded,


    "I agree, you will send troops to war in exchange for a new batch of food. Similarly, I can support Jiowar, but it cannot be a brotherly relationship¡ªthe line of the Holy City cannot accept this condition!"


    Priest Olte closed his eyes, his aged face quivering. After a long while, he suddenly opened his eyes and roared in a low voice,


    "Then let the two city-states be sworn as brothers, with you two nominally brothers but actually subordinates! Jiowar needs enough prestige to take control of Otapan City. Henceforth, the two states will be closely related politically and united in secret. The military will respond in war, allowing each other¡¯s armies to pass, and we will present hostages in exchange for your protection within the Alliance!"


    Hearing this, Jiowar¡¯s expression changed dramatically, and he clenched his hands tightly. He looked at the Young Commander, who was only the age of his own son. Then he turned to look at Priest Olte, an elderly man whose face was withered and energy nearly exhausted. After a long moment, he bowed his head deeply, saying nothing.


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was serious, and he fell into deep thought. With the talk having reached this point, the Priest¡¯s intention was very direct. Jiowar represented Otapan City, pledging allegiance to him alone. The Otapan line would secure protection from the Holy City line by means of an unequal treaty, henceforth binding them together. This was a path he had never anticipated.


    After a while, Xiulote laughed aloud. His eyes sparkled, no longer concealing the heroic aspirations in his heart.


    "Olte, you¡¯ve managed to achieve this! You¡¯ve seized the most ingenious opportunity to find the most suitable chances for the Otomi people. I truly admire you for that! At this time, I cannot refuse your proposition. Come then, let us make an unbreakable blood oath under the most sacred of ceremonies, witnessed by the gods and ancestors alike!"


    Upon hearing this, the elder Priest nodded calmly. No trace of joy appeared on his face. He simply performed a respectful ritual, honoring the path he had found.


    Soon, the Priests accompanying the army became busy. Fragrant holy smoke rose within the large tent, and the roaring Sacred Fire was lit at the center. Priests played the distant sound of bamboo flutes. The commanders beat the deep tones of wooden drums, and the remaining Samurai began the War Dance around the center of the ceremony.


    In the center of the large tent, a young Priest was the first to dance. He took up the long-unused Divine Staff and danced the Priest¡¯s dance of the Holy City, chanting clear and melodious prayers. His movements were slow and dignified, like a stalking Jaguar; his singing was high-pitched and sharp, like the cry of a soaring eagle.


    The elder Priest took out an ancient ceramic mask. Half of the mask was black, and the other half was white. It was a treasured item inherited by the Otomi people for a thousand years, from the distant Olmec Era. He covered his cheeks with the mask and began an ancient dance, then rapidly swayed and shook like the Feathered Serpent of myth. Throughout the ancient ritual dance, he intermittently made low hissing sounds, the frequency of the serpent¡¯s voice was spine-chilling, making one¡¯s hair stand on end. Sometimes, he would also emit a low chant, speaking of age-old legends in an incomprehensible cadence.


    A mysterious atmosphere permeated the large tent; everyone wore a stern and focused expression. In their hearts, such a sacred ceremony was real and imbued with Divine Power. To violate such a high-oath would be to suffer a devastating blow to one¡¯s reputation.


    The sacred Priestly dance lasted for a full half hour, and then, both old and young Priests stopped. Xiulote was covered in sweat, while Olte swayed on the brink of collapse. Both men approached the center where the Sacred Fire burned, each calling upon different deities to descend. As the names of the gods were invoked, the commanders and the Samurai also halted their actions, kneeling on one knee and praying towards the center.

 Chapter 334 - 172 - Oath of Alliance_2

    Next, Olte beckoned, and Jiowar approached solemnly. Bertade also moved to the center, closely guarding His Highness. The priests accompanying the army mixed a large cup of ice-cold cocoa and presented it before the Sacred Fire.


    Xiulote looked across at Jiowar and nodded to his old friend. Then, he pulled out the Obsidian Dagger, cut off a lock of his hair, and cast it into the Sacred Fire. Jiowar did the same, and a faint burnt smell instantly dispersed.


    Then, the Young Commander unfurled his left hand. Without hesitation, he sliced the palm with the sharp Dagger. The sting came instantly, and blood dripped down, staining the cocoa below red. He then handed the sacrificial Dagger to Jiowar, while the Head Warrior at his side remained on alert.


    Jiowar took the Dagger and cut deeply into the side of his palm. More blood flowed, falling continuously into the cocoa. The sacred cocoa turned a vivid red as both their bloods mingled together.


    Afterward, Xiulote picked up the clay cup from the ground and drank deeply from half of the blood-red beverage. A metallic taste similar to mushrooms lingered in his mouth, accompanied by the inherent bitterness of cocoa.


    "Under the watch of the Chief Divine! I, Xiulote of Teotihuacan, descendant of my predecessor monarch Acamapichtli, do swear by the spirit of my ancestors, to establish a blood oath alliance with Jiowar of Otapan!


    I will regard Jiowar as a younger brother, a loyal vassal to me. For the entirety of my life, I will grant him protection. Protect his life, protect the city-state of Otapan, protect the citizens of the Otomi! The oath stands as it is made. Should I break this vow, may humans and gods alike forsake me!" Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote recited loudly, the solemn ceremony evoking a special sentiment. In the distant divine smoke, he felt somewhat transfixed, as if he really could sense the touch of his ancestors and the gaze of the gods.


    Jiowar was extraordinarily solemn. He took the clay cup, drained the other half of the blood-red liquid in one gulp. Then, he pressed his bleeding palm to his chest, staring at the Sacred Fire with his narrow eyes, and shouted loudly.


    "Under the watch of the Primordial God! I, Jiowar of Otapan City, descendant of my predecessor monarch Otapan, do swear by the spirit of my ancestors, to establish a blood oath alliance with Xiulote of Teotihuacan!


    I will regard Xiulote as an elder brother, a noble liege to me. For all my life, I will pledge my loyalty. Guard his life, provide the armies and tribute of Otapan, ensure that the people of the Otomi become his obedient citizens! The oath stands as it is made. If I violate this oath, may I suffer Divine Punishment, my blood be drained, my limbs be severed! May my ancestors witness my oath, I engrave the covenant on my face!"


    As he said this, Jiowar¡¯s gaze was sharp, watching the scars on Bertade¡¯s cheeks. He lifted the blade, pressed it to his own face, and, unfazed, cut similar marks. Then, he stood there calmly, with a hint of defiance, looking at the young liege before him.


    Xiulote nodded calmly. He removed the Sun Amulet from around his neck and pointed his bloodied finger toward the ground. Blood fell, dust rose, and a red stain spread across the earth.


    Jiowar paused for a moment. He understood the significance and immediately hesitated, turning to look at the old Priest Olte.


    The old priest¡¯s pupils shrank as he spoke softly.


    "Your Highness, for thousands of years, the Primordial God has blessed the Otomi people. It is our heartfelt belief."


    Xiulote shook his head solemnly and declared resolutely.


    "Olte, the Chief Divine is supreme above all! The Primordial God can step down to be a Saint. If the Otomi people are to truly integrate into the Alliance, they must ultimately reverence the War God as the highest. Of course, this is not urgent, and Jiowar need not convert publicly. But at this moment, he must accept the amulet of the Chief Divine, and secretly convert here!"


    Olte looked at His Highness, feeling the adamant determination. After a long silence, he nodded solemnly.


    Jiowar was stunned for a long while, feeling as if weighed down by a great burden on his knees. Xiulote did not hasten him but waited calmly. The face of the Otapan General was wrought with protracted struggle, emotions shifting endlessly, unable to settle. Eventually, the old Priest sighed softly and gently patted his shoulder.


    "My child, I have watched you grow since you were little. Your father died in the ongoing slaughter of war, your son in the disease that followed the siege¡¯s famine. Generation after generation of Otomi have perished in war and famine. We have struggled to maintain the heritage of our clan in the north, battling wave upon wave of invaders. For the continuity of our tribe, everything can be sacrificed. Even our precious beliefs are a measurable cost... how could they be an exception?"


    Hearing this, Jiowar was shocked as he looked at the usually devout old Priest. A turmoil of emotions churned in his chest. His whole being was inflamed, wanting to cry out, but in the end, he suddenly lost strength and knelt before Xiulote.


    Xiulote once again looked deeply at the old Priest. Then, the young Priest nodded gravely, placing the silver amulet around Jiowar¡¯s neck and then taking hold of his hair.


    "Jiowar, in the presence of the Chief Divine, you will swear an oath to Him, obtaining the sacred duty to illuminate the glory of the Chief Divine! Come, chant His divine name with me, Huitzilopochtli..."


    "Huitzilopochtli..."


    Jiowar¡¯s face showed no luster. In the presence of the new deity, he had lost his steadfast faith and also the defiant pride in his heart, like a coyote being tamed.


    Xiulote watched Jiowar¡¯s expression and nodded in satisfaction.


    "Jiowar, let go of everything in the past, I promise you a future!"


    The weathered Priest turned away, not looking at the scene until the end of the conversion ritual.


    The sky gradually darkened, and the oath ceremony neared its end. Once again, the old and young priests stood facing each other, gazing into each other¡¯s faces.


    "Olte, why did you choose me?" Xiulote looked at the old Priest before him, who seemed to have aged even more.


    "Your Highness, I have observed you for a long time, gathered much information. I have witnessed your rapid growth and seen a boundless future." Olte replied calmly.


    Xiulote was silent for a moment before asking again.


    "Why choose me?"


    "As the situation in the world changes, everything will transform. Out of necessity, you will be the hope for the continuity of the Otomi people." After pondering for a moment, Olte gave the answer in his heart.


    "Why?" the young man asked.


    This time, Olte thought for a long time. Only after a while did he slowly respond.


    "Because... you are not a ruler without principles... you are a... trustworthy good person."


    Xiulote was silent for a long time. At last, he waved his hand and turned to leave. Behind him, Olte gave a deep bow.


    The mutual oath was formally signed. Under the profound twilight, the envoy group of the Otomi hastened away. Xiulote sat in the big tent, silently watching the darkening sky, lost in long thoughts. Light and darkness interwove repeatedly in the young man¡¯s heart, weaving a blended grey. Behind him, Bertade stood quietly, having witnessed the vicissitudes of the world.


    The Mexica army waited for another two days. An eight-thousand-strong Xiquipilli legion marched out from Otapan City, led by Jiowar, officially joining the Northern Route Army of the Mexica.


    Xiulote, leading his escort, was overjoyed to welcome the Otapan legion, but was at a loss for words for a moment. Among the legion promised by the old Priest Olte, only three thousand were lean samurai capable of battle. As for the remaining five thousand Otomi militiamen, each was skinny and bony, with sunken eyes from hunger, likely not having had a full meal for months.


    The Young Commander watched for a moment and shook his head with a wry smile. These militiamen could only be used as laborers and would need sufficient food, at least half a month of nurturing, no wonder the old Priest agreed so readily. However, the shipping capacity of the Mexica¡¯s Naval Forces was limited, and there were not enough laborers in the Northern Route Army. With these people, many miscellaneous tasks could be handled. Some labor-intensive siege engines began to appear in his mind, like tower cars that fully utilized the range advantage and complex structure, as well as mounds built up for high platforms.


    Having achieved their objective, the Mexica¡¯s grand army then turned back south, returning to the wooden fort on the banks of the Lerma River. The Otomi were dispersed and settled in two camps far from the main fort. The warriors of Otapan maintained an independent organization, self-contained. The five thousand militiamen were organized to cut down forest trees and produce siege engines. The continuous rain kept falling, but the intensity began to lessen. The rainy season had passed its peak, and new opportunities for battle were brewing.


    Time hurried on, and in the blink of an eye, it was September. Tarasco¡¯s fleet returned from the west, bringing full shiploads of Chapala reinforcements. Seeing the gradually gathering enemy, Xiulote felt some anxiety. He dispatched a large number of scouts to keep watch on the southern banks at all times.


    On another clear morning, after completing his morning exercises, Xiulote went up to the ramparts to gaze into the distance. The rain was gradually clearing and the clouds thinning. Under the gradually emerging sunlight, the vast Mexica fleet finally appeared once more from the east of the great river.

 Chapter 335 - 173: Luring the Enemy Again

    September sun spread across the earth, the rainfall noticeably decreased, becoming sporadic. It was the beginning of the harvest season. Under the warm tropical climate, the early-ripening pumpkins had already been harvested, the mature cowpeas were about to be reaped, and the blooming corn swayed in the fields. A gust of wind swept past, leaving the mountain wilderness lush and verdant, scattering the ripe aroma of various fruits. Yet, when it reached the banks of the Lerma River, all that could be seen was desolation and solemnity.


    The main force of Annatri¡¯s fleet, along with a large contingent of reinforcements, had arrived, with the new batch of the Capital City¡¯s food supply accompanying them.


    Eight thousand Spear Legionnaires disembarked at the port in succession, gathering in squad formations. The Militia were fully armed, donning Paper Armor, tightly fastening their Rattan Helmets, carrying shields on their backs, and tightly clutching bronze spears in their hands as they curiously surveyed both banks of the great river. Guzman did the same, as a miner and farmer since childhood, he had never ventured beyond fifty miles from his hometown. On this unfamiliar land, he stood subconsciously straight, sticking close to his comrades. His gaze intently followed the approaching banner of His Highness and the Legion Commander who was hastening forward to salute.


    Xiulote smiled as he lifted "Monkey" Kuluka from the ground, patting his shoulder affectionately.


    "Monkey, it¡¯s been a long time, you¡¯ve become much sturdier. You did very well with the last bronze mine purchase! How has the Spear Legion¡¯s training been this time?"


    Kuluka nodded respectfully, his eyes bright. In the presence of His Highness, he subconsciously scratched his head and replied with a smile.


    "Respected sovereign, I have always missed your teachings, never daring to forget your commands for a moment. These days, I have been practicing with the Legion, sometimes even joining the ranks to feel it. Over the months, the Spear Formations can now quickly disperse and form. The formations move and change direction at a slower speed to maintain their shape. As for the column charge you mentioned in your letter, I¡¯ve tried it a few times and will continue to explore it with the Adjutant Ezpan."


    Xiulote nodded. He looked at the orderly new troops gathering on the riverbank, his smile growing more pronounced. Then, turning to Ezpan, who was kneeling in salute behind Kuluka, he cracked a joke.


    "Ezpan, now we are on your turf. A fish back in its pond might slip away before you realize... You¡¯re more familiar with the local culture and geography here, you¡¯ll have to give me more advice!"


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s words, Ezpan didn¡¯t hesitate, prostrating himself on the ground. Then, he raised his left hand, missing parts of his little finger, and spoke earnestly.


    "Your Highness, the Chief Divine as my witness, my loyalty to you is unwavering, willing to give my life at any moment! The fish has landed, and from now on, it is the wolfhound following the King. I am ready to give my all for the expedition westward!"


    Xiulote watched Ezpan¡¯s expression for a while, then also laughed as he lifted him up, praising him loudly.


    "Excellent! This is your vast realm where you will make a great impact!"


    Afterward, Xiulote looked again at Kuluka, who had gathered closer.


    "Monkey, how is your cooperation with Ezpan?"


    With a moment¡¯s thought, Kuluka replied with a clear smile.


    "Sovereign, Ezpan is an outstanding deputy commander, the most critical pillar of the Legion!"


    Only then did Xiulote nod again. He smiled and asked about another matter.


    "Where is the Mayan merchant Tikalo now? How is the situation?"


    After pondering, Kuluka gave a bow and reported.


    "According to the reports from those close to Tikalo, he is now being directed by the Royal Family¡¯s Intelligence Officer, serving as the communication channel between the southern Weytamo state and the Alliance. The Alliance has already sent two envoys, and the Chieftains of Weytamo have been persuaded by the terms of the Alliance to remain neutral in the war. The trade of the bronze mine continues, but the management rights are now in the hands of the Royal Family."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then slightly nodded. . The bronze mines, as the most crucial strategic resources, surely needed to be managed directly by the central authority. Now it seems that the Royal Family line was resolved to secure the bronze mines of Weytamo.


    While they conversed, the Spear Legion had completely disembarked, followed by tribal Hunters in plain clothes, carrying Longbows.


    Xiulote looked towards the riverbank. These mountain Hunters moved with steady strides, nonchalant about the rough weather they faced along the way. Being accustomed to fishing and hunting, most were familiar with boating. At this moment, they gathered by tribe, following the calls of their Chieftains, somewhat disorganized but busy without chaos.


    "Black Wolf" Toltec strode forward with his head held high, marching towards the banner of His Highness. With a few steps, he knelt on one knee.


    "Your Highness, Toltec greets you! May your conquest be smooth, and may you have enduring martial fortune!" Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote laughed heartily, pulling Toltec up from the ground, and asked with a smile.


    "My Black Wolf, how is the state of the forces? Has the journey been smooth?"


    "Your Highness, we had favorable winds and rain all the way, refreshingly so! We are ready to fight at any moment and bring you the hearts of our enemies!"


    Toltec spoke with confidence, and then confidently glanced at Kuluka.


    Xiulote observed everything, patting his beloved commander¡¯s shoulder and giving a quiet command.


    "Well done! Toltec, bring your books and come to my tent tonight."


    Toltec was momentarily petrified, speechless. Kuluka quickly glanced at him, a slight smile on his face.


    Xiulote turned his gaze back to the riverbank; the Militia had all disembarked, followed by ships loaded with food. With all sides gathered, he now had a Mexica army of thirty thousand at his command! Twenty thousand were Samurais from various places, plus ten thousand elite Militia. In the end, there was also an Otomi Legion whose combat effectiveness was halved.

 Chapter 336 - 173: Luring the Enemy Again_2

    Almost forty thousand people gathered at this location, consuming tens of thousands of catties of food daily, piled up like mountains. Even if a fleet brought in a batch of new food, it could only sustain them for two to three months. It was increasingly difficult to maintain the supply line, and he could no longer afford to wait. These legions were also the largest forces he could muster. The Holy City had emptied its coffers, investing everything here.


    The northern general had promised reinforcements, but they had yet to arrive. According to the Envoy¡¯s recent report, Osellor had crushed the Chichimeca Canine Descendants on the northern frontier, annihilating more than ten southern migrating tribes. He had constructed pyramids one after another along the northern border, deterring all passing tribes and transporting a large number of captives to the Capital City. He had also recruited many surrendered weaker tribes, promising the Envoy to send support as much as possible.


    "Now everything is ready, just waiting for the battle to commence!" sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze crossed the riverbank, looking at the wide Lerma River, then toward the distant south.


    In the following days, the returning Mexica Naval Forces quickly engaged in combat, fighting continuous battles with the Tarasco Naval Forces at the rivermouth fortress.


    The Tarasco Naval Forces, in small units, repeatedly launched attacks, harassing the Mexica¡¯s food transport ships. The Alliance¡¯s Naval Forces also dispersed in small squads, patrolling and escorting. On the long Lerma River, one could often see a dozen small boats, flying different flags, entangled with each other, fighting exhausting battles on the water. Spears stabbed, War Clubs swung, arrows shot powerfully, Daggers pierced. Every day, both sides suffered dozens of casualties, dots of red blossoming across the river.


    Facing the enemy¡¯s harassment, Xiulote was somewhat troubled. He was reluctant to let his elite Samurai be consumed in these skirmishes, so he had elite Militia of Longbow and Spear board the ships, leading the enemy forces in attrition under the Samurai¡¯s leadership, also allowing the Longbow Militia to hone their shooting skills on the water.


    The Hunter tribes showcased their precise close-range archery on the water. Leveraging the advantage of bows and arrows, the Alliance¡¯s engagements gradually began winning more than losing. The Tarasco people learned from the combat, also gradually becoming familiar with the Mexica¡¯s archery tactics, and began equipping a large number of rattan wood shields in the Naval Forces.


    As the skies cleared gradually, new gunpowder weapons were released from the stores, distributed to Longbow Warriors and Militia. In a secret mountain camp, they familiarized themselves with the shooting of gunpowder arrows, waiting for the great battle to arrive.


    On clear days, Xiulote gathered the Naval Forces multiple times, challenging the southern rivermouth fortress to combat. But the enemy¡¯s fleet, like scattered packs of wolves, continued to harass the rear and did not engage in direct battle.


    Facing this situation, Xiulote unfolded the map and pointed several times to the west. Three thousand Ottopan Warriors were then transported by a naval force to the downstream west. Jiowar contacted the Otomi Tribe along both banks of the great river, forming over a dozen small squads that plundered all the way west from Saka, gradually nearing the edges of the Chapala Lake Region.


    This fleet and Ottopan Warriors were merely pawns to lure the enemy. The real main strength of the fleet, under the guidance of the Otomi Tribe on the North Coast, came to a downstream bend less than a hundred miles northwest of the rivermouth fortress, at Lake Yuriria.


    Xiulote personally led the fleet to survey the area. Here, downstream of the rivermouth fortress, it took only a day or two to arrive with the current, and three to four days to return upstream. The north bank of the river and lake, located between Guamare and Ottopan, was a rare flat woodland, with several Otomi villages where troops could be stationed and rested. The southern bank was the Saka being plundered. The area had a broad river surface and smooth water flow, providing ample space for movement, perfect for a major battle.


    Looking at the reed-thick north bank of the river and lake, the Young Commander finally nodded in satisfaction. The main fleet silently moved, transporting large numbers of troops and supplies here several times. The Samurai then disembarked, settling in the Otomi villages, blocking the surrounding passages, and sternly forbidding pedestrians to pass. The main strength of the fleet then lay quietly in ambush here.


    The Otomi village on the North Coast was in silence, while the Tarasco Territory on the south bank was ablaze with war. Guided by the local Otomi people, the Ottopan Warriors precisely attacked the nobles¡¯ manors across the region. The local nobility resisted with all their might, but the regional Samurai had been conscripted by the Kingdom, and many of the Militia had also been mobilized. The nobility had to hurriedly gather peasants, only to be swiftly scattered by the attacking Otomi Warriors.


    In just a few days, the western sky was marked with trails of black smoke¡ªburning villages, scorched fields, and nobles¡¯ manors reduced to ashes. Outside the manors, the Otomi people hung the ruthlessly executed Tarasco nobility as if in protest.


    The defeated local nobility fled southward, carrying the news of the Otomi invasion to the kingdom¡¯s heartland. Messengers rapidly relayed the news, and a continuous stream of alarms reached the ears of the Northern Marshal and the Naval Commander, Ospey.


    "Crocodile" nobility¡¯s eyes bulged, quite shocked.


    "The Otomi people have joined the war, and in alliance with the Mexica fleet, relying on the Otomi Tribes along both banks, they plundered the residences of various nobility!"


    Hearing this news, Ospey hesitated, sensing a scent of conspiracy.


    According to the Scout¡¯s report, the North Coast had noticeably received new Mexica reinforcements, numbering around ten thousand. Considering this, the experienced commander hesitated for a long time, still opting to keep a defensive stance.


    However, upon hearing the alarm, the five thousand Chapala Warriors in the rivermouth fortress clamored to go to battle. Worrying about the Otomi people raiding their homeland further downstream and underestimating the Otomi¡¯s combat strength, they wanted to go west to aid the situation.

 Chapter 337 - 173: Luring the Enemy Again_3

    Facing the demands made by the Chapala Legion, Ospe firmly shook his head in refusal.


    "Respected ¡¯Feathers¡¯ Pengguari, I cannot agree to your request for troops."


    The Commander of Chapala, Pengguari, was nearly forty. He had a dignified appearance with gracious manners and wore a splendid feathered garment. His name, meaning "Feathers," clearly indicated his highly noble birth. Hearing the words of the northern Marshal, he too shook his head.


    "Respected ¡¯Crocodile¡¯ Marshal, the Chapala Legion has traveled hundreds of miles to assist, and our loyalty to the Kingdom is as clear as day and night. We came here to fight bravely, not to sit idle in a fortress! Now, the nobility from the western Saka region are constantly coming forth with complaints. They and the Legion¡¯s commanders are related, and the samurai are worried about the safety of their homes in the Lake Region. They are infuriated by the enemies¡¯ massacre of the Nobility and can no longer wait!"


    Ospe remained silent, feeling the heavy pressure, as defense was never his style. After contemplating for a moment, the rational part prevailed, and the "Crocodile" Commander still shook his head.


    "Pengguari, the enemy¡¯s intelligence isn¡¯t clear, and the King has ordered us to hold our position. I am the northern Marshal and bear the responsibility of overseeing the entire situation; now is not the time for battle."


    Upon hearing this, Pengguari slightly bowed his head, speaking coldly. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ospe, if the enemy¡¯s intelligence isn¡¯t clear, we should immediately seek clarification. You are the northern Marshal, but our Chapala Legion is independent, representing the autonomous Lake Region. You bear the overall responsibility, while we have local responsibilities. The Legion came to support the Kingdom and protect our homeland. If even the weaker Otomi can roam the south with impunity, then defending the Kingdom is merely empty talk!"


    At this point, Pengguari paused for a moment, then seriously added.


    "If you persist in refusing to send troops, our 5,000 Chapala samurai will march out on our own to provide support! I will leave 10,000 Militia at the Rivermouth fortress. Akanbaro State still has 6,000 samurai and 20,000 Militia, enough to keep the defense."


    Upon hearing Pengguari¡¯s words, Ospe was greatly troubled.


    These regional Great Nobility possessed their own private troops, had prestigious ranks, and were each incredibly headstrong, valuing their home properties above all else. The last time the Great Nobility of Akanbaro marched out independently, dispersing Mexica raiding parties, they ended up ambushed by enemy forces, losing nearly a thousand samurai and over three thousand Militia. This attack by the Otomi was clearly a repetition of the same strategy.


    As the Legion Commander of Chapala, Pengguari had 5,000 samurai and nearly 10,000 Militia under his command, a force not much different from that of the northern legions. In terms of status, the "Feathers" was a long-exalted member of the Nobility, which he could not strictly suppress with rank. Now, with the northern border still awaiting the next batch of Chapala reinforcements, he was even less able to restrain them.


    As the northern Marshal, he couldn¡¯t enforce strict obedience in the troops. If he allowed the Chapala Legion to march by land, their slow progress would fail to intercept the enemy force transported by the Naval Forces. The most likely outcome would be an ambush by the main force of Mexica samurai, resulting in heavy losses.


    At this very moment, the Otomi forces raiding downstream were already significantly affecting the fortress¡¯s morale, as well as undoubtedly impacting the arrival of the next batch of reinforcements. He had no choice but to alter the original defense plan and take action to eliminate this enemy force first.


    After pondering for a long time, Ospe finally stared into Pengguari¡¯s eyes and said sternly.


    "Feathers of Chapala, if you march out alone and encounter the main force of the Mexica, your destruction is certain! The fierce Mexica samurai are drastically different from the Otomi. Wait a few days, let me investigate the military situation on the North Coast, and then we can discuss the matter of dispatching troops together!"

 Chapter 338 - 174 Battle of Lake Yuriria Part 1

    Time rushed by, and before long it was the end of September. The weather became ever clearer, and in the fields, the corn had produced fully grown ears, the final harvest was about to arrive.


    Standing on the walls of the Rivermouth fortress, Ospe looked out at the flowing Lerma River, but could not see any trace of the Mexica naval fleet.


    He furrowed his brow and sank into deep thought. According to the latest reconnaissance by the scouts, the enemy camp on the North Coast was brimming with warriors donned in armor, Pike Warriors, and many toiling Militia. On the wooden fort at its center, the flag of the Mexica Holy City¡¯s lineage fluttered high. The number of the enemy warriors amounted to tens of thousands, seemingly no different from before.


    "But the main force of the enemy¡¯s naval forces is nowhere to be found."


    The "Crocodile" nobility tilted his head up to the brilliant sky and murmured to himself.


    After hesitating for a long time, "Turkey" Kukuna, standing by his side, still spoke up to offer advice.


    "Respected Commander Ospe, the Mexica Commander-in-Chief on the other side is not to be underestimated. The main force of the enemy¡¯s naval forces might not have returned to the east but is probably lying in ambush somewhere downstream, ready to ambush either the supporting land or naval forces at any moment!"


    Ospe¡¯s eyes rounded in surprise, and he said loudly.


    "Turkey, I have fought old battles, do I need you to teach me this? The Otomi on the North Coast know the terrain well; they can hide the Mexica warriors and naval forces anywhere. The Otomi Warriors harrying our forces downstream are merely bait. The fisherman is right behind, waiting for us to take the bait!"


    Facing the marshal¡¯s formidable presence from the North, Kukuna¡¯s expression tensed. He nodded repeatedly and continued to advise in a quiet voice.


    "Commander, why must we fight desperately against the Mexica? They dare not advance deeply from the Sakapu army and expose their lengthy supply lines. We should just stay in the fortress and wait for the enemy to come attack!"


    At those words, Ospe¡¯s face showed anger, a roar escaping him¡ªthough this rage was not directed at Kukuna.


    "The feathered warriors of Chapala clamor for battle every day, and I can barely contain them! More and more executed nobility, wave upon wave of regional leaders fleeing to us, all requesting that I dispatch troops to expel the ravaging Otomi! Even the officers under my command are calling for battle! If I don¡¯t fight now, by the time this war is over, I will have completely lost the support of the regional nobility. By then, even the King may not be able to protect me, nor might he wish to!"


    Hearing these ominous words laced with profound meaning, Kukuna paused with a stunned look. He pondered for a moment, then spoke with trepidation.


    "Commander, the enemy¡¯s Longbows are fearsome! Faced with their archery advantage, we cannot be assured of victory in a naval battle!"


    Upon saying this, Ospe¡¯s anger gradually subsided. Still looking up, he laughed loudly with self-satisfaction.


    "I was personally shot by an enemy Greatbow warrior, how could I not be prepared?"


    The "Crocodile" commander turned, looking towards a burly warrior not far behind. This was the bloodied hero who captured the Mexica Longbow during the last pursuit.


    "Qingyu Kulucha, I entrusted you with the renovation of all the large boats; are they all completed now?"


    Kulucha¡¯s face was stern, his demeanor fierce. He now respectfully bowed his head and answered.


    "Respected Commander, thousands of Militia have worked day and night, and all four hundred old-style large boats have been remodeled and are ready for battle at any time!"


    At this news, Ospe nodded with satisfaction. He looked at Kukuna and issued an order in a clear voice.


    "Kukuna, stay with the Militia and guard the fortress well! Don¡¯t worry about the enemy¡¯s Longbows; I have deliberately kept the large boats from battle to give the Mexica a surprise!"


    Afterwards, the "Crocodile" noble looked up at the clear sky again and laughed aloud confidently.


    "Since the fisherman wants to fish, let them hook a crocodile and see who ends up eating whom!"


    The next day, the water gates of the Rivermouth Fortress opened wide, and the Tarasco Naval Forces finally launched a major offensive. After a sweeping recruitment in the Chapala Lake Region, Ospe now had a total of four hundred large boats and over a thousand small boats at his command! He brought together all the northern warships and led eight thousand warriors, including the Chapala Legion, along with more than ten thousand Militia and over six thousand sailors. The whole army surged forth, flowing westward downstream.


    The marshal of the North was full of bold enthusiasm. He held the upper hand both in upstream position and in ship and troop strength. Now he was about to cut off the Mexica naval forces¡¯ path home, launching a major battle intended to annihilate the predicted enemy naval forces¡¯ main strength!


    A light boat raced with the most urgent news. Soon, within the Mexica fleet at Lake Yuriria, Xiulote sprang to his feet. He looked towards the fiery red sunset, as well as to the upstream southeast of the great river, where the enemy¡¯s naval forces were only a day¡¯s distance away. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Young Commander felt a surge of surprise; he did not anticipate that the opponent¡¯s commander would be so decisive. When he moved, it was with the entire army pressing forward, as swift as a Thunderbolt! He rapidly convened the warriors stationed on shore and called back the raiding squadrons on the South Coast overnight, consolidating all his strength, ready for battle.


    A day later, the Mexica naval forces had fully convened on Lake Yuriria. Xiulote commanded three hundred large boats and nearly a thousand smaller ones, prepared for battle. The mighty fleet, carrying eight thousand elite warriors, three thousand Longbow Militia, five thousand ordinary sailors, and over three hundred hastily summoned Otomi Warriors, stood solemnly waiting on the calm lake surface.


    As the autumn sun rose halfway into the sky, pouring golden sunlight down, the boundless Tarasco fleet appeared from the southeast upstream. By an unspoken agreement between the two commanders, the two mightiest fleets in Central America finally encountered each other at the end of September, on Lake Yuriria¡¯s waters. The decisive battle that would determine the fate of the world had arrived!


    The fleets of both sides gradually drew closer, with the commanders¡¯ flags in distant sight of each other. To the southeast flew the crocodile banner, symbolizing the primal crocodile Xipactli, devourer of the earth. To the northwest danced the Black Wolf banner, representing Xiulotel, the Mexica God of Death, guardian of the illuminating sky. Crocodile versus Black Wolf, the colossal fleets obscured the whole of Lake Yuriria, War Clubs and Copper Spears gleamed coldly; this would be a battle of mythic proportions!

 Chapter 339 - 174 Battle of Lake Yuriria Part 2

    Xiulote stood resolutely on the flagship¡¯s divine altar, his expression solemn and serious. He was dressed in full regalia, his head adorned with a dazzling feather crown, and behind him, a large flag was planted on the high platform. At this moment, the Young Commander swallowed imperceptibly as he gazed at the even larger fleet opposite him.


    "Bertade, tell me, is this battle a bit too risky for me?"


    Xiulote slightly tilted his head, looking towards the Head Warrior beside him, with a hint of nervousness.


    Bertade¡¯s expression remained calm. He softly countered,


    "Your Highness, this battle has been planned by you for a long time. After preparing so much, don¡¯t you have confidence in it?"


    Upon hearing this, the Young Commander raised his head, looked up at the bright sky, and softly exclaimed,


    "What a beautiful clear day!"


    Then, Xiulote surveyed his fleet again¡ªhundreds of large boats centered around the flagship, almost a thousand smaller boats interweaving through the flanks. The Samurai gripped their longbows and war clubs with solemn expressions, a reassuring force. Annatri stood proudly on a splendid large boat, long spear in hand, with the Deputy Marshal¡¯s flag waving behind her. Situated at the forefront of the fleet, she commanded the movement of the small boats with orderly precision¡ªa Naval Commander to be trusted!


    "The timing is advantageous, the forces nearly equal, and the army¡¯s morale is high,"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then looked again at Bertade, his expression now steady. He finally nodded slowly, a confident smile on his face.


    "In that case, let us then battle!"


    On the calm surface of the lake, the opposing fleets gradually began to form their battle formations. In this era¡¯s naval warfare, the large canoe was the core of the battle formation, akin to a fierce crocodile. Each large boat could carry up to forty people, having a clear advantage over the small craft. The small boats, meanwhile, swirled around the large boats like fish, agile and carrying eight people each.


    The Mexica fleet¡¯s three hundred large boats were loosely arranged, the formation linearly stretched with not more than a few layers in thickness. The fleet was vast, divided into two clear formations. The commander of the front formation was the Naval Commander, with close-combat warriors outnumbering the longbowmen on the central large boats. The small boats on the flanks were filled with harassing longbow militia and sailors. The rear formation fluttered with the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s flag, a line of large boats spread out, densely packed with longbow warriors.


    The Tarasco fleet consisted of four hundred large boats, the formation tight and well-trained. These boats stayed very close to each other, facilitating massed charging to hold localized battlefield advantage. The overall formation was not wide but very deep, like an arrow poised to be shot, a common naval battle formation for Naval Forces.


    Sko stood proudly on the flagship in the center. He looked at the opposing formation and first laughed heartily in front of his officers.


    "The Mexica do not understand naval warfare! With the gods¡¯ blessing, our forces are bound to win!"


    Then, he conjectured within his heart, his face showing a smile. The enemy¡¯s naval forces were so arrayed probably to leverage the power of archery, but he was well prepared.


    The outset of the naval battle was small boats probing. Hundreds of small boats sped forward, colliding and tumbling in front of both fleets¡¯ large boats.


    In the center of the battleground, hundreds of small boats had no escape and crashed into each other with a "bang". Militia and sailors quickly picked up their weapons, shouting loudly and fighting vigorously. Spears clashed with short daggers, occasionally bursts of blood flowering, staining the clear lake water. Sharp weapons "plunged" into flesh, screams and cries of pain were incessant, as warriors from both sides entangled and died together.


    On the flanking sides of the battleground, the Mexica¡¯s small boats maneuvered flexibly, and the tribal hunters fully utilized the advantage of close-range archery. "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" With twenty steps apart, several tribal hunters on the small boats released their arrows at once. The arrow light flashed like electricity, instantly piercing through gaps in the enemies¡¯ shields. Two Tarasco paddlers fell immediately, splashing a boatful of blood, and the boat suddenly lost speed. The militia on board had no choice but to put down their copper spears and clumsily row nearer, only to be mercilessly shot down again.


    After observing for a moment from the flagship, Sko slightly frowned.


    The Tarascos¡¯ small boats had shields installed on both sides, but they could not fully cover them. The enemy¡¯s archery was extremely precise, resulting in a noticeably greater loss on their part. In the small boat combat, the Naval Forces gradually fell at a disadvantage.


    Realizing that the small boats couldn¡¯t achieve victory, the "Crocodile" Nobility didn¡¯t hesitate. He waved his command flag, ordering the large boats to close in. The war drums sounded, and Tarasco¡¯s large boats finally took action, revealing their potency. All large boats were refitted, with a large number of wooden shields nailed on both sides and wooden sheds constructed on top to shield against powerful longbows.


    Dozens of Tarasco large boats rushed forward first, with hundreds of arrows "bang bang" nailed to the shields and wooden canopies, but unable to cause any damage. The Mexica small boats had to quickly retreat and scatter.


    In the distant rear of the Mexica, Xiulote stood on the high platform of the large boat, seeing the small boats in the front unable to disperse, and the enemy¡¯s large boats coming on strongly. He hesitated for a moment and finally saw clearly the rebuilt form of the enemy¡¯s large boats. The Young Commander was slightly stunned, then his face lit up with joy and he laughed heartily.


    "What a surprise! In this battle, the enemy commander should take the credit!"


    The cluster of Tarasco large boats gradually approached, closing in on the Mexica fleet to about a hundred steps. As an unusually loud bugle sounded, the enemy¡¯s fleet of large boats suddenly exerted force, the paddlers straining to row and starting to charge!


    Annatri quickly waved the spear flag, the sound of retreat trumpeted, and the quick Mexica small boats agilely fled in reverse, while the loosely organized large boats also began to turn backward.


    Ospei was secretly puzzled, as the morale of the Mexica naval forces was still strong and they wouldn¡¯t collapse at the slightest touch. He waved the command flag, preparing to mobilize fast small boats to attack and restrain the enemy.


    A faint glimmer of firelight suddenly flickered across the water. Mexica¡¯s large boats had already crossed their hulls, a row of archers drew their bowstrings and then notched arrows to shoot strongly, the low "humming" sound rising. Then, thousands of fire arrows with just-lit paper casings, like burning meteors, swiftly attacked! The fire arrows traveled over a distance of more than fifty steps, nailed on the wooden hulls, wooden shields, and wooden canopies. The continuous "du-du" sound was sharp and piercing, like the proclamation of the God of Death!


    Then, Ospei knew what truly dazzling meteors were, what brilliant and magnificent fireworks were! Countless flames burst into fire, the bright light stinging the eyes. The scorching smoke rapidly rose, bringing the scent of burning sulfur, resembling the mouth of a demon spewing smoke from a western volcano!


    In just a moment, the "Crocodile" commander¡¯s vision was already filled with an unforgettable blaze. The canopies were burning, shields were burning, large boats were burning, Samurai clad in Leather Armor were burning, Militia dressed in cloth were burning... everything was on fire, this was a world of burning death! Samurai and Militia alike became human torches, issuing sky-wide mournful screams, desperately jumping into the lake. And even on the splash-specked lake surface, there were burning fire arrows scattered.


    The sound of slicing air "whizz" rose, Mexica¡¯s fire arrows came soaring again. But in just a few moments, even more fierce flames exploded across the sky, igniting dozens of Tarasco large boats once again!


    Facing this sudden explosive attack, the Tarasco Naval Forces instantly fell into shock and fear. The surging flames burned fiercely, the acrid smoke engulfed the boats, and the exploding fire arrows could even float on the water surface! Samurai, Militia, and Sailors lost their voices momentarily, then began to scream in uncontrollable terror.


    "The enemy has summoned the gods, the foreign Fire God has descended!"


    The Samurai were frantic on the boats, looking toward the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s flagship, praying for their own gods to appear.


    "These are demons of the western volcanoes, they will devour everything!"


    The Militia trembled, dropped their weapons, and crawled on the deck, hiding from the choking smoke.


    "These are sprites of fire, able to burn on water!"


    The Sailors turned fearfully, ready to desperately flee, but they collided with the large boat in the rear.


    Only the experienced officers were slightly composed. They identified the scent of the smoke, recalling the flames from the Priest¡¯s prayers. Then, they thought of the title of the opposite commander, and finally came to a realization, shouting hoarsely.


    "It¡¯s the God of Death! He uses Netherfire!" S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At that moment, the myth became vivid in everyone¡¯s minds, dominating all their spirits. This was an era of ignorance, with many myths preserved. Nearby, Jiowar, aboard the same ship, was equally stunned. He looked at the flames that didn¡¯t belong to this era, murmuring incredulously.


    "Primordial God, could it be that youngster... no, could it be that my elder brother truly possesses divine power?!"


    The raging fire burned on the lake, the surging heat waves transformed into strong winds, fluttering the Mexica commander¡¯s flag. Under the dazzling sunlight, the Black Wolf on the flag roared skyward, while the commander beneath the flag glittered brilliantly. Xiulote¡¯s expression was solemn, like the embodiment of a god, remaining in everyone¡¯s heart!

 Chapter 340 - 175 Battle of Lake Yuriria Part 2

    The nearby heatwave, carrying thick smoke, attacked swiftly, staining the flag of the Tarasco Marshal a quick gray, like the swiftly deteriorating battle situation. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Underneath the flag, the Naval Commander, Sko, was equally shocked and pale. He widened his eyes, staring blankly ahead at the great fire, momentarily paralyzed by fear. Moments later, the seasoned commander¡¯s self-control enabled him to rapidly regain his composure.


    Then, the "Crocodile" nobility surveyed the battle situation, feeling a chill in his heart.


    The main force of the Tarasco fleets were stuck in chaotic stagnation. The Mexica relentlessly fired flashing fire arrows, continuously fueling roaring flames, also igniting the critical warships constantly! During his shocked stupor, dozens of warships lost their fighting capabilities. The surrounding samurais were all in disarray, the military officers at all levels waiting for the flagship¡¯s response, and time was of the essence!


    Watching the scene before him, Sko¡¯s expression rapidly changed. Facing the unknown fear, he hesitated for a few breaths, once thinking of fleeing eastward. But after those few breaths, he thought of the consequences of retreating from battle and the difficulty of escaping against the current... Here and now, it was do or die!


    After a moment of weighing his options, the "Crocodile" nobility suppressed his bone-deep fear, and his brave nature finally took over. Suddenly feeling vicious, he bit hard into his lip, roaring loudly amidst the sting and the taste of blood.


    "I am the descendant of the gods, with the bloodline of the primeval crocodile, even divine power cannot harm me!"


    The supreme commander¡¯s roar echoed over the lake, lifting the spirits of the frightened samurais around him. Then, he looked towards the brave Kulucha beside him.


    "Green Fish, beat the drums for me! Command the entire army to advance, continue the charge!"


    Kulucha fiercely nodded, banging the resounding war drums. The "Crocodile" nobility himself shook the war flag, spinning it toward the front.


    "Charge! Charge at them! Engage them in close combat! They won¡¯t be able to fire their arrows again!"


    The awe-inspiring sound of the war drums began, and the giant crocodile¡¯s flag fluttered. Sko looked around again, around his flagship, the inner hundred or so warships gradually regained command, while the outer hundred or so warships were still trapped in disorder. Ahead of him, nearly a hundred warships burned fiercely, becoming bright massive torches. Behind him, the noble Chapala Feather still looked panic-stricken, standing blankly at the prow.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh," the fire arrows came again, lighting up more than ten additional outer warships. The "Crocodile" nobility had no time to wait, he sharply ordered the closest trusted aide.


    "Quick! You board the small boat, quickly find Chapala Feather, tell him to gather the chaotic fleet and rapidly follow my assault. Inform him, the naval forces¡¯ main strength is still here, we still have a chance for victory!"


    Afterwards, Sko, with blood on his corner of the lip, roared fiercely like a ferocious crocodile.


    "Brave samurais, follow me in the charge!"


    Leading with the commander¡¯s flag, the cry was mournful, and the war drums thundered. The flag of Tarasco slowly started moving, bypassing the burning vanguard, then suddenly accelerated. The marshal¡¯s warship, unstoppable, personally leading over a hundred warships, resolutely charged towards the nearby enemy fleet.


    Watching the rapidly recovering enemy flagship, watching the fierce charging of over a hundred warships, Xiulote looked on appreciatively, loudly praising.


    "Truly a brave crocodile!"


    Thereupon, on the divine platform, the Young Commander again waved the command flag, and the Longbow Warriors in the rear immediately adjusted their direction, and a sky full of fire arrows shot towards the attacking fleet. Moments later, the fire arrows whistling into the dispersed enemy fleet, again lighting more than ten charging warships on fire.


    A strong breeze passed, dispersing the rising smoke, clearing the view. The Tarasco flagship paused slightly, then adjusted its direction, heading straight at the Mexica Commander-in-Chief¡¯s flag.


    Watching the abruptly approaching enemy fleet, Xiulote remained unmoved. He continued to command the rear, steadily shooting. The Young Commander¡¯s figure stood resolute under the flag, becoming the focal point of the entire battlefield.


    Watching the enemy naval flagship, Bertade¡¯s eyes narrowed. He stepped forward, raising his longbow. A trusted aide beside him lit the paper casing of the fire arrow, quickly handing it over. The Head Warrior turned sideways, placing the arrow on the bow, pulling back forcefully to its limit, then swiftly launching it. The weighty fire arrow flickered as it flew across sixty to seventy steps, embedding itself accurately in the enemy ship¡¯s wooden shelter, then burst into flames.


    Sko¡¯s flagship suddenly caught fire, with the family samurais aboard showing panic, about to step forward to extinguish it. The "Crocodile" nobility, face flushed, strode forward, pushing the burning wooden shelter into the lake. Then, holding a shield high, he bellowed.


    "Get rowing! Don¡¯t stop! Follow me in the charge!"


    After issuing the command, Sko widened his eyes, staring hard at the enemy flagship just ahead, the hope for a turnaround! Then, his eyes glittering, he stared intently at the grand figure below the commander¡¯s flag, roaring deeply.


    "Trusted aide, shield cover! Green Fish, bring me my longbow, and get one for yourself too!"


    Under the Black Wolf¡¯s flag, Bertade was about to launch another fire arrow when his expression suddenly changed. Across fifty to sixty steps, the enemy flagship¡¯s shields were suddenly lowered, revealing a rugged, strong middle-aged samurai. In his hands, he held a Mexica longbow, already steadied and aimed, the shining copper arrow gleaming coldly. Behind him, another fierce samurai stood sideways, also holding a bow.


    Seeing this, the Head Warrior didn¡¯t hesitate to drop his longbow, then flung himself to the side.


    Xiulote, smiling, surveyed the greatly favourable situation on the battlefield, contemplating envelopment maneuvers. Then, a pair of solid arms enveloped him from behind, the Young Commander suddenly felt a force on his back, in an instant before he could react, forced him down.

 Chapter 341 - 175: Battle of Lake Yuriria Part 2

    ```


    "Whoosh!" A shrill arrow whistled past Xiulote¡¯s head, awakening his long-buried memories. Another "whoosh" followed, as an arrow flew towards him, then the "rip" as it tore through the Leather Armor, and the "thud" as it buried itself in flesh. Hurried footsteps mounted the commander¡¯s platform, several trusted aides quickly shielding the front, and then the sound of arrows sinking into shields with two "thwacks."


    Watching the enemy¡¯s shield wall that completely blocked his view, Osprey regretfully lowered his Longbow. He and Kulucha shot one after another. These four unexpected sneak-attack arrows only managed to wound the tall Samurai who threw himself in the line of fire to protect his master.


    Then, he remembered the tall Samurai¡¯s appearance and physique, feeling an inexplicable familiarity. Wasn¡¯t that the very commander he had been chasing for half a day, determined to recruit as a fierce archer under his command? Next, his thoughts went to the enemy commander: that vaguely familiar average stature, the delicate young face beneath the Feather Crown... Was the Mexica Marshal himself scouting in person?!


    A flash of realization struck him, and the "Crocodile" nobility twitched with surprise. He clasped his arm in frustration, stamped his foot with force, filled with regret.


    "It¡¯s you! It was actually you! It was you that day!!!"


    Protected by his trusted aides, Xiulote struggled to get up from the ground. Smelling blood in the air, he anxiously checked Bertade¡¯s breathing. The Head Warrior lay on his side in severe pain, unable to move. His eyes widened as he saw the young commander¡¯s look of concern and managed a painful smile.


    "Your Highness, continue commanding the rear! I am not going to die!"


    Xiulote acted as if he hadn¡¯t heard. He carefully searched the Head Warrior¡¯s body and finally found the arrow wound on his back, just two inches from his neck. The Young Commander finally breathed a sigh of relief, nodded to his loyal Head Warrior, then turned to his trusted aides.


    "Take the esteemed Eagle Warrior to the stern, treat him well! Be careful, gently!"


    Xiulote then stood up again, peered through the gaps in the shield, and observed the nearby battle. Nearly a hundred enemy ships charged fiercely and were already within forty paces of the flagship, clashing with the frontline Mexica large ships. Many Tarasco big boats approached on fire, burning as they collided.


    The "bang bang" of huge impacts continued as dozens of boats crashed into one mass. The Tarasco Samurai didn¡¯t wait to stop, leaping onto the enemy ship amidst flames. They swung their Copper Spears and Wooden Shields at the Mexica Samurai wielding War Clubs and vine shields, and a bloody melee ensued.


    The lighting of Fire Arrows took time. Facing the enemy¡¯s resolute assault, they couldn¡¯t manage more than three volleys before they lost the chance to shoot again. The Young Commander looked out to see more and more boats colliding on the lake¡¯s surface, both sides¡¯ warriors becoming completely entangled in battle!


    A loud "boom" resounded as two large ships collided violently, tilting at steep angles. Several warriors from both sides couldn¡¯t keep their balance and "plopped" into the water. The captains of both ships then roared loudly in different languages, rushing to engage in personal combat.


    A Mexica Samurai just discarded his Longbow and grabbed a War Club when a Long Spear stabbed at him. With no time to pick up a shield, he dodged to the side and raised his club to block, quickly losing his balance. At that moment, another Long Spear came slashing in at an angle. Hearing the sound, the Mexica Samurai glanced out of the corner of his eye but couldn¡¯t move in time. His side chilled sharply, and he immediately lost strength.


    The Tarasco Samurai, successful with his strike, showed excitement. He vigorously stirred the Copper Spear, rupturing the soft innards, then forcefully yanked it out, bringing forth a spray of hot blood. Looking at the fallen enemy, he laughed triumphantly, only to be stealthily struck from behind by a War Club. In the blink of an eye, with no time to react, the club mercilessly chopped at his neck, the sharp Obsidian edged slicing through skin and severing the left carotid artery. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Sshhh," blood sprayed wildly, splattering more than a meter away, covering the face and head of the veteran Samurai Necali standing behind. Necali immediately squatted down, raised his shield in defense with his left hand, and quickly wiped his face with his sleeve. Then, he stood up, alert, spitting out the warm liquid that had splashed into his mouth.


    "Pah, damned followers of the false gods, their blood is even choking!"


    Necali looked around angrily, his pupils constricting sharply. The Tarasco Samurai had already fallen, but three coordinated Militia Long Spears were already stabbing towards him. With little room to dodge on the narrow boat, he barely managed to fend them off several times with his shield before being forced back to the stern of the ship. Then, furious, he threw his War Club and "bang," struck down a young Militia, before reluctantly jumping into the lake.


    The young Militia Wei Zi had bloodshot eyes, ready to continue pressing forward, intent on spearing the struggling Mexica warrior swimming away in the lake. But behind him, a pair of calloused hands suddenly yanked him backwards.


    "Wei Zi, you blockhead! What time do you think it is, and you¡¯re still mindlessly fighting!"


    The aged Militia Chiwaco scolded him, his wrinkled face quivering. Then, the old Militia crouched down quickly to check on the young Militia who had been knocked down.


    The whistling War Club struck the young Militia who had neither a shield nor Cotton Armor and didn¡¯t know to block with the less vital parts of his body. The club hit him square in the chest, its edged pieces cutting through his chest and neck. Unstoppable blood flowed freely, soon covering the old Militia¡¯s hands.


    Chiwaco shuddered, hurriedly pulled out his bag of Herbs, and took a deep breath. He then stood up, barely regaining his composure, and looked around the troubled lake.


    Fire Arrows still rained terrifyingly from the sky, turning into several-meter-long Fire Demons on the water¡¯s surface, successively igniting the rear ships. Beyond the burning rear, the Kingdom¡¯s Naval Forces were still in chaos. Small boats ran around headlessly, haphazardly fighting with the Mexica small boats. Some large boats were spinning in place, some crashed into each other, and a portion seemed to be turning around?


    ```

 Chapter 342 - 175 Battle of Lake Yuriria Part 3

    The old Militia gazed ahead once more, where the center of the fierce battle raged, with hundreds of large ships crashing into each other, Samurai lords shouting the names of the spirits as they fought in a frenzy. Then, like pumpkins harvested in autumn, the lords tumbled and fell in strings, or split open like ripe beans, painting the surface of the lake with spreading bright red. Only the flags of the two opposing Commanders-in-Chief were nearly touching, still standing tall like cornstalks. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Chiwaco shivered again and hastily took a puff from his herb pack.


    Behind him, Weizti still aimlessly stabbed at the Samurai in the water twice more. Unfortunately, his martial arts skills were inadequate, and he didn¡¯t hit the mark. It was only after watching the enemy swim away that he came back to his senses, turned to the fallen Militia, and asked urgently.


    "Chiwaco, can he be saved?"


    "Save what! He¡¯s a goner. Look out for yourself first!"


    The old Militia continued searching over the lake, his hoarse and trembling voice calling out relentlessly.


    "Woodheads, look carefully! Most of the Samurai lords leading on the boats are dead, what¡¯s the point in fighting now! The lords behind haven¡¯t caught up, the Mexica are way too many, we can¡¯t win this battle!... Quick, call the other woodheads, let¡¯s find the nearest small boat. If we wait any longer, it¡¯ll be a dead end!"


    Hearing the word "death," Weizti was startled and quickly summoned those around him. Five more Long Spears Militia came over, some sober, some cowardly, but they could still hear the summons. The other villagers¡¯ Militia, under the lead of the Samurai, were still fighting with red eyes, deaf to anything else. Two Mexica Samurai were attracted by the shouting but were blocked by several Long Spears in formation at the stern of the boat, unable to approach for the moment.


    "Right, over there! It¡¯s the closest, let¡¯s swim to that small boat!" Chiwaco suddenly brightened, pointing to a forlorn small boat floating about twenty steps away, with the bodies of Mexica Militia lying atop it.


    The young Weizti stared, and the hundreds of small boats on both sides were still locked in a deadly grapple, with screams occasionally marking another¡¯s fall into the water. Once the small boats of either side made contact on the water, the Militia would fight mercilessly until one boat¡¯s crew was entirely slain. Many unmanned boats thus drifted on the lake, strewing fresh red in their wake. After watching for a moment, Weizti finally saw the narrow, fragile boat, and the red dripping from its hull set unease within him.


    "Chiwaco, are we going to abandon the sturdy large boat for that shaky little one?!"


    The other Militia, while confronting the increasingly numerous Mexica Samurai, turned their heads to look.


    "Weizti, are you stupid? Large boats are the Mexica¡¯s target, from afar a bulls-eye, up close a battlefield, you can¡¯t escape quickly enough, of course, we should get on the small boat!"


    "Ah, Chiwaco, are we to become deserters?!" Weizti¡¯s voice trembled, fraught with alarm.


    The old Militia hissed in exasperation, no longer paying attention to the fool. He glanced around at the surrounding Militia and called out softly.


    "Woodheads, if you want to live, follow me when the time comes!"


    Afterward, Chiwaco crouched down and carefully searched the deck, finding two unlit Fire Arrows. He curiously felt the round paper casings; how could something the size of a mango turn into a Fire Demon of several meters?


    The old Militia didn¡¯t have time to ponder further, hastily tucking one Fire Arrow into his bosom. Then he stood up, mimicked the motions he had seen from a Mexica Archer using a Fire Igniter, and abruptly hurled the other Fire Arrow towards the confronting Mexica Samurai.


    "Into the water! Go!" Having thrown the Fire Arrow, the old Militia didn¡¯t pause at all, diving into the lake and then swimming desperately towards the small boat twenty-odd steps away. The Militia hesitated for a fraction, then hurriedly discarded their encumbering Long Spears and dived into the water as well. As natives of the lake, their swimming ability was unquestioned; they resembled young fish chasing the old lead fish, quickly heading away from the battlefield.


    Seeing the thrown Fire Arrow, several Mexica Samurai showed terror and quickly retreated. They were well aware of the destructive power of burning Gunpowder Arrows. After a moment, though, the Fire Arrow lay still, not even sparking. The warriors exchanged glances, then looked at the rapidly swimming Tarasco Militia, too ashamed to speak.


    Weizti closely followed Chiwaco, furiously dog-paddling through the water. He looked up to see a clumsy figure still struggling and swimming ahead, and anger surged within him again. So, the young Militia dived powerfully towards the Mexica Samurai and kicked him fiercely twice.


    Hit hard, Necali cried out in pain and then "glug glug" swallowed several mouthfuls of lake water, drifting away from the center due to the kicks.


    Weizti felt around his body, too poor to even possess a Dagger, and had to let him be. Turning his head back, he saw the old Militia had already reached the edge of the small boat and probably wouldn¡¯t wait for him alone. With that thought, he turned around, casting one last glance at the furiously burning lake, and engraved the nightmarish scene deep in his mind.


    The tranquil Lake Yuriria was dyed red, countless large and small boats floating silently like coffins. Beneath them drifted numerous bodies, along with spreading blood. Fresh corpses continued to fall from the embattled large boats. In the front, where the fighting was fiercest, thousands of Samurai were battling bravely, their roars shaking heaven and earth. And at the very center, the Naval Forces¡¯ flagship was still beating war drums, the Kingdom¡¯s Commander-in-Chief still calling out fiercely in the fight!


    Confronted with the intense scene, Weizti was momentarily transfixed, letting out a deep sigh. Then he briskly turned and, without further pause, swam straight toward the hope of escape.

 Chapter 343 - 176 Battle of Lake Yuriria Part 3 (Added for leader Green Vine Cloud)

    The sky-shattering war cries echoed across the lake¡¯s surface, drowning out the howling wind. The drifting smoke from the flames rose into the sky, obscuring the brilliant sunlight. Between the sky and the lake, there was now a somber darkness.


    Xiulote once again stood tall on the high altar, greeted by the cheers of his trusted aides. Ters, holding a man-sized Great Shield, took the position of the Head Warrior, shielding him at the front. The Young Commander surveyed the noisy battlefield with his gaze, assessing the progress of the battle.


    Directly ahead, the squadron led by Ospei had charged within thirty to forty steps, clashing violently with the Mexica Naval Forces¡¯ front line. The flag of the Crocodile Marshal flew high, with dozens of desperately rowed sturdy boats carrying the elite family samurai, breaking through barriers fiercely charging towards Black Wolf¡¯s flagship once more.


    The frontline Commander, Annatri, looked back again, gazing at the stable flagship in the rear. Seeing His Highness standing once more, her heart settled slightly. Not seeing the tall and calm Head Warrior, she was filled with worry.


    Suddenly, the female warrior glared ahead, remembering the stealth attack of the enemy¡¯s flagship, her anger erupting like a volcano.


    "Shameful ratfish releasing hidden arrows!"


    Annatri pointed with her spear, leading the dozens of surrounding big boats to speed forward, violently colliding with the Tarasco flagship. As the two huge boats collided sharply, the nimble female warrior let out a loud yell and charged forward with her spear. On the shaking deck, she moved as if on flat ground, her three-meter spear cleverly avoiding shields to stab a blocking Tarasco samurai to death. Then, identifying the enemy¡¯s leader, she again raised her spear to press forward.


    Ospei half-knelt to stabilize himself on the swaying big boat. With a quick glance, he identified the leader of the opposing big boat, the spear-wielding female warrior. The "Crocodile" Nnobility did not hesitate to pull out an expensive Bronze Axe from his waist, stepped forward heavily, and hurled it with all his might.


    Annatri moved forward quickly, always watching the opposing commander. Her pupils suddenly contracted. She jumped back like a butterfly, her body swiftly tilting to the side, and then forcefully swept aside the whistling thrown axe. The Bronze Axe, spinning, "crack" struck the side of the big boat, embedding half an inch into the wood. Carried by this force, the female warrior lightly landed back on her own boat.


    Annatri¡¯s eyes widened, staring at the expensive hidden weapon throw axe, utterly furious.


    "Ratfish! Still ambushing!"


    Ospei fiercely spit out a bloody spittle. Without responding, he again drew a Bronze Axe.


    The clash between both sides¡¯ Naval Commanders was but a moment. As the two splendid big boats stabilized slightly, the samurai on board immediately rushed into battle together. To support their commander, nearly a hundred nearby big boats converged and collided, forming a connected battleground on the lake¡¯s surface, immobile. Then, nearly two thousand samurai from both sides, dressed in different war clothes, entangled in a deadly struggle using spears and clubs.


    These were the elite warriors from beside the commanders, mostly loyal and valiant, fighting agilely and fiercely. At this critical moment in the battle, their combat carried a hint of madness.


    Six or seven Tarasco samurai formed a small formation with alternating Copper Spears, successively stabbing three Mexica samurai to death. Another Mexica samurai, seeing this, his eyes turned bloodshot. He fiercely threw his War Club forward and then, holding a shield, rushed forward desperately. The War Club struck, throwing the frontline Copper Spear into disarray; then the charging shield knocked it aside. The spears behind continuously stabbed randomly, finally circling the edge of the shield and "puch" plunged into the thigh of the samurai. The samurai cried out in pain, using his free right arm to forcefully wrap around several Copper Spears, refusing to let go.


    The opposing Spear Formation was immediately halted, and the Mexica samurai behind quickly closed in. In close-quarter combat, the Tarasco Copper Spears could no longer be effective. The Obsidian Clubs swung powerfully, striking precisely at the opponents¡¯ heads and necks, with a practiced simplicity. In but a dozen breaths, the faces of the opposing Tarasco samurai were struck, their throats slashed, each one falling backwards in death. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As the warriors looked back again to check on their comrade in the middle of the spears, they saw that he had already died, eyes open and skewed, lying in a pool of blood, unmoving. His right arm was still wrapped around several Copper Spears, refusing to let go. The warriors paused in silence for a few moments, then turned again, charging into the chaotic heart of the battle.


    In the center of the melee, more elite Tarasco warriors formed a Copper Spear Formation, unleashing powerful force on the narrow big boats. A Mexica Longbow Warrior, seeing his comrades continuously being stabbed to death, his eyes red, lit the Fire Arrows in his hand and hurled them into the dense Spear Formation. A moment later, the Gunpowder quickly ignited, setting several Tarasco warriors in the center alight; the Spear Formation abruptly dispersed. The burning warriors screamed terribly, sounded nothing like human cries, and then leaped into the lake.


    After being burned multiple times, the Tarasco warriors finally grasped the mechanism of the Fire Demon. They followed suit, finding the Fire Igniter and Fire Arrows on the opposing deck, mimicking the lighting of the paper-wrapped gunpowder bag exteriors, then hurling them towards areas crowded with Mexica people. Some Copper Spear warriors hesitated slightly, turning themselves into torches. More warriors hurled them preemptively; the Gunpowder Arrows delaying in exploding, rolling about, then igniting indiscriminately between friend and foe.


    Soon, towering flames arose everywhere, gradually spreading across the tightly connected hundred boats. Then, the remaining Fire Arrows on the decks sequentially exploded, slowly igniting an immensely huge torch. Denser smoke soared even higher, entirely blackening the flags of both sides¡¯ Naval Commanders.

 Chapter 344 - 176: Battle of Lake Yuriria Part 2 (Extra for Alliance Leader Green Vine Cloud)_2

    Watching the spectacular fireworks in front of him, Xiulote stood solemnly on the high platform of the great vessel, constantly issuing instructions. The flag bearers waved their flags, and the short horn sounds conveyed the orders to disperse to both sides, while the flag signals circling forward directed the path ahead.


    Black Wolf¡¯s flagship slowly retreated, commanding the longbow trusted aides on dozens of large vessels behind him to steadily lob arrows at the distant enemy, igniting the Tarasco great vessels that were arriving in succession.


    Then, the center group of dozens of Mexica great vessels further spread out to both sides, avoiding the increasingly grand torches. The wings of over a hundred large vessels enveloped the front, dispersing the opponent¡¯s randomly charging small boats. Afterward, the slender warships accelerated all the way, circling to the rear of the enemy, and used fire arrows to ignite the Tarasco great vessels still in chaos.


    Over five hundred Mexica small boats followed closely behind the large vessels, gradually unfolding from the chaotic wings. The fleet moved as nimbly as a school of fish, gracefully weaving through. The longbow militia on the boats used their exquisite archery to shoot the samurai close range.


    Under Xiulote¡¯s command, two battlefields gradually formed on the lake surface, one in front and one behind. The battlefield in the front was surrounded by flames, and both naval forces engaged in a fierce slaughter, with the Naval Commander personally fighting on the front lines. In the rear battlefield, flames blazed brightly, the Tarasco Naval Forces unilaterally suffered the shooting, unable to recover from the chaos.


    As for the small boats fighting on the outer perimeter, they had no impact on the overall situation of the battlefield, and no one paid them any attention at this point, completely lacking command. The Militia gradually slowed down the brutal fight, Mexica small boats circled in place, while Tarasco small boats began to scatter and flee south. Among the southward fleeing, a blood-stained small boat was inconspicuous, yet it paddled swiftly, accurately escaping toward the rivermouth upstream.


    On the rear battlefield, as the calls of the trusted aides of Ospie passed from one to another, the Chapala Legion Commander Pengguari finally woke from his fearful stupor.


    He looked toward the distant battlefield, where the flag of the Crocodile Marshal was submerged in thick smoke, seemingly in dire straits. He observed the large vessels burning all around, with the Mexica Naval Forces rapidly closing in from both wings, launching Netherfire in succession. He looked again at the anxious face of his trusted aide, his own expression fluctuating, with murder in his eyes.


    The trusted aides of Ospie were visibly agitated, urgently pleading once more,


    "Respected Chapala Feather, the Marshal is engaged in a death struggle just a few dozen steps from the enemy¡¯s flagship. The rear army of the Chapala Legion still has over a hundred great vessels! Please, lead the rear army in a charge immediately, we still have a chance to achieve victory!"


    Hearing this, the Chapala Feather looked dignified, silent in thought. He looked around him, the samurai of the legion controlling their large vessels, morale low. Their expressions were panicked, waiting in unrest for the Legion Commander¡¯s orders.


    On the outer perimeter of the ships, Mexica small boats continuously attacked swiftly, firing "whooshing" long arrows, then turning to flee. These long arrows were shot at tricky angles, occasionally piercing shields, fatally shooting exposed Chapala samurai. On both front sides, Mexica large vessels of similar numbers gradually approached, firing terrifying volleys of fire arrows that ignited the outermost vessels. And in the far front, there were still hundreds of enemy large vessels, spread out in a loose formation.


    "Where is there any chance of victory? And where lies a chance for survival? The Chapala Legion cannot be completely destroyed here!"


    Pengguari thought rapidly. He too was a commander seasoned in battle, and as long as he suppressed the fear of the unknown in the legends, he could make a wise decision.


    "Escaping southwards upstream against the current will take three to four days, and we will inevitably be pursued by the Mexica Naval Forces, with the slower large vessels not knowing how many will be lost! Yet if the Marshal survives, and returns to the northern defenses, the retribution for the aftermath is unavoidable... Therefore, the chance for survival lies downstream, to the north!"


    Thinking this, Chapala¡¯s "Feather" nodded, smiling as he looked at Marshal¡¯s trusted aide.


    "Good, we charge north!"


    The Legion Commander¡¯s bird flag finally waved, rapid beats of the war drums sounded, relaying the order to accelerate north. Pengguari¡¯s flagship gradually picked up speed. The remaining fleet, now with a newfound backbone, swarmed together, surrounding and heading north with it. Over a hundred large vessels, more than three hundred small ones, laden with the Chapala Legion, raced toward the northern battlefield. This was the last force of the Tarasco Naval Forces!


    Xiulote¡¯s pupils shrank as he saw over a hundred large vessels pouncing forward.


    "The Tarasco people are really so desperate!"


    The Young Commander still had command of two hundred large vessels, and although he could fight and win, many warriors would likely be lost. He waved the battle flag again, and the large vessels on the wings folded back, while those in the center gathered behind, forming a tight formation.


    Xiulote stood resolutely, waving the flag once more.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" thousands of trusted longbow aides drew their bows and let fly arrows, and a sky full of fiery rain shot toward the incoming enemy ships, igniting over a dozen large vessels. Moments later, another round of explosive fireshower claimed an equal number of enemy vessels.


    Nearly a hundred Tarasco large vessels rushed swiftly like the wind, quickly approaching the front line. The Mexica Naval Forces speeded up their withdrawal, clustering into a group, ready to engage the enemy at any moment.


    Just then, the piercing sound of the conch horn came from the enemy fleet, and a flag with a painted bird rotated half a circle, pointing slightly off to the northwest. And on the large boat below the flag, Ospie¡¯s trusted aide clutched his chest, staring incredulously at the revered Chapala Legion Commander, before being thrown into the lake by several samurai.


    Pengguari¡¯s gaze was deep, his expression cold. He took a somber glance at the "Crocodile" flag a hundred steps away, lowered his gaze, his emotions complex. The tall flag fluttered amidst the blood and fire, the northern Marshal still battling on the field. Standing quietly for a moment, the Chapala Legion Commander continued to wave his flag, once again pointing toward the northwest rivermouth.


    sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 346 - 177: Great Victory! The Finale of the Naval Battle

    The setting sun bled into the lake, equally stained with fresh blood, creating a grand tapestry that shook the soul. The warm breeze, like fire, swept across the lake, itself ablaze, composing a passionate melody that stirred a bold spirit within.


    At this moment, the battle neared its end, its outcome already sealed! This unprecedented conflict brought together Central America¡¯s two most formidable naval forces. The result of this battle would determine the strategic initiative along the Lerma River and the fate of both sides in their westward conquests!


    In preparation for this fight, Xiulote had made his greatest effort. He amassed three hundred large vessels and nearly a thousand smaller boats, bearing twenty thousand warriors. He brought along his loyal trusted aides, the elite troops directly under the Royal Family, and the sharpshooting Militia Longbowmen. He awaited the right moment, chose the battlefield for the grand conflict, and deployed new weapons that had long been kept secret. The Mexica had always favored their land forces, so this was the largest fleet he could gather! sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For this battle, the Tarasco people had made their greatest preparations as well. As inhabitants of the Lake Region well-versed in naval warfare, they possessed an even stronger Naval Force. The "Crocodile" Nobility called in every warship from the Cuitzeo Lake Region, the Chapala Lake Region, and along the Lerma River. They gathered a whopping four hundred large vessels and over a thousand smaller boats, filled with twenty-five thousand Samurai and Militia skilled in naval combat. They held the advantage in ships and manpower, descending rapidly from upstream, mobilizing the might of their nation!


    As a Naval Commander with decades of battle experience, the Tarasco leader made no strategic errors. He concentrated his most advantageous troops, launched the swiftest assault, and even prepared defenses against the Longbows, achieving his very best. In his calculation, the advantageous Tarasco Naval Forces would secure victory in this decisive battle, which was his primary reason for engaging in the conflict.


    "It was only when the new age¡¯s weapons brought raging inferno, and the Tarasco Naval Forces fell into protracted chaos from their fear of myths, that we truly gained our chance at victory!"


    Xiulote stood on the high platform, the Black Wolf banner flying fiercely in the wind. As a Young Commander fresh on the scene, he reflected on the entire course of the war, learning from the experience of the enemy Marshal.


    "Even against the epochal Gunpowder Arrows, he made the correct response without hesitation, ordering his entire force to charge. He is a foe worthy of respect! This battle, I must admit, I won by luck. If the enemy had been acquainted with the Gunpowder Arrows beforehand, if the Chapala fleet hadn¡¯t fled, if that one arrow had hit me... But in war, there are no ¡¯ifs,¡¯ and in the end, I won!"


    As he thought this, the Young Commander laughed heartily, spirits soaring, victory over a formidable opponent echoing joyfully in his heart. Before him lay the toppled "Crocodile" standard, the desperately fighting enemy warriors, and the scattered, fleeing Militia boats. After the grand and cruel struggle, a dazzling victory had finally arrived!


    "The strategic goal of this battle has been achieved, the Mexica Naval Forces will henceforth control the Lerma River. The Tarasco¡¯s painstakingly built navy over decades has been destroyed in an instant, its elite forces utterly decimated!"


    Xiulote looked all around, of the mighty four hundred Tarasco vessels that once sailed, now less than ninety truly escaped.


    These large vessels, which could carry forty fighters, were no mere canoes given their complex craftsmanship. They required large timbers for their keels, careful treatment of durable wood, and the affixing of various wooden components on the exterior. In an era of limited production capabilities, even with bronze tools, the Tarasco people couldn¡¯t rebuild a single large vessel in just two or three months. They also lacked the manpower for shipbuilding. In other words, the Tarasco Navy¡¯s losses were irrevocable during this war.


    Moreover, along with their fleet, perished the Samurai and Militia adept at naval combat.


    With a cursory glance, the Young Commander mentally tallied. The over three hundred large vessels and numerous small boats Tarasco abandoned on the battlefield signified the loss of more than thirteen thousand Samurai and Militia, along with three to four thousand proficient sailors. Post-battle, the Rivermouth fortress would fall into utter vacancy, an excellent opportunity for conquest!


    Hundreds of large vessels blazed fiercely on the lake, countless enemy boats fled south in panic, and the Naval Forces¡¯ smaller boats on both flanks initiated pursuit. The longwind brought facial warmth, and amidst the wind were the faint sounds of battle and cheering.


    Xiulote admired the magnificent scene. At this moment, he felt unbounded exhilaration, as if he were drinking strong liquor, galloping across the battlefield, commandeering his troops to crush the enemy. Nothing could be more thrilling for a man!


    After a while, the sounds of intense fighting up ahead gradually waned, the warriors¡¯ cheers suddenly grew loud. A bit later, Annatri proudly arrived by boat. Holding a broken half of the enemy standard in one hand and dragging a bound Samurai prisoner with the other, she strode up to the Commander¡¯s platform.


    "Your Highness, we¡¯ve won a great victory! I, ¡¯Source of the River,¡¯ Annatri, present you with the enemy Commander¡¯s flag!"


    The female warrior saluted with her head held high. Then, stepping forward, she threw the broken "Crocodile" Commander¡¯s Flag onto the Commander¡¯s high platform.


    Xiulote looked down slightly, observing the tattered "Crocodile" banner, the withered long feather on the flag¡¯s tip, and the bloodstained dark patterns, clearly the flag from the large ship that had pursued him! He watched for a moment, didn¡¯t pick it up, but instead burst into laughter.


    "Excellent! Annatri, my valiant Naval Commander, our forces will henceforth rule the river, unchallenged. Now, you truly are the ¡¯Sole Source of the Lerma River!¡¯"

 Chapter 347 - 177: Great Victory! The Finale of the Naval Battle_2

    Upon hearing this, Annatri hesitated slightly and respectfully bowed her head. She gladly accepted the title bestowed by His Highness and tacitly agreed to a closer affiliation. Then, she stood up and dragged the samurai captive in front of His Highness. Subsequently, the female samurai accurately landed two kicks on the captive¡¯s hind knees, causing him to kneel down with a thud, temporarily unable to stand up.


    "Your Highness, this is the enemy¡¯s family Great General and Head Warrior, named something like Green Fish! He is very capable, having led the family samurais to fight to their deaths behind you, allowing the enemy¡¯s Commander-in-Chief to narrowly escape... Right, the arrow that wounded the Head Eagle Warrior was shot by him!"


    At these words, the female samurai angrily lifted her foot again, swiftly kicking the captive on his side. This part of the human body is vulnerable, and at once, Green Fish clenched his upper body in pain, bit his lip, and did not utter a sound.


    Xiulote nodded slightly; there were intermittent plumes of smoke on the battlefield in front. He had noticed the small boats fleeing from the enemy ships, but the vanguard was blocked by the family samurais fighting desperately behind, and soon lost track of the "Crocodile" nobility. He ordered the small boats on both flanks to pursue and search, but he was actually indifferent to the outcome.


    The Chapala fleet fled downstream without engaging in battle, clearly having lost all morale, and was incapable of supporting the rivermouth fortifications for some time. As Oste discarded the flagship and fled alone, it had no impact on the battle situation. Having lost both the Naval Forces and the elite warriors, the "Crocodile" nobility, even if they successfully escaped back to the rivermouth fortifications, could no longer assemble a naval force that posed a threat to the Mexica¡¯s supply routes.


    Xiulote didn¡¯t think further, examining the samurai captive before him. Although his face was smudged with soot, one could still see the inherent fierceness and ferocity in him.


    The Young Commander looked toward the lake, where a few big Tarasco boats were still fiercely resisting, likely manned by the most loyal family samurais. He pondered for a moment and then spoke unenthusiastically.


    "The Alliance highly values brave warriors. Since you are a skilled Head Warrior of the family, would you consider surrendering?" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Upon hearing this, Kulucha raised his head, staring intensely at the Mexica Marshal who had defeated his family head. He was surprised by the opponent¡¯s youth and reminded again of that nearly successful pursuit. His expression changed many times, and finally, he sighed in agony.


    "It was you! Had it continued that day... how could it have come to this..."


    Xiulote gave a faint smile.


    "Green Fish, the Alliance aspires for the world! This western campaign shall completely conquer the Tarasco Kingdom. If you surrender now and distinguish yourself during the campaign, you could establish your own renowned family!"


    Upon hearing this, Kulucha felt a chill in his heart, yet his expression grew even more resolute.


    "The kingdom has stood for hundreds of years; the Prepetcha people have upheld their lineage for thousands, and we will not perish at the hands of Aztec barbarians! I will never betray the family head I faithfully serve, nor shall I submit to an envoy of a foreign god!"


    Xiulote remained calm, gently shaking his head. The Prepetcha people and the Mexica descended from the same line, both are in fact descendants of the northwestern Canine Descendants branch, with very similar languages. He watched the opponent¡¯s expression, and only after a long moment, he asked in a deep voice.


    "The Alliance values bravery above all. Before proceeding to the Divine Kingdom, do you have any last words?"


    Kulucha nodded affirmatively, speaking gravely.


    "Your Highness of a foreign god, please allow me to compose a poem to offer to the deities."


    Xiulote nodded slightly, waiting calmly. Annatri also showed admiration. The samurai facing death composedly was in line with the Mexica¡¯s aesthetic.


    After some time, Kulucha straightened his back, looking at the sky with a faint smile.


    "A warrior¡¯s body is like a tasty whitefish, which should die at its strongest, in the most glorious way. Oh, supreme Sun God, I will offer myself to you, please savor my delicacy!"


    Upon hearing this poem, the surrounding warriors all showed admiration.


    Xiulote then nodded again and calmly gave the order.


    "Grant him an honorable death!"


    Immediately, two experienced warriors came forward and dragged Kulucha to another ship. Then, one warrior firmly held him down while the other drew out the sacrificial Obsidian Dagger. Moments later, the executioner respectfully returned, kneeling on one knee before His Highness, holding the calm head in his hands.


    Xiulote cast one last glance at that serene face, softly reciting an ancient poem.


    "A warrior is like a fading flower, calmly and serenely heading to the Divine Kingdom."


    Subsequently, the Young Commander¡¯s expression turned serious, and he exclaimed loudly.


    "Place the severed head on the enemy chief¡¯s flag, call on the still-resisting enemy warriors to surrender, and intimidate all the Tarasco captives!"


    The executioner respectfully bowed, grabbing the tattered "Crocodile" flag, and hurriedly departed.


    Following this, the Young Commander again waved the command flag, issuing loud orders.


    "Flank boats sail upstream, pursue the fleeing enemy boats! Frontline boats surround the resisting enemy boats, shoot down those unwilling to surrender with arrows! Rear boats retrieve fallen warriors, extinguish major fires on Tarasco boats, and treat our wounded and lightly injured captives! Remainder of the flagship, follow me to assess the battle situation!"


    As Xiulote ordered, the clarion call of horns sounded again, heralding victory. Numerous messenger boats dispersed in all directions. Soon, the Mexica Naval Forces, like a huge Feathered Serpent, spread its wings, roaring upstream to pursue.


    Only then did Annatri slightly bow her head, softly asking.


    "Your Highness, how is the condition of the Head Eagle Warrior?"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then smiled slightly.


    "Bertade is behind us, with no life-threatening injuries. Annatri, you may go visit him on my behalf."

 Chapter 348 - 177: Great Victory! The Finale of the Naval Battle_3

    The Samurai graciously accepted, bowed her head, and then hurried away. On the swaying deck, she moved swiftly and soon found her target.


    The Head Warrior lay stiffly on a cotton blanket, his robust upper body partially exposed, with a white cloth wrapped around his back that had been struck by an arrow. The white cloth bore slight bloodstains, indicating that the wound had been treated, and the bleeding had been stopped.


    Annatri carefully examined the location of the wound before changing her expression to one of pride and loudly asked,


    "Eagle Warrior Head, His Highness sent me to visit you. Are you severely injured?"


    Hearing the familiar voice, Bertade slowly raised his head and looked solemnly at the female warrior.


    "Annatri, I am not severely hurt. The Priest with the army has already checked it. The arrow went deep into the flesh, but the damage to the tendons and bones is minor. I have not coughed blood, nor have my organs been damaged, do not worry... Anna, you are Commander-in-Chief of the Naval Forces, quickly go command the naval forces to fight and pursue the remaining enemies!"


    Hearing about the damage to the tendons, Annatri stepped forward to examine Bertade¡¯s back more closely. The Head Warrior grimaced with pain, gritted his teeth, and slight sweat appeared on his forehead.


    After a while, the female warrior stood up resolutely and spoke loudly.


    "I have herbs passed down in my clan, I¡¯ll have someone bring them to you later. You are one of the few warriors who can match me, and your wound needs to heal completely so that you won¡¯t lack strength in future battles!"


    Then, with a slight smile and narrowed eyes, Annatri left an illusion-like cheerful face for Bertade and turned away without hesitation.


    "Once your injury heals, I will come and assess your martial arts skills!"


    As the wind howled and boats raced swiftly until dusk fell, hundreds of Mexica boats headed south, still chasing the enemy and lighting torches in the distance. And on the dark Lake Yuriria, there were still boats burning on the water surface. The flickering torches and burning boats, in conjunction with the stars above, reflected the most resplendent night scene of the Middle Ancient Times.


    Xiulote sat cross-legged on a high platform, watching the night¡¯s fireworks. Warriors continuously came to report, bowing respectfully, as enemy nobles of various ranks were brought in and subsequently imprisoned en masse. As Commander-in-Chief, all military intelligence convened here, and all decisions were made from this location.


    The Young Commander smiled and nodded graciously as he praised the valiant efforts of his generals, calmly decided the fate of the prisoners, and openly accepted the respectful gazes of the warriors.


    Only by the next day¡¯s dawn were the final results of the battle tallied. In this battle, the Mexica Naval Forces captured nearly a hundred damaged ships of Tarasco, while the other more than two hundred large ships became torches burning all night. The Naval Forces themselves lost about forty to fifty large ships, now counting a total of three hundred and fifty ships, half of which needed to return for repairs. The smaller boats were relatively well-preserved, capturing several hundreds, now totaling twelve hundred. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As the morning light faintly gleamed, Lake Yuriria was tinged with a pale red, with bodies in Leather Armor or cloth floating on the water surface, numerous carnivorous large fish drawn by the scent of blood, and crocodile-like creatures tearing at sinking bodies in the water. The casualties of the enemy in this great battle was indeed hard to calculate.


    Xiulote could only estimate from the escaping enemy forces. The Tarasco army, along with the Naval Forces, totaled about twenty-five thousand people. The escaping Chapala fleet consisted of eighty large ships, several hundred small boats, approximately five thousand people, half warriors and half Militia. Those who escaped south were only several hundred small boats, estimated to be over three thousand Militia. The captives taken included about five hundred warriors and two to three thousand Militia. Thus, the enemy had lost a total of fourteen thousand warriors, militia, and sailors¡ªessentially the entire army was annihilated!


    In the naval battle, apart from the Commander-in-Chief who was sacrificially protected by many, ordinary warriors had virtually no way out. Once ships engaged in combat, it always ended with one side completely perishing, hence the extreme cruelty. The Mexica Naval Forces also suffered significant casualties, mainly concentrated in the desperate assault of a hundred large ships. The Naval Forces lost nearly a thousand Longbow Militia, over a thousand sailors, and more than two thousand Royal Warriors directly. Additionally, several thousands were injured and needed significant recovery.


    After learning the casualty numbers, Xiulote was silent for a moment. He spent half a day, according to Mexica traditions, conducting a grand water-based sacrificial rite.


    Amid the ethereal singing of accompanying Priests, dozens of Tarasco nobles were sacrificed to the highest Chief Divine, and dozens of freshly caught crocodiles were sacrificed to the water¡¯s Rain Divine. Thousands of Mexica warriors knelt on the deck, loudly praising the victory given by the Chief Divine and praying for the gates of the Divine Kingdom to open. In the young Priest¡¯s main prayer, the Chief Divine would guide the souls of the fallen soldiers to the peaceful and beautiful Red Kingdom!


    After soothing the soldiers¡¯ spirits, Xiulote did not pause. He left the severely injured warriors and Militia in the nearby Otomi Village, leaving a detachment of Naval Forces to assist with the plundering Otomi Legion. Immediately, the army marched day and night, returning to the Wooden Fort on the North Coast.


    On the ramparts of the main fort, the flags of the Holy City still flew high. Xiulote and his father held a private meeting, making firm decisions. He left his war-weary direct-command warriors in the Wooden Fort to recover, asking his father to handle the follow-up rewards and reorganization, and to expedite the repair of the damaged large ships. Afterward, he requested that Annatri, undaunted by hardship, lead a portion of the intact Naval Forces to transport the next batch of food eastward and then meet the reinforcements promised by the northern general.


    Soon after, Xiulote mobilized ten thousand rested Samurai and eight thousand Longbow Militia, along with five thousand Otomi laborers, to launch another attack. The main army was strictly organized, carrying Longbows, Powerful Crossbows, War Clubs, and Copper Spears. The laborers worked diligently, dragging small catapults and straightforward shield carts. The Craftsmen were tense, carrying new weapons sealed for freshness and un-embarked Gunpowder materials. The Young Commander wasted no time, concentrating all his forces, giving the Tarasco no time to gather their forces!


    In just a few days, over twenty thousand Mexica troops crossed the river southward, besieging the fortress at the Rivermouth, causing a full-scale disturbance on the northern front!

 Chapter 349 - 178: October Siege, Shaking the World Part 1

    In the golden autumn of October, flocks of geese arrived from the north, alighting upon the shimmering waters. Clouds drifted away with the gentle breeze, dissolving into the clear blue sky. Sunshine cascaded down, birds and beasts donned their autumn fur, and the fragrance of ripe fruit filled the air. After the final goodbye of a light drizzle, the rainy season withdrew quietly, and the harvest of corn had already begun.


    By the banks of Lerma River, warning bonfires were lit anew, and the fleet-footed loyal envoy dashed out from the fortress at the rivermouth. He raced southward from Akanbaro State, through the brief gap soon to be encircled by the Mexica, sprinting across the weed-infested fields of the north, his vision filled with desolate omens of slaughter. He ran without cessation, passing through densely clustered villages in the Patzcuaro Lake region. All around, women and the elderly, distressed, toiled in the vast fields where youth and strength had long since been conscripted.


    The messenger continued southward in silence, finally arriving at the capital of the kingdom, "Hummingbird City," Copper Capital Qinchongcan.


    Outside the city, able-bodied men still labored in the fields, and a vast fleet of transport ships navigated the lake, as ruthless grain requisition squads dispersed from the city gates and spread across the region. He entered the city, passing through the barely thriving capital market, and walked past the huge craftsmen¡¯s workshops for weapon forging, casting a reverent glance at the "House of Wind" Akatla, where priests danced and chanted frenziedly in endless complex rituals atop the sacred pyramid.


    The messenger presented the token from the northern marshal and finally reached the heart of the kingdom, the supreme "Palace of Wind" Akatlas. In front of the solemn Chief Minister, he knelt exhaustedly, articulating the marshal¡¯s message word by word.


    "Respected Chief Minister, naval battle, the Mexica, burning fire arrows, Chapala Legion, fleeing without fighting, northern marshal, total military defeat," S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With that, the messenger prostrated himself entirely, not daring to gaze upon the Chief Minister¡¯s stormy countenance. Catching his breath, he pleaded loudly.


    "Chief, the northern marshal requests aid from the supreme King! The Mexica advance swiftly as the wind, a massive army of twenty thousand will arrive within days, and they have completely surrounded the fortress at the rivermouth. Mexica ships have breached the rivermouth, blocking the water gate, cutting off all support to the fortress..."


    Upon hearing this, Chief Minister Jinjinni furrowed his eyebrows deeply, eventually unable to refrain from violently questioning.


    "The channel at the rivermouth is narrow and long, no more than thirty meters at its narrowest, and barricaded by merely seven or eight large boats. The fortress walls soar high at the rivermouth, with its west wall standing right on the riverbank. Archers and stone-throwers positioned on the high walls can easily dominate the channel. With a few hundred elite naval forces blocking the channel, and thousands of archers raining stones from the ramparts, even if ten thousand Mexica die, they cannot break through the defense! How could the west water gate be sealed?!"


    Facing the Chief¡¯s reproach, the messenger bowed deeper again. Distraught and fearful, he explained in a low voice.


    "The marshal was disastrously defeated in the naval battle... such a defeat that... he barely escaped with his life. The main strength of the naval forces was completely annihilated, losing all the large boats, leaving only over three hundred small boats. The enemy¡¯s large boats, equipped with arrow-resistant wooden shields and canopies, carrying longbows with extreme range, and fire arrows to ignite ships... These three hundred small boats merely held them off for a day before the enemy flotilla dispersed them..."


    Hearing this, Jinjinni¡¯s chest tightened in pain as if being sliced by a knife. The mighty and vast naval forces of the kingdom were reduced to mere remnants! These were the strong naval forces built up over decades, even nearly a century!


    The Chief Minister¡¯s face was as still as water, and he remained silent, making a fierce resolution in his mind.


    "The naval forces that doomed the kingdom, ought to kill Osthpa! Once this battle concludes, split the ¡¯Crocodile¡¯s¡¯ body into five parts, sacrifice to the gods, and the ¡¯Crocodile¡¯s¡¯ fief shall become directly managed land!"


    The messenger sneaked a glance at the Chief. He dared not detail how the enemy had acquired those large boats equipped with wooden shields and canopies. He simply continued to lie prostrate, carefully reporting back.


    "Dozens of enemy large boats endured the barrage from the city and forced their way through the rivermouth channel into Cuitzeo Lake. Afterwards, the besieging enemies moved to the southwest of the fortress, establishing a stronghold by Cuitzeo Lake to supply this flotilla. The Mexica then used this location as a base to scout the shores of Cuitzeo Lake, severing all naval support to the rivermouth fortress!"


    Jinjinni slightly closed his eyes, calming his emotions. Then, he asked sternly.


    "Look at me! How many samurai are currently in the rivermouth fortress? How many militia? What about the provisions? How long does the marshal expect to hold?"


    Only then did the messenger look up, meeting the Chief Minister¡¯s fierce gaze, and shivered involuntarily. He answered truthfully, not daring to conceal anything.


    "The Mexica advance tremendously fast, and only a third of the samurai from the northern defense line made it into the fortress in time. Now, the marshal has two hundred household samurai, General Kukuna has three hundred, and the local nobility of Akanbaro State have a thousand, totaling one thousand five hundred!"


    "As for the militia, at the time of deployment, the fortress was garrisoned by three thousand Chapala militia, five thousand newly supported militia from the Lake Region. Two thousand beaten troops fled back during the battle, and three thousand militia were urgently called in from nearby, totaling thirteen thousand!"


    "...After supporting the fortress, many of the northern forts are depleted of soldiers. Now, there are only less than two thousand local samurai and twelve thousand militia! The samurai and militia have suffered heavy losses, but the originally stored food is plentiful. Each fort has at least half a year¡¯s provisions, and the rivermouth fortress has a full year¡¯s supply!"


    The messenger was clearly a trusted envoy of the northern marshal, intimately acquainted with military details. Now, he recounted every matter meticulously, revealing the complete situation in the north. Finally, he bowed deeply, shouting loudly.

 Chapter 350 - 178 - The Siege of October, The World Trembles Part 2

    "Before departure, the Marshal slashed his palm to swear an oath! He would tenaciously defend the fortress to the death, until the provisions were entirely depleted, until the very last soldier, vowing to share fate with the Rivermouth Fortress!"


    Jinjinni carefully observed the Envoy for a while and nodded slightly before falling into deep thought.


    According to the King¡¯s orders before he left, Jinjinni had sent ten thousand Militia from the Lake Region to the north a month ago, five thousand to the Rivermouth Fortress and to the Northern Stronghold each. These urgently conscripted ordinary Militia were not adept at open-field warfare but could be used for defending the city. The Mexica siege troops numbered just over twenty thousand. With the robustness of the Rivermouth Fortress, one thousand five hundred Samurai and thirteen thousand Militia should at least be able to hold out for half a year!


    The problem now was that the north was extremely lacking in Samurai, losing the ability to sortie from the city. The connections between different defensive lines were left for the Mexica to cut off. Each fortress fighting its own battle would only lead to the fall of each one by one.


    Based on his thirty years of experience in directing wars, to defend the cities over the long term, there must be a force to defend the countryside! Only with a capable Samurai legion ready to sortie and attack the enemy¡¯s weak points at any time, could they prevent the enemy siege from advancing smoothly. Now, with the Rivermouth Fortress unable to provide support, the only option was to support the weak northern line of strongholds.


    With this in mind, Jinjinni waved his sleeve and pointed at the Envoy.


    "Take this down."


    The Envoy opened his mouth, wishing to say something more on behalf of the Marshal. The guards had already quickly stepped forward and taken the Northern Envoy away.


    Afterward, the Chief Minister closed his eyes and furrowed his brow while fiddling with his fingers inside his sleeve to calculate.


    "Since my last discussion of military affairs with His Majesty, the Lake Region has conscripted thirty thousand more Militia. Ten thousand to the northern line, twenty thousand to the southern line. Since the war began, the Lake Region has contributed a hundred thousand able-bodied men to the war effort, nearly half of whom have already died in battle!"


    Thinking this, Jinjinni shook all over. With less than a million people at the heart of the Kingdom¡¯s rule in the Lake Region, such a proportion of able-bodied men conscripted was nearly catastrophic for agricultural production. At this rate of consumption, two whole generations were being erased, along with the Kingdom¡¯s future!


    What made Jinjinni even more desperate was that he had only three thousand Samurai at hand, and he still needed to further conscript able-bodied men to maintain the situation in the north and south.


    The long wind blew into the magnificent Palace of Wind, driving a mournful toll of wind chimes, like the ominous sound of a nation¡¯s demise. The Chief Minister¡¯s fingers trembled violently, and he could no longer continue calculating. After a long moment, he finally opened his eyes abruptly, revealing a cold and intimidating gaze, and hoarsely shouted.


    "Conscript all able-bodied men of the Lake Region, those of Nobility who resist shall die! Those fourteen years old and above, below fifty, who are taller than half the length of a Spear, all shall be enlisted in the military! Conscript the robust farmwives, those who can wield a Spear, all shall be enlisted in the military!"


    "Deploy a thousand Samurai to support the strongholds of the north, be vigilant in harassing the Mexica Northern Army!"


    "Send Envoys to the west, to console the Chapala Legion! Promise a fiefdom to the ¡¯Feather¡¯ family Prince, to quickly reorganize and come to the aid!"


    "Send Envoys to the south, to the mountain state of Weytamo, and order them to support from the north, also promising a Prince¡¯s fiefdom!"


    "Send Divine Descendant Envoys together with the Tlaxcala envoys, to escort the Predecessor Monarch¡¯s princesses to the East, to immediately complete the alliance through marriage!"


    "Send Divine Descendant Envoys to urge the southern Tecos Tribe. The Kingdom has agreed to their conditions for autonomy, but they must send more Samurai or Militia. The Tribes will be granted noble titles based on the number of troops provided, with the one who contributes the most being named Prince of Tecos, a rank above all others. The Royal Family will also grant princesses and noble daughters in marriage to the Prince of Tecos!"


    "Dispatch the Envoy discreetly, inform His Majesty on the southern front!"


    Following the Chief Minister¡¯s command, the guards scattered to fulfill their orders. Soon, in the august hall of the Royal Palace, only the aged statesman in ornate attire remained, his expression solemn, his silence imposing.


    Jinjinni was motionless for a moment, then slowly removed the Feather Crown from his head, revealing a full head of white hair. He looked up at the ancient murals on the ceiling. The Hummingbird of his family accompanied by the Royal Eagle, and thirty years had flown by in the beating of their wings. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Majesty, I have served the Royal Family for thirty years. Should we emerge victorious in this battle, I shall use my life to be accountable for today¡¯s decision!"


    A gentle breeze scattered the elder¡¯s white hair which no longer held the stern dignity of before. Then the breeze travelled a thousand miles, and a new round of running Envoys once again started from the Capital City.


    The Envoy of the Capital City dashed out from the city gates. He saw thousands of conscripted Samurai, soon to drain the last of the Lake Region¡¯s manpower as they spread out to eighty-one villages. He then sped southward, passing halfway harvested fragrant fields, and catching up with a large troupe of laborers transporting grain. All along the way, he saw nothing but exhausted and numb faces. He crossed the last of the supporting Lake Region Militia, men without Leather Armor and armed only with Stone Spears. Soon, the fields before him lay desolate again, for he had reached the frontier of the Xitaqualo state.


    Without hesitation, he passed the sparse rear camps, heading for the Stone Fort where the Royal Banner flew. He ignored the calls from patrolling Samurai, entering the sturdy stone citadel. He passed the ill-disciplined Barbarian mercenaries, walked by the Formations of the Long Spear Legions, pausing only briefly on the fortress¡¯s drill ground. There were hundreds of bowmen getting accustomed to the massive Mexica Longbows, the sound of Feathered Arrows piercing the air like the roar of a fierce beast.


    The Envoy lowered his head, continuing to move stealthily. He walked calmly past the neatly arranged Samurai, silently surveying the stern-faced Nnobility, finally approaching the Imperial Guards who wielded great axes, finding a Guard Captain adorned in Feathers.


    "A letter from the Capital City, the Moon Goddess blesses us."


    The Envoy from the Capital City spoke gravely.


    The Guard Captain¡¯s expression tightened. The Moon Goddess, a symbol of death, was surely no good news! He nodded slightly and turned away. Moments later, the Guard Captain returned without a word, leading the Envoy to a side hall where the august King awaited.


    Then, the Guard Captain turned and walked away. He had not gone far from the side hall when he heard the King¡¯s angry muffled roar.


    "Damn!"


    That was followed by the crashing sound of metal on stone. Hearing the noise, the Guard Captain¡¯s heart skipped a beat. He dared not look back and quickened his pace, hurrying away from the danger.


    Within the stone house at the back, the buzzing of Bronze and the clinking of Gold Ornaments could be heard rolling on the stone floor. King Su¡¯angua, clad in military attire and wearing an ornate Bronze Leather Armor, donned a Copper Helmet with an eagle and Feathers, as majestic as the embodiment of a Heavenly Divine. At that moment, his eyes filled with murderous intent, glaring at the Envoy prostrate on the ground.


    After a long silence, the King¡¯s expression softened, and he began to speak slowly.


    "You are not to blame, it¡¯s not you who should die! The ¡¯Hummingbird¡¯ Chief¡¯s actions have been prudent; I will endorse his orders afterwards. You may leave!"


    Only then did the Envoy climb to his feet and retreat.


    With no one else in the side hall, the young King yanked out the Bronze Axe and severed the wooden table before him with one strike. After pondering for a moment, he took the Bronze Axe with him as he made his way to the highest Watchtower.

 Chapter 351 - 179: October Siege, Shaking the World Part 2

    The King¡¯s garrisoned stone fort sat atop a hill nearly a hundred meters high, in an extremely perilous position that was the core of the southern defensive line. The watchtower atop the fortress was the highest point in the region, offering a commanding view that laid the entire battlefield bare.


    The clear sunshine bathed the lofty summit of the stone fort, where samurai stationed there saluted their supreme King. A fresh breeze swept through the wooden watchtower, the flags of the three gods unfurled in the wind, and the royal Eagle Banner fluttered boldly in the sky. In the very center of the watchtower stood the royal standard, passed down for a hundred years, from the hands of the predecessor monarch, Tariacuri, to this day.


    Su¡¯angua stood beneath the great flag, silently looking up. The royal eagle, its wings spread, soared gloriously on the flag. Then, he gazed toward the frontline of battle, his chest swelling with emotion. Before him lay rolling hills covered in lush, tall forests, stretching towards the majestic mountains of the East. Among the hills and beside streams, there were stone forts and wooden fortresses dotting the mountains. The Kingdom and Alliance¡¯s banners alternated and drew near each other, fluttering mercilessly on the battlefield.


    At this moment, the sounds of fierce combat carried on the distant wind, occasionally mixed with the piercing screams of agony, proclaiming the cruelty of war. In front of the hillside stone fort at the very front lines, one could vaguely discern the earthen ramparts where archers from both sides exchanged arrows and fell in succession. From time to time, warriors fell from the high ground, twisting into bizarre shapes on the ground, adding new stains to the earth.


    On the ground, the Mexica samurai held their shields high, braving the storm of stones and feathered arrows from the city walls, hoisting long wooden and bamboo ladders before suddenly slamming them against the battlements again. Immediately, the samurai wielding war clubs charged up with a ferocious cry, clashing with the teeming militia at the top, then falling silently. Usually, a Mexica samurai could rely on his shield and cotton armor to forcibly slay several militia before being pierced by a copper spear from an unknown assailant and returning his soul to the Divine Kingdom.


    When a concentrated volley from the longbows outside the fort struck, dozens of Tarasco militiamen died instantly, tightening the breached defenses. With the Mexica nobility¡¯s Eagle Banner war group taking the lead, the Mexica samurai seized the opportunity to climb up, gathering more and more behind their shields. Faced with this critical moment, the Kingdom¡¯s military-service nobility set an example, leading the ready Tarasco samurai with their copper spears into the fray, striking the first blow against the elite enemy forces. Then, the vassal chieftains followed suit, leading the face-tattooed Tekos warriors with their stone hammers and copper spears, roaring as they joined the battle group.


    These warriors, clad in war armor, fought fiercely, invoking the names of the gods, heading off to different Divine Lands. The clubs from both sides crushed heads, copper spears pierced through chests and bellies, stone hammers snapped shoulders, as they embraced each other and fell together. Dead bodies kept rolling off the ramparts, some landing within the fort, where alert militia would step forward. They would pry open arms that were still warm to strip off blood-stained armor and don it themselves, in hope of gaining the slightest chance of survival.


    However, in the King¡¯s eyes, these tiny figures desperately struggling in battle were no more than tens of thousands of ants struggling beneath his throne. Their fate was already sealed!


    "The southern line originally had over ten thousand samurai and thirty thousand militiamen. I¡¯ve brought two thousand Copper-axe Guards, five thousand elite spear-wielding militiamen, and five thousand ferocious barbarian mercenaries. The Tekos from the South have sent ten thousand tribal warriors. Then the Lake Region sent another twenty thousand militiamen. This amounts to twenty-three thousand samurai, ten thousand elite militiamen, and fifty thousand defending militiamen!" S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Swells of emotion surged within Su¡¯angua¡¯s heart, for this was a tremendous army, capable of dominating the world.


    Suddenly, a thunderous "bang" resounded in succession, along with the cheers of the Mexica people. The King looked up again, to see the enemy¡¯s massive siege engines hurling a volley of heavy stone projectiles. The wildly flying stone shots lacked precision, yet those that by chance struck the battlements felled several of the defending enemy. The actual lethality of the stone shots was not significant, but under the weight of stones that could be dozens of kilograms, the dead were horrifically mangled. The morale of the militiamen plummeted in the face of the siege engines¡¯ roar.


    The thought of the opposing forces weighed heavily on Su¡¯angua¡¯s mind again, a mountainous pressure settling upon his shoulders.


    "Since fighting began in June, nearly a fourth of my forces have been lost, with five thousand samurai and fifteen thousand militiamen dead on the southern front! The Mexica have constructed siege engines capable of hurling stones and earthen platforms for stationing longbowmen. The small wooden fortresses can¡¯t hold out for long, only the stone forts in advantageous terrain can staunchly defend."


    "Surrounding a few key forts, the Kingdom has deployed thirteen thousand samurai and thirty thousand ordinary militiamen, fighting the Mexica on all fronts. Hundreds die or are wounded daily, and the consumed supplies are counted by the hundred thousands of kilograms!"


    The young King¡¯s expression was grave but resolute. In his eyes was a steadfast confidence, fearless of all combat.


    "My battle flag stands here, and the southern line is as stable as the towering Chololo Volcano! Even with new weapons, the Mexica warriors¡¯ casualties cannot be few, such an offensive cannot continue for much longer! The first batch of imitated longbows has already been deployed to the battlefield, letting the Mexica taste their own medicine."


    With this thought, Su¡¯angua emitted a long howl, gazing towards the distant East. From his vantage point, he could vaguely make out another vast stone fort, where the Mexica King¡¯s banner waved proudly.


    King Aweit sat calmly in the great hall of the stone fort, flipping through the pages of a book. His demeanor was composed, indifferent to the brutal combat taking place outside. The specifics of frontline combat were planned by the skilled Commander-in-Chief Iskali and executed by the loyal Great General Stanley. The King needed only to wait patiently.

 Chapter 352 - 179 - The Siege of October, The World Trembles Part 2

    "The Royal Banner is here, that alone inspires the Samurai to fight forward, to live and die by the sword!"


    The King watched the booklet, silently tallying the casualty numbers of each Samurai battalion, and thought to himself in a low voice.


    "At the beginning of the war, Iskali¡¯s advance went smoothly. After June, the battles became increasingly difficult. With the enemy¡¯s Royal Banner arriving in August, the front lines could no longer progress¡ªit was like a repeat of history!"


    Aweit smiled faintly, the past drifting away with the wind. Now, he finally controlled the immense power of the Alliance, the party with absolute advantage.


    "Two thousand Samurai of military nobility¡¯s Battle Group, thirty thousand Royal Family Samurai, thirteen thousand Militia from the southern City-States. The Southern Army had a total of forty-five thousand Samurai! After the autumn harvest, twenty thousand Militia were conscripted to the front lines to build siege engines and Archery platforms. Forty thousand Militia transported food and built successive fortifications, securing the supply lines as solid as the towering Husko Volcano!"


    "Even more importantly, with the divine war¡¯s call, the support of the Elder and the High Priest, and the joining of Great Nobility eager for their own fiefs! The Samurai could sustain higher casualties while always maintaining high morale. Even though we¡¯ve already lost six thousand Samurai and eight thousand Militia, the Alliance will continue the war until the final victory!"


    "With the support of new-style weaponry, the casualties in assaulting the fortresses will remain at an acceptable ratio. How much longer can the Tarasco Kingdom now withstand?"


    At that thought, the King finally looked westward, gazing at the barely visible Tarasco Royal Banner, and smiled faintly.


    At that time, Aweit was still unaware of the Northern Route Army¡¯s situation, nor had he heard of that grand naval battle. He was planning the battle operations in the south, dealing with countless mundane affairs, and also contemplating surprise attacks through the waterways.


    Not until several days later did the Messenger from the Lake Capital City arrive in haste. The King rose in shock, asking aloud.


    "A great victory in the naval battle?!"


    "Yes. In the battle at Lake Yuriria, the Tarasco Naval Forces ceased to exist; the Lerma River up and down is all owned by the Alliance!"


    "Truly such a great victory?"


    Aweit repeated, disbelieving. He well knew the might of Tarasco¡¯s Naval Forces and the hundred-year legacy of the "Crocodile" family."


    "The Naval Commander personally narrated it in the Capital City! Your Highness fought bravely and commanded the battle while wounded by arrows, and the new incendiary Fire Arrows worked wonders!"


    "Xiulote was wounded? How serious is the injury?"


    A twinge of rare concern showed on the King¡¯s face.


    "It is said to be nothing serious. His Highness has already led the troops southward, surrounding the Rivermouth fortress!"


    Hearing this, Aweit¡¯s expression relaxed, and he then laughed heartily, feeling utterly exhilarated.


    "Excellent, most excellent! My young eagle has finally grown, flapping its pitch-black wings, soaring in the vast skies! The land around the lake, the City of the Hummingbird, will belong to the Alliance!"


    Together with the King¡¯s laughter, many Nobles bowed to offer congratulations. The Samurai showed longing and admiration, thinking of the Prince in the north and the victorious future. In the shadows of the throne, only the silent Intelligence Officer remained.


    Several hundred miles away in the East, a real young eagle flapped its wings for the first time. It circled in the sky for a moment, looking down on the magnificent Lake Capital City for the first time with a proud "yoohoo" call. Moments later, the small golden eagle swooped down, returning to the King¡¯s palace, landing on the shoulder of the girl in white.


    Little Aviloztli "yoohooed" again with delight. It cocked its head, glanced at the various Herbs in the girl¡¯s hands, uninterested in the strangely scented plants. Then, the little golden eagle tilted its neck, rubbing the girl¡¯s cheek with its soft down feathers, its eagle face showing innate pride.


    "That¡¯s great. Little Aviloztli, you¡¯ve finally learned to fly!"


    Alisa¡¯s eyes curved in a smile, she set down the Herbs she was mixing, and reached out to scoop the delightfully chirping eagle into her arms. The eagle did not resist, instead snuggling into the girl¡¯s embrace, occasionally continuing to cry out joyfully.


    "Alright, alright. I know you are very capable! Just as capable as Xiulote!... He, he has just won a great victory in the North. Little Aviloztli, you fly so fast, when can you help me go take a look at him?"


    The girl in white gently stroked the carved bird¡¯s small head and turned to look in the northwest direction. Longing flew like a bird, crossing thousands of waters and mountains, wondering when it would reach him and quietly fall into his heart.


    In the nearby Temple District, the High Priest showed a smile, exuding rare ease. The Northern Route Army had pressed all the military forces of the Holy City lineage and also deployed half of the Temple Guards, immense pressure that had him restless night after night. At this moment, he gathered the elders of the Priesthood¡¯s twelve groups and members of the Royal Family supporting the Northern Route Army for a hearty feast in the magnificent Priest Grand Hall.


    "May the Chief Divine bless the devout King, promising the ultimate victory! Honorable Elders, esteemed Nobility, let us raise our glasses together to celebrate the great victory of the Northern Route Army!"


    After delivering the profound toast, the High Priest looked around at everyone with a smile, waiting for their public endorsement.


    "Chief Divine bless, and to the King, congratulations!" This was the Elder Priest siding with the King.


    "Chief Divine bless, and to His Highness, congratulations!" This was the Elder Priest leaning towards His Highness.


    "Chief Divine bless, and to the King, congratulations!" Those were the fickle fence-sitters.


    "Chief Divine bless, and to the current King, congratulations, as well as to the future King!" These were the true members of the Royal Family lineage.


    The sounds of congratulations gradually drifted away, coming to the ship fleet by Lake Texcoco. The Naval Commander Annatri stood proudly at the prow, with the new banner of the commander flying behind her. On the banner, a Long River rushed westward, and several characters were inscribed on the East, precisely "the source of the Lerma River"!


    The female Samurai waved her hand, parting from the tall and thin quartermaster, Begire. Then she swung the Spear Flag again, and shouted loudly.


    "Naval Forces, set sail! Head to Xilotepec City!" S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    More than a hundred large boats and several hundred small boats then started moving slowly. They were filled with food, heading to the important town in the North to join the promised reinforcements of half a year.


    Within the palace of the former Otomi Divine Descendant in the important northern town, General Jaguar Osellor paced back and forth silently with his hands behind his back. On him was the aura of a recent battle in the North, seemingly carrying an indelible scent of blood.


    The Northern general pondered for a long time before he finally sighed softly.


    "Since the water battle is won, the siege is just a matter of time, His Highness¡¯s great momentum is already established! Considering the situation... the Northern Route Army lacks siege troops and has no risk of major battle losses... Rushing there now is reasonable and justifiable. Both branches of the Royal Family would then have an account to settle!"


    Upon this thought, Osellor finally called out loudly.


    "Guards at my side, go call the Messenger of the Northern Route Army to come, to discuss the matter of reinforcements!"


    The wind traveled a thousand miles, passing through the shaking world, and once more returned to the Rivermouth of the Lerma River, only to see a solemn and grim scene.


    The morning light fell on the sturdy Rivermouth Fortress, illuminating tired Samurais and Militia on the ramparts, along with a new "Crocodile" banner. Atop the walls were signs of damage and burning, and a silent stillness pervaded. Only when food transporters climbed to the top were sparse greetings suddenly heard.


    Outside the Rivermouth Fortress, defensive wooden barricades were riddled with breaches, the moat to the East had been partially filled in, and scattered earth platforms were erected outside the southern walls. The new siege camp built by the Mexica Army had already tightly surrounded the Eastern and Southern land.


    Within the vast siege camp, Mexica Samurais prepared for another day¡¯s battle, laborers began repairing damaged shield carts, Craftsmen replaced parts of small catapults, and Gunpowder Craftsmen carefully made flammable Paper Fireballs. Siege preparations unfolded methodically, with the Mexica legion holding an absolute tactical initiative, without concern for attacks from the Defending Army.


    Some time later, wisps of cooking smoke gradually rose. The camp was filled with the bustling noise of boiling commotion, and the aroma of food wafted through the air. It was the pre-battle breakfast, not intended to fully satiate the Samurais.


    In the middle of the camp, Xiulote erected the Black Wolf¡¯s banner, standing on the Marshal¡¯s high platform. He gazed at the stone walls, recalling recent battles, and stood in solemn contemplation without a word.

 Chapter 353 - 180: Fortress Siege, Corpses Rain Down - Part 1

    The faint morning light gradually brightened, making the blue-stone city walls more distinct. From afar, the walls were covered with sooty char and the dark red of coagulated blood. Under the sunlight, the morning dew gathered into glistening droplets on the ramparts, slowly meandering downward. The droplets slowly fell into the deep red, then darkened into black, silently dropping to the soil. Following this trail, one could discern the true color of the walls¡ªthe sturdy, blue-gray stone bricks.


    Xiulote gazed at these impenetrable city walls and sighed inwardly.


    The massive army had marched south and now, obstructed by these six-meter blue-stone walls, had been besieging the city for a month.


    At the onset of the siege, he was full of confidence, believing that, buoyed by their sweeping victories, they could directly storm the city and the Rivermouth Fortress would easily fall. The Young Commander¡¯s prestige was high at this time, and Bertade was healing on the North Coast, making all the generals submissive and unquestioning. It was then that the distinguished teacher, Olosh, spoke up and advised caution, prompting Xiulote to act prudently.


    Heeding the advice, he first set up large camps to the south and east of the fortress, and built a water camp by the Cuitzeo Lake. He then dispatched Samurai to patrol and control all passageways, effectively isolating the Rivermouth Fortress as a lone city, with all land and water routes cut off. Subsequently, under the cover of shield-carts, the Otomi Militia began to fill the eastern moat and dismantle the wooden palisades outside the city. They also constructed shooting mounds about a hundred steps from the south of the city, reaching seven to eight meters high, from which Crossbowmen could shoot from an elevated position. Only after all these preparations were the proper assaults on the city launched.


    The Rivermouth Fortress was in an excellent position, easy to defend but difficult to attack. Surrounded by rivers, and with soft, waterlogged soil, it was impossible to dig tunnels or to collapse the walls. The fortress gates were blocked, and with insufficient metal tools, they could not ram or dig under the walls. Conquering such a fortress relied only on traditional methods of scaling the walls, but if the Defending Army was numerous and resolute, the casualties from such attempts were unacceptably severe, as demonstrated by their recent attempts.


    Recalling the ferocity of the siege, Xiulote shook his head slightly. This had been his first real encounter with a strong city as the commander-in-chief of a large army.


    On the first day of the attack, the Mexica Northern Army mobilized its full force. Behind the cover of shield-carts, Crossbowmen suppressed the enemies¡¯ firing, and trebuchets moved close to launch projectiles. Then, with high morale, the Holy City Samurai approached the city walls, climbed ladders, and fell one after the other. The brutal fierce battle lasted only for a quarter but cost five hundred Samurai lives!


    The six-meter Stone Fort walls were nothing like the three-meter Wooden Fort walls. When the Samurai got within twenty steps, a rain of spears and stones fell, piercing Leather Armor and helmets. At five steps, lime and soil were continuously thrown down, obscuring vision. The moment the ladders were fixed, rolling logs and huge stones smashed down, breaking bones of those they hit.


    More troubling was the Tarasco people, who had somehow replicated over three hundred Mexica Longbows, plus over a thousand Tlaxcala Wooden Bows, shooting from inside the city and killing any approaching Samurais. Under the deadly power of the strong bows, the Samurai were as fragile as autumn flowers, withering as quickly as the Militia. And when a few brave Samurai reached the ramparts, they were immediately met with dense Spear Formations of Tarasco men and quickly overwhelmed and killed.


    After watching the battle for a quarter-hour without seeing any hope of breakthrough, Xiulote decisively blew the conch shell, ordering a retreat. The Holy City Samurai, carrying their shields, withdrew awkwardly while the Crossbowmen shot rapidly, suppressing the enemy on the city walls. Afterwards, he briefly tallied the numbers, and his heart ached. These were the most loyal Holy City Samurai, his family¡¯s most reliable force! S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Young Commander immediately had the nobles captured during the naval battle brought forward to inquire about the source of the Longbows. These Longbows had been the first batch of new weapons transported from the Capital City at the beginning of September. If not for the rapid southern advance of the Mexica army in October, an even larger second batch of Longbows would have reached them.


    "The Tarasco people are already mass producing Longbows in the Capital City, prioritizing supply to the southern front line where the fighting is definitely more brutal. War, a matter of survival, truly is the fastest pathway for the spread of technology! After this battle at Lake Yuriria, spies from various states eager to learn about Gunpowder will probably swarm from all directions, like flies drawn to the scent of blood. Fortunately, the craftsmanship of Gunpowder is complex, and there¡¯s little chance of it leaking out in the short term."


    Thinking this, Xiulote tilted his head slightly, his thoughts drifting to the distant future.


    Olosh, dressed in the grand uniform of a Legion Commander, strode forward. The Commander was promoted to Deputy Marshal, holding command at the North Coast Wooden Fort. He now temporarily took over as the Legion Commander, leading the Holy City Legion, fulfilling his long-held desire.


    "Your Highness, the Samurai are ready. Shall we feign an attack to lure the enemy as we did in the previous days, engaging them from a distance?"


    Looking at his close mentor, Xiulote smiled faintly, shaking his head.


    "The craftsmen have just made about a dozen simple nest carts, which will allow the Archers to shoot from a closer range. Today, we really attack again! Call Jiowar forward."


    Since the first day of the siege, the Young Commander had realized that attacking a fortress was a lengthy process. Unwilling to lose too many core Samurai, he could not rush. Recollecting historical battles, he reformulated his plans. First, he aimed to exhaust the elite and combat-ready Samurai of the Defending Army, then gradually demoralize the Militia inside the city. Only once the fighting spirit and manpower of the Defending Army had significantly weakened would he launch a real total land assault and a surprise naval attack!


    Under this new strategy, subsequent sieges mainly focused on ranged depletion. The Otapan Samurai were responsible for feigning attacks, making constant threatening moves toward scaling the walls to force the Defending Army to expose themselves. Next came the exchanges of fire between Archers, with the Northern Route Army leveraging its long-range advantage, occasionally launching burning Paper Fireballs. If the Defending Army completely took shelter behind the rampart¡¯s shielded platforms, then a real scaling attempt would follow, forcing a redeployment.

 Chapter 354 - 180: Fortress Siege, Corpses Rain Down - Part 2

    Thus, life gradually became fuel, burned steadily in the collision of the war machine in a ratio that the Mexica legion could accept. The morale of the defending army was also gradually decreasing, from the initial inspiring shouts to today¡¯s exhausted silence.


    Soon, Jiowar, the commander of the Otapan Legion, hurried over. After the water battle, the "Coyote¡¯s" fierce expression was replaced by respect, and he kneeled on one knee in compliance.


    "Respected elder brother, Your Highness, what are your orders?"


    Xiulote nodded, his gaze tightly fixed on Jiowar, and he ordered sternly.


    "Jiowar, the feint attack you conducted a few days ago was well done. Today, you are to lead the brave Ottopan Warriors in a real assault on the city! I¡¯m giving you a batch of additional Leather Armor, let the warriors wear Double Armor, and the Crossbowmen will continuously suppress the enemy atop the walls. Go and select your elite, boost their morale, and lead the vanguard when the battle drums sound! Do not allow a retreat until the conch sounds!"


    Hearing this harsh military order, Jiowar remained silent. In the feign attacks of the past few days, the Otapan Legion had already lost four to five hundred men. This real assault on the city would only result in even heavier losses. After a moment, feeling the Young Commander¡¯s intense gaze, he bowed his head again and accepted the order.


    "Your Highness, I obey your command and am willing to die in your service!"


    Quickly, with the military order issued, the Mexica camp truly boiled over. Thousands of warriors successively left the camp, and arrayed themselves hundreds of steps away, in front of the southern wall of the Rivermouth fortress. The Ottopan Warriors were positioned at the forefront, followed by the Temple Guards, the Holy City Warriors, and the Spear Legion. Once the vanguard could firmly establish their position on the walls, the following legions would join them. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the fortress, more than two thousand warriors from the western City-States also launched diversionary feint attacks.


    Confronting the major movements of the Mexica legion, the Tarasco defending army on the walls became visibly nervous. Warriors patrolled and shouted on the battlements to boost morale. The Militia worked hard to reinforce the Great Shields on the walls, thicken the piled earth platforms, and prepare all available wooden and stone materials to throw, including sand and lime.


    Xiulote calmly walked down from the high platform, leaving the commander¡¯s banner behind. In this advantageous siege battle, he no longer needed a flag to encourage his troops¡¯ morale. Then, under the protection of his trusted aide¡¯s shield, he moved to the front line, more than two hundred steps away from the walls, to better grasp the siege situation. Olosh also put on Leather Armor, holding a shield and a club, guarding beside him.


    Soon, the commander¡¯s signal flag swung mercilessly, and the guard¡¯s horn blew fiercely, announcing the beginning of the assault!


    Four hundred strong and colossal Temple Guards, frenzied in demeanor, holding massive Stirrup Crossbows, advanced to about one hundred and forty steps. There were dozens of small earth platforms, at the edge of the enemy Longbows¡¯ lethal range. With the help of rope ladders, nearly half of the Temple Guards climbed the nearly eight-meter-tall platforms to ready the heavy crossbows. The people of Tarasco on the walls could not make any counterattacks and desperately reinforced shields and platforms, hiding their bodies behind cover.


    Shortly afterwards, the solemn horn sounded again, and the Crossbowmen suddenly fired. "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" Hundreds of Crossbow Arrows launched from a superior height, tracing a slightly descending arc, and abruptly pinned on the walls.


    In an instant, several piteous screams arose, more than ten militia with inadequate protection were pierced by arrows. The bolts penetrated their frail bodies clad in cloth, knocking them down immediately. The lucky militia were killed instantly by vital shots without a struggle. Unlucky ones were pinned against the wooden shields next to them, struggling in place as blood profusely flowed from their ripped wounds.


    The "Crocodile" banners fluttered in the wind as the Tarasco Samurai, overseeing the battle, did not hesitate. They brandished their daggers, executing the grievously wounded militia who screamed in agony, granting them relief and preventing any further demoralization. The dead bodies were thrown outside the city to prevent decay within the city walls. Only the lightly wounded militiamen were simply bandaged so that they could continue to serve as fodder in the defense of the city. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After what seemed like dozens of breaths, the second volley of crossbow arrows whooshed through the air, this time claiming only three or four militiamen. With the enemy maintaining a state of evasion, this round of shooting caused minimal casualties. The crossbow arrows used in the heavy crossbows were more expensive, and the crossbowmen maintained long intervals between their shots, merely serving to suppress those atop the ramparts.


    With the launch of the second round of crossbow arrows, thousands of Longbow Samurai slowly advanced towards the city walls, pushing over two hundred small shield carts. The Samurai had grim expressions, fostering lethal intentions. As they entered within ninety paces, the longbowmen on the ramparts started to shoot. The "whoosh" of feathered arrows from above lodged deeply into the thick wood of the great shields. Occasionally, two or three arrows, by chance, would shoot through the openings in the shield, striking the Longbow Samurai behind who immediately fell, the arrows piercing their chests and bellies, draining their strength.


    At this point, the rudimentary yet sturdy shield carts would pause momentarily. The remaining Samurai would bend down, checking on their comrades, as ordered by the Marshal. If their teammate was dead, they would continue to push the cart forward. If there was still hope, they would stop in place, administer quick first aid, and then exchange fire with the city walls from there.


    Most of the shield carts advanced to about fifty paces before stopping together. This was the maximum distance at which a Tlaxcalan bow could penetrate leather armor, a distance measured with lives. Only then did the Samurai draw their bows and release a volley of arrows. The dense shower of arrows, flying over tens of paces, struck precisely into the eyes, mouths, or throats of the Tarasco archers, penetrating inches into their skulls. Several enemy archers peering out to shoot instantly fell dead, and about a dozen militiamen also perished silently. At such close range, to be hit by an arrow was to face death.


    The battle flags on the ramparts waved, and at the noble commander¡¯s behest, the reserve Tarasco Samurai didn¡¯t pause. They quickly picked up the precious longbows and continued to exchange fire with those below, taking extra care to shield their bodies.


    As the Longbowmen began to further oppress, about a dozen basic siege towers, carrying nearly a hundred archers and pushed forward by two hundred militiamen, targeted the left section of the city wall to exert intense pressure.


    This was the latest siege equipment designed by Xiulote. Drawing inspiration from ancient siege towers and nest carts of the Celestial Empire, while maintaining the functions of carrying and defense, the design was simplified according to the era¡¯s manufacturing capabilities. The nest cart was relatively simple, consisting of two rows of eight solid wooden wheels, a stable base, and one upright log reinforced on each side. Between the two towering logs, a platform built nearly ten meters high could accommodate six or seven archers firing simultaneously. The sides and bottom of the platform were reinforced with wooden boards to ward off arrow fire. On the rear hung a rope ladder, allowing the Samurai to climb up, replacing complex and fragile stretching mechanisms.


    At this moment, the dozen nest carts gradually approached to within sixty paces, and the archers above started firing continuously. "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh," the feathered arrows, with the advantage of height, mercilessly shot past the shields and earth embankments of the wall segment toward the backbone of the Tarasco defense. In a targeted barrage, nearly ten commanding Samurai were struck with arrows simultaneously, and deep, agonizing groans echoed continuously. The militiamen suddenly lost their repression and command, causing immediate chaos on this section of the wall.


    The thunderous beat of drums finally sounded at this moment! With a fierce howl from Jiowar, the awaiting Ottopan Warriors shouted together. Clad in Double Armor and raising their shields, with dozens of seven-to-eight-meter ladders carried in the center, they rapidly charged toward the city walls. Along with the intense beat of drums, the earth embankments, shield carts, and nest carts, more than a thousand bowmen and crossbowmen fired at the same time. The dense shower of arrows brought a piercing howl, instantly pinning the peeking Tarasco archers. Then, the ruthless arrow shower continued without pause, exerting all efforts to suppress all life on the ramparts. "Thud, thud, thud," the sound of arrows hitting wood merged into a symphony of death!


    The Ottopan Samurai rapidly moved within a hundred paces of the city walls, now engulfed in the shadow of death. Jiowar howled again as the Samurai hunched and ran, striding desperately. They crossed the increasingly perilous distance at maximum speed. The Tarasco longbowmen also fought back desperately, the "whoosh" of feathered arrows not needing to aim, simply falling directly into the mass of Samurai. Those struck by arrows immediately fell to the ground. The surviving Samurai bled profusely, struggling weakly on the ground, yet no one cared. At this moment, whether gravely wounded or dead, all met the same fate.


    Hundreds of paces away, Xiulote¡¯s expression was steely as he watched the battlefield before him. He watched as the Ottopan Samurai began to die in groups, his heart as hard as iron. For this was merely the beginning.


    When the Ottopan Samurai finally charged within forty paces, the real slaughter arrived!

 Chapter 355 - 181: Siege of the Fortress, Corpses Fall like Rain

    With the shrill sound of a conch horn, samurai and militia on every section of the wall suddenly leaned out, releasing their deadly arrows with ferocity. Drawing their modern longbows, they shot sharp copper arrows that pierced the cotton armor of the charging samurai. They fully extended their traditional single-piece wooden bows, unleashing bone arrows with jagged points, penetrating the heads and faces of any samurai who had halted.


    Jiowar, holding up his shield and looking up, saw his pupils suddenly contract as his body instinctively crouched down to raise his shield overhead. Thousands of Tarasco archers released their arrows simultaneously, and a deadly barrage showered down from the ramparts, whistling through the air. Jiowar¡¯s shield clanged repeatedly, followed by a sharp pang in his shoulder, clearly having been struck by an arrow. Several of his trusted aides tumbled to the ground like gourds, screaming as they clutched their heads and faces, struggling as they were turned into hedgehogs.


    At almost the same moment, hundreds of Tarasco militia half-rose, shouting. Raising their arms for a brief aim, they hurled javelins the length of their arms and fist-sized round rocks down towards the city walls. Blunt wooden javelins descended from above with a dull rush of wind, showing no mercy as they punctured the bodies of samurai, pinning them to the ground, while heavy rocks, picking up speed, slammed into the leather helmets of the samurai with an unstoppable force, knocking them down along with their helmets.


    Jiowar crouched on the ground, hiding his body completely behind the great shield, no longer caring to observe the battle. The harsh clanging sounds "bang bang" rang out, cries of agony from the trusted aides were ceaseless yet swiftly weakened. In that moment of siege warfare, his leather armor seemed pitifully thin. Even for the mighty samurai, death could come at any time, and to wither was but an instant.


    Not far away, Xiulote watched unblinkingly, seeing the scene even more clearly. This long-prepared volley had immediately cleared a void, nailing hundreds of Otomi warriors to their place! S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The young commander quickly waved his flag, and the piercing sound of a conch horn rose again, and over a thousand Mexica archers and crossbowmen simultaneously fired towards the city rampart. Feathered arrows and crossbow bolts, like a surging torrent, knocked over the weeds atop the battlements in an instant.


    A fierce Tarasco samurai clutched a longbow, his expression savage. Across a distance of forty paces, he shot an arrow that struck an Ottopan warrior in the cheek and immediately became a target for the archers below. The fierce samurai was about to notch another arrow when his movement abruptly halted, then he let go weakly, his copper arrow falling from his grasp.


    A bone arrow penetrated his unprotected chin with a "plop" sound, skewing through his mouth from below. The excruciating pain hit him instantly, yet the samurai did not die at once, vainly attempting to open his mouth. Then another crossbow bolt whistled in, piercing through the samurai¡¯s chest. He immediately fell to his knees, hands still desperately flailing until a freakishly precise arrow pierced his eye, embedding two inches deep. Only then did he find final relief, falling backward onto the battlements.


    A group of four or five Tarasco militiamen stood closely. Wearing cloth garments, they squeezed between the narrow gaps in the shields to shoot arrows, yelling with each enemy they struck down. More than twenty feathered arrows accompanied the yelling, mostly deflected by the shields, producing a continuous "bang bang" sound.


    Only four or five long arrows, passing through different gaps, penetrated without hesitation into fragile bodies. At close range, the long arrows held formidable power, unabated by cloth or flesh, piercing straight through and "hissing" as they skewered the militiamen together. Their blood instantly mingled, and the militiamen screamed in agony, struggling fiercely, but could never separate. They only tore their wounds wider, spilling more crimson, then solidified into a silent sculpture group.


    Other brave Tarasco militiamen raised their right arms, hurling powerful short spears. As soon as the short spear left the hand, a strong crossbow bolt struck his exposed chest cavity, and he fell silently towards the wall below. In the last moment of his life, he only saw his short spear hit the target, stabbing into an advancing Ottopan warrior. The warrior staggered a few steps and then toppled, burying his face in the mud. Soon after, the valiant militiaman crashed into the dust, just two steps apart from the spear-stricken warrior, head to head, silently perishing together.


    Xiulote, expressionless, gave a slight nod. The shooting Tarascans were hard to fully cover, and this wave of close-range arrow rain had taken away nearly a hundred of the defending army. The firepower from the ramparts stalled momentarily, and the archers once again hid their figures, their accuracy greatly reduced.


    The intense drumming never ceased, as Ottopan warriors charged forth in roars, finally reaching the base of the ramparts. A dozen warriors desperately set up a heavy wooden ladder, leaning it against the stone wall, nearly ready to scale the city.


    The Tarascans on the battlements leaned out again. Under the urgent urging of the militant samurai, militia hurled down ceramic jars of various sizes, along with heavy planks and stones. The jars shattered upon impact, scattering a white powder explosive. The Ottopan warriors underneath erupted into inhuman screams, clutching their eyes and writhing in agony on the ground¡ªthat was quicklime, commonly seen in the volcanic regions, used for years in construction and agricultural production.


    The warriors below, blinded, loosened their grip and stumbled in confusion. The ladder then tilted, crashing down and crushing two warriors beneath it. The timber and stones from the ramparts followed with a "crash," squashing some warriors into tangled heaps on the ground, which soon turned into a mix of red and gray hues.

 Chapter 356 - 181 Siege of the Fortress, Corpses Fall Like Rain Part_2

    Witnessing such a brutal scene, the nearby archers quickly adjusted and began to prioritize shooting the militia hurling clay pots. On the city walls, a Tarasco militiaman, fervently shouting the name of his god, raised a clay pot high, ready to smash it down. Then several feathered arrows "swooshed" in, striking him from top to bottom. The militiaman violently jerked backward, no longer able to lift the clay pot filled with lime, which then silently slid off.


    Behind him, several fellow villagers, pale with fright, didn¡¯t hesitate to push fiercely from behind. The fervent militiaman, along with the falling clay pot, plummeted from the six-meter-high wall, then "bang," burst upon the ground, spreading a cloud of white dust in all directions. Agonized screams then arose below, coming from several newly-blinded Ottopan Warriors.


    The militia on the walls had just breathed a sigh of relief when the whizzing feathered arrows attacked once more, nailing most of the militia to death, leaving only one to escape by fluke. The surviving militiaman, terrified out of his wits, lay motionless in a pool of blood atop the ramparts, unwilling to rise and defend the walls again. The Samurai overseeing the battle saw this breach and waved his copper spear, driving another group of militia to mount the walls. Then, without hesitation, he ordered the last militiaman, along with the bodies of his fellow villagers, to be thrown down from the walls. Soon, a final scream added to those below.


    Putting intense pressure were crossbowmen on the earthen ramparts and shield carts, while archers in the sally ports performed targeted clean-up. Quickly, several stretches of chaotic wall appeared on the left side of South City. Hundreds of Ottopan Warriors finally steadied their ladders and began to climb through these chaotic breaches. In less than a dozen breaths, dozens of Samurai had reached the top and cried out excitedly. They swung their shields to fend off the oncoming copper spears, then struck out with their war clubs, engaging in fierce combat with a large troop of Tarasco militia.


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes lit up, his face filled with anticipation. He waved his command flag, and the large, strong Temple Guards formed ranks, ready to provide reinforcement at any moment. Then, crossbowmen on the raised platforms gradually received instructions, concentrating their shots on both sides of those sections of the walls, pinning down a swath of militia.


    On the ramparts, a Tarasco militiaman was suddenly struck in the head by an arrow and fell facing upwards, dropping his Tlaxcala wooden bow to the side. Two steps away, a young militiaman named Weizti, his eyes bloodshot, reached for the bow. Then a "thump" resounded as he was struck hard on the forehead, abruptly interrupting his action.


    "You blockhead! Don¡¯t go grabbing that wooden bow; you¡¯ll be dead if you do!"


    The familiar accent of his homeland came from behind Weizti, snapping him out of his combative impulse. Crouching, the young militiaman turned around and saw the familiar old militiaman, Chiwaco. Equally crouching was the old militiaman, with a rock the size of his chest in hand. He wore a sturdy wooden shield on his head, tightly bound under his chin with henequen rope, resembling a turtle with its shell.


    "Uncle, where¡¯d you get that shield? Isn¡¯t there a helmet from the lords over there?"


    Weizti shook his slightly dizzy head, taking a closer look at Chiwaco¡¯s appearance. The last time, the old militiaman had led them to escape the battlefield, rowing for three days straight and arriving at the fortress even before the Marshal. Since then, the old militiaman had been regarded by everyone as a leader, a convincing Uncle.


    The intense sounds of combat echoed wildly, "swoosh swoosh" as arrows flew overhead. Chiwaco shivered, looking around, not seeing any of the lords. He then whispered.


    "Don¡¯t wear the helmets of the lords, nor their leather armor; the Mexica are targeting those outfits to shoot at! Go find a shield, or cover your head with a clay pot. Then join me, crouch down and push rocks off!"


    Weizti vaguely grasped the idea. He ducked down, placed an empty clay pot on his head, and then joined the old militiaman in pushing rocks off.


    Soon, supporting Samurai lords arrived with nervous expressions, carrying long spears up to the ramparts. Rushing past, they headed towards the walls by the river, loudly driving the militia they met along the way. The howling arrows from below were aimed at that part of the walls, occasionally bringing down a group of Defending Army soldiers.


    Chiwaco, his hands pressing on a rock, watched cautiously.


    He observed the grim combat nearby, where dozens of skinny Samurai continuously rushed to the top of the walls, clashing in a scramble with the supporting lords. People cried out in pain, either falling off the wall or collapsing onto it. It was as if there was a boiling cauldron of soup there, with the lords from both sides thrown in like firewood, continuously bringing the walls to a boil and causing blood to splatter like bubbling soup. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The old militiaman shivered again. He pulled out his blood-stained bag of herbs, inhaling deeply from it twice. The scent of the herbs was fading, while the stench of blood grew stronger. However, for some reason, this act calmed him.


    When the old militiaman came to his senses, he saw Weizti had gotten ahead of him, almost ready to push a large rock off the wall. Furious, he grabbed the young militiaman¡¯s trousers and pulled him to the ground.


    "Weizti, come back here! Are you dumb?! Are you really going to throw that big rock down? Look around; this is the only big rock nearby. Once you push it off, the lords will force you to shoot arrows and throw javelins... Push it back now!"


    The young militiaman hesitated. He looked around; chaos reigned everywhere, with lords hastily passing by, paying no attention to this place. Afterward, he obediently pushed the rock back and, together with the old militiaman, resumed a crouching position ready to push the stone.

 Chapter 357 - 181: Siege of the Fortress, Bodies Rain Down Part 3

    ```


    "Uncle, the Mexica are fierce today; do you think we can hold on?"


    In the midst of the brutal hand-to-hand combat on the city wall, the old militia crouched, pretending to be busy while surveying the surrounding situation. He replied offhandedly.


    "Now it¡¯s all the young masters who are new to this, with hundreds of the old masters not yet engaged, waiting below the wall. Given the circumstances today, I reckon we can hold on. But given the ferocity of the Mexica, we might not last much longer!"


    Having said this, the old militia sighed and muttered to himself.


    "Why can¡¯t the fire arrow I picked up transform into a Fire Demon? If it could, I¡¯d beg the nobility for a chance to guard the water gate, where I might have a shot at survival in a critical moment!"


    Not long after the last return, a noble lord came down and reorganized the militia. The old militia, Chiwaco, took the opportunity to present the fire arrow he had found.


    The nobility were overjoyed and took the fire arrow to study it repeatedly, taking apart the round paper casing to identify the charcoal powder inside, along with something called "Stone of the Dead." They then dried the damp powder and carefully ignited it. However, it burned like regular charcoal, producing a choking smoke and no sudden burst of flame.


    Chiwaco couldn¡¯t understand it, nor could the nobility. The promised reward was never given, and the old militia was merely promoted to a small squad leader, in charge of a dozen or so militiamen. He was then thrown into the most intense fighting at South City, becoming part of the kindling. In just over ten days, most of his militiamen had died; now, only a few obedient fellows from his hometown were left, loafing together on the city wall.


    The old militia was contemplating carefully when he heard Wei Zi¡¯s terrified call amidst the whizzing of arrows.


    "Uncle, Uncle! The Mexica are coming up!"


    Chiwaco shuddered, looking forward. Out of nowhere, another group of lean samurai advanced, lifting the wooden ladders that had fallen and heading toward this side of the city wall again. As the samurai moved, a barrage of arrows preceded their actions, whizzing over the heads of the militia where Chiwaco lay and shooting several of the men behind him dead.


    The old militia¡¯s limbs went cold, his face pale. In the dire moment, he displayed a nimbleness that was hard to imagine, scampering backward on all fours and shouting, "I¡¯m going to get some rocks; everyone, start throwing them down!"


    Wei Zi, obedient, was the first to shove a large rock down, crushing an Ottopan Warrior into the mud. The wooden ladder wobbled and then again approached the city wall.


    Other militiamen rushed forward and threw a Short Spear at the ladder; right after, a bolt took them down with a whoosh. Another militiaman quickly picked up a Wooden Bow from the ground and fired fiercely downward, killing a samurai. Moments later, a Feathered Arrow struck him accurately, passing through his throat and protruding from his neck.


    Wei Zi trembled and crawled to get more stones. The commanding samurai rushed forward to drive the militiamen to the forefront, then took up their Long Spears to hold the line. The wooden ladder was finally secured at the city head, with the copper hooks latching onto the wall. Two militiamen tried to push it over but were pinned together by an arrow like stringed gourds. Then, a dozen or so Otomi Warriors, agile as spry monkeys and with an air of chilling killing intent, began to ascend the wall.


    The warriors in front made a fierce charge, forcing the militiamen to retreat several steps. Soon after, more samurai climbed up, swinging their sharp-edged War Clubs, slicing through the fragile bodies of the militiamen. A dozen Copper Spears thrust forward, accurately blocked by the militia¡¯s shields, their years of Martial Arts training kicking in like instinct. Tarasco Warriors led a charge from behind, and the militiamen followed; Spear clashed with War Club, and bodies fell on both sides.


    A kneeling corpse suddenly moved; Chiwaco peeked his head out from behind, quickly taking in the situation. He saw the enemy¡¯s samurai forces growing and his own militiamen being killed, and a chill went through his heart. If things continued this way, even if reinforcements arrived to drive the enemy from the city wall, he wouldn¡¯t last that long!


    Chiwaco racked his brain, staying frozen for a moment before shouting to someone nearby.


    ```


    "Men, grab your Spears and crouch beside me!"


    Hearing the familiar voice, Weizti felt like he had found his anchor. He picked up a Long Spear from among the corpses on the ground, a weapon that was readily found everywhere, and joined up with five or six Militia from his village.


    "When I give the chant, you all follow my lead and stab at the legs in the center!"


    "Uncle, we can¡¯t tell our people from the enemy in the center, how are we supposed to stab?"


    The young Militia asked, bewildered.


    "Stop your blathering! It doesn¡¯t matter which side they¡¯re from. We¡¯re not going to hold out much longer anyway, just stab them all down!"


    Chiawaco, the older Militia, showed a rare ferocity on his face as he shouted angrily.


    "One, two, three, stab!"


    Six or seven Spears thrust through the tangle of legs, aiming simultaneously towards the center. Fighters from both sides immediately fell, half of them Ottopan Warriors, half Tarasco Militia. They clutched at their legs, struggling until they were trampled underfoot by the crowd, silenced in moments.


    "One, two, stab again!" S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Several more fell, and the fight briefly stalled. The Tarasco Militia began to push the vanguard of the Ottopan Warriors towards the ladder.


    "Stab! Stab again! And again!"


    Continuous cries rang out, and new Militia joined in. A dozen men crouched down, jabbing at the legs and feet that the warriors left unprotected by shields. These wounds were not fatal but were enough to rob the injured of their ability to fight.


    The Tarasco Militia continued thrusting their Long Spears, forcing the newly arrived Warriors to halt and crouch behind their shields for protection below. Finally, the supporting Tarasco Warriors surged atop the battlements, coordinating with the Militia to drive the Ottopan Warriors back down.


    "Huff, huff!"


    Old Militia Chiawaco slumped to the ground, still wearing his shield on his head. He managed a smile, about to say something to the Militia around him, but a piercing barrage of arrows struck again. In an instant, several Militia by his side were shot dead, and the Nobles on the battlements also fell, screaming in agony.


    A "thump" on the old Militia¡¯s head sent him sprawling into the pool of blood on the ground. Moments later, he reached out with blood-covered hands, feeling the Feathered Arrow stuck in his shield, and muttered to himself.


    "With days like these, there¡¯s just no way to live..."

 Chapter 358 - One Hundred and Eighty-Two: Maple Leaves and Reinforcements

    Ruthless volleys of arrows whistled above and below the city walls, like the piercing autumn wind sweeping across the battlefield. Samurai and militia on both sides fell like leaves in that wind by the tall city walls, wilting away. The wilted leaves fell into the mud, the nourishment from their bodies seeping out and staining the cobblestones and earth a deep red. Thus, the city walls became like maple trees, and the fallen leaves became maple leaves.


    The mournful beauty of the battlefield reflected in the eyes of the young commander, as well as mirroring his calm, lake-like demeanor. On the left side of the city walls, Ottopan warriors continuously scaled the ramparts only to be driven back down by the Tarasco defending army, unable to secure a breach. The surrounding militia also gradually gathered, hurling logs, boulders, javelins, and arrows as if they cost neither money nor life.


    Soon, with a piercing blare of conch shells, hundreds of Tarasco samurai reinforcements surged to the top of the walls. They formed a dense and powerful spear formation, thrusting alternately, making it impossible for the Ottopan warriors to hold their ground. The lean warriors clung desperately to their shields as they retreated down the walls in a disheveled rout, showing the beginnings of a collapse.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze sharpened as he scrutinized the supporting Tarasco samurai. They had resolute expressions, tightly gripping wooden shields and copper spears, with crocodile or turkey totems on their leather armor, exhibiting a high level of combat discipline and being extremely wary of longbows.


    "This must be the enemy¡¯s most elite reserve troops! With the continuous depletion, there are only ten thousand fort defenders remaining. If we launch a full assault now, even with additional casualties of three thousand samurai, we should be able to take the fortress in one fell swoop!"


    Xiulote hesitated in his heart. He looked around at his loyal Holy City samurai, the fanatical Temple Guards, and the stringent Spear Formation army. These were his direct pillars of support and the core strength of the Holy City lineage. The young commander then made up his mind and waved the command flag.


    "Sound the horn, retreat!"


    The fierce drumming came to an abrupt halt, and the sharp conch signal finally sounded¡ªa moment¡¯s clash as long as a century. Hearing the signal, the Ottopan warriors, who had been desperately holding on, retreated swiftly. They jumped down from the walls, raised their shields for cover, and fled towards the rear without hesitation. The severely wounded who could not move were ruthlessly left behind, along with the ladders that had been placed against the city walls. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Tarasco on the walls erupted into a cheer. Then came another volley of arrows, pinning the exposed enemy defenders, and the walls quickly became quiet again.


    It wasn¡¯t until then that Jiowar emerged from a corner below the city, retreating with the attacking trusted aides. As the Commander-in-Chief of the legion, he led the charge but did not ascend the walls himself. He simply found a corner difficult to shoot into and, under the protection of the Great Shield, directed the nearby battle situation.


    Xiulote waved the flag again. Dozens of small stone-throwing machines were moved to the front lines, and from a safe ninety paces away, they launched a round of flaming Paper Fireballs. The Fireballs traced inaccurate arcs, mostly landing inside and outside the walls, burning the buildings within. A few that landed on the ramparts burst into large flames, igniting over a dozen Great Shields and turning scores of defending soldiers into screaming torches. Thick smoke soon rose, and the gas from burning sulfur spread continuously, enveloping the top and bottom of the walls in toxic fumes.


    Seeing the launch of the Paper Fireballs, the fortress defenders breathed a sigh of relief. In this choking smoke, it was difficult for anyone to fight, and today¡¯s siege had come to an end. The supporting Tarasco samurai withdrew to the rear again, entering buildings beyond the reach of bowfire. The overseeing samurai crouched down, covering their faces and mouths with several layers of cotton cloth. Under their stern commands, the militia coughed while chopping off the wooden ladders and used sand and earth prepared on the walls to extinguish fires and smoke.


    The retreat signal sounded again. Under the cover of the thick smoke, the rearguard Ottopan warriors took away those with less serious injuries. Longbow warriors fired a final volley of Feathered Arrows, and hundreds of shield carts stationed fifty paces from the city began to slowly retreat. Then came several slow-moving nest carts, with the cart-pushers suffering heavy casualties. Finally, the Stirrup Crossbowmen gradually descended from the platforms.


    After the besieging legions had all retreated, Xiulote looked back at the city walls once more. Many of the small fires had been extinguished with earth, and the exhausted Tarasco militia lay collapsed behind the Wooden Shields and earth mounds on the ramparts.


    The Tarasco were skilled at building pyramids and equally adept at constructing fortifications. The city ramparts originally had simple battlements meant to fend off the relatively low-powered traditional Wooden Bows. Over the months, under the threat of Mexica bows and crossbows, nearly two-meter high Great Wooden Shields were erected on the walls to block arrows, many still bearing the outlines of doors and windows.


    In places where there were not enough Wooden Shields, mounds of earth over a meter high were piled up. These earth mounds served not only to protect against bows and crossbows but also to extinguish fires. After Mexica Paper Fireballs continuously ignited the Wooden Shields, the Tarasco merged the earth mounds and Shields and raised their height even further. In fact, these rudimentary but practical defensive measures could also protect against Matchlock Guns and small-caliber cannon.


    "In wars of survival, people will fully exert their initiative to build fortifications and modify equipment, adapting to the conditions of war. Especially in this era of prolonged strife that has lasted for hundreds of years."


    The young commander gazed thoughtfully at everything on the ramparts. He never underestimated the wisdom of his ancestors. People of the times simply could not see the direction of the future, but they were not without experience in production and warfare.


    In the confrontation among various powers, the advantage brought by advanced weapons can only last for a short time. Samurai will always find ways, from the lore of spiritual beliefs and practical equipment, to gradually adapt to emerging weapons. But the real advantage of a nation must be built on the innovation of systems and productivity, based on the strength of national power, and this is also the case with the confrontation with Europeans.

 Chapter 359 - 182: The Maple Leaf and Reinforcements_2

    Xiulote¡¯s thoughts scattered among the pervasive smoke. His gaze was as elusive as a deity¡¯s. When he collected himself, Jiowar was already covered in blood, kneeling respectfully before His Highness.


    "Jiowar, the Otapan Legion fought well! You have shown devotion to the Chief Divine, and also proven your loyalty to the Alliance!"


    The Young Commander showed a warm smile, stepped forward, and lifted the "Coyote" Legion Commander. He was very satisfied with the performance of the Otapan Legion; the "Coyote" had been completely tamed.


    "I am ready to die for Your Highness!" Jiowar clenched his fist over his heart and bowed his head in a salute.


    Xiulote nodded and inquired.


    "What are the casualties for the Otapan Legion?"


    A redness appeared in Jiowar¡¯s eyes, his voice hoarse and trembling.


    "A thousand injured, among them six hundred have fallen in battle."


    Xiulote fell silent for a moment, then patted the "Coyote" forcefully on the shoulder.


    The Otapan Legion was but three thousand Samurai. Previously, four to five hundred had already perished. Today, as the vanguard in the siege, under the pressure of the army¡¯s supervision, another six hundred had died, leaving less than two thousand. Facing such a crippling blow, the Otapan Legion could only turn to recuperation, unfit for use in the short term.


    "Jiowar, the siege by the Otapan Legion was arduous, go and rest well now. I will have the High Priest of the Chief Divine hold a grand funeral for the legion!... Today¡¯s battle, under the suppression of crossbows, the enemy¡¯s casualties should be twice ours. The day the city falls is not far off, the Alliance will not forget your merits!"


    Afterward, the Young Commander lowered his voice and whispered into Jiowar¡¯s ear. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I will not forget your loyalty either!"


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s acknowledgment, Jiowar was moved; the Otapan Legion had finally proven themselves with their sacrifice. He abruptly knelt down, once again performing a solemn salute.


    This time, Xiulote nodded slightly, without further comment. He stood solemnly, accepting the "Coyote" Legion Commander¡¯s homage.


    The November autumn wind freely swept through, constantly plucking fresh maple leaves from the fortress walls. The brutal siege came to a halt, but the attrition of feigned attacks continued daily. The warriors from the western City-States became the new troops for the feigned attacks.


    The Mexica crossbowmen became more frugal with their arrows. They drew ever closer to the battlements, taking precise shots, daily claiming the lives of dozens of defenders. With the bloodletting gradually worsening, the morale of the riverside fort¡¯s defending army grew more and more weary, plummeting to rock bottom. Enduring became an ordeal, with no hope in sight. The "Crocodile" Marshal¡¯s banner still flew over the battlements, but many different emotions were rising in the hearts of the city¡¯s defenders.


    In the blink of an eye, another two weeks passed, and November was already more than half over. The clear, dry season arrived. At last, Mexica¡¯s fleet appeared again on the Lerma River, bringing the last batch of support from the Alliance.


    Xiulote returned to the North Coast port, displaying the ceremonial guard, to welcome the arriving reinforcements.


    This time, the naval forces¡¯ journey was rather long, taking more than a month. Annatri first went to the Lake Capital City, carrying a large supply of food, conveying the news of the great victory. Then, she sailed north along the Tampen River to the outskirts of Xilotepec City, dropping off some food and picking up the promised reinforcements. Lastly, she led the reinforcements down south, turning from the western City-States into the Lerma River, traveling westward to this place.


    Annatri, holding a Long Spear, once again leapt down from the gorgeous large boat. She looked much thinner, but her eyes were filled with vitality.


    "Your Highness, two thousand warriors from the western City-States, three thousand from Xilotepec, four thousand Chichimeca Canine Descendants, and enough food for two months for twenty thousand people, all have arrived on schedule!"


    Xiulote was momentarily stunned, a look of joy spreading across his face. After more than half a year, the reinforcements from Xilotepec City had finally arrived! To his surprise, there were also two thousand warriors from the western City-States. The Young Commander pondered for a moment, then realized.


    "After the news of the great victory in the naval battle spread, the situation for the Northern Route Army greatly improved, and the various City-States finally started to add frosting to the cake, increasing their investments!"


    With this thought, Xiulote laughed aloud. He glanced at the new flags on the large boats, and laughed heartily.


    "Very well, Chief Divine¡¯s blessing, ¡¯Head of Lerma River¡¯, my Great General of the Naval Forces! Annatri, you have worked hard on your journey; now go and rest!"


    The female samurai bowed respectfully and then, without any reluctance, walked away with her head held high. She was headed to the northern wooden fort to check on the Head Warrior¡¯s injuries and martial arts skills.


    The reinforcements continued to come ashore. Led by the Great Nobility, two thousand warriors from the western City-States made a noisy entrance as they disembarked first. These City-State Warriors were the private armies of the Great Nobility¡ªwell-equipped and with decent morale, but their command left much to be desired, and they were not suitable for battles with massive casualties.


    Xiulote had already assessed these legions from the City-State. At this moment, with a sincere ritualistic smile, he chatted briefly with the leaders of the Great Nobility, exchanging greetings about each other¡¯s glorious ancestors and mentioning the friendly relations that had spanned generations. Afterward, the nobles proceeded to the northern wooden fort to attend the welcome banquet hosted by the Deputy Marshal.


    Then, three thousand Xilotepec samurai disembarked in silence, with strict formation. Seeing this legion, Xiulote was momentarily stunned. He observed carefully; the once-familiar Otomi Warriors, now acting with concise order, with somber and calm faces emanating a chilling killing aura, quite looked like an elite military force.


    Soon, on the riverbank¡¯s sandy headland, squad leaders from the legion and accompanying Priests began to line up. The Legion Commander and Vice Legion Commander then approached together to greet His Highness.


    "Poet" Commander-in-Chief Balamo wore a melancholic smile as he looked toward His Highness, whom he hadn¡¯t seen for quite some time. He bowed deeply, expressing his sincere admiration.


    "Radiant Highness, you are like the midday sun, providing me with scorching warmth. Your increasingly authoritative demeanor, like the proud Divine Eagle lifting its head, drenches my soul with its black eyes. I prostrate under your wings, praising your triumphant soaring victory!"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and confirmed that the "Poet" was genuinely praising him. He then stepped forward and affectionately patted Balamo¡¯s shoulder.


    "The newly ennobled Balamo, long time no see! You are like the sacred cocoa, spreading your graceful branches, becoming increasingly expansive, a delight to behold."


    The "Poet¡¯s" slightly plump face paused. Having spent several months idle at the northern stronghold, indulging daily in fine wine and women and dealing with local Nobility, he had unknowingly lost the lean, distinct lines of his once handsome visage, becoming rounder and much broader in figure.


    Balamo looked at His Highness¡¯s seemingly smiling expression, thought for a moment, and then suddenly understood. He immediately kneeled down respectfully and offered deep obeisance.


    "Your Highness, your loyal Commander-in-Chief Balamo has returned to your command, ready to serve you unto death!"


    Xiulote looked calmly for a while. Balamo¡¯s demeanor was solemn as he knelt unmoving on the ground. A moment later, the Young Commander laughed heartily, tousled the "Poet¡¯s" hair, and then helped him to his feet by the hands.


    "Well done, Balamo, my ¡¯Desolate Highland¡¯, welcome back! Who is the Legion Commander of the Otomi Legion of Xilotepec?"


    Balamo cautiously glanced at His Highness¡¯s expression before replying with a smile.


    "The Divine Blessing Legion is led by Natali as the Legion Commander, with me as the Vice Legion Commander! Natali was among the first Otomi Warriors to surrender and was one of the Xilotepec prisoners exchanged during your first negotiation. He was the first to pledge allegiance to the Chief Divine and is the most devout warrior leader, having made great contributions in the northern campaign against the Chichimeca Canine Descendants!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote nodded. He looked at the young Legion Commander Natali with a smile.


    "The Chief Divine is supreme, omnipotent! He blesses us and watches over our sacred conquest to the west. Legion Commander Natali, under the Chief Divine¡¯s blessing, victory in the west is assured! As long as you fight for the divine, you will gain new honors and establish a glorious family!"


    Natali¡¯s face was austere, like a hard sculpture. Upon hearing His Highness¡¯s words, a genuine faint smile surfaced on his face. Then, grasping the Sun Amulet on his neck, he replied with devotion.


    "Praise to the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! He has saved us, and we shall fight for Him, spreading His glory! The Divine Blessing Legion will throw itself into the great divine battle, offering up our lives to the Divine unto death. His faith shall spread across the land!"


    After what almost seemed like a chant, Natali then kneeled on one knee and bowed solemnly to His Highness.


    "Sacred ¡¯Divine Revelator¡¯, High Priest of Teotihuacan, Priest Xiulote, I, Natali, on behalf of the Divine Blessing Legion, offer our reverent regards to you! We bask in the light of the Divine Blessing and shall fight for You!"


    Watching the unmistakably sincere demeanor of Natali and listening to his heartfelt praise, the young Priest was momentarily dumbfounded, his heart thundering, before he quickly regained composure.


    "Praise to the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! I pray to the most high, honoring the souls of the converts, this is the loyalty observed by the Chief Divine!"

 Chapter 360 - 183 Prelude

    Warm sunlight cascaded down, shining upon the Divine Blessing Legion by the river¡¯s edge, also illuminating their somber faces. Gold, silver, wooden, bone, and stone sun amulets twinkled around the Samurai¡¯s necks, as if the Sun God¡¯s protection was always with them.


    Xiulote and Natali prayed together for a few moments, then allowed each other to lead the Samurai away to rest. The youthful Priest closely observed the passing Divine Blessing Legion, nodding slowly but firmly.


    The final batch of reinforcements to land at the river was the disorderly Chichimeca Canine Descendants. Dozens of chieftains from the Canine Descendants Tribes shouted loudly, calling warriors of varying numbers to gather into groups of different sizes. Then, under the guidance of General Osellor¡¯s Envoy, the chieftains approached in disarray, paying their respects one by one to His Highness.


    Xiulote bore a commanding presence as he received the loyalty of the Canine Descendants chieftains.


    Most of the Canine Descendants chieftains wore only simple robes, their faces weather-beaten, marked by the wear of wind and sun, their skin burnt to a reddish-brown hue, painted with tattoos of various reverent designs. They first introduced their tribe¡¯s name and their own heroic deeds with proud chests and raised heads, striving to reveal their fearless and wild bravery. Then, at His Highness¡¯s inquiry, they respectfully lowered their heads and replied with broken Mexica words, fearfully observing the thousands of elite warriors. Occasionally, their eyes briefly betrayed their greed, yearning for sturdy leather and cotton armors, powerful longbows and war clubs, as well as shining gold and silver ornaments.


    The young Commander watched calmly, without emotion. These Canine Descendants chieftains displayed complex traits: reverent of the Alliance¡¯s military force yet compelled by the need for livelihood, forced to join the vast Mexica army. But deep within the Canine Descendants¡¯ bones lurked a greed for power and wealth, along with a disregard for life and order. In short, the Canine Descendants were fierce and untamed, fearing authority but devoid of gratitude.


    After musing for a moment, Xiulote gave a resolute wave of his hand. Thousands of Personal Guard Warriors then came forth swinging their war clubs, forcing all the Canine Warriors to kneel. The chieftains¡¯ mouths were filled with disordered shouts, but they knelt without hesitation. Immediately after, several Priests stepped forward, setting up a makeshift altar, lighting a ghastly blue flame that emitted unpredictable divine smoke.


    Mysterious chanting filled the air as the Priests began a frenzied dance. The trusted aides cut off the chieftains¡¯ hair and then cast it into the blazing Sacred Fire. Amongst the swirling smoke, the youthful Priest danced last, singing an ancient and strange language, before loudly proclaiming.


    "The Chief Divine controls everything, and also dictates the life and death of people! As the strands of your souls burn away, your lives are held in the palm of the Chief Divine. Those who defy the orders will suffer Divine Punishment, painfully burning away, becoming but a fleeting blue smoke in the wind!"


    The accompanying Translator shouted fiercely, spreading the young Priest¡¯s decree. The chieftains¡¯ faces filled with horror as they watched the strange, unknown flame, listening to the foreign Divine Priest¡¯s curse, feeling a heavy shadow rise in their hearts. After a moment, the chieftains erupted with submissive cries, laying down their trembling bodies in prostration. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Great Sorcerer of the Sun God!"


    Hearing the Translator¡¯s words, Xiulote nodded. He gestured again, having the Priests prepare the sacred Mushroom Water with the psilocybin mushrooms they carried. He then emotionlessly ordered the chieftains to drink it.


    Facing the color-changing concoction, the Canine Descendants chieftains shivered. They looked torn as they slowly drank it down, filled with fear and under the duress of the Mexica warriors.


    In mere moments, the chieftains began to tremble in their hands and feet, unable to control their dancing. They roared, calling out unknown names, their faces a mix of tears and laughter, as the world before them turned uncanny and bizarre, as if under the scrutiny of spirits¡¯ gaze, bringing an irresistible force! Watching this chaotic scene, the Mexica Priests were indifferent, while the Canine Warriors felt a chill in their hearts.


    The frenzied dance continued for a full half-hour. Completely exhausted, the chieftains finally collapsed, their eyes glazed over, minds blank.


    Xiulote then once more loudly declared.


    "The Chief Divine controls everything, and also dictates the life and death of people! When the holy water flows into your innards, your lives are held in the palm of the Chief Divine. Those who disobey the orders will suffer Divine Punishment, rotting away, their souls eternally devoured by darkness!"


    Hearing the Translator¡¯s words, the Canine Warriors screamed in fear, completely prostrating themselves on the ground.


    "Great Sorcerer of the God of Death!"


    Xiulote surveyed the Canine Descendants once more, observing their expressions. The hidden defiance had finally vanished, replaced by a genuine fear. The young Priest nodded; the rituals¡¯ intimidating effects would not last long, but they were enough to last until the end of the siege. Only through the dual control of mind and body could these Canine Descendants withstand the cruel casualties and persist longer in battle.


    Finally, Xiulote waved for the Canine Warriors to take their weak chieftains to the Wooden Fort for rest. Then, he turned around and looked towards the Rivermouth fortress to the southwest. The siege was ongoing there, but the outcome was nearing.


    Two days later, nine thousand reinforcements boarded the Naval Forces¡¯ fleet once again, heading for the large camp outside the fortress. The majestic reinforcements proceeded through, drawing the watchful eyes from the city walls. Under the "Crocodile" banner, Osellor, independent in the Watchtower and wearing the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s uniform, looked much older. He silently watched the enemy¡¯s reinforcements merging into the siege encampment, murmuring a faint, somber laugh.

 Chapter 361 - 183 Prelude_2

    "Good, very good! This scenic beauty, with the river surging by, is the perfect place for ¡¯Crocodile¡¯ to enter the Divine Kingdom! The glory of a hundred years shall end here. All the honored nobility, the brave warriors, will exhaust their lives together, allowing the blood of countless Mexica to flow on this land!"


    Behind the ¡¯Crocodile¡¯ nobility, the remaining family samurai showed a readiness to die. Close nobles of all ranks exchanged glances, their minds stirring, and they remained silent.


    As the sun set, the sky and earth were soaked in vibrant red, like a divine omen. Amid the rising wisps of cooking smoke, two Otomi legions stood facing each other, equally silent.


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was complex. He looked at the comrades before him who had converted to the Chief Divine, at the familiar figures across from him, and memories of the past came flooding back. They had once fought together against the Mexica, their blood staining the forests. Later, they parted ways, with one side abandoning and betraying the other. Now, they stood together again under the flag of Mexica, shedding blood in battle before the fortress of Tarasco. The irony of these changing times was like a mocking poem.


    Natali¡¯s expression was solemn, his face like a sculpture. He maintained his composure, for nothing from the past mattered anymore. After a moment, he stepped forward and performed a greeting ritual.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! Otapan¡¯s Xiulote, I am pleased to meet you here again, to join together in this sacred war... The Chief Divine is supreme, almighty! He has saved all the perplexed Otomi, and we shall fight and die for Him!... May His faith spread throughout the world!"


    Looking at Natali¡¯s bright eyes and listening to his devout praise, Xiulote opened his mouth but for a moment struggled to speak. After a pause, his voice was husky as he responded in kind.


    "May the Chief Divine save all the perplexed Otomi, and may His faith spread throughout the world."


    "So, I salute you, companion of the divine war. Praise the Chief Divine!"


    "I salute you, Xilotepec¡¯s Natali, praise the Chief Divine."


    The conversation ended there. The two Otomi legions looked at each other for a moment before departing within the camp. Perhaps subconsciously influenced, the legions¡¯ encampments had spontaneously separated by a great distance. They no longer communicated, as if separated by a vanished world.


    When dinner began, the Chichimec¡¯s Canine Warriors erupted into chaos like caged beasts. They howled and shouted, fighting each other with bare hands, viciously scrambling for the food provided. Between tribes, food was distributed based on strength; within tribes, only the strong could eat their fill, while the weak were fated to endure hunger.


    Soon, the trusted aides arrived, but the Canine Warriors had already settled their contests and quickly distributed everything. The losers simply sat down dejected, harboring secret grudges, yet none complained to the Mexica. The aides looked at each other, then calmly withdrew, not interfering with the Canine Descendants¡¯ customs. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Just a few hundred steps away, a low sacred chant was heard. Under the leadership of several War Priests, the Divine Blessing Legion was praying before their meal. The samurais were solemn, clutching amulets around their necks and reciting earnestly.


    "Praise the War God Huitzilopochtli! He provides us with food, and we shall fight for Him!... This battle shall not end until death!"


    The orderly chants grew louder and more sonorous, echoing throughout the camp and soaring toward the blood-red remains of the sun. Hearing the familiar prayers, the Spear Legion also responded. Led by their squad Priests, they too rose solemnly, singing of the Divine¡¯s might and generosity.


    In this devout atmosphere, many Mexica warriors also bowed their heads, set aside the food in their hands, and prayed for the War God¡¯s protection and blessing, for survival and victory in the battle. At this moment, with holy songs swirling around the siege camp outside the city, it was as if the Divine Kingdom had descended.


    The ground-shaking songs drifted to the city walls not far away, where the young militia Weizti was dozing off and suddenly awoke from his dreams. He opened his eyes, weariness clear on his face, and looked around nervously, still holding a spear in his hands. Beside him, the old militia Chiwaco also opened his weary eyes and carefully observed the scene below the city walls.


    "Uncle, what are the Mexica ghost-crying about? These days, they shoot arrows by day and beat drums at night; there¡¯s no chance for a full night¡¯s sleep. Now, not even a moment of peace is afforded!"


    Seeing no signs of a Mexica attack, Weizti sighed in relief. He tugged at his turban, stuffing a corner of cotton cloth into his ears, which made him feel a bit better.


    Chiwaco listened attentively, and though Mexica and Prepetcha were quite similar, he could make out the gist of the words.


    "It seems they are singing praises to a powerful Heavenly Divine, something about Wezi Chitli... This Divine will grant them victory in war!"


    Amid the resounding prayers, the old militia shivered as he strained his ears, once again sensing danger.


    Weizti looked down at the campsite and suddenly saw thousands of near-naked, wildly howling Tribal Warriors. Observing their tattered clothing, disordered scrambling, and beast-like shouting, he burst into laughter.


    "Uncle, look quick! Who are these people? They¡¯re even more miserable than the poorest family in the village!"


    The old militiaman turned at the sound, scrutinized the "beasts" for a moment, and shook his head gravely.


    "These are barbarians who are not afraid of death."


    Weizti nodded as if understanding. Before the battle, he had never ventured more than fifty miles out of his village, so he had no impression of the Canine Descendants from the north. Then, he looked towards the core where the singing was loudest, where the newly-arrived Samurai legion was.


    "Uncle, look at these people! Everyone has something shiny around their necks."


    The old militiaman then turned to look at the chanting Divine Blessing Legion, only to shudder again after a short glance.


    "These are nobles who are not afraid of death!"


    Saying this, the old militiaman turned pale. He stared for another moment before stomping his foot resolutely.


    "No, we can¡¯t wait any longer, you blockhead! This city can¡¯t be held! I must find one of those nobles who fought to the death defending the city last time. We have to find a way to survive!"


    With those words, he tossed aside his spear and looked at the other militia members who were still looking around bewilderedly, then slipped away without hesitation towards the foot of the city wall. He had performed commendably during the last defense of the city and had been praised by several samurai nobles. He vaguely remembered where a young noble lived and, bending low, risked making his way there quietly.


    The day after the reinforcements arrived at the camp, Xiulote sent a few captured Tarasco nobles to the fortress beneath the rivermouth, to convince the defending army to surrender.


    "Those who open the gates... receive rewards!... Those who surrender with their troops... maintain their status unchanged!... Those who do not resist... prisoners can survive!..."


    Before the envoys had shouted a few sentences, several feathered arrows shot "swoosh, swoosh," piercing their heads and killing them on the spot.


    Atop the city wall, the fierce "Crocodile" nobles put down their longbows and glared sternly at the nobles and samurai to their sides.


    "The emperor¡¯s reinforcements are on their way! We can hold out for months! Anyone who dares surrender will meet the same fate!"


    The nobles murmured in agreement with the marshal¡¯s words, fire flashing in their eyes.


    Ospa looked around and pondered, then continued to speak.


    "The Mexica relish bloodshed and war and especially delight in sacrificing noble victims! Now that it¡¯s a divine war, once you fall into their hands, your fate is theirs to decide! Whether you live, how long you live... all is uncertain. In the end, the inevitable awaits: a heart removed and a life sacrificed atop the pyramid!"


    The nobles¡¯ faces rapidly changed upon hearing this, their expressions gradually revealing a trace of desolation.


    Seeing this, Ospa nodded slightly. He swung his Obsidian Dagger fiercely, cut his palm, and swore loudly.


    "I, Ospa of the ¡¯Crocodile¡¯ family, in the presence of the three divines and the ancestors, hereby swear! I vow to share life and death with the fortress at the rivermouth! If I survive this war, I shall forego my family¡¯s glorious fief and share the land and people north and south of the Lerma River with you all!"


    Upon hearing the oath of the "Crocodile" noble, the other nobles were momentarily stunned. After a while, they finally responded out loud, encouraging each other. The will to fight once again emerged on everyone¡¯s faces, regardless of its authenticity.


    Outside the city, the Mexica legion waited another day¡ª a rare day of tranquility, without thundering war drums or whistling arrows. People cherished the quiet night, making many preparations of uncertain necessity.


    On the morning of the fourth day, as the sun rose once more, tens of thousands of samurai emerged from the camp, and the formal siege began!

 Chapter 362 - One Hundred and Eighty-Four: Siege and Explosion (Part One)

    The long wind surged across a thousand miles, bringing the solemnity of deep autumn after a season of growth and decay. The sunlight shone brightly, reflecting off the war clubs of the warriors outside the city and into their murderous eyes, casting the silhouettes of the defending army. The Tarasco defending army silently gathered on the city walls, stacking up defensive equipment. Dark red blood traces congealed on the bluestone walls and seeped into the grayish-yellow soil, waiting for new blood to flow.


    The Mexica camp gates opened, and tens of thousands of warriors and militia filed out in succession, filling the fields in front of the fortress. The battlefield was filled with suppressive clamor and uncontrollable low roars.


    Xiulote, dressed in a magnificent feathered garment with a towering flag on his back, stood at the center of the great army, on a newly built high platform. He summoned "Black Wolf" Toltec, whispering a few commands. The other party, already prepared, nodded and went off to carry out the orders. Then, the young commander-in-chief called over the newly arrived commander of the Divine Blessing Legion, Natali, and issued a loud order.


    "Praise the Chief Divine, He has promised us a great victory today! Natali, in today¡¯s siege, the Canine Descendants will be the first wave in the vanguard, with the Divine Blessing Legion following as the second wave for the assault. You shall be the true main force!"


    The young legion commander¡¯s face showed devout sincerity as he solemnly nodded.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! In our sacred battle, we dedicate our lives to Him! In the fearless fight, we will turn the fortress before us into an altar for the Chief Divine! The Divine Blessing Legion is ready and awaiting your order!"


    Xiulote nodded in satisfaction. The converted Otomi Warriors were exceptionally devout and obedient, and he intended to reduce their casualties as much as possible. With this thought, he looked towards his teacher, Olosh.


    "Legion Commander Olosh, are the clay tribuli for the assault ready?"


    The formidable Jaguar warrior nodded. He had heard of the power of these new weapons but was somewhat skeptical.


    "The gunpowder craftsmen have prepared everything. There are several batches of support, and now we have over a thousand of those clay spheres."


    The young commander-in-chief expressed satisfaction. He patted Olosh on the shoulder and spoke in a deep voice.


    "Teacher, the eastern siege is in your hands! The warriors from the western city-states shall serve as the main force. Here we should contain the defending army as much as possible, but there is no need to overly pressure the leaders of the Great Nobility."


    Olosh nodded, understanding.


    "The Holy City lineage and the nobles from various city-states have a longstanding friendship. I will do my best to persuade them to launch several assaults!"


    Then, Xiulote smiled faintly and gave another order.


    "Bring all the chieftains of the Chichimec¡¯s Canine Descendants to me!"


    Soon, dozens of Canine Descendant chieftains, fear written on their faces, came before his highness. From a distance of more than a dozen steps, they all knelt down and cried out in awe.


    "Great Sorcerer, controller of souls!"


    Xiulote, expressionless, issued his command.


    "The highest Chief Divine watches over this divine war. He bestowed upon us divine weapons that condensed Divine Power into roaring spheres. Divine Power always longs for life, and it will take all living things around it! Now, go back to your tribes and select a thousand of the most fearless warriors. They will carry these weapons of mythology and hurl them into the ranks of the defending army on the city walls.


    Remember, Divine Power craves life; the spheres must be thrown accurately. If they fail to kill the enemy, the throwers will be executed as sacrifices offered up!"


    Upon hearing the translator¡¯s words, the Canine Descendant chieftains showed deep terror and a hint of hidden doubt. The heavenly divine of the Mexica would actually intervene personally to aid their war?! After a moment, the chieftains prostrated themselves to accept the command and left obediently. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote glanced toward the nearby area. Facing the great battle, the Canine Warrior¡¯s showed no fear. Clutching their stone axes and hammers, wearing plain cloth without armor, they were restless and roaring, shouting challenges at the city walls. The young commander pondered for a moment, then gave an order.


    "Give each Canine Warrior a shield, so they can make it to the bottom of the city walls!"


    His trusted aides carried out the command, and the chieftains began to select fearless warriors; everything was quickly in place.


    Xiulote surveyed the east and west; the tens of thousands in the assembled army were ready, the battlefield filled with heavy breathing and deep chanting. He looked up at the blazing sun that had climbed into the mid-sky, and under the gaze of thousands, he suddenly waved the command flag.


    The intense sound of war drums burst forth with tremendous force! The warriors let out an earth-shattering cry and, following the command flag, surged forward.


    Four hundred stirrup crossbowmen were the first to ascend the mounds, their whistling arrows suppressing the enemy on the city walls. Accompanied by several screams, the defending army crouched low, carefully taking cover behind the earthen mounds and wooden shields. Next, hundreds of shield carts carrying over a thousand longbow warriors advanced from both the eastern and western sides of the city walls, quickly closing to within ninety paces. Arrows swiftly flew from the city walls while the archers behind the shield carts retaliated, and a reciprocal rain of arrows began to obscure the sky!


    The horn sounded once more, and an assault was simultaneously launched from both sides of the city walls. On the eastern wall, which was designated for distraction, four thousand Mexica warriors from the western city-states carried their ladders with steady steps. Under the tight protection of their shields, they steadily advanced towards the city walls, seeking support from the shield carts at times.

 Chapter 363 - 184 Attack the City and Explosion Part 2

    Outside the main southern wall, the Chichimeca Canine Descendants were fiercely brave. More than a thousand Canine Descendants, merely holding wooden shields that covered half their bodies, carried towering ladders and charged towards the city wall in a loosely formed array. Within just a few dozen breaths, the Canine Descendants had rushed to within fifty steps of the city wall, entering the dense range of projectile fire from the city.


    Xiulote, without hesitation, waved the battle flag again, and the sound of the war drums suddenly accelerated. The crossbowmen let out a deep cry and unleashed a wave of fierce arrow rain. The thousands of Tarasco archers on the city ramparts also fired simultaneously, mixed with a rain of javelins and stones. Two waves of feathered arrows crossed in the air, like two fluttering wings, piercing the thin bodies on the city top and beneath.


    Piercing screams suddenly rose, even overshadowing the relentless war drums. In an instant, hundreds fell over, and thousands of blood blossoms bloomed in the wind. Then, warm liquid flowed freely, coating everything around. The feathered arrows didn¡¯t stop; the defending militia desperately shot arrows and hurled stones, and in groups, they died. The situation was even more brutal for the Canine Descendants below; the unprotected bodies were shot down in droves, showing signs of collapse instantly.


    With many falling before even reaching the enemy, the Canine Warriors began to hesitate. A portion of the warriors still charged forward, and the first ladder was being positioned against the city top. Most of the warriors started to look around indecisively, and a few turned back towards the camp to flee.


    Xiulote¡¯s expression turned cold, and he mercilessly waved the battle flag. Nearly a thousand of his trusted aides stepped forward, blocking all paths of retreat, and without hesitation, shot dead the dozens of Canine Descendants who tried to flee. Then, the second wave of thousands of Canine Descendants was driven and intimidated to continue charging towards the city top. Being the first wave of the vanguard, the Canine Descendants were doomed to a fate of death.


    Holding out for over a month, the quicklime on the city top was nearly depleted. A Tarasco warrior hurled down the last clay pot of quicklime, creating a blinding cloud of smoke below the city rampart. Several Canine Descendants immediately covered their eyes, crying out like wolves. The warrior, however, hadn¡¯t hidden yet and was targeted by an archer, falling into the swirling ash cloud.


    With the addition of the second wave of Canine Descendants, dozens of ladders were successively erected. The moment the copper hooks were secured, hundreds of Canine Descendants couldn¡¯t wait to swing their shields and stone hammers, charging up to the city top. They were met with dozens of densely packed long spears. The sharp copper spears cruelly alternated attacks, impaling them into bloody, torn rags.


    This tightly coordinated spear formation with copper spears was starkly different from the chaotic fighting on the highlands. The Canine Descendants swung their weapons in vain, melting away on the city top like snow in boiling broth, turning into red, bloody water.


    Seeing that the Canine Descendants had finally climbed the city-top and were being rapidly depleted, Xiulote slowly nodded. He waved an exceptionally bright red flag, and his vigilant warriors brought thousands of selected, fearless Canine Descendants to the front. This was just over a hundred steps from the city wall, at the edge of missile range.


    The gunpowder craftsmen were well-prepared. They lit over two hundred long-fuse clay tribuluses, then without pausing, stuffed the same number into the arms of the Canine Descendants. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Run! Run faster! Get close to the city-top, at least climb halfway up the ladder, then throw the ¡¯Divine Power¡¯ spheres into the enemy¡¯s lines at the city-top, and you can return! Remember, anyone who throws disorderly before reaching the city wall dies!"


    Several tremulous translators, intimidatingly, repeated the instructions they had given over a dozen times before. Then, the warriors fiercely waved their war clubs, and the Canine Descendants charged like a driven pack of wolves.


    More than two hundred Canine Descendants, holding burning "Divine Power" spheres, ran desperately. They crossed past rapid-firing shield carts, past bodies strewn along the way, to the city wall beneath the ladders, and finally, they climbed near halfway up the ladders!


    "Boom, boom, boom!" A dozen early-ignited clay tribuluses exploded right on the ladders, blasting the sphere-holding Canine Warriors into pieces. The violent explosions roared like the wrath of gods, causing an instant uproar both above and below the city, unknown fear seizing everyone¡¯s hearts!


    Then, the remaining Canine Descendants, remembering the "divine" command, violently hurled the heavy spheres they carried. The grey-yellow clay tribuluses traced high arcs, landing among Tarasco¡¯s spear formations. A warrior on the city top, puzzled, kicked a hissing hedgehog sphere.


    "Boom, boom, boom!" The hedgehog spheres suddenly burst open, emitting countless fine, sharp clay fragments, instantly bringing down nearby Tarasco warriors. The fragments pierced the cotton armor, tore through delicate skin, penetrated soft bodies, and made hearts cease instantly. More lethal pieces shot upwards, piercing fragile eyeballs and deeply embedding into faces, leaving dense, horrific holes.


    Within two steps of the explosion, a warrior in cotton armor fell silently, his body riddled with holes; blood gushed forth. Within four steps, the massive blast resonated inside and out, resonating in the ears of the defending army, knocking down militia and warriors alike. The crowded city top was suddenly emptied.


    "Boom, boom, boom!" Nearly two hundred spheres exploded in succession. Some hit their marks, exploding on the city wall and mercilessly bringing down both the combatant Canine Descendants and the fighting defending army. Others, thrown too forcefully, landed behind the city wall, killing two or three waiting Tarasco militia, shocking the reserves behind them. Some failed, falling below the city wall, injuring the stunned Canine Descendants who watched.

 Chapter 364 - 184 Siege and Explosion Part 3

    The explosion shook heaven and earth, resonating in the hearts of everyone on the battlefield and causing the gruesome slaughter to come to a halt! Atop the city wall, the fierce battle paused in an instant, with the defending army and the Vanguard showing fear of the unknown. Behind the shield vehicles, the archers who had been firing also slowed their hands, fearfully looking toward the city wall. From atop the tall nest cars, the Samurai could see more clearly. They watched as clouds of smoke burst forth, their faces revealing awe of the Divine Power, and reverence for the Chief Divine!


    Moments later, under the deliberate guidance of the Priests, a continuous cheer erupted from the Mexica army, charged with fanatical devotion!


    "Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli unleashes supreme Divine Power, destroying the enemies before us, granting victory to Mexica!" This was the chant of the Priests.


    "The Chief Divine descends, a victory bestowed by heaven!" This was the devout prayer and blessing of the Samurai.


    "Divinely blessed, sure to win!" This was the most fervent shout of the Divine Blessing Legion!


    The morale of the city¡¯s defenders plummeted instantly, Tarasco¡¯s Samurai unbelieving, while the faces of the Militia were filled with fear of myths. Only the survivors from Lake Yuriria managed to keep calm, prepared in their hearts for the gods behind the Mexica people, still persisting in the battle under the command of the "Crocodile" Nobility. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote watched the Clay Tribulus explode in real combat for the first time, gazing at the majestic might of the primitive Gunpowder Weapons, his heart brimming with pride for ushering in a new era. Amidst the resounding praises echoing through the clouds, he laughed loudly, waving his hand again.


    "Second batch of grenadiers, charge to your death!"


    The Gunpowder Craftsmen¡¯s expressions remained unchanged as they continued to light the dangerous Clay Tribulus, placing them into the arms of over two hundred Canine Descendants. The Canine Descendants looked at the "mythical weapons" in their hands with fear, then, not daring to pause, used all their might to charge again toward the city walls a hundred steps away.


    Atop the Watchtower, the "Crocodile" Noble Ospe¡¯s eyes bulged as he watched in shock everything happening below the walls, completely unable to accept it. The defenses he had meticulously arranged during the two-month siege almost collapsed in just a moment from the explosion. Then, amid the cheers of the Mexica people, he saw the second batch of hastily advancing Canine Descendants and frantically, urgently yelled.


    "Bodyguards, bodyguards! Shoot at the barbarians holding the spheres!"


    While yelling fiercely, the "Crocodile" Noble grabbed a Longbow and shot a Canine Descendant down. Then, several tens of his bodyguards also recovered, fearfully firing Feathered Arrows, flooding their deadly attackers on their charge route.


    Urgent drumbeats rang out, the dazed Archers fired again, a howling rain of Arrows suppressed the city¡¯s battlements, carrying away Tarasco¡¯s Longbowmen. Amidst the incessant incoming Arrows, the Canine Descendants kept falling, finally climbing up the ladders once more, launching the Clay Tribulus from their hands!


    A burst of fearful shouting erupted atop the city. Nearby Militia turned in terror, retreating chaotically. The remaining Tarasco Samurai, however, swung their Long Spears vigorously, trying to fling the dangerous "Divine Power" spheres far away.


    "Boom, boom, boom!" Amid the despairing stares of those around him, the Clay Tribulus filled with pounds of Gunpowder exploded mercilessly, once again bringing hundreds of Samurai and Militia down! Screams of agony accompanied by fearful shouts resonated beneath the skies!


    "Thunderous roars!" Just moments after the shouting, another incomparable explosion came from the riverbank. Like a mythical meteor destroying heaven and earth, it suddenly plummeted from the west of the fortress, overpowering all the human voices. Amid the thunderous explosion, the entire towering huge Stone Fort trembled with fear!

 Chapter 365 - 185 Siege and Explosion Part 4

    ```


    The autumn wind was filled with a lethal stillness, sweeping in massively, dispersing the smoke of the exploding clay tribulus, bringing with it the pungent smell of gunpowder. The roaring of the "gods" echoed in the wind for a long time, and the rich scent of blood also melded into the wind, as if from the world of the departed!


    Xiulote¡¯s face was calm as he surveyed the battlefield before him.


    In the second wave of bombardment, the Tarasco spear formation on the ramparts completely scattered, with hundreds of Samurai and Militia blasted to the ground. The Canine Descendants who had thrown the explosives were also panicked, trembling ceaselessly on the battlements. Moments later, the majority of the Militia, who had been knocked down, staggered to their feet, their ears ringing, completely devoid of the courage to fight. They fled in disorderly fear, howling chaotically, with wounds of various sizes, stumbling with terror-stricken faces toward the bottom of the fortress.


    Confronted with the fleeing enemy, the Canine Warriors did not pursue. They, too, were devastated by the proximity of the explosions, submerged in the awe of a foreign deity¡¯s might, fearing the thunderbolt beyond their era. The Canine Descendants knelt on the battlements, discarding their shields, and emitted meaningless shouts. Then, the grenadiers, dazed for a moment, suddenly came to their senses and retreated hastily, triggering a collapse among the Canine Warriors.


    The intense slaughter was abruptly interrupted, with both the Vanguard and the Defending Army retreating in fear, leaving a vast void between the combatants, creating a rare spectacle above and below the ramparts. In this sudden moment of silence, only the hurried exchange of Feathered Arrows persisted, fulfilling the mission of war, piercing the Defending Army who forgot to take cover, eliciting cries of pain and struggle!


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes were sharp, watching the battlements. He saw large numbers of Defending Army being blasted down by the noise, then scrambling in fear to escape. The Young Commander then burst into laughter, thinking to himself.


    Perhaps due to some lack of key steps, or because of inadequate purity, the explosive power of the primitive black gunpowder was always limited. The lethal range of the exploded clay tribulus was only a short two or three steps, requiring grenadiers to throw them into the crowd up close, unable to be launched with a stone-throwing machine that varied ten steps in precision. Similarly, this dangerous weapon had no stability to speak of, the burning speed of the Match Cord was hard to control, and the clay tribulus often ignited too soon or too late. Grenadiers thus became a certain kind of expendable, which is also why Xiulote chose the Canine Descendants.


    At this moment, the battlements were filled with fleeing soldiers, the Defending Army plunged into disarray and chaos. Among the consecutive explosions, the number of enemies actually killed by the clay shards was not many, but the sound and blast of the two waves of explosions were fatal to the enemy defending the city!


    Facing this advantageous opportunity, Xiulote did not hesitate to make a decisive move. He discarded the bright red command flag, suddenly swung the Sun¡¯s yellow flag, and shouted his orders.


    "The Chief Divine protects us, we must win this battle! Divine Blessing Legion, storm the walls!"


    The low sounds of the war drums picked up fiercely, beating out the steps of a charge. The sonorous gongs sounded, stirring the Samurai¡¯s intent to kill. Three thousand warriors of the Divine Blessing Legion clutched their Sun Amulets around their necks, shouting in unison.


    "Fight for the divine, die for the divine!"


    Afterward, the fanatically motivated warriors of the Divine Blessing Legion surged forward. Swinging their War Clubs, they mercilessly dispersed the scattered Canine Descendants, driving them to both sides. Then, amidst a temporary pause of arrow rain on the ramparts, the Divine Blessing Legion quickly scaled the walls, directly killing the Canine Descendants who lay in their path, and in moments, hundreds of warriors had reached the ramparts.


    Legion Commander Natali, wielding a Great Shield and War Club, did not pause, leading his trusted aides to charge at the front. By his side was his trusted friend Wemak, who had re-embraced the Chief Divine and returned to favor. The two bore a resolute intent to kill, fearlessly plunging into the large group of disarrayed troops, completely routing the retreating Militia of the city¡¯s defense. The large troop of Divine Blessing Legionnaires then followed closely, ferociously pouncing on the enemy. They almost did not use their shields, just desperately swinging their attacking weapons, continuously storming forward.


    The sounds of close combat rose again, turning the ramparts of Rivermouth Fortress into a sacred altar. The ferocious War Clubs sliced through frail bodies, slammed against strong heads, seeking to transform everything alive into Sacrifices offered to the Chief Divine!


    Natali charged forward, until after a few dozen steps, he encountered real resistance. A dozen still-standing Tarasco Samurai were holding a narrow passage, forming a Spear Formation to block the way. The dense Long Spears poked and jabbed in alternation, striking repeatedly against the young Legion Commander¡¯s shield, making it difficult for him to break through.


    Atop the Watchtower of the ramparts, the fortress¡¯s Marshal finally responded. The "Crocodile" standard, with its holes stitched by arrows, waved rapidly. Five hundred elite reserves responded loudly. These loyal and steadfast Samurai backbone, along with three thousand reservist Tarasco Militia, burst out of the fortress, charging up to the ramparts.


    With a thousand warriors of the Divine Blessing Legion now atop the ramparts, expanding to the left and right, they were gradually held at bay by Spear Formations of the regrouping enemy. Faced with this situation, a warrior of the Divine Blessing Legion, his eyes red with fury, bellowed loudly.


    "Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli above, I, Ikont of Xilotepec, offer myself to you!"


    After shouting his last name, Ikont took two rapid steps forward, raising his heavy Great Shield with his left hand, holding onto his Amulet at his neck with his right, and charged headlong into the opposing Spear Formation. With the force of his impact, the front Copper Spears pierced into the Rattan Shield, while those on the sides plunged deep into his body. Ikont¡¯s expression contorted in agony, then he left a dying smile, and thus his head drooped in death.


    A sudden, ruthless intent to kill flashed across Natali¡¯s sculpted face. In the moment the enemy Long Spears were restricted by Ikont¡¯s body, he swiftly raised his shield to charge, and then with short swings of his War Club, crushed three skulls! The Spear Formation was broken, the agile Wemak also seized the moment to enter, continuing to kill two men. The warriors behind surged forward, and the dozen or so Spear Formation defenders fell one after another. The last young Tarasco Samurai dropped his Long Spear, lying down in fear to surrender, only to meet the War Club slashing toward his neck. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ```

 Chapter 366 - 185 Siege and Explosion Part 2

    Weymak swung his war club, its sharp obsidian blade severing the neck of the fallen foe in one fell swoop! Wiping the fresh, warm red that splattered across his face, he looked around and barked at the captain.


    "Natali, the enemy reinforcements are coming up fast! The battlements are narrow; we can¡¯t deploy too many troops, and there are archers shooting up from below. We need to charge towards the passageway and get down from the battlements as quickly as possible!"


    Natali, covered in blood, plucked a feathered arrow that had lodged in his shield and nodded without expression. The two led their trusted aides once more, charging headlong towards the nearest passageway. Hundreds of Divine Blessing Legion warriors followed closely behind, and then in the narrow passageway, they clashed violently with the large detachment of supporting enemy troops!


    Under the will to fight to the death, the battle instantly reached its climax. War clubs sliced through necks, copper spears pierced bellies, and the blood of warriors on both sides sprayed as they held each other in a deadly embrace as they fell!


    Xiulote observed for a moment; the enemy¡¯s last reserves were already joining the battle. Both sides were engaged in fierce combat at the walls and the passageway, the nobility¡¯s banners also floating amidst the frontline of battle¡ªthis was the final and most brutal struggle! Through fierce assaults, the Divine Blessing Legion firmly held the battlements, but at least seven thousand warriors and militia inside the city were staunchly defending under the commander¡¯s orders, taking advantage of the terrain.


    The Young Commander waved his flag again, and several conch horn blasts sounded. Hundreds of trusted aides charged from the rear, reorganizing the archers. The warriors, now under command, abandoned their shield carts and scaled the battlements. They had to exchange fire with the enemy archers below on the narrow walls!


    Then, Xiulote¡¯s gaze turned to the west, where the success of reducing casualties in the siege lay with the surprise attack at the water gate!


    At that moment, atop the west wall of the Rivermouth fortress, the old militiaman Chiwaco lay on the battlement, eyes wide and speechless as he watched the still-burning water gate and the great boats that were gradually approaching. Outside the water gate, on the rivermouth, hundreds of Mexica large boats were forming a tight formation, swiftly approaching while ceaselessly launching arrows at the battlements. The whistling rain of arrows assaulted the heavens, and the archers on the battlements retaliated sporadically, the prepared rolling stones and logs yet unused.


    The Mexica Naval Forces¡¯ attack had started simultaneously with the general offensive on South City. Chiwaco looked at the hundreds of approaching boats and initially wasn¡¯t perturbed. With more than a decade of rough-and-tumble experience, he knew that taking down the walls with archery alone was impossible. Moreover, the water gate to the west was solid and heavily guarded, a point of focus on the wall¡ªif hundreds of boats dared to approach for destruction, they would experience the true force of rolling stones and logs!


    The old militiaman remained fixated on the direction of South City, guessing at how the battle was unfolding. He had earned accolades for his defense of the city and had also contributed fire arrows. By beseeching the young nobility, he had finally gotten his wish to be transferred to the west wall as a Militia Captain. The nobility had soothed him with a few words, accepted him as a retainer, and left him with an underlying task that aligned with his desires.


    Over the past couple of days, he arranged for militia he trusted to be stationed on this section of the wall, occasionally giving them hints and particularly informing five or six militiamen from his village. When the moment of truth arrived, the nobility were unreliable. The only ones dependable were his fellow villagers and comrades who had shared life and death experiences with him!


    The attack outside the water gate began much as he had anticipated. Both sides exchanged arrows, and the militia men huddled safely behind dirt mounds and wooden shields, with few casualties. Then, on a large boat, a young samurai leader suddenly gestured with his hand. Several warriors abruptly rowed a small boat at full speed toward the water gate, quickly reaching within thirty paces. On the boat was a huge wooden coffin with what seemed to be sealed copper nails, except for a small hole at the edge through which a slender rope was threaded. Amid sparse arrows from the battlement, the small boat swiftly approached the solid water gate and pressed against it. The warriors on board, holding up their shields, quickly took out the prepared kindle and lit the rope in the middle. Then, amidst the stones thrown from the wall, the warriors hesitated not a speck and jumped into the river, swimming away as fast as they could, as though fleeing something.


    Seeing this eerily familiar scene, a jolt went through the old militiaman¡¯s heart. Instinctively, he glanced first toward the Mexica fleet¡ªnearly a hundred paces away, the samurai were covering their ears, crouching on the boats. He then looked around; nearby archers were poking out to shoot at the fleeing warriors. In that critical moment, a shiver went through the old militiaman, and he just managed to yell out loud.


    "Block your ears and lie flat on the battlement! Hold on tight!"


    Following suit, the old militiaman was the first to lie on the battlement, stuffing his ears with a headscarf, and holding firmly onto the sturdy parapet with his hands. The comrades who had shared life and death with him similarly reacted, lying flat on the ground. Other militiamen looked around bewildered, still glancing about.


    But within a dozen breaths, a sound unmatched in its explosiveness suddenly rose! Like a meteor crashing down, it struck upon the ramparts, bringing a roar that engulfed everything with its thunderous blast!


    In the tremors that shook heaven and earth, the battlements shuddered slightly, and rolling stones and logs swayed, while the earthen ramparts also began to crumble. The sound wave arrived with a sharp piercing whistle that shattered the air. Dozens of Militia who were shooting arrows suddenly went deaf, lost their balance, and then, swaying, tumbled from the ramparts, falling into the churning river below, silenced forever.


    Over a hundred Militia on the ramparts struggled to keep their footing, and like tumbling gourds, fell to the ground. Those lucky enough were blocked by the earthen ramparts and narrowly escaped death. Those less fortunate rolled directly off the city wall, plummeting six meters into the Inner City, then leaving behind a pitiful scream and a spreading pool of blood. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The "Heavenly Divine"-like roar echoed far and wide, audible throughout the entire fortress. Amidst the booming sound, all Commanders and Nobility looked to the west in fear, not knowing what had happened. On the West City wall, the Samurai overseeing the battle also looked panic-stricken, unable to recover from the trembling for a long time, not to mention the Militia who had lost their minds, rolling and howling in panic.


    The young "Black Wolf" Toltec watched the scene before him in shock. Although the prince had cautioned him repeatedly, and he had seen the explosion of several dozen pounds of Gunpowder, everything before his eyes still made his heart tremble!


    In the massive explosion, a thick wooden coffin filled with hundreds of pounds of Gunpowder, like a toy of the Heavenly Divine, suddenly burst into fragments scattered across the sky. The forceful blast rolled violently, with several dozen pounds of the solid wood lid breaking into pieces, flying six meters high, knocking down several Defending Army soldiers on the ramparts. Even more splintered wood penetrated deeply into the floodgate; the sturdy wooden floodgate was completely shattered, displaying countless broken traces. Following that, great flames erupted, burning on both the remains of small boats and the floodgate. Soon, billowing smoke rose into the air as if the God of Death swallowed everything in a dark cloud, completely obscuring the view.


    Silence fell both atop the ramparts and outside the city; all Feathered Arrows ceased to fly, with only the sound of flames burning to be heard. Then, pitiful wails started rising from the ramparts, and the piercing cries for help also came from nearby, awakening the stunned "Black Wolf."


    Toltec¡¯s brow furrowed as he looked around. Despite the distance of over a hundred paces, there were still many Longbow Militia who, in their daze, fell into the water and were now struggling and calling for help. In front of him, several brave men who had jumped off the small boats and were trying to swim back had been completely stunned by the blast and bobbed up and down on the water¡¯s surface, their fate unknown.


    Fortunately, the fifteen hundred Temple Guards accompanying him remained unfazed. They had been forewarned of the Chief Divine¡¯s great power, and after a moment of shock, they rose again with fanatic faces, cheering and shouting.


    "Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli descends here! Chief Divine descends here! Divine Blessing, assured victory!"


    The continuous chants intimidated those atop the ramparts and boosted the morale of the soldiers. After that, with a grand gesture from Toltec, several large boats carrying ferocious Samurai and large clay jugs filled with water charged toward the front. The Samurai, wearing paper armor soaked in water, heads covered with wet cotton helmets, and wielding Copper Spears and Stone Hammers, fearlessly rushed towards the burning floodgate.


    In the midst of thunderous cheers, an old Militia¡¯s spirit was shattered. He took a deep breath of the herbal pouch, watching helplessly as the enemy¡¯s large boats approached.


    The moment the boats neared the floodgate, the Mexica Samurai used their strength to topple the water-filled clay jugs onto the burning floodgate. Then, as the flames subsided slightly, the Samurai swung their Copper Spears and Stone Hammers, completely shattering the remnants of the wooden gate. The West City¡¯s floodgate was thus breached, and nothing stood in front of the Samurai!


    The old Militia¡¯s eyes widened in despair. He saw the enemy¡¯s large boats rush into the floodgate and looked at the surging fleet coming after. His body, which had just stood up, collapsed once again, releasing a relieving sigh atop the ramparts.


    "This monstrous fortress, at last, has fallen!"

 Chapter 367 - 186: The Fall of the City and the Escape

    The burning smoke drifted away from the water gate, carrying the distinct volcanic odor of sulfur, as if it connected to the Netherworld below. The slanted evening sun poured its brilliance from above the city walls, casting a splendid and warm golden glow that seemed to link to the Divine Kingdom in the heavens.


    In this moment, the sturdy water gate suddenly collapsed, and the Mexica army surged forth like a god-given blessing, breaching the weakened West City in one fell swoop! All the Defending Army within the fortress then faced an inevitable grave choice: Would they fight to the bitter end and head to the Netherworld below, or would they surrender and make a sacrificial journey to the Divine Kingdom above?


    The old Militia, Chiwaco, lay atop the city wall, hesitating for a long time between the Netherworld and the Divine Kingdom. Moments later, he finally mustered the courage to choose neither, striving to live on amongst the living! He pulled out his pouch of herbs that now only smelt of blood, took two deep breaths, and looked back at the combat raging within the city.


    The Mexica¡¯s naval fleet rowed fiercely, moving as swiftly as the wind. Dozens of large boats passed through the water gate, along the narrow channel, and arrived at a spacious, deep mooring pool. Here, numerous unattended Tarasco small boats were tied haphazardly by the poolside.


    Since the water gate of the Rivermouth fortress was sealed off, the remaining Tarasco Naval Forces had attempted several times to break free, escaping in many small boats. However, their organization was almost no more. Consequently, the remaining small boats were poorly managed and had caught the eye of certain Nobility.


    The invading large boats made no pause, bracing against Feathered Arrows that began to react from the city walls above, like ferocious Crocodiles pouncing into the water pool, and then charging directly onto the pool¡¯s edge!


    Next, the ferocious veteran, Etalik, took the lead, leaping from the bow of the ship. He skilfully wielded his War Club and swiftly killed several obstructing enemy Militia from unexpected angles. After a brief check, he led his trusted aide towards the nearest platform, slaying the guarding Militia.


    Having reached the platform, the Commander of the Temple Guards took another moment to survey his surroundings, then took out the infamous "Aztec Death Whistle" and blew it hard, emitting a horrifyingly piercing whistle!


    That shrill whistle was so terrifying, like the wail of a night specter, or the summoning of death, piercing the eardrums of everyone nearby. Amidst the unsettling whistle, the Tarasco Militia shuddered all at once, overwhelmed by a tremendous fear!


    The Death Whistle, resembling a miniaturized skull, was a special instrument of the Mexica Temple Guards, traditionally used in both Sacrificial Rites and war. It could emit extremely high-frequency sound waves, deterring enemies within dozens of meters.


    The Temple Guards who landed one after another were well-trained and unaffected. They, fully armed, leaped from their large boats, swiftly dispatching surrounding panicked Militia. Then, lifting their Great Shields, they gathered in groups of hundreds, all while looking towards the Commander atop the platform.


    The veteran Etalik gave a fierce smile and nodded slightly.


    He raised his War Club, first pointing towards the city walls on both left and right sides of West City, then turned inward towards the Marshal¡¯s great banner on the tower within South City. The Temple Guards quickly divided into three groups and charged without hesitation towards the three directions. Reinforcements who came through the water gate landed continuously, following in the footsteps of the Vanguards.


    Soon, a total of one thousand five hundred Temple Guards leapt from the large boats, shouting the names of deities as they charged in different directions. These devout and ferocious warriors assaulted the alleyways within the city, scaling the corridors on the city walls. With powerful swings of their War Clubs, they slaughtered each and every Militia that stood in their way. At the moment when the city¡¯s reserve troops were exhausted, this was an unstoppable Force!


    Following the Temple Guards, "Black Wolf" Toltec, exuberant, stood bow in hand at the ship¡¯s bow. He led over a thousand Longbow Militia as the second wave to rush into the city.


    Upon entering the city, the young skilled Samurai glanced around with piercing eyes and raised an eyebrow. He saw hundreds of Tarasco warriors hastening to support from within the city, followed by several hundred Militia.


    These warriors, mostly in plain dress embroidered with the family crest of turkeys, looked uneasy yet resolute. At the command of the "Turkey" Nobility, Kukuna, they suddenly shouted out, praising the name of the Goddess Haratana, before clashing fiercely with the Temple Guards that had broken into the city.


    The "Turkey" Nobility, Kukuna, his face filled with worry, looked troubled at the battle unfolding before him. The South City walls had fallen, fierce combat raged on the corridors above, barely holding on. The Marshal was trapped in a Watchtower within the city, futilely directing the ever-dwindling troops. And now, with the sudden collapse of the water gate on the west side, they had no choice but to commit to a fight with their remaining warrior Militia, a fight to the death.


    "The water gate is lost, the situation increasingly dire! Those hidden getaway boats are now beyond reach. Perhaps, it¡¯s time to consider surrendering to the Mexica!"


    Kukuna, dressed in splendor, stepped onto an adjacent platform, once again examining the combat in the alley below. The enemy Temple Guards were fervent, extraordinarily formidable. The reinforcements, warriors and Militia could only Formations in defense. On the frontline of combat, War Clubs struck against Cotton Armor, Long Spears jabbed at shields, stalemating the situation for the time being. However, it was gradually tilting in favor of the Mexica. Then, he stood erect, gazing at the situation at the water gate where the enemy was, his eyes suddenly narrowing.


    "Whiz!" A Feathered Arrow split the air, its whistling sound slicing through, followed by a loud roar. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hit!"


    "Thump," Kukuna¡¯s face suddenly stiffened, then was taken over by extreme pain. He struggled to open his mouth, but could only emit a "heh heh" wheeze, spewing out countless flecks of blood. Then, the "Turkey" Nobility stretched out his hand, shaking as he touched the Arrow embedded in his throat, desperately trying to hold back the gushing blood, but all was in vain!

 Chapter 368 - 186: The Fall of the City and the Escape_2

    Kukuna struggled for a few breaths before he slumped askew and lay still, motionless. Seeing the Family Head fall, the battling family Samurai froze for a moment before they thunderously dispersed. The Samurai fled in panic, leaving behind hundreds of kneeling Militia who surrendered.


    Seeing his target hit, "Black Wolf" Toltec nodded in satisfaction. Then, he turned around and looked back at the city walls. Hundreds of Temple Guards surged up from the passageways on both sides, clashing with over a thousand Tarasco Militia atop the walls. Among these Militia were dozens of Samurai leaders, who were loudly calling out, organizing a resistant Spear Formation.


    Toltec lifted his bow again, and with the Longbow Militia beside him, they all shot towards the city walls. "Swish, swish, swish," three rounds of Feathered Arrows swiftly flew, killing more than twenty Samurai and hundreds of Militia. Under the onslaught of the rear Archers, the city walls fell into complete chaos; the Tarasco Defending Army was on the brink of collapse, likely to break completely very soon.


    "Black Wolf" looked on proudly for a moment before casually releasing another arrow, killing a peeking Militia. Then, without any delay, he led his hundred Archers, all trusted aides, toward the enemy Marshal¡¯s flag, for that was the center of glory!


    The old Militia Chiwaco crouched on the city walls, peering carefully through the gaps between corpses. Beside him lay a Militia subordinate who had just been killed by an arrow. Seeing the young Samurai leader leading the Archers away, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and once again gathered the six fellows hiding on the wall top.


    Weizti looked around anxiously and spoke.


    "Uncle, the Mexica on both sides are about to storm up! Only a few nobles are left on the city walls, and the Militia won¡¯t last long. Everyone¡¯s going to be chopped into pumpkin slices!"


    The old Militia spat and angrily whispered as he pulled a bundle of ropes from the earthen ramparts of the city.


    "You bunch of tumbleweeds, the nobles have all gone to meet their deaths, now I¡¯m in charge here! Quick, come help, tie this thick rope firmly to the city wall, then let it down. The Mexica boat patrols on the lake have all rushed into the city. Now¡¯s our chance to escape!"


    Hope sparked on their desperate faces, and they all bowed their heads to work busily. They had just secured the rope and lowered it from the city when a deep voice challenged them.


    "You bunch of windy weeds, you sure are nimble!"


    Chiwaco¡¯s heart tightened, and he looked up at the sound. Then, he squeezed out a chrysanthemum-like smile on his old face.


    "Nobility lord, you¡¯re here!"


    In front of the Militia on the city walls, a young Nobleman with a stern face and disheveled hair stood. He wore luxurious War Clothes, covered in blood, and urgently whispered.


    "Old man, where¡¯s the boat I asked you to hide?! The fortress is about to fall, quickly get me out of the city and to the Capital City to report!"


    The old Militia glanced at the young noble¡¯s War Club, then at his War Clothes, and nodded hastily.


    "Lord, the boat is hidden in the Luwei marsh by the lake, unnoticed by the Mexica. You can descend from the city walls using this rope. There are no large boats patrolling on the lake now, we will escort you out immediately!"


    The young noble nodded slightly. He took several steps to the side and loudly ordered the Samurai and Militia, who were amidst the chaos, to quickly go to the passageway to resist. Then, he swiftly returned, grabbed the rope, and was the first to slide down from the city wall, escaping the fortress doomed to fall. Next, the old Militia slid down, and the sounds of fighting inside the city suddenly became distant. Weizti was the third to slide down, and the cruel bloodshed and combat seemed as if they belonged to another world.


    In this unnoticeable corner, several Militia quickly slid down, and in front of them was the lake shore covered with Luwei. The old Militia looked back and quietly asked.


    "Lord, is there anyone else behind?"


    The young noble showed a look of sorrow and anger, gritting his teeth as he spoke.


    "My father has fallen in battle! The noble ¡¯Turkey¡¯ family has perished with its glory, now only I remain. Old man, hurry! Let¡¯s set off for the great Copper Capital!"


    Hearing that a young nobleman was alone and that going to the Copper Capital was required, the old militiaman¡¯s drooping face subtly transformed. By the time he raised his head, it was filled with a respectful and compliant smile.


    "Alright, my lord, the boat is in that direction!"


    The young nobleman did not pause, taking two militiamen and quickly moving forward. Behind him, Weizti asked softly.


    "Old uncle, what about this rope?"


    The old militiaman looked up, seeing a defending militia who had just discovered this path, falling down from above. He hesitated for a moment but still sighed and said.


    "Leave it! The more who can escape the better."


    Then, the old militiaman slightly bowed his head and quickly said.


    "Stupid log, be careful on the road and watch that noble lord." S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After speaking, without waiting for Weizti to react, the old militiaman turned around and followed in the direction of the young nobleman.


    Amid the growing distant shouts, a group of eight people swiftly arrived at the lake¡¯s edge. The old militiaman pulled out an old canoe from a hollowed-out dirt hole. Everyone then boarded together and paddled hard into the vast Cuitzeo Lake, intending to flee to the south.


    Outside the water gate, two cruising Mexica boats suddenly stopped, their militia looking over the lake for a moment before quickly paddling toward this side. The Tarasco militiamen were tense, rapidly moving their paddles. Unfortunately, the young nobility on board, not knowing how to paddle, simply occupied space and was of no help.


    They had not paddled many steps when the two Mexica boats rapidly caught up, approaching within fifty steps. The faces on both sides¡¯ boats were clearly visible, and the Mexica militiamen suddenly burst into a joyful shout. The old militiaman listened intently, only faintly hearing phrases like "Nobility" and "bounty."


    Hearing this, the old militiaman¡¯s expression changed, his demeanor flickering. He raised his head, looked at the nobleman clumsily paddling on the boat, and then subtly signaled to Weizti. The young militia, somewhat understanding, slowed his paddling, his eyes filled with confusion.


    "Weeds, paddle faster! The ¡¯Turkey¡¯ family¡¯s legacy must not end here!"


    Facing the enemy¡¯s nearing pursuit, the young nobleman¡¯s face turned fierce, and he harshly knocked on Weizti¡¯s head. Weizti then bowed in pain, causing the boat to rock.


    Just then, a sudden change occurred! The old militiaman abruptly put down the paddle, pushed forcefully with both hands, and directly pushed the young nobleman off the bow into the cold lake water. Caught off guard, the young nobleman choked on water, desperately struggling in the lake. The old militiaman coldly watched the nobleman in the lake for a moment, then shouted in a low voice.


    "Stop looking! Go! Escape!"


    A few of his fellow militiamen looked shocked. They paused briefly, but still obeyed the order, once again swinging the paddles, fleeing into the depths of Cuitzeo Lake.


    Behind them, two Mexica boats picked up the drowning young nobleman, confirming the identity of the noble. Soon, the militiamen on the boats, fighting over this richly rewarding Sacrifice, loudly argued, no longer caring about the escaping boat of militiamen.


    The setting sun cast a golden glow over the lake. The old militiaman rowed the boat, longingly looking toward the south, where the tranquil and beautiful Lake Region, his prosperous and rich homeland, lay. He didn¡¯t want to go to the Copper Capital, to continue that hopeless fight! He wanted to return to his wife and children, to hide in a secluded corner of the countryside, far from this cruel, damned war!


    Meanwhile behind him, Weizti, touching his still slightly aching head, struggled to look back. The majestic and sturdy Rivermouth Fortress was aflame, shaking with the sounds of fierce combat! The brutal blood and fire slowly receding away, turning into solidified bloodstains and blue bricks. And the symbols of victory and defeat were becoming clearer, just like the Marshal¡¯s flag that thunderously fell from the high tower!


    Along with the fall of the "Crocodile" flag, the Rivermouth Fortress, which had never been breached in over a hundred years, was now falling at this moment!

 Chapter 369 - 187: After the Fall of the City

    The setting sun fell upon the high-rise, casting golden silhouettes, outlining the tragic end of a hero. A strong wind whipped the flags, causing a rustling sound, like the footsteps of approaching death.


    The "Crocodile" Nobility Ospe stood atop the building, cold in hands and feet, his heart tumultuous. He stared westward, watching as one divine and noble flag after another fell, listening to the fierce fighting rapidly closing in, yet he could no longer dispatch any forces to block them. At this moment, the fall of the fortress had become inevitable!


    Though prepared, the Marshal from the north still felt a surge of despair, painfully crying out. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Such a strong fortress, in my hands, held just for two months! There is no longer such a stronghold in the south, the Capital City¡¯s military force is utterly scarce, is the Kingdom really doomed to destruction?!..."


    "Family Head! The west gate has fallen, the situation is dire, please let us escort you to retreat first!"


    A Samurai from the family, covered in blood, rushed back from the frontline in the west, and collapsed at Ospe¡¯s feet, anxiously yelling.


    "Escape? Where to escape?! The ¡¯Crocodile¡¯ fief¡¯s legacy is here, there is no place left in the Capital City. The spirits and ancestors are watching me! I have long vowed to share the fate of this fortress!"


    As he spoke, the "Crocodile" Nobility suddenly became agitated. He couldn¡¯t help but draw his bronze axe from his belt, stared toward the south outside the city, and to the Mexica¡¯s "Black Wolf" Commander¡¯s Flag, he swung his axe in the air several times, cursing loudly.


    "Die! Go die! That day on the river, the chase should have persisted until death, cutting you into pieces!..."


    Ospe¡¯s face morphed into a ferocious snarl as he cursed, but shortly after, another family Samurai quickly approached, shedding a trail of blood.


    "Family Head! The Mexica have surrounded this place, they will attack soon!"


    Through the attic, the "Crocodile" Nobility looked down, seeing that the frenzied enemy samurai had surrounded the high-rise layer by layer. A young samurai leader drew his bow and shot, precisely killing his own trusted aide, and the air was filled with the stench of blood.


    "Die!" Ospe took out his longbow, drew an arrow, and shot. His hands trembled violently and unsteadily, and his arrow only killed a bow-carrying Militia. The young samurai below, hearing the wind, instinctively dodged quickly, displaying remarkable martial arts. He then looked up, his eyebrows stern and eyes confident.


    "Ah, why do the Mexica have so many brave warriors! It¡¯s decided, I am ready to die, why should I harm the lives of brave men!"


    The "Crocodile" Nobility suddenly felt powerless, dispirited. He threw down his longbow and once again grasped the bronze axe, touching the bronze surface of the axe, feeling its icy touch.


    "Family Head, the enemy forces are attacking! Please prepare yourself, go fearlessly to the Divine Kingdom! We will follow and travel with you!"


    The newly appointed Head Warrior bowed to the ground, earnestly spoke.


    Ospe nodded. He crossed his bronze axe in front of his throat, feeling the sharp point, a slight prickling on his skin. Then, he closed his eyes and cried out loudly.


    "For the glory of the spirits!"


    After a while, the sounds of battle drew nearer, mixed with the continuous sounds of arrows tearing through the air, and continuous screams. The Head Warrior lifted his head, looking at the "Crocodile" Family Head, looking as if he were asleep, paused for a moment, then again bowed to the ground and persuaded.


    "Family Head, the enemy has reached the upstairs! Please go peacefully to the Divine Kingdom! I will arrange your corpse!"


    In this tranquil moment, Ospe opened his eyes, the past scenes surged through his mind. His youthful ascension filled with high spirits, middle-aged and invincible in battle... Conquering the Tecos Tribe, achieving a great victory. Sweeping away the Chichimeca Canine Descendants, the limitless glory... Also resisting the Mexica Alliance, the grand defeat on the lake... His eyes held changing reluctance, and his face showed boundless tragedy.


    "For the glory of the Kingdom!"


    The "Crocodile" Nobility once again called out somberly. His right arm still ached subtly, he seemed a bit weak just now, so he changed the bronze axe to his left arm. Then, he changed the angle of the axe point, bringing it closer to his throat.


    Moments later, the fierce battle noise arrived at the doorstep, the wild cries of the Mexica clearly audible.


    "Capture the Divine Descendant Marshal, sacrifice to the Chief Divine!"


    Then, it was the crisp sound of a flagpole snapping.


    Looking at the still, statue-like Family Head, the Head Warrior showed a look of despair. He bowed deeply to the ground several times.


    "Family Head, the Commander¡¯s Flag is broken, the enemy is right in front of us! Please go dignifiedly to the Divine Kingdom! I will go first, to die for the family!"


    After speaking, the Head Warrior stood up from the ground, resolutely turned around, and charged out the door. Soon, a dying howl was heard.


    Ospe opened his eyes, let out a long sigh, then closed his eyes again.


    "For the glory of the family!"


    This time, he made up his mind, clenched his teeth hard, only waiting to recite a final poem, then the "Crocodile" Family would end from thereafter!


    Outside the attic, "Black Wolf" Toltec smashed the charging Head Warrior to death with his two clubs. Then, he looked inside, the enemy Marshal in splendid attire was still holding his battle axe, about to commit suicide.


    Out of respect for the samurai heading to his death, Toltec, holding his battle club, halted his pace, solemnly standing at the doorway. He anticipated the brilliant blooming of a crimson flower, waiting for the exquisite withering of life. After a moment, the enemy Marshal still maintained the suicide pose, only slightly cutting some skin with the axe point, leaving a faint blood trace on his neck.


    Toltec hesitated for a moment, then cursed angrily! He charged forward, and with the blunt side of his club, violently struck Ospe¡¯s left shoulder. The "Crocodile" Nobility cried out in pain, knocked down on the floor, and let go of the bronze axe in his left hand, waiting for fate¡¯s judgement.

 Chapter 370 - 187: After the Fall of the City_2

    "Black Wolf" felt the surge of anger and, with a backhand, gave Ospia two slaps, scolding furiously,


    "You rat-fish bluffer! Putting on the airs of a hero, yet you can¡¯t even slit your own neck after all this time!"


    Ospia whimpered in pain, seeing stars, his face marked with the swelling imprint of a palm. He truly had resolved himself, but the thought of his family, which had endured for a century, facing extinction filled his mind with chaos, and he couldn¡¯t compose any final verses as he faced death...


    Thrilled to unleash his anger, Toltec immediately grabbed Ospia by the collar and burst into laughter.


    "I, Toltec, have captured the enemy Marshal!"


    "Black Wolf" drew the hemp rope from his waist and tied up Ospia like a crocodile, dragging him straight to the rooftop. Then, with one hand waving the broken enemy¡¯s flag and the other pulling Ospia from the ground, he used all his strength to bellow,


    "I, Toltec, have captured the enemy Marshal!"


    At the passageway below the South City wall, thousands of Tarasco samurai and militia were still resisting desperately but suddenly heard the thunderous roar from the high tower. The defenders, both atop and below the city walls, looked up only to see the broken "Crocodile" flag and the captive Marshal in his finery.


    In that instant, the Tarasco defending army¡¯s resistance came to an abrupt halt, and a look of utter despair appeared in their eyes. Moments later, as if the waterfalls had broken, their meaningless shouts erupted, and the defending army of the fortress finally disintegrated in a crash!


    Dozens of nobility, with their trusted aides, fled in all directions, seeking what they believed to be escape routes. Over a hundred samurai assembled in a spear formation to make a last stand but were immediately shot dead by a concentrated volley from archers. Five thousand militia simply fell to the ground and surrendered, crying out as they knelt and begged for mercy!


    The lengthy siege had lasted half a day, the tangled slaughter went on for quarters, yet the complete rout happened in an instant. In just two quarters more, there was no longer any force within the city capable of resistance.


    A messenger hurried out of the city and loudly reported back to Xiulote,


    "Your Highness, Toltec has captured the enemy Marshal! The Rivermouth Fortress has fallen!"


    As the sun set in the west, facing the fallen fortress, the Young Commander laughed heartily. He laughed with unfettered joy, laughed so heartily that it shook the heavens and the earth!


    The contagious laughter drifted far, reaching the ears of his trusted aides, touching the hearts of the samurai, and indeed stirring the spirits of all who heard it.


    After half a year of standoff and two months of siege, the Mexica Northern Army had finally captured the Rivermouth Fortress. It was the strongest and most formidable bulwark of the Tarasco people, never before taken by a foreign force. With its fall, it was as if the hard shell of a boiled turkey egg had been cracked. What lay ahead was the soft, vulnerable egg white of the southern shore of Cuitzeo Lake and the fertile Patzcuaro Lake region, the very heart of the egg yolk of the Kingdom, a feast now just within reach!


    Xiulote¡¯s chest swelled with pride as he strode towards the fortress. As soon as he entered, "Black Wolf" Toltec came dragging Ospia along. At this moment, the "Crocodile" nobleman¡¯s hair was disheveled, his face ashen, the very picture of desolation and defeat.


    "Your Highness, I salute you! I, Toltec, offer you the enemy Marshal, a great victory in this battle!"


    Full of elation, Toltec knelt on one knee, looked up, and shouted.


    The Young Commander laughed out loud. He took two steps forward, lifted "Black Wolf" Toltec, then gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder.


    "Well done, truly worthy of being my Black Wolf! Capturing the enemy Marshal, this battle will surely be accredited as the greatest merit!"


    Then Xiulote¡¯s lips curled in a half-smile, half-smirk. He approached the kneeling "Crocodile" noble, appraising his battered old adversary with a brooding chuckle,


    "Ospia, I¡¯ve heard you once swore to take Bertade and me as your subordinates?"


    The face of the "Crocodile" nobleman blushed and turned pale in succession. He lifted his head slightly, revealing a last defiant stance.


    "Your Highness, kill me if you must. A Divine Descendant of the Crocodile will not endure humiliation!"


    Hearing this, Toltec immediately stood up, grabbed Ospia by the collar, and delivered a fierce punch in the ribs. The "Crocodile" nobleman let out a pained scream and then curled up like a shrimp.


    "You rat-fish! You failed to die from disemboweling yourself half the day, yet here you still try to imitate the defiance of a swan!"


    Hearing Toltec¡¯s words, something stirred in Xiulote¡¯s heart. He took another look at Ospia¡¯s expression, and then said,


    "Black Wolf, drag him with you to the Fortress Touring City, and awe the surrendering enemy Samurai and Militia! But be careful to spare his life!"


    Toltec solemnly accepted the command, exerting force in his hand, and dragged Ospaway.


    Next, Xiulote ascended to the top of the city wall, glanced at the traces of smoke and fire, and looked again at the flames ignited somewhere in the fortress that had been waiting for a long time, and called for the veteran Etalik.


    "Etalik, your contribution in capturing the city is commendable, but it can only rank third! I will keep your merits in my heart. Now, hasten to gather the grain and fodder within the city, dispatch the Temple Guards to garrison, and then extinguish the flames inside the city. Additionally, allocate a portion of the seized provisions to comfort the heavily wounded Chichimeca Canine Descendants.


    An army traveling hundreds of miles, with a difficult supply route, gaining a load of grain from the enemy can reduce the Capital¡¯s burden by three loads!"


    "Your Highness, as the future Family Head, I follow all your commands! With this grand victory, the sun at its zenith, your fame will spread all over the world!"


    Hearing this, Etalik didn¡¯t mind at all, and respectfully nodded his head in acceptance. Then, with a sincere compliment, he turned and went about his business.


    Xiulote nodded slightly, the family¡¯s veterans were always reliable. Next, he looked down at the passage below the city wall, where most of the vanguard of the Divine Blessing Legion were covered in blood, and the Samurai had likely suffered significant losses.


    At this moment, these devout Otomi Warriors were seething with murderous intent. With one hand they held the Chief Divine¡¯s amulet, with the other they gripped prisoners on the ground, forcing the Tarasco Militia to convert. If anyone dared to refuse praying to the Chief Divine, they would be met with a blow to the head and killed on the spot.


    Seeing the genuine devotion from the Divine Blessing Legion, Xiulote nodded inwardly. He thought for a moment and summoned Natali, whose leather armor was bright red, and his eyes just as red.


    "Devout Legion Commander Natali, the Divine Blessing Legion was the vanguard to storm the fortress, this victory shall be regarded as the second merit!"


    Natali closed his eyes, silently prayed for a moment to calm his emotions from the slaughter. Only after a while did he steadily open his eyes and, like a statue, slowly nodded.


    "Thank you for your grace, Your Highness. Praise to the Chief Divine! We conquer mighty fortresses for Him, we spread His glory!"


    "Praise to the Chief Divine!"


    Xiulote gave a respectful salute, then spoke.


    "Natali, the Divine Blessing Legion has suffered no small number of casualties. What reward would you ask for?"


    The young Legion Commander¡¯s expression was solemn. After pondering for a moment, he spoke firmly.


    "Please, your Highness, perform a sacrificial rite for the fallen Divine Blessing warriors, to lead them to the Divine Kingdom. Please rescue and care for the wounded comrades of the legion, and have them convalesce at the Wooden Fort in the North. Lastly, please let us participate in the conversion ceremony of the Tarasco people to spread the Chief Divine¡¯s glory!"


    Hearing these requests, devoid of any selfishness, Xiulote nodded in satisfaction and laughed heartily.


    "Good, the Divine Blessing Legion is my loyal subject, and it¡¯s right for them to be so! You and the Priests go ignite the Sacred Fire, prepare the Blood Wine, the conversion ceremony shall take place immediately!"


    Last, the Young Commander surveyed his surroundings. The splattered fortress was littered with damaged buildings, solidified bloodstains, and fallen corpses. The air was thick with the stench of blood, blended with the smoke. Only the firm blue-stone city walls stood resiliently at the crucial Lerma Rivermouth, exerting their renewed defensive power! S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote climbed the Watchtower, as the bustling fortress gradually calmed. Behind the city walls, the Tarasco Militia were filled with fear and trepidation, kneeling down to form a sea of people, at least five thousand in number. Inside and outside the city walls, tens of thousands of Mexica Samurai held strategic points, their faces full of fierce bravery.


    The Young Commander smiled slightly, raised his arm. Tens of thousands of people simultaneously raised their arms, waving their weapons, and let out thunderous cheers¡ªa victory army indeed!


    In the midst of earth-shaking cheers, Xiulote looked to the south. There, the rivers, lakes were vast, plains stretched far, villages were densely scattered, and towns thrived. Traveling south from Cuitzeo Lake, past the isolated Huayamo Fortress, lies the Capital of the Tarasco people!


    Thinking of this, the Young Commander laughed heartily, with a clear path ahead! His heart surged with emotion as he recited aloud, and the guards kneeling beside him recorded his words.


    "I came to the lakeside, I saw the smoke of settlement, I conquered the Kingdom!"


    At the end of December, the Mexica Northern Route Army captured the Rivermouth Fortress, breaking through Tarasco¡¯s northern defenses, henceforth left unguarded. After resting the army for no more than three days, Xiulote once again assembled the Naval Forces, transported the main force of the Northern Army, and launched a major landing on the southern shore of Cuitzeo Lake.


    Tens of thousands of Mexica forces immediately advanced directly, non-stop, while the remaining local Militia fled at the sight of them. On the first day of the new year, the Northern Army finally reached the Huayamo Fortress, entered the Patzcuaro Lake Region, and were just over a hundred miles from the Copper Capital Qinchongcan. Upon receiving such startling news, the Tarasco Kingdom was completely shaken, with its survival hanging by a thread!

 Chapter 371 - 188: The Village by the Lake

    The chilly sunlight fell on Lake Patzcuaro, reflecting the shallow surface of the lake during the dry season and the reflections of the reeds in the water. Along the lake¡¯s shores, the Tarasco villages lay desolate and forlorn, the fields overgrown with weeds. Even though the new year had just begun, there were no celebrating crowds to be seen, nor the scent of incense in prayers. Only at dawn and dusk did faint wisps of cooking smoke rise, accompanied occasionally by the bark of a dog, revealing a rare hint of life.


    The old Militia member, Chiwaco, stood stiffly in front of a mud-brick hut, motionless, his eyes hollow and without light.


    Since he had been drafted and left his warm home, half a year had passed. During this time, he had fought in watery battles where flames blazed and survived city sieges amidst showers of arrows. He had seen many Nobility snap like cornstalks, thousands of Samurai stomped into the mud like leaves, and countless commoners, like weeds in a slash-and-burn, turned to ash by war¡¯s fire and scattered into oblivion without a trace.


    Having escaped from the battlefield¡¯s deadly grip, accustomed to the tears and blood of humanity, and weathered the hardships of life and death, he finally returned to his village. However, he never expected, nor wished to imagine, that in this cold, small home, only the simple mud hut remained.


    The mud hut, which he had built brick by brick from mud, had taken years to gather the materials and a year to construct, was considered respectable in the village. These baked mud bricks were the product of labor during the agricultural off-season, crafted night and day with his wife. This hut had once been filled with his wife¡¯s bustling activity, his son¡¯s noise, his daughter¡¯s laughter, and everything he cherished.


    At this moment, in front of the mud hut, the wooden door stood wide open, as if welcoming the long-absent homeowner. Outside the dwelling, the penned fire turkeys, the hairless domestic dogs in front of the house, and even the chili peppers hanging beneath the eaves were all gone. Inside, the few possessions were scattered about, seemingly narrating past events. The cooking pot was shattered on the ground, the water jar completely overturned. The painstakingly built straw bed was reduced to scattered straw; the corner where grain was stored was now utterly empty.


    The old Militia¡¯s mind was equally blank. He trembled as he looked at everything before him. The familiar, the anticipated, the loved ones he cherished, all remained only in his memory, as if they had taken his soul and left behind a solitary shell.


    Not far behind the old Militia, Weizti looked at the empty hut, his face a mask of confusion and helplessness. A group of seven Militia burst into this desolate and ruined village, and the home they remembered suddenly shattered. In this familiar yet strange place, they seemed to be the only signs of life.


    The young Militia, Ayuli, glanced at the trembling figures, scratched his head, and then stooped down to dig earnestly in the soil. After returning to the village, he had merely glanced at the empty hut before busying himself without concern.


    Ayuli was the youngest among them, just come of age. Although he usually engaged in chatter about women and children like the others, he was in fact a bachelor. His parents had died early, he was unmarried, and he was the only one left in his impoverished family, possessing not even a dagger. He felt little about death and separation. This time, when he left to serve in the army, he managed to get a long spear, snatch some clothes, and even grabbed a dagger, returning fully clad.


    After a while, Ayuli finally tossed a worn-out sack from the ground, filled with completely dried old corn. He grinned, grabbed a clay pot from another deserted house, and scooped up a jar of water from the nearby lake. While scooping, Ayuli glanced at the lake, where he could vaguely see some small boats with the gleam of Copper Spears shining in the distance. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ayuli paid no mind. He gathered a pile of straw from the rundown houses, then started a bonfire in the cold village center. He used his companions¡¯ Copper Spears to set up the clay pot over the fire, cooking the old corn, continuing to search the other houses for anything usable.


    Wisps of cooking smoke rose, and the aroma of corn began to drift through the village. Ayuli found a bag of coarse salt, tasting its salty taste tinged with bitterness, unsure of what was mixed within, or perhaps that was just the natural taste of salt. Then, he walked over to the pot, poked the corn with his dagger, and nodded in satisfaction.


    "Uncle, you blockhead, come and eat the corn!"


    Ayuli shouted joyfully at the other Militia members, but no one paid him any attention. He scratched his head again, then grabbed an ear of corn himself, disregarding its heat and struggling to chew. Indeed, old corn was hard to chew. Occasionally, he would lick the salt grains in his palm, which was the most economical way to eat. During his half-year campaign, he had seen the Samurai masters eat soft corn cakes and smoked meats, and the Nobility had pure yellow honey and dark cocoa. He genuinely envied them but could hardly imagine what they tasted like.


    The scent of food wafted far, and suddenly there was some movement in the village. An old man peeked out from a dilapidated house, carefully sized up the Copper Spears supporting the clay pot, then the man eating corn, and suddenly he relaxed. The old man quietly emerged, looked around at the other dazed people, and without caring about the hot water, abruptly reached into the pot for the corn.


    Hearing the noise, Ayuli abruptly stopped. He turned his head and saw the old man stealing corn, recognized him after a moment, and became furious.

 Chapter 372 - 188: The Village by the Lake_2

    "Old Iyitong, how dare you steal my corn!"


    Having said that, Ayuli reached out his hand to snatch the food from the old man¡¯s hands.


    Old Iyitong, while hunching over to dodge, frantically stuffed the corn into his mouth, stuttering as he babbled.


    "Young Ayuli, haven¡¯t you stolen enough corn from my family? Give me back just one cob, I haven¡¯t eaten in so long!... By the way, is the war over? Did only a few of you return? Where is my little Iyitong?"


    At these words, Ayuli suddenly stopped his hand. He scratched his head, sighed, and took two steps back, crouching in front of the clay pot, muttering something.


    Seeing this, Old Iyitong also stopped eating his corn. He looked at Ayuli, trembling as he asked.


    "My little Iyitong?... He..."


    Ayuli didn¡¯t make a sound and hesitated for a long while before nodding.


    Old Iyitong took two steps back in disbelief. In that moment, it seemed like all his strength had been sapped from him. The next, he abruptly turned to look at the dazed old militiaman Chiwaco and staggered toward him. In his hand, he held onto the half-eaten corn cob as if clinging to his last hope.


    "Chiwaco, where is my little Iyitong? All of you have returned, where is he?!"


    Hearing the loud questioning, the old militiaman slowly turned around, seeming to awaken from a deep sleep. He opened his eyes to see the old man rushing toward him, his expression gradually distorting and then bursting out with a shout.


    "Old Iyitong, why are you, this old immortal, still here! Where is my wife? Where is my son? Where is my daughter?! Where are they?!"


    Old Iyitong ignored the question. He approached the old militiaman, only to keep asking loudly.


    "Where is my son?!" S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your son is long dead! He was shot with an arrow and fell into the lake, leaving nothing behind, not even a body for the crocodiles!"


    Old Iyitong stood there as if struck by lightning. He stood motionless, muttering to himself.


    "Crocodiles... Crocodiles..."


    Chiwaco rushed forward, his eyes shining with a strange glow. He grabbed Old Iyitong by the collar and shook his withered body violently, growling fiercely as he demanded.


    "Old man, where is my family? Where is my son? Where is my daughter? Where is my wife?!"


    Old Iyitong, jolted by the violent shaking, looked at Chiwaco with a defeated expression and spoke bleakly.


    "Chiwaco, your family is gone! Your son was taken away by the second round of conscription by the Great Nobility! Your daughter was offered to the samurai by the village chief! Your wife, in despair, drowned herself two months ago. Her body was never found, no one knows where it decayed, and nobody went to look for her."


    Upon hearing this, Chiwaco¡¯s eyes widened, his body instantly froze, and tears streamed silently down his cheeks. Then he gasped violently, trembled violently, and then roared furiously.


    "My wife is gone, she¡¯s gone, gone... Damn it! My son was only fifteen, my daughter only thirteen! I will kill them all!"


    Next, the old militiaman¡¯s eyes filled with fierce killing intent as he aggressively throttled Old Iyitong¡¯s neck, asking harshly.


    "You old immortal, where¡¯s the village chief?... I will kill him! Kill him!!"


    Old Iyitong, terrified, looked at the Chiwaco he¡¯d never seen before. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Seeing this, Chiwaco slightly loosened his grip and continued staring fiercely.


    "The village chief... he was taken away by the Great Nobility in the third round of conscription... Who knows where he is now, he might also be thoroughly dead."


    The old militiaman froze once again. A look of confusion appeared in his eyes, and his hands lost their strength. After a while, he murmured to himself.


    "They¡¯re all dead... why don¡¯t you die? Why don¡¯t you die?..."


    Old Iyitong struggled to twist his neck free from Chiwaco¡¯s loosening grip. He gasped for air and, hearing the old militiaman¡¯s question, thought it was about himself.


    "The Great Nobility doesn¡¯t care about these old bones of mine, that¡¯s why they spared my life. Besides, being conscripted doesn¡¯t mean certain death, your son and daughter might still be alive somewhere in the Capital City."


    "They know nothing, how could they survive in these times!... No, no, you¡¯re right, they aren¡¯t dead, I have to find them and bring them back!"


    At this, the old militiaman¡¯s dull eyes lit up again. He looked across the lake to the Capital City, his only hope, and his new target. Then, he lowered his head, wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve, and left Old Iyitong behind, heading to where the militiamen were gathered around the fire pit. He needed to discuss plans with the comrades who had fought and survived together.


    Old Iyitong stood alone in the corner. He slowly finished the corn, slowly squatted down, and then slowly lay on the muddy ground, like an old yellow fish out of water. Next, he rolled over with difficulty, buried his head in the mud, and began to cry softly.


    The old militiaman Chiwaco gathered six companions. His eyes burning with passion, he spoke loudly about something. Then Weizti was the first to nod. The other militiamen stood still for a moment, some nodding in agreement, some shaking their heads in refusal, and they began to argue. Young Ayuli didn¡¯t care where he went, he looked toward the nearby lake and suddenly spotted something.


    "Look! There are two boats coming."


    Two typical canoes approached the lakeside, with shields erected on board, clearly a warship. From the warship, a dozen or so Tarasco warriors jumped off, holding gleaming copper spears and sturdy wooden shields, they marched indifferently toward the smoky village.


    "Which village are you militiamen from!"


    The leading warrior wore the garb of the House of Hummingbird. Returning from battle, the militiamen had learned much, and clearly, this was a warrior of the Great Nobility.

 Chapter 373 - 188: The Village by the Lake_3

    Everyone looked towards Chiwaco together. The old Militia lowered his head in silence for a moment, rubbed his face with his hand, then lifted his head, his face breaking into a smile. Then, with the accent he had learned from the north, he spoke respectfully.


    "Great Master, we are Militia from the northern Akanbaro State! The Mexica arrived too quickly, the Masters from the north didn¡¯t have enough time to resist, and many people scattered and fled... We were originally following a Great Master with a turkey crest, headed to the Capital City to garrison. But the Great Master moved too quickly, we couldn¡¯t catch up, got scattered here, and have been looking everywhere for his tracks..."


    The Hummingbird Samurai thought about the turkey crest, which indeed seemed to belong to a Fief up north. He looked at the militia¡¯s Copper Spears, then at the age of these men and slowly nodded.


    "Don¡¯t go looking for your Great Master anymore! Now, on behalf of the Chief Minister, I declare that you have been conscripted by Qinchongcan City, to serve the holy trinity of gods and the most exalted Royal Family! Pack up, don¡¯t bring any miscellaneous items, and follow me immediately!"


    The old Militia looked at the well-equipped Samurai in front of him and then at the other Militia. At that moment, everyone obediently nodded. They picked up their Long Spears and boarded the small boats with the Samurai, then headed for the "Land of the Hummingbird," the Capital City Qinchongcan. Before leaving, Ayuli took one last look at the bag of corn he had left behind, glanced at the shadow in the corner, scratched his head again, and followed the others away.


    The desolate village quieted down again, the bonfire flickering dimly, with only the faint sound of crying in the wind. After a good while, the crying gradually stopped, and the ignored old Itong got up from the ground. He wiped the mud and tears from his face, hunched over, and shakily picked up the remaining bag of corn. Clutching the heavy bag of corn tightly, he slowly approached the fire, squatted down, and picked up the corn cobs that the Militia had just discarded. Then, gnawing on the muddy remnants of corn as if devouring the last vestiges of hope, until there was nothing left. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Chiwaco followed the Hummingbird Samurai, rowing across the silent lake. As he looked at the blurry bodies floating in the water, he couldn¡¯t find the face that had accompanied him throughout his life. He observed the deserted islands in the lake, and memories of the past flooded his mind. In the many New Years he had lived through, the lake would be dotted with boats, villagers from all directions coming to trade local produce on the islands in the lake, singing and dancing. Town Priests would also occasionally come to preside over grand prayer ceremonies, extolling the three gods that protect the Tarasco people.


    He had shared these moments of rare joy amidst hard work with his family, now turned into fleeting illusions. The remnants of laughter from the memories carried on the wind, as if they were still beside him...


    The breeze dispersed the laughter and took away the figures, leaving only the desolate wind. On the lake, only a sparse number of patrolling warships remained, the Samurai and Militia gripping their weapons tightly, nervously watching the north. Mexica Scouts crossed the Huayamo Fortress, appearing on the edge of the Lake Region, and the fearsome army was already not far off.


    It only took half a day of sailing for everyone to reach the lakeshore. Chiwaco awoke from his reverie, and before him now was the bustling Kingdom Capital, Qinchongcan City.


    He watched the majestic city, the center of the world in the myths. He gazed at the high city walls, twice as strong as the Rivermouth stronghold. He observed the sacred "House of Wind," a cluster of pyramids standing for a century, the holy residence of the Priests. Lastly, he beheld the solemn "Palace of Wind," the supreme palace of the King, the heart of the Kingdom¡¯s rule.


    The grand Copper Capital stood firm by the lakeshore, unchanged for hundreds of years. It was, in Chiwaco¡¯s mind, the most bustling place in the world, and the final quest of his life.

 Chapter 374 - 189: Wind Rises in the Capital City

    The golden sunlight filtered through the swirling sacred smoke, falling upon the majestic "House of Wind" atop Akatla, as if it were a blessing from the gods. The sacred pyramid then flowed brightly, its brilliance dazzling and extraordinarily radiant. The Sacred Fire atop the pyramid burned ceaselessly and the grand sacrificial rites and dances never stopped.


    However, as the war situation gradually deteriorated, simple sacrificial rites could no longer stabilize the hearts of the nobility. The Northern Army of Mexica swiftly marched southward, and the well-informed nobility reacted.


    Chiwaco stood outside the towering city gates, watching refugees from all directions streaming towards the Capital City, seeking the strongest shelter in the city. The refugees formed long lines, but the lines to enter the city were constantly interrupted. Occasionally, nobles dressed in luxurious clothes and adorned with gold and jade, protected by dozens of Guardian Warriors with family crests, hurriedly left the city for their fiefs outside the Capital City. Every time a troop left the city, it meant that the city¡¯s defensive strength was reduced.


    Encountering a noble lord in a rush to leave the city, the leading Hummingbird Warrior looked angry but could only stand helplessly outside the city gates waiting. The old Militiaman glanced at the expressions of these nobles and then at the Warrior of the leading family, understanding something in his heart.


    "Once the noble lords leave the city, they probably won¡¯t come back. The lords are fleeing! Could it be that even the sturdy Capital City cannot be defended?"


    As Chiwaco was looking around, suddenly he heard a commotion. A majestic and tall elderly man in splendid clothing, vigorously walked towards the city gate, escorted by dozens of Copper-axe Guards.


    The war had lasted only half a year, but Chief Minister Jinjinni seemed to have aged ten years. His face was full of wrinkles, and his hair had completely turned white. Yet, his gaze was still firm, now with an added icy chill. As the Chief Minister approached the city gate, he glanced around, and his face grew angrier. Then, he recognized a hereditary noble who was just at the gate bowing, a perfect scapegoat for the situation.


    Thus, the elderly man in splendid clothing pointed with his hand and shouted sternly,


    "Leaving the city without a Royal Decree is a betrayal to the gods and the King! Arrest him, execute the noble descendant on the spot, and recruit the family warriors into the military!"


    At the city gate, faced with the Chief Minister¡¯s command, the hereditary noble looked horrified. He began to explain frantically,


    "Chief Minister, before me, there were many other nobles..."


    Next to the old Militiaman, the leading Hummingbird Warrior had been closely observing the Chief Minister¡¯s intentions. Standing closest to the noble, as soon as he heard the command, he abruptly pounced from behind. Without letting the noble finish speaking, he thrust his long spear forcefully, piercing the noble¡¯s heart from the back, with the spear tip protruding from the chest, instantly splashing blood everywhere. The hereditary noble only managed to utter "ah, ah" twice before he fell dead, like a red petal. Then, the surrounding guards surged forward, disarmed the noble¡¯s family warriors, and took them away.


    Watching this sudden scene unfold, the old Militiaman Chiwaco shuddered. As he saw the high and mighty nobles being executed as if they were mere weeds, a strange thought suddenly struck him.


    "So, even noble lords can be easily killed..." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Inside and outside the city gate, there was a chilling moment. Jinjinni looked at everyone¡¯s faces, nodded slightly, and again ordered sternly,


    "Cut off the head and hang it on the southern gate to show the public! Anyone who leaves the city without permission will be executed, nobles included! Close all gates, leaving only the southern gate open for refugees to enter. Enlist able-bodied refugees on the spot into the military, and the strong women will be arranged by the logistics camp. Disperse the remaining elderly, women, and children away, not allowing them to linger near the Capital City!"


    Hearing the Chief Minister¡¯s decree, the surrounding Guardian Warriors quickly took their orders. Then, Jinjinni looked toward the family warrior who had acted first, his face faintly familiar. Not bothering to recall his memory, he spoke directly,


    "You did well! State your name, there will be a reward!"


    "Respected Family Head, I am Puap from the ¡¯Huitu¡¯ family, ready to die for you!"


    The Hummingbird Warrior, Puap, knelt down on both knees, respectfully saluting.


    The Chief Minister nodded slightly. "Huitu" was a name passed down among commoner warriors and also a family of warriors serving the Hummingbird family. He pondered for a moment and then spoke,


    "So you are the son of old Huitu. Puap, from today onwards, you are a noble of military merit, commanding a hundred warriors as their captain! However, I have no warriors to give you; you must recruit them yourself. I grant you the authority to promote Militia to become warriors!"


    As he spoke, Jinjinni glanced at the following Militia. His authoritative gaze made the Militia bow their heads all at once. Chiwaco too felt a chill in his heart and lowered his head.


    "Puap, you are a generational warrior of the Hummingbird family. I have a task for you! Lead the newly recruited squad of warriors to intimidate and pacify the thousands of Tekos Militia scattered throughout the city. Of course, other warrior squads will coordinate with you. Remember, these tribal warriors are unruly and often harass around; if necessary, demonstrate your decisive action just now!"


    Hearing about the reward, Puap was first overjoyed and bowed down to the ground five times. Then, he raised his bruised forehead, his expression fierce as he accepted the order,


    "Family Head, I will follow your command! If the Tekos people dare disobey, I will take their heads and build them in front of the Moon Goddess¡¯s pyramid!"


    The Chief Minister watched the fierce Hummingbird Warrior for a moment, pondered, and continued,


    "Good! Puap, I trust your bravery! However, we still need these Tekos tribes to defend the city. Go and take a batch of food, wine, and country women to console them first. To make hunting dogs obey, you must both whip them and reward them with a couple of bones!"

 Chapter 375 - 189: Wind Rises in the Capital City_2

    Hearing this, Puap respectfully bowed deeply. The Chief Minister glanced one last time at the vague throng of commoners outside the city and then strode away, returning to the sublime "Palace of Wind."


    Only when the Chief¡¯s figure had vanished in the distance did Puap rise to his feet and fiercely sweep his gaze around. Then, he proudly lifted his head, looking towards the militia behind him.


    "The exalted Chief has just appointed me as a noble of military merit, Warrior Captain! Consider yourselves lucky, there are only a handful of samurai in the squad now. Considering you have all seen battle, I offer you a chance to become samurai: pledge loyalty to me, and henceforth, you too can claim the title of Samurai Lord!"


    The militia looked towards Chiwaco together, and Puap was somewhat surprised to follow their gaze. The old militiaman was slightly lost in thought, his mind fixated on the Chief¡¯s last words, "reward with rural women." It wasn¡¯t until Puap called out impatiently that the old man reacted. After a moment¡¯s thought, he bowed down to the ground.


    "O great noble lord, Chiwaco pledges loyalty to you! From now on, you are the highest stalk of corn, and we are but pumpkins at your feet, destined to die before you!"


    Seeing their elder kneel, many other militiamen gradually bowed before Puap, addressing him as "noble lord."


    Hearing these common flatteries, Hummingbird warrior Puap laughed heartily. He extended a hand, mimicking the gestures of the nobility, and gripped the scant hair left on Chiwaco¡¯s head. Then, filled with pride, he looked around and proclaimed loudly.


    "Come, to the quartermaster¡¯s camp! First, I¡¯ll assign each of you a rural woman, then a feast of meat and drink, have a good time! And after that, join me in dealing with those Tekos Barbarians. Once we repel the Mexica, the good days ahead will be long!"


    Puap¡¯s laughter scattered under the winter sunlight. He was like the corn at the base of the mountain, only feeling glorious and warm. Meanwhile, the Chief Minister at the peak resembled a green pine, experiencing a boundless chill and desolation.


    In the majestic and magnificent "Palace of Wind," Jinjinni stood gazing at Royal Family murals, his fingers hidden in his sleeves, silently counting the troops at hand. The inept "Crocodile" had lost the Rivermouth Fortress, and the rapid southward advance of the Mexica troops had cut off reinforcements from the Chapala Lake Region that were still on their way.


    Now, he only had the last fifteen hundred Royal Warriors willing to follow the Royal Palace¡¯s commands. The Priests had a thousand Temple Guards, stationed immovably near the "House of Wind" pyramid. As for the private troops of the various nobility in the capital, there was barely more than a thousand left. These nobility¡¯s private troops were also hard to command, merely forcibly confined within the city for defense.


    "That being calculated, the total number of warriors in the capital adds up to less than four thousand. Royal Warriors need to suppress the city internally, Temple Guards and nobility¡¯s private troops are immovable, the capital has completely lost the capability to fight field battles outside the city... Damn, Ospatan deserves death! His corpse should be divided in five, a sacrificial rite to the gods!" S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A faint redness appeared in the Chief¡¯s eyes. Soon after, he reminded himself about the militia situation in the capital and slightly relaxed.


    After urgent promises and drafts, the southern Tecos Tribe had again dispatched fifteen thousand militia, arriving at the Lake Region last month. He dispatched five thousand Tecos militia and five hundred Royal Warriors to the northern hundred-mile outpost at Huayamo Fortress, serving as the outermost defense line of the Capital City. He then drafted the remaining ten thousand Tecos militia into the Capital City for garrisoning. Moreover, after pooling resources from east and west, the Lake Region managed to muster another ten thousand militiamen capable of defending the city, inclusive of both elders and youths.


    "At this moment, the Capital City has twenty thousand militia strengthening its defense, along with grain and fodder gathered from around the Lake Region. Relying on the tall city walls and ample food supplies, it should hold out for several years!"


    With the situation swiftly deteriorating, faced with the crisis of the Kingdom¡¯s collapse, Jinjinni no longer considered any further development. He had already dispatched warriors to completely scour the nearby villages and towns within three to five days around the Lake Region. All grain was fully requisitioned, and able-bodied men and women were conscripted into the military. The once-prosperous villages and towns were turned into scorched earth, leaving nothing usable for the Mexica people!


    Reflecting on this, Jinjinni closed his eyes again, his thoughts swirling, his heart stirring painfully. Outside the Capital City, village communes were already deserted, decades of hard work gone in an instant. And within the Capital City, Tecos chieftains were marrying into the Royal Family, and the tribal civilians were causing chaos everywhere, turning the thriving Capital City into a mess... The Chief Minister¡¯s eyes reddened once more, a surge of murderous intent filling his heart.


    "Ospatan deserves death!... Damn, the Rivermouth Fortress was lost too quickly! The Mexica people are rapidly moving south, cutting off the northern passage, rendering all arrangements effectively useless!"


    Jinjinni silently counted, pondering the Kingdom¡¯s situation day and night, which was crystal clear in his mind.


    The thousand warriors stationed at fortresses in Akanbaro State hadn¡¯t managed to play their disruptive role when they were cut off from the Capital City. At this time, Akanbaro State likely still had around three thousand warriors and over ten thousand militia, but they could not safely be recalled to the Capital City. These remnants in the north were definitely under the surveillance of the Mexica, and once they left the fortresses, they simply couldn¡¯t withstand an assault from five thousand Mexica warriors.


    And at the Huayamo Fortress in the northern Lake Region, the stationed five hundred Royal Warriors and five thousand Tecos militia could only barely hold off for a while. His original plan was to amass reinforcements from the Chapala Lake Region here and then move the army northward to relieve the Rivermouth Fortress.


    Persuaded by the Royal Elder, under the condition of crowning sovereignty, the Chapala Lake Region, with a population of six hundred thousand, finally mobilized on a large scale. The various nobility assembled ten thousand warriors and twenty thousand militia, a grand total of thirty thousand troops marching southward along the interior of Saka State. Just two weeks away, the reinforcements would have reached Huayamo Fortress and merged with the Capital City¡¯s troops, but the Mexica had taken the Rivermouth Fortress, blocking ahead of Huayamo.

 Chapter 376 - 189: Winds Rising Over the Capital City_3

    "The ¡¯Crocodile¡¯ must be killed!... The ¡¯Feathers¡¯ must be killed as well!"


    Without needing a Scout report, Jinjinni could calculate everything clearly. ¡¯Feathers¡¯, Pengguari, seemed brave and resolute, but in reality, he was indecisive and only focused on immediate benefits. The Chapala Legion he led must be stationed at some location in Saka at this moment, watching the development of the situation. Once the Guamal Canine Descendants moved south from the north, and the Chapala Lake Region was threatened, the Chapala Legion might retreat north directly, completely fleeing from the decisive battle that would decide the fate of the world.


    "Send an Envoy with my seal to the northern Chapala Legion! Urge ¡¯Feathers¡¯ to come to our aid quickly. Additionally, promise Pengguari that if he arrives in the Lake Region on time to contain the Mexica Northern Army, I will betroth the direct-line princess from the Predecessor Monarch to him! He should understand what these words mean!"


    Hearing this command, the trusted aide from the family opened his eyes in shock.


    "Chief, this... for the King... it¡¯s absolutely impermissible!"


    A gentle smile suddenly appeared on Jinjinni¡¯s cold face. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No matter. This promise can only be fulfilled after the war has ended. By that time, all the chaos will be shouldered by me alone!"


    The family¡¯s trusted aide was silent for a moment, tears in his eyes. Then he bowed his head solemnly, rendered a salute, and left with dignity.


    Jinjinni looked at the murals of the Divine Eagle and the Hummingbird, smiled slightly, and his expression turned cold once more. A new batch of orders was issued, his voice growing increasingly louder.


    "Send an Envoy to the East, discreetly inform the King of the latest military situation in the north! Additionally, relay my suggestion, word for word: Your Majesty, when a great fire starts, the wind should stay far away. Let the wildfire sweep through, burning all the weeds, corn, and even cocoa outside the city. As long as the sacred wind persists, it will sow new seeds!"


    "Again, send an Envoy to Weytamo in the south, pleading for them to harass the Mexica¡¯s rear lines, similarly promising a Prince¡¯s fief and betrothal of a princess from the Royal Family!"


    "Send a Divine Descendant Envoy to Tlaxcala, informing the four Alliance leaders: the Tarasco Kingdom may not hold out much longer, and once the Kingdom falls, they can only resist the Mexica alone. The Kingdom earnestly requests that the allied nations that have agreed to marital ties mobilize their armies and come to our aid quickly! Besides, inform the Elder Priests of Cholula that the Tarasco Kingdom is willing to convert and revere the Cholula Holy City, serving the Nava gods!"


    "Lastly, send a Divine Descendant Envoy to the south to Mistec, southeast to the Zapotecs, northeast to Vastec, to the east to the Totonacs, and even to the weak Tlapanec! Tell them, if the Tarasco Kingdom perishes, the Mexica will inevitably unite the world under their control! If they do not wish to forever be submerged under the Samurai¡¯s War Club, enduring endless tribute and sacrifices, they must resist now!"


    "The Tarasco does not expect them to bravely take up arms and attack, but at the very least, they should halt their tributes to the Mexica Alliance! In such intense warfare of a hundred thousand scale, even the Mexica¡¯s national power won¡¯t last two years! After this battle, regardless of national size, all will be treated as brothers!"


    Jinjinni was almost roaring out the last orders, his face, the Chief Minister¡¯s, flushed with an odd redness. He took deep breaths, waved away the surrounding trusted aides, no longer maintaining his dignified posture. After a long while, staring at the last mural, he suddenly smiled radiantly.


    "After this battle, regardless of whether we win or lose, the Hummingbird will cease to exist!... If the Divine Eagle survives, I will fulfill the trust placed in me by three generations of Predecessor Monarchs, henceforth falling with a smile, my soul eternally descending into the Abyss!"

 Chapter 377 - One Hundred Ninety: Reconnaissance, Fall of the City, and the New Legion

    The wind of January came from the north, bearing the sorrow of frost. It sobbed as it flew low, carrying the unique freshness of the highlands, gently lifting into a dirge over the lake of Patzcuaro.


    Amid the weeping of the wind, the Mexica scout Necali crouched low, hidden among the reeds at the lakeside, scrutinizing the enemy capital city along the shore. As a warrior directly under the royal family, his vision was excellent; he was adept at small-unit combat, agile as a leopard, and even had a basic understanding of numerical measurements... He was almost the perfect candidate for a scout! If there was one flaw, it was that his swimming skills were average at best.


    At that thought, Necali spat hatefully toward the lake. During the last water battle on Lake Yuriria, he was first forced into the water by several militia, then someone kicked him viciously in the midsection, causing him to choke on water, and he nearly drowned dishonorably in the lake. Now, just the sight of the deep Great Lake made him tremble with fear.


    "Tch, damn Tarasco Kingdom, nothing but lakes everywhere! Once His Highness Xiulote conquers this place, sooner or later he will turn these lakes into chinampas and grant them to valiant warriors!" S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Coming from the direct service of the royal family, Necali had been following His Highness for less than a year. But at that moment, like thousands of other royal warriors, his heart was filled with admiration and obedience to His Highness.


    "Since the campaign began last May, our army has now surrounded the Huayamo Fortress and is approaching the enemy capital. His Highness is invincible in combat, like the incarnation of a god, and has even invented many strange weapons, truly a great commander-in-chief!... What¡¯s more, His Highness always values common-born warriors and has promoted many commoners to nobility... If I perform a great service, I might also receive the reward of a chinampa and be ennobled as a respected military noble!"


    A radiant smile emerged on Necali¡¯s face, his eyes sparkling with bright desire. After a moment, he vigorously shook his head, his expression turning resolute and murderous as he looked toward the lakeside capital city.


    "In the past few days, many fancy nobles left the city; it¡¯s a pity there were no hands to seize one to interrogate about military intelligence... The north and east gates are closed, and the west gate near the lake is too. There¡¯s dust rising behind the gates, potentially they¡¯re filling them with earth and stone... There are many barbarians on the city walls, constantly making a racket... Eh? It seems I can understand what they¡¯re saying, something about ¡¯corn,¡¯ ¡¯liquor,¡¯ ¡¯women¡¯?..."


    Necali listened closely for a while and found that these barbarians¡¯ language was actually quite similar to the Mexica language, even more understandable than the Tarasco people¡¯s speech. He didn¡¯t ponder the reasons behind this nor knew the history buried in the wind. He just sniffed the air, faintly catching the scent of food, which made him somewhat hungry. Hmm, they even have a midday meal; it seems the Tarasco people are not short on food.


    Then, Necali furrowed his brow, gesturing with his hands in front of his eyes.


    "One man high, two men high... five men high, six men high... Pah, the Tarasco people built the city wall so high¡ªit¡¯s like an old turtle in the river! The people on the walls look so tiny from here... Ah, that man... that man looks familiar?"


    With eyes like an eagle, Necali stared intently at the Weizti on the city wall, recognizing his ever-unchanging headband, his memory suddenly crystallized. Then, the young scout erupted with fury, spitting once more.


    "It¡¯s you, cunning Black Fish! When I catch you, I¡¯ll press you to death under the water! Hmph, the city even harbors old veterans who¡¯ve been in naval battles, which means they¡¯ll be cautious about new weapons."


    Necali frowned again, counting off on his fingers.


    "Escaped nobles, stationed barbarians, sealed gates, towering walls, plentiful food, experienced veterans... Ah, this capital city seems quite difficult to take!"


    With that thought, Necali looked around the Great Lake again. In his line of sight were the trees that had been nearly all chopped down, enemy ships patrolling and weaving, the stray floating corpses, emaciated elders and children, alongside the desolate and silent villages... After a long pause, he shook his head and once again bent two fingers.


    "Hmm, inside the city all are soldiers, outside are but ghosts!"


    After counting on his fingers again, Necali swiftly stood up. Lastly, he took one final, lingering look at Weizti on the city wall, then turned and headed north, back to the encampment surrounding Huayamo.


    Traveling alone is always quick and hurried. Necali moved by day and night, silently, only killing a few wild dogs with blood-red eyes. These wild dogs, having tasted human flesh, attacked lone travelers, leaving bones full of bite marks in the wilderness. Unlike the weak refugees, an elite warrior with a few precise slashes would easily chop them into pieces, adding new fertilizer to this desolate yet fertile land.


    It took only three days of travel before the Mexica camp appeared once again before scout Necali¡¯s eyes. Inside the camp, the flag of the Black Wolf Marshal flew high, guarded by thousands of stern warriors. Outside, spread out for ten miles, were patrolling squads and the Huayamo Fortress, which was nearly encircled.


    Necali rubbed his eyes and took a closer look, then burst out with a deep cheer. The Huayamo Fortress was now covered with Mexica flags, patterns of hummingbirds and sun waving in the wind¡ªthe fortress had been captured!


    "Praise the Chief Divine! He has granted us victory in war, and we spread the glory of the divine for Him!"


    Necali bowed his head, praying devoutly for a moment. Then, he took out the scout¡¯s token and passed through the patrolling warriors, directly into the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s tent. Inside the tent, the august presence of His Highness was holding a novel quill pen, writing in heavenly script and symbols.

 Chapter 378 - 190: Reconnaissance, City Fall, and New Legion_2

    Necali dared not disturb and waited for a moment. It was not until His Highness was done that he replied in a deep voice.


    A gentle breeze passed by, carrying away the drifting voices. Xiulote patiently listened to the military report and asked a few questions before he smiled faintly and spoke in praise.


    "To see the large in the small, discerning the whole through the details. Necali, you¡¯ve done well! This journey has not been easy; go now to the logistics camp and take some food and drinks."


    Upon hearing this, joy filled Necali¡¯s heart. He respectfully knelt on both knees, seizing this rare opportunity to praise loudly and earnestly.


    "The Husco Volcano pierces the clouds, with Divine Eagles soaring above! Your Highness, you are the supreme Divine Eagle in the sky, and we follow you on the earth, to the ends of heaven and earth!"


    Xiulote was taken aback. He looked at Necali¡¯s rugged and sincere face, gazed at him for a moment, and slowly nodded.


    "Very well! Necali, rest well; there will be more opportunities for you to distinguish yourself!"


    Only then did Necali rise, respectfully retreating. Watching the tent close again, the Young Commander chuckled to himself.


    "Good, the morale is high, the military heart is reliable!"


    With this in mind, Xiulote rose to his full height and walked to the curtained window, gazing at the distant fortress. The fortress still bore the clear marks of smoke and fire, and the bodies of the defending army were not yet fully cleared. Dark red blood congealed on the battlements and broken ladders lay scattered below the walls, revealing traces of the brutal battle.


    In fact, Huayamo Fortress had only just been captured by the army the day before. Five hundred Tarasco warriors had all died in battle, and a majority of the five thousand Tekos militia had surrendered. This fortress, entirely constructed from granite and blue bricks, had a very solid structure. It was not large, only half the size of the Rivermouth Fortress, but its walls stood seven to eight meters high. If the fortress had sufficient defenders, it would have been very difficult to conquer in a short period of time.


    Thus, after capturing Rivermouth Fortress, Xiulote had almost not paused before he gathered his forces and rushed southward, encircling Huayamo Fortress in a swift assault. He moved so hurriedly after the major victory that he did not even have time to reward his troops, as he was concerned that the Tarasco army might gather at Huayamo and subject him to months of siege with heavy casualties.


    Luckily, Akanbaro¡¯s northern remnant forces had not wisely retreated immediately, and the enemy reinforcements from the Chapala Lake Region had not hastened their march decisively. When tens of thousands of Mexica legionnaires arrived at Huayamo Fortress and cut off the northern passage, the fortress held only a mere five hundred warriors and five thousand unruly tribal militia. Between these warriors and militia, there was a clear divide, lacking strong leadership and mutual trust.


    Afterward, the Mexica army besieged the city for two weeks, building siege ladders. Surprisingly, the Tekos tribe militia bravely exited the city, screaming wildly, and launched a risky sortie. The initial phase of the assault was tremendously successful, quickly crushing the Otomi militia who were building the ladders, killing three to four hundred. However, when the Longbow Warriors gathered and shot in unison, with the War Club warriors closing in from both flanks, the Tekos militia could no longer hold their ground. They retreated in panic, and many were shot dead at the city gates, leaving nearly a thousand bodies.


    The attack turned swiftly from victory to defeat, and the morale inside the city plummeted. Without hesitation, Xiulote pressed two thousand Crossbowmen forward the next day to shoot from sixty steps away from the battlements. The Mexica legion, leveraging the range advantage of the crossbows, gradually suppressed the defenders of Huayamo. Then, the remaining over two thousand Canine Descendants were driven forward again. They set up ladders and launched Clay Tribulus that could explode at any moment, blowing the morale of both the defenders and their own forces into the valley.


    The Tekos militia hailed from the western mountains, were fierce in battle but superstitious in belief. Living in a region of frequent volcanoes, they were familiar with the smell of burning sulfur but had never experienced the booming sounds of this new type of weapon. In their hearts, these new weapons were bestowed with divinity, considered either "the roar of the Fire God", "the Envoy of the God of Death", or "the Evil Demon from beneath the volcano", all seen as irresistible forces.


    After the explosion, five thousand Royal Warriors surged forth, storming the city from all sides and killing the resolute Tarasco warriors. Soon after, various factions of the Tekos gradually surrendered. By the end of the siege, Xiulote had captured an additional three thousand able-bodied prisoners, while the casualties were only over four hundred Royal Warriors and a similar number of Chichimeca Canine Descendants.


    The Young Commander once again gazed at the mottled battlements, and scenes of the war flashed continuously in his mind.


    He saw again the fierce combat of the warriors, bodies falling from the towering battlements, blood flowing everywhere; he heard the booming explosions of the Clay Tribulus, the high-pitched cries from both sides, accompanied by the dying screams. Until the last defending warrior died, a throng of Tekos people prostrated and begged for mercy. They cried out the name of the Fire God, abandoning their last resistance, handing over their lives to the enemies endowed with Divine Power.


    Thinking of the large number of prisoners, Xiulote felt a slight headache. After the battle at Rivermouth Fortress, he had acquired five thousand Tarasco militia, and now he had an additional three thousand from the Tekos tribe. These prisoners required nearly ten thousand pounds of food daily, plus warriors had to be assigned to guard them, which was indeed quite troublesome!


    The Young Commander¡¯s gaze shifted, occasionally flashing a cold, murderous intent. After a long while, he shook his head and seriously said to himself.


    "Xiulote, killing prisoners brings no good fortune. Human heads aren¡¯t like chives that regrow after being cut. You can face all the ruthless killing during battle, but you shouldn¡¯t get lost in the senseless slaughter that follows after..."


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze gradually calmed. He stood silently for a moment, then instructed his guard to summon the surrendered General Ezpan from Tarasco.


    The tent flap opened and fresh air surged in. As soon as Ezpan entered the grand tent, he respectfully knelt and bowed.


    "Honored Highness, your loyal watchdog Ezpan is here. You are my only master, and I will pounce at your enemies whenever needed!"


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes were profound for a moment. Then, with an expressionless face, he slightly nodded and calmly stared at Ezpan.


    Ezpan appeared composed, his left hand¡¯s four fingers together, fist placed on his chest in salute. He wore the bright war clothes of Mexica nobility, and around his neck hung a silver Sun Amulet, showing no hint of his Tarascan heritage.


    After a while, the Young Commander slowly began to speak.


    "Ezpan, the Alliance will inevitably conquer the Tarasco Kingdom. Being one of the first Tarascans to surrender, you will have more opportunities than others. You know, I never care about your commoner background, only your abilities and the efficacy of your actions!"


    Hearing this, a surge of emotions welled up in Ezpan. He vaguely sensed something, bowing even more respectfully.


    Xiulote paused for a moment, then looked down at Ezpan again before calmly speaking.


    "Last month, the Northern Route Army captured the Rivermouth Fortress, taking five thousand Tarascan militia prisoners. This month, the legion has taken over a significant portion of Tarasco Territory, bringing many villages under control. Yesterday, we conquered the Huayamo Fortress, the capital city is now in sight!... Ezpan, the Tarascans are destined to become part of the Alliance, and they should serve the Alliance!"


    Upon hearing this, Ezpan, without hesitation, bowed forcefully. Suppressing his excitement, he cried out hoarsely.


    "Highness, the Tarascans are willing to become your loyal minions. I am willing to be the forefront canine tooth for you, to bite at your enemies first, no matter who they are!"


    Xiulote nodded, finally revealing a gentle smile.


    "Good! Ezpan, remember your vows. I have high expectations for you, do not let me down. I will entrust you with the five thousand surrendered Tarasco soldiers, along with several dozen warriors who previously surrendered. They have already converted to the worship of the great Chief Divine. Going forward, there will be more and more Tarascan defectors.


    You need to filter useful personnel from these defectors to form a legion loyal to the Alliance! You will be the Legion Commander of this force!"


    Ezpan was overwhelmed with emotion. He bowed again, tears sliding down his cheeks, and when he spoke again his voice was choked.


    "Thank... Your Highness... to die for you!" sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote smiled again, patting his shoulder.


    "This new legion¡¯s equipment will temporarily use the spoils from the two fortresses. However, the design of the war clothes needs to be altered, and the faith in the Chief Divine must be affirmed!"


    "Currently, I do not expect your newly formed legion to participate in open battles. Your initial goal is to organize the Tarascan defectors, making them usable as labor for the large army. And when their loyalty reaches a certain level, they can serve as the local garrison legions. Additionally, lead them to inspect and judge the crimes of the nobility at various manors. As for a brighter future... Ezpan, that is up to you!"


    Ezpan bowed his head again. His forehead pressed against the cold ground, but his heart blazed with fervor.


    "I obey your command! Highness, you are my only sun!"

 Chapter 379 - One Hundred and Ninety-One: Discussing Battle and Organizing the Army Part One

    Outside the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s grand tent, the northern wind howled across the highland and swept down toward the south with irresistible force. Inside the grand tent, frangipani beans burned quietly in the Jade Furnace, releasing a distant and rich fragrance that stimulated thoughts and cleared the mind.


    In this pleasant atmosphere, Xiulote watched Ezpan, who was swearing allegiance on the ground, with a faint smile on his lips. Smiling, he helped the newly appointed Tarasco Legion commander to his feet and encouraged him again.


    "Ezpan, accomplish everything I have entrusted to you, further prove your capabilities! After victory in the west, the land of Miken will be reallotted, and a vassal king will be stationed... The Alliance also intends to conquer Colima and control the western Tekos people, and you are familiar with the terrain there... By then, you will also have a place among the Great Nobility of the Alliance!"


    Upon hearing this, Ezpan raised his head and looked at Xiulote with a somewhat bewildered gaze. After all, he came from a foreign commoner background, not clearly understanding the Mexica Alliance¡¯s system, nor could he grasp the implications of His Highness¡¯s words. He simply bowed again, his face alight with joy.


    "Your Highness, I will always follow your will! I am willing to conquer the Tekos Barbarians for you!"


    Xiulote nodded slightly, saying no more. He pondered for a moment then slowly asked.


    "Ezpan, what do you know about the Capital City of the Tarasco Kingdom, ¡¯Qinchongcan City¡¯ in the Land of the Hummingbird? What are its defenses like, are there any weaknesses?"


    Ezpan thought for a moment, cautiously offering suggestions.


    "Your Highness, the capital, Qinchongcan, is majestic and spacious, housing nearly a hundred thousand people at its peak, a first-class grand city! According to the Alliance¡¯s new measures, the city walls are about nine meters high, and wide enough for seven or eight people to walk abreast. The walls are entirely made of granite, volcanic rock, and green bricks, using a large amount of corn ash mortar for binding, virtually indestructible! On the city walls, many wooden watchtowers and guard towers are erected, where archers can be stationed... Attacking the majestic capital is like scaling a volcano in the clouds, by no means an easy task..."


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s brows gradually furrowed. Ezpan¡¯s description and the Scout¡¯s report were similar, reflecting each other; the image of Qinchongcan City became clearer in his mind and made him feel increasingly troubled.


    "... and the capital itself is built on the shores of Lake Patzcuaro, with a complex underground water system that, however, does not connect to the lake surface directly. There are many deep wells in the capital that can provide water for a hundred thousand people. Outside the city lies the thriving Lake Patzcuaro region, densely populated, dotted with rich villages and manors..."


    Xiulote thought for a moment, then asked in a deep voice.


    "Ezpan, tell me the truth. If I asked you to dig a tunnel right up to the walls of Qinchongcan City, are you confident you could do it?"


    Upon hearing the question from His Highness, Ezpan felt a heavy pressure. He tried to speak several times but swallowed his words again. After a while, he shook his head with a serious expression.


    "Your Highness, I am not confident. The area beneath the Lake Region is filled with waterlogged soil, a saturated water zone; digging a tunnel there is truly a technical job! Only the most experienced veteran miners can have some certainty, and these veterans are all under the control of the Tarasco Royal Family. On normal days, these senior miners are mostly gathered a few dozen miles southwest of the capital, mining at several semi-open-air copper mines directly owned by the Royal Family. That is a high-yield copper mining area near Ihuatzio City!"


    Xiulote¡¯s eyebrows lifted slightly. He heard about the copper mines again; they were quite close, right under the army¡¯s blades! He carefully memorized this information, then asked again.


    "Have you personally visited Patzcuaro and Ihuatzio Cities to the south of the capital?"


    Ezpan reminisced for a long time, then nodded earnestly.


    "Yes, Your Highness. Patzcuaro City is located a few dozen miles to the southeast of the capital, with a long history, having been established for over a hundred years. Similar to Huayamo Fortress, the south-east of Patzcuaro is not large but has strong defenses. Additionally, there is a huge granary there, supplying the Kingdom Legions that march to the East or the South. Currently, on the southern front, the state of Apachigan requires a large amount of food, and the logistics line should start from here!"


    "As for Ihuatzio City, it is a large city that has prospered due to copper mining trade. Located at the southernmost point of Lake Patzcuaro, the city has expanded to the lake¡¯s edge where water access is convenient. There is a spacious market, large pyramids, merchants from various regions, and nearby numerous copper and silver mines, as well as opulent and luxurious manors of the Nobility. More importantly, the rich Ihuatzio City is unguarded by walls! Only in the center, in the Temple area, is there something like a fortress formed by groups of pyramids."


    Ezpan¡¯s eyes sparkled with desire. A city that almost monopolizes copper mining and trade, a city also rich in silver, its wealth is imaginable! He spoke with slight excitement.


    "Your Highness, Ihuatzio City is unprotected by walls! Before the formidable forces of the Alliance, this prosperous city will be like a delicate and beautiful maiden, unable to resist and will only be ravaged at will!"


    Hearing Ezpan¡¯s implication, Xiulote nodded slightly, noncommittally. Although Ihuatzio City was affluent, it didn¡¯t have a substantial impact on the strategic grand scheme and was not a priority target. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In fact, Lake Patzcuaro did not connect with Cuitzeo Lake to the north, and the Alliance¡¯s fleet could not enter; the lake was always tightly controlled by the Tarasco people. Protected by Qinchongcan and Patzcuaro cities on the lakeshore, it was also difficult to reach Ihuatzio City for the time being.

 Chapter 380 - 191 Discussion of Battle and Army Reorganization (Part 2)

    The young commander¡¯s gaze fell once more upon the map inside the grand tent, landing on the mark for the city of Patzcuaro.


    He watched the southern front, where the main legions of both sides were locked in battle. Armies of a hundred thousand had been slaughtering each other for months, star warriors falling like rain, nobility withering like flowers! More importantly, the Akanbaro State was situated in the mountainous forest area, naturally defensible but not affluent, completely reliant on the supply lines from the rear. At this very moment, the supply route starting from the city of Patzcuaro was the southern enemy¡¯s lifeline!


    Xiulote pondered for a moment; many thoughts flickered vaguely, yet they were disordered and difficult to resolve. He shook his head gently and looked again at the respectful and obedient Ezpan, gesturing him away.


    "Ezpan, you may leave now. Drill those surrendered Tarasco troops well; form the second spear legion!"


    The tent flaps opened and then closed, the crisp wind sweeping in, uplifting the spirits. Then, the young commander summoned a few trusted aides and instructed.


    "Summon Legion Commander Olosh, Monkey Kuluka, the veteran Etalik, Black Wolf Torc, Royal Family Vice Legion Commander Balda, and Divine Blessing Legion Commander Natali. Tell them I wish to hold a small military deliberation, please have them come discreetly!"


    The natural order of these names reflected the young commander¡¯s subconscious order of trust and confidence.


    The trusted aides hurriedly took their leave to carry out the orders. Xiulote turned and gazed at the quietly burning red sandalwood. Unaware, a stick of incense was nearly burnt out, much like the Tarasco Kingdom rocked by storms, and the Mexica Northern Army whose momentum was waning.


    After only a short while, the teacher Olosh arrived first. He first looked around inside the tent, seeing no one else, he then embraced Xiulote, saying softly.


    "Xiulote, you¡¯ve been looking pale lately. Don¡¯t overthink things, make sure you rest on time! Otherwise, I will find you a couple of personal maids to look after you properly."


    In the presence of his teacher, who had accompanied him since childhood, Xiulote seemed much more relaxed. He sighed slightly, shedding his commander¡¯s authority, and said with a laugh and shake of his head.


    "Teacher, commanding armies and waging war is truly not easy! I feel as if I¡¯m walking along the edge of a steep cliff, anxious and uneasy, constantly looking ahead and to the sides, for fear of a misstep. I¡¯m like a monkey king, carrying a mountain on my back, bearing endless pressure on my shoulders, hardly able to sleep a moment. And with the myriad daily affairs, there¡¯s not a moment of peace.


    My father has already taken control of the rear for me, guarding the fortress, maintaining contact with the allied forces behind us. He is also managing the distribution of the supplies, comforting the wounded, and awarding military honors. But some matters cannot be left to others; I always have to deal with various generals, examine the army¡¯s situation. And with the uncertain state of the enemy, I need to guess at all times, wary and cautious... It truly gives me a headache!"


    Hearing the young commander¡¯s complaints, a relieved smile surfaced on Olosh¡¯s concerned face. He quickly composed himself, solemnly praising him.


    "Your Highness, commanding large armies is exactly like that! In the half year of campaigning and victories, you have grown into an excellent marshal! After this ordeal, when you manage your fief later, it will come much more easily! Xiulote, no matter what, your father and I will always stand by your side!"


    Upon uttering the last sentence, the mighty Jaguar warrior for the first time knelt on one knee, placing the young commander¡¯s hand on his head.


    Xiulote was taken aback briefly, then skillfully patted Olosh¡¯s hair. He then hurriedly bent down to help the teacher up from the ground.


    "Teacher..."


    "Your Highness, the generals are not far behind, you should maintain your authority during the military deliberation."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote was silent for a moment, then nodded his head. He regained his composure and asked in a deep voice.


    "Olosh, what is the current situation of the Holy City Legion?"


    "The Holy City Legion currently has three thousand five hundred warriors, all absolutely loyal to you!"


    The young commander nodded slightly, this was his absolute core lineage.


    Then "Monkey" Kuluka was the second to arrive; as soon as he entered the tent, he respectfully prostrated himself on the ground. He was dressed in formal war clothes, his demeanor becoming resolute and calm, with only his eyes still sparkling with an agile light.


    "Honored sovereign, congratulations on yet another victory! I am ready to lay down my life for you at any time!"


    Xiulote smiled gently, speaking warmly.


    "Rise, Monkey, no need for excessive formality. How is the Spear Legion faring?"


    "The Spear Legion, eight thousand strong, has been conserving strength and biding time, solely participating in sieges and blockades. The warriors frequently request to be deployed, eager to slay the enemy and gain merit!"


    Xiulote nodded again. The carefully trained Spear Legion would test its actual combat effectiveness in open field battles; they were also his trusted loyalists. Thinking of this, he reassured in a soft voice.


    "There is no need to be anxious; the opportunity to join battle will come very soon!"


    Soon after, the grizzled Etalik, with a fierce expression, stepped firmly into the tent and knelt to pay his respects.


    "Honored Your Highness, your radiance shines upon us like the rising sun in the sky! Your wisdom guides us like the sparkling, brilliant emerald! I am your cobblestone, paving the way for you!"


    Xiulote smiled gently. He asked.


    "Etalik, your work has always been reliable. How are things at the Rivermouth Fortress? How many are left in the Temple Guards?"


    "The Temple Guards still have fifteen hundred warriors, among them five hundred Stirrup Crossbowmen, ready for battle at any time!"


    Xiulote smiled with satisfaction. In several sieges, the elite Temple Guards had performed exceedingly well. The Stirrup Crossbowmen could shoot from great ranges, effectively suppressing the defenders on the battlements, while the Temple Warriors excelled in fierce combat, often being the first to breach the Rivermouth Fortress. These zealous Religious Knights were adept at ferocious attacks, often fighting to the death, which resulted in significant losses to their own.


    Then, the young commander pondered for a moment before asking slowly.


    "How are the Chichimeca Canine Descendants faring?"


    The old warrior Etalik¡¯s expression remained unchanged, but his tone was much softer.


    "Your Highness, after two sieges and multiple vanguard assaults, the Chichimeca Canine Descendants, who have always been at the very front of the assault, utilizing the unpredictably powerful Clay Tribulus... now, of the four thousand Canine Descendants, only fifteen hundred remain, their morale has plummeted. Even with my best efforts to console them, providing food, water, and Priest¡¯s potions, the chieftains are full of complaints. The casualties among the lower ranks of the Tribal Warriors are also grave and hard to contain... The Canine Descendants can no longer be used in the tough battles, only as a Defending Army at the fortresses!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote nodded slowly. Even if Canine Descendants were fearless in battle and in awe of the gods, they were still ordinary Tribal Warriors. Given such casualties, they indeed could not be relied upon anymore. He thought for a moment and then issued a loud order.


    "Then let the Canine Descendants stay and help defend the Huayamo Fortress! Etalik, I appreciate your hard work. Continue to coax the chieftains and soothe the hearts of the Canine Warriors."


    Etalik bowed respectfully and then stood by Xiulote¡¯s side.


    Xiulote fell into contemplation. He was calculating the defensive situations of several fortresses. After the capture of the Rivermouth Fortress, the wooden forts on the north bank of the Lerma River seemed insignificant and were no longer pivotal points on the supply route. Thus, he reassigned the resting Royal Warriors, taking away all the new weapons with him. Then, he handed these wooden forts, along with the land on the north bank of the Lerma River, over to the Ottopan Warriors led by Jiowar.


    The three thousand Ottopan Warriors, after going through campaigns, were reduced to fifteen hundred, and they too were unfit for further use. Handing the northern wooden forts over to Jiowar to garrison was a consolation to the Otomi people. The territory on the North Coast was inconsequential for the larger strategy, and it was temporarily returned to Otapan City-State to solidify the alliance between them. These apparent concessions in the alliance could also help Jiowar establish prestige within the City-States.


    Now, the Rivermouth Fortress had become the new core stronghold, the storage center for all provisions. Xiulote once again requested his father to step in, have him garrison there, and command the Western City-State Legions, as well as the Royal Warriors led by Tepopolo.


    The Western City-States had dispatched five thousand City-State Warriors, and about four thousand were left. These private troops of the nobility from various states could not be relied upon for large-scale field battles or sieges, but they were more than capable of defending and excelling in plundering. Stationed at the Rivermouth Fortress, the City-State Warriors would occasionally raid the hinterlands of the Akanbaro State in the East, flattening the noble manors in the area. They also kept up continuous pressure on the remnants of the Tarasco forces to the north, looking for their weaknesses, ready to coordinate with the main forces of Huayamo and crush the enemy at once!


    In the naval battle at Lake Yuriria, the three thousand Royal Warriors led by Tepopolo were assigned to the front line, suffering the most casualties. Even after rest and recovery at the wooden forts, this legion was now left with only fifteen hundred warriors. The young commander thus continued to have him stationed at the Rivermouth Fortress as one of the garrison forces. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As Xiulote pondered, he lit some new red sandalwood incense. The rich aroma entered his nostrils, bringing layers of sensation, just like his fluctuating moods. In the heart of the young commander, each troop had a clear assessment. Loyalty, closeness, combat effectiveness, equipment, numbers, fighting style, characteristics... even the strategy of deployment, all were crystal clear!

 Chapter 381 - 191 Deliberation on Battle and Troop Organization (Part 2)

    The red sandalwood smoldered slowly in the white jade furnace, twinkling with bright specks, rising in a faint mist, emanating a mellow woody fragrance. The gentle aroma lingered in the great tent, refreshing the spirit. All the officers stood silently in awe, waiting for His Highness¡¯s decision.


    In the midst of the pure fragrance, Xiulote observed quietly, gently touching. The warm sandalwood had an even hue, the material delicate, carved into a beautiful hummingbird; and the slightly cool jade furnace was crystal clear, smooth and lustrous, polished into a pure sun. The sun¡¯s hummingbird burned intensely, radiating light, heat, and fragrance, altering the surrounding environment. It was just like the Mexica legion, with the light of faith, the zeal of conquest, and the stench of slaughter, reshaping everything in the Michoac¨¢n region!


    Xiulote reflected for a long time, until the tent¡¯s curtains were once again drawn back, and a brisk breeze swept in. Black Wolf Torc entered resolutely, his fighting spirit high, and then with a "thud," he kneeled on one knee.


    "Respected Highness, your Black Wolf, Torc, presents himself before the king of the wolf pack!"


    Seeing the spirited Torc, Xiulote smiled. He reached out to pull the "Black Wolf" up, asking with a smile,


    "Torc, have you taken care of everything I assigned to you?"


    "Of course! Your Highness, I dragged that spineless ratfish, waving his Marshal flag, around among the newly surrendered Tekos Militia! Seeing the seemingly submissive northern Marshal, the Tekos troops were inexplicably shocked, their expressions changing, and they will definitely be much easier to manage afterward!"


    Torc laughed aloud, his disdain for the opposition evident.


    Hearing this, Xiulote laughed heartily.


    "The opposition is neither willing to face death bravely, nor to surrender promptly, after all, they cannot let go of their pride, nor swallow their vanity. Since that¡¯s the case, keep them well-fed and well-cared for, dragging them along in a public display! Once his pride is worn away, and his face lost, with a proper reason, he will naturally align with the Alliance!"


    With some confusion, Torc looked up at His Highness.


    "Highness, the opposition¡¯s Samurai have all died in battle, their fief taken by the Alliance. What¡¯s the use of investing so much effort in dealing with such a spineless ratfish?"


    Xiulote smiled, patting his beloved general¡¯s shoulder.


    "My Black Wolf, to conquer a kingdom, one must use both the war club and the hearts of men! You must divide the entirety of the enemy into sections, dealing with them bit by bit. Just like a skilled Samurai, who will not confront multiple enemies bunched together, but instead create opportunities for individual combat, easily defeating each opponent one by one!"


    With that, Xiulote surveyed his trusted personnel in the tent, the moment perfectly fitting, and spoke again.


    "Come closer, everyone, listen carefully! This is the lifelong experience of a certain Marshal, skilled in both warfare and governance. The first question in war, who is our enemy? Who is our friend?


    In the Tarasco people, those who wield power include the Royal Family, Priests, Great Nobility, and Nobility; those who wield arms are the Samurai, Militia, and foreign mercenaries; those ruled over include ordinary merchants, Craftsmen, commoners, and slaves from various regions. These groups are distinctly different! There are contradictions within and among the classes, some of which even exceed the conflicts with us!"


    Xiulote looked around, the teacher Olosh pensive, the lively Kuluka¡¯s eyes twinkling, the old warrior Etalik showing understanding, but only Black Wolf Torc remained bewildered. The Young Commander noted the reactions and spoke again.


    "As the army marched on, initially, Otapan¡¯s Otomi, Tarasco¡¯s Royal Family, Priests, Nobilities both great and small, Samurai, Militia, and foreign mercenaries, they were all our enemies. Tarasco¡¯s merchants, Craftsmen, commoners, and slaves, all served those enemies. But as our forces cut a path southward like a juggernaut, the situation gradually evolved!"


    "After forming the Alliance, the Otapan became our allies, sending troops to fight alongside us. After the naval battle at Lake Yuriria, a few Tarasco Samurai began to surrender, and some of the Militia too. By the time we captured Rivermouth Fortress, more Militia and some of the Nobility surrendered, along with some Marshals who didn¡¯t openly surrender. After taking Huayamo Fortress, the foreign mercenaries put up little resistance before joining the Alliance. Between the two fortresses, hundreds of miles of land saw many villages and towns surrender."


    "At this moment, numerous Tarasco commoners and slaves are beginning to appear on the lands controlled by the Alliance. I have ordered Ezpan to organize a Tarasco legion from the surrendered troops. In the future, the numbers of the Tarasco legion will further increase, their training will intensify, and they might even surpass the current Mexica legion!"


    Hearing this, the faces of the officers showed worry, Olosh started to speak but hesitated, Kuluka¡¯s expression shifted, and Etalik grasped the Sun Amulet around his neck. Hmm, Torc continued to look puzzled.


    Xiulote smiled and then his expression turned serious.


    "Next, is the second statement. The changing situation is divided into different stages. In each stage, we focus on destroying the most stubborn groups, increasing our friends, and decreasing our enemies!" sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The first stage, we aim to take over the Tarasco capital, eliminate the lake region¡¯s kingdom government. At that time, the Tarasco capital¡¯s Royal Family and Great Nobility will be the enemies to be eliminated! Due to the divine nature of the war, the capital¡¯s Temple High Priests will also be the enemies to be eliminated! And along the path of the legion¡¯s march, all the territories we conquer, all the Great Nobility with arms, are the enemies to be eliminated!"

 Chapter 382 - 191 Deliberation on Battle and Troop Organization (Part 2)

    Beyond the capital and its controlled districts, the varied ranks of the Great Nobility, the lesser Nobility, vassal tribes of the Tekos, and even the Samurai and Militia from the capital, were all parties we could negotiate and compromise with. We needed to keep them as neutral as possible, or even turn them into our friends.


    Among them, the power of both the high and low Nobility in the regions was the strongest. Thus, the Alliance would promise autonomy to the mountainous Weytamo State, persuading the lesser nobility of Xitaqualo State to defect. After that, once we have repelled the reinforcements from the Chapala Lake Region, I shall send Envoys to them, temporarily promising them autonomy and peace. As for the Akanbaro State in the east, if we can¡¯t find an opportunity to crush them in one fell swoop, we can also send Envoys, promising to preserve the fiefs of both the high and low Nobility."


    "At this moment, I keep Ospai by my side as an example of obedience, to divide these Nobles of all sizes and give them a chance to surrender. Once Ospai formally surrenders, he will become the best channel of communication, helping the Alliance to persuade various Tarasco Lords to defect!"


    Hearing this, Toltec finally understood and slapped his thigh, laughing aloud,


    "So Your Highness intends to make all the Tarasco ratfish surrender! But Your Highness, if those timid ratfish surrender, where will our Samurai go to gain their glorious achievements and substantial wealth?"


    Xiulote chuckled, patted Black Wolf on the shoulder, and continued to speak,


    "When the first phase is complete and the Tarasco kingdom¡¯s political power is wiped out, we will enter the second phase. In this stage, we must seize both political and religious authority and control even more land and manpower. The legions must pacify the lesser nobility within the controlled region, transform all Tarasco Priests, directly control the local populace, and also suppress the Great Nobility in the adjacent regions! The new rule must penetrate into the villages, whether in the name of the Alliance or in the name of the Divine!"


    "In this phase, the heathen Priests within the controlled region and the Tarasco Nobility in the adjacent areas are enemies that must be eradicated! Samurai and Militia who are willing to pledge allegiance to the Alliance, merchants and civilians who obey the ruling from various places, are our friends and we must, as much as possible, turn them into our own. We have to establish a brand new order, an enlightened path to promotion, a centralized and powerful Kingdom!"


    Hearing this, Kuluka, who was born into the lower working class, his eyes flickered. He looked at His Highness, who loomed majestic, and asked cautiously and carefully,


    "Your Highness, what then is the third phase?"


    Xiulote paused for a moment, pondered for a while, and slowly said,


    "The third phase is about extending control deep into the villages, increasing the area under effective rule, conquering the Chapala Lake Region, the mountainous Weytamo State, gaining control over the Tekos people of Colima State in the south, influencing the Tekos Tribes in the north, assimilating and pacifying the Guamal Canine Descendants, gradually incorporating the northern Otomi people!"


    "So Your Highness, what is the fourth phase?"


    Hearing the monkey¡¯s question, Xiulote¡¯s gaze deepened, and he thought of many things: the Alliance, the Nobility, the civilians, the slaves... The not so distant new worlds of north and south, the distant nations of the old world, and even the infinite future! After a long pause, he calmly shook his head.


    "Monkey, you will see the fourth phase, for that is our era!"


    The tent fell silent once again, the generals internalized His Highness¡¯s innovative teachings, and felt the contained ambition surge in their hearts. After a moment, the confident and fearless Toltec asked loudly,


    "Your Highness, is there a third saying?"


    Xiulote thought for a moment and then said meaningfully,


    "Yes! The third saying is, contradictions continue to transform, the struggle never stops, the enemy is always there!"


    Hearing this, Olosh and Etalik exchanged a knowing glance; the two nodded subtly in agreement, and then their gazes diverged.


    The tent lapsed into silence once more, the tranquil burning of sandalwood permeated the air. The distant scent pervaded hearts and minds, following soaring thoughts across time and space, all the way to the changing future.


    Soon, the tent flap was lifted again, and the Royal Family¡¯s Vice Legion Commander, Balda, along with the Divine Blessing Legion Commander, Natali, arrived side by side. They each took a knee in succession, bowing respectfully to Xiulote.


    "Respected Your Highness, praise the King! The grand Alliance upholds us, and under the command of the exalted Royal Family, the legions of the Alliance have achieved a brilliant victory!"


    Adorned in the magnificent attire of an Eagle Warrior, Balda wore a sincere joy, his fist placed over his chest, performing an ancient Nobility gesture.


    "Respected High Priest, praise the Chief Divine! The most high Chief Divine blesses us, and under the guidance of the sacred Priests, the army of the Chief Divine has won a glorious victory!"


    Natali, dressed in the simple robe of the Divine Blessing Legion, looked solemn and calm. Clutching the Sun Amulet on his neck, he faced the young Priest and praised and prayed with devotion.


    Xiulote watched the two Legion Commanders who had arrived last, listening to their different yet similar words, and laughed heartily. He opened his arms wide, as if to lift the two men, and replied likewise.


    "Balda, I dedicate the splendid victory to our esteemed Royal Family and the honor of battle to our immortal ancestors! The land and civilians of Tarasco are destined to become an inseparable part of the Alliance!"


    "Natali, I dedicate the glorious victory to the supreme Sun God and the noble Sacrifices to the great War God! The foreign gods of Tarasco will be expelled, and this place will become a bright and sacred Divine Kingdom!"


    The three laughed together, their laughter filled with the heroic spirit of conquest. Following this, Balda and Natali took a step to either side, standing firm beside the gathering of commanders.


    A breeze blew into the tent from outside, and Xiulote slightly lowered his gaze. He savored the fading scent, which conveyed a different flavor, as well as a different attitude of allegiance.


    Afterward, the Young Commander opened his eyes and looked calmly at Toltec.


    "Black Wolf, how are the longbow Militia faring?"


    "Your Highness, aside from the hundred or so who are healing, there remain fifteen hundred in the longbow Militia. They have donned the cotton Armor we captured, they¡¯re rested and ready, and they can march at any time! Also, the abandoned longbows have been properly collected; we just need to replenish the troops, and they can be reformed into an army!"


    Xiulote nodded slightly. Having gone through naval battles on the lake and siege shootouts, the longbow Militia had suffered heavy losses. Their equipment had been upgraded to reduce casualties in shootouts. These Militia are precise at mid-close range archery, adept at squad movements, and perfectly suited as snipers or for hit-and-run guerrilla tactics.


    "The longbow Militia will continue to garrison at Huayamo Fortress, waiting for further orders! Toltec, you will select from the three thousand surrendering members of the Tekos Tribe. As before, pick out five hundred skilled in archery and add them to the longbow Militia, then begin intensive training.


    As for the remaining two thousand five hundred, including all of the tribal Chieftains, hand them over to the Naval Corps Commander Annatri by Cuitzeo Lake. She will lead half the fleet back to transport grain; take these unstable captives to her, to be handed over to the northern General Osellor, as a way to thank him for providing Canine Descendant support.


    In the distant northern stronghold, these Tekos far from their homeland will be easier to convert. The northern General¡¯s forces will need fresh blood that can be easily controlled, and so does my Legion! Tell Annatri to relay the message: If General Osellor agrees, the exchange between the Chichimeca Canine Descendants and the Tecos Tribe can continue, and I will also provide sponsorship for weapons!"


    Toltec responded loudly. He silently repeated the plans in his mind, carefully contemplating His Highness¡¯s arrangements.


    Then, Xiulote turned to Balda and smiled warmly.


    "Balda, how many are left of the three thousand Royal Legion?" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Balda looked somewhat somber as he spoke loudly.


    "Your Highness, the siege of Huayamo Fortress has cost us several hundred Samurai. Of the three thousand troops I led, fewer than two thousand remain! The Royal Legion is the true elite; please ensure they receive adequate consolation and rewards!"


    Xiulote nodded slowly.


    "Very well. I shall personally preside over the funeral of those who died in battle and generously reward the injured Warriors! Balda, your Legion will also stay stationed in Huayamo. Secure the fortress with fortified spirits!"


    The mighty Eagle Warrior bowed his head to take the order. Finally, Xiulote looked toward Natali of the Divine Blessing Legion.


    "Natali, how is the Divine Blessing Legion now?"


    Natali bowed respectfully, never letting go of his Amulet.


    "Praise be to the Chief Divine, He protects us! Your Highness, during the siege, the Legion merely sealed off the perimeter. The Samurai are in high spirits and unscathed. The Chief Divine is supreme, and Divine battle is grandest! The two thousand Samurai of the Divine Blessing Legion are always ready to sacrifice for the Chief Divine!"

 Chapter 383 - One Hundred and Ninety-Three: Discussing Battle and Organizing the Army Part Two

    Hummingbird-like red sandalwood slowly burned, its eyes sparkling with red sparks. The sun-like white jade incense burner gradually warmed, dispersing wafts of profound fragrance. Within the commander-in-chief¡¯s tent, every general pondered solemnly, their expressions grave as if enveloped by divine power.


    Upon hearing Natali declare his stance, Xiulote nodded in satisfaction. The devoutly spiritual Divine Blessing Legion was like an exceptionally sharp obsidian dagger. Supported by their faith, they could launch fearless and powerful attacks but were also prone to breaking. These blessed warriors had already lost a thousand men, yet the remaining warriors still had stable morale and could participate in fierce field battles and sieges.


    As the military council reached this point, all generals, having reported on their troops, stood by waiting with hands tied at their sides. Only Bertade, who was wounded and recovering, left the longbowmen temporarily without a leader. Xiulote personally commanded five hundred Jaguar warriors, one thousand longbow trusted aides, and one thousand five hundred royal longbow warriors, totaling three thousand elite troops. These elites, always following the Black Wolf¡¯s banner, were used cautiously and could be considered the marshal¡¯s personal army.


    The young commander looked around, the current status of every unit of the Mexica Northern Army was now clear. Afterwards, he focused his thoughts, mentally calculating the overall troop strength and grain supplies.


    The Northern Wooden Fort along with the Otapan Legion was struck off. Rivermouth Fortress had five thousand five hundred warriors defending the city, nearly five thousand naval forces. Huayamo Fortress gathered the main force of the Northern Army, consisting of twelve thousand battle-ready warriors, eight thousand spear legions, and also longbow hunters, Otomi militia, various Canine Descendants, and Tarasco prisoners, totaling over twelve thousand militia.


    In this calculation, there were over thirty thousand troops on Huayamo¡¯s front line, of which twenty thousand were trustworthy elites!


    The army¡¯s logistics originated from the northern Rivermouth, with food first transported by water to the southernmost shore of Cuitzeo Lake, then transferred overland. The entire grain route needed about four days, not considered long. The legions had successively captured two key fortresses, seizing a large amount of grain from the Tarasco people. Now, the front line¡¯s stored food could sustain thirty thousand people for two months. With the dry season still lasting three months, the fortress¡¯s food consumption was minimal, and the quantity of stored food was equally within a safe range!


    Thinking this far, Xiulote threw open the tent¡¯s curtain. In the fresh breeze, he looked again toward the south, his eyes filled with a burning desire, his chest filled with vigorous spirit.


    "Tarasco¡¯s capital, the flourishing Qinchongcan City, lies just a hundred miles to the south! I want to lead the army southward, besiege the enemy¡¯s capital city, and cut off the Tarasco Royal Army¡¯s grain route! With one battle, we shall decide the fate of the land, is there any objection from the generals?"


    Upon these words, Toltec was the first to step out, loudly exclaiming.


    "Your Highness, I, Black Wolf Toltec, wish to be the vanguard for the great army!"


    Natali followed a beat later, also solemnly responding.


    "Praise the Chief Divine, to die for the divine! The Divine Blessing Legion wishes to be the vanguard!"


    Balda opened his mouth, but remembered that His Highness had arranged for him to defend the fortress. He paused for a moment before speaking softly.


    "Your Highness, the royal warriors are most elite; Balda wishes to be the vanguard!" sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote laughed out loud. He waited a moment, but the calls for battle ceased there, and his three most trusted generals remained silent. The young commander turned to look at them, Master Olosh wore a worried expression, old General Etalik stroked his chin, and Monkey Kuluka had a flickering gaze. All three were simultaneously pondering something.


    After a moment, it was Olosh, who had the closest relationship and most special position, who first spoke.


    "Your Highness, when the great army moves south, how many people should be left to guard Huayamo Fortress?"


    Xiulote already had a plan, and he said with a smile.


    "Two to three thousand warriors, three to four thousand militia, enough to defend!"


    "Chapala Legion is currently in Saka, just a week¡¯s distance from here. They have a force of thirty thousand, I estimate a third of them are battle-ready warriors. If they organize and attack, surround the fortress, cutting off our army¡¯s grain route, what then?" Olosh asked worryingly.


    "That¡¯s exactly what I want them to do! Thirty thousand Chapala Legion, if they hide in Saka and defend, our army for the moment really has no way against them... I will leave the new style wooden cannons at Huayamo Fortress to assist in defense. As long as they come here, bogging down at the fortress, I will lead the great army back and completely crush them in one fell swoop!"


    "If they remain cautious and only send troops to harass, repeatedly attacking our grain route, what then?"


    "The fortress¡¯s grain route is only a few days long, we can strive to maintain it. The Tarasco royal legion to the south has even more troops, less stored grain! They are fighting with the Alliance¡¯s main forces in the south, the battleground is already scorched earth, logistics completely dependent on the Lake Region. Just cut off the grain route at Patzcuari for one to two months, and the southern Tarasco Royal Army will inevitably crumble without a fight! By then, the southern Alliance¡¯s main forces can break through the solid fortress group in one stroke, and the Tarasco people will have no danger left to defend, and the world will hence be settled!"


    Xiulote was confident. He had long pondered this, and this was the fastest plan! Qinchongcan City was difficult to conquer, but its defending army was also unable to battle. Just by encircling without attacking, then cutting off the grain transport a few dozen miles to the southeast at Patzcuari...by the fourth month, both western expeditionary forces could meet in Tarasco¡¯s capital, conducting the final siege!


    Hearing this, Olosh was momentarily speechless. After a long silence, Etalik slowly opened his mouth, asking in a deep voice.


    "Your Highness, if Tarasco¡¯s King Su¡¯angua abandons the southern fortresses and directly leads his legions back, what then should our army do?"


    Xiulote laughed heartily. With a smile full of mirth, he said.

 Chapter 384 - 193: Discussing Battle and Organizing the Army - Part 2

    ```


    "Then let us wait on the road of his return, cutting off his way back! In doing so, the Tarasco Royal Army in hurried retreat, with the Mexica Southern Army in pursuit from behind and the Mexica Northern Army blocking their path ahead, one battle will lead to their entire force being annihilated!"


    After that, the Young Commander expressed some yearning contemplation.


    "If we could capture the King of Tarasco, perhaps we could persuade Qinchongcan City to surrender, and the world could be pacified without a battle! The once-thriving Patzcuaro Lake Region is now in decline¡ªif all goes well, we might still be able to make up for this year¡¯s spring plowing!"


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s reflections, the monkey Kuluka raised his head, gazing at His Highness¡¯s sincere face, his eyes sparkled with bright light. The old General Etalik paused for a moment. He looked around at the surrounding generals, his gaze becoming deep and distant. Then, he spoke softly.


    "His Highness is merciful! But what if the Southern Army does not arrive in time? What if it is just us alone facing the returning Tarasco Royal Army? And if at that moment, the Chapala Legion from the northwest also happens to arrive?... By then, the Northern Army would be deep in enemy territory, with reinforcements hundreds of miles away. With the Tarasco Royal Army in front and the Chapala reinforcements behind, it will be us facing destruction after one battle!"


    At these words, Xiulote was taken aback. He looked toward the old General Etalik, as the loyal warriors of the Holy City bowed their heads in salute, prostrating themselves on the ground, silent and solemn.


    The Young Commander stood quietly, sensing the unspoken meanings in the old General¡¯s speech. At that moment, the passion in his chest did not extinguish, yet he felt a chill. Like a cold bath in winter, suddenly poured over him, instantly alternating between cold and heat, leaving his heart in a melancholy state.


    Balda thought for a while, then suddenly reacted. His eyes widened, and he spoke loudly in disbelief.


    "Your Highness is of the Royal Family¡¯s branch, the King¡¯s nephew, also the King¡¯s son-in-law, and furthermore, the heir of the Alliance! Your Highness is known for your prestigious and virtuous reputation, victorious all along the western campaign, and your fame is indeed remarkable. The battle-hardened King himself presides over the Southern Army and will surely chase down the enemy, hastening through day and night to our aid¡ªhow could he allow the Northern Army to be encircled?!"


    Xiulote remained expressionless, silent. After a while, he looked towards Natali of the Divine Blessing Legion, focusing on the right hand placed around his neck.


    Witnessing this scene, the young Otomi Legion Commander¡¯s gaze flickered with contemplation. Under the trust of His Highness, he had even moved ahead of the Poet Balamo, entering the highest decision-making circle of the Mexica Alliance. Then his eyes met with the indifferent gaze of His Highness, and he suddenly felt cold.


    At that instant, Natali was blessed with an epiphany. He finally loosened his grip on the Sun Amulet, placed both hands on the ground, and his forehead touched the ground, showing his loyalty to the respected His Highness in the traditional Otomi manner.


    "Your Highness, Natali of Xilotepec pledges loyalty to you! To fight for the gods, to die for you!"


    Natali spoke earnestly. His young face, a mixture of devotion and sincerity, resembled intertwining vines in search of the Divine Wood to rely on entirely.


    Xiulote watched his face, standing silently for a moment, then slowly nodded.


    "Natali, in the presence of the Chief Divine, I accept your loyalty and promise you a bright future!"


    Then, Xiulote stepped forward, calmly drawing the Obsidian Dagger from his waist, slashing off half of the prostrate Natali¡¯s hair, and throwing it into the corner of the bonfire. The scent of burnt hair dispersed into the air, mixing with the faint fragrance of sandalwood, creating an indescribable solemnity.


    The tent fell silent for a time as the generals watched without a word. They kept their eyes on the two in the center until the sudden loyalty ceremony was fully concluded, and Natali was formally accepted.


    Balda¡¯s expression was complex, holding his tongue. Only then did the monkey Kuluka speak, diverting away from the heavy topic.


    "In the midst of marching and fighting, many things are uncertain. Military situations often shift unpredictably, and the coordination of the march is difficult to accomplish on time. If the Tarasco Royal Army leaves behind a group of Samurai willing to fight to the death, they indeed could rely on the last stronghold, hindering the advance of the Southern Legion. And after seizing the fortress, the Southern Legion might need to regroup, or perhaps face insufficient supplies and struggle to advance...Your Highness, our army¡¯s march south to besiege the city, aiming for a quick victory, is still somewhat risky!"


    "Spring plowing begins in May; we could first organize civilians and the Militia, distribute food and seeds, and restore cultivation in the controlled areas. These actions to resume farming, regardless of their effectiveness, will surely unite the hearts of the Tarasco civilians. Just as Your Highness mentioned, we¡¯ll bring them to our side, turning them into our friends!"


    ```


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression softened and he nodded. He smiled slightly and looked at the monkey Kuluka, admiringly he said in a deep voice.


    "Monkey, you are indeed intelligent!"


    After that, the Young Commander fell into deep thought. He reconsidered the counsel of his generals, reevaluating the development of the situation and the responses of all parties. After a while, he made his decision and spoke loudly.


    "What the generals said makes sense! Since a swift victory is hard to come by, our army must be cautious. We need to stockpile food at the frontline, concentrate the power of the Samurai, and reduce the number of Militia! Reassign the remaining four thousand Otomi Militia to be stationed at the Rivermouth Fortress, under the command of the Deputy Marshal!"


    If a swift victory could not be achieved, Rivermouth Fortress needed to be cautiously defended. The fortress currently only had the Royal Warriors of Tepopolo and the private soldiers of the western City-States¡¯ Nobility. Xiulote transferred the Otomi Militia to his father, as a direct Force under his command to strengthen the defense of the fortress. This way, on one hand, the consumption of food on the frontline would be reduced, and on the other hand, the balance of powers within the Rivermouth Fortress would be maintained.


    "Reassign the five thousand Tarasco subordinate soldiers from Ezpan to be stationed between the Rivermouth Fortress and Huayamo, and have them stationed on the spot. Order them to clear out the local nobility¡¯s Manors, gather food and supplies, and maintain control and order in the region! Allow him to promote auxiliary Sheriffs from the local civilians, the list needs to be reviewed by the Deputy Marshal of the Rivermouth Fortress!"


    After pondering for a moment, Xiulote issued another order. The Tarasco subordinate soldiers at the frontline always posed certain risks. Since there was no urgency to move southward for the time being, he redeployed those soldiers to the rear to further cleanse the area, which would also improve their loyalty. And with the departure of nearly ten thousand Militia, the pressure on the frontline¡¯s food supply would be greatly reduced, and the elite Samurai Legions would be more flexible, capable of rapid mobilization and striking distances of a hundred miles.


    "Send over a hundred Jaguar warriors to constantly spy on the movements of the northwest Chapala Legion! Determine their specific Samurai ratio, possible marching routes, and look for suitable ambush locations! Have Annatri leave half the Naval Forces to ensure that, around the Cuitzeo Lake region, the Samurai Legion can be quickly assembled!"


    Once calm, Xiulote¡¯s primary target shifted from the Capital City in the south, and the Royal Army further south, to the reinforcements of Chapala in the northwest. This legion was thirty thousand strong, the last field army of Tarasco in the north, and the biggest threat to the rear of the Northern Army. He pondered for a moment, then continued giving orders.


    "Contact the northern merchant caravans, continue to incite the Guamal Canine Descendants to move south, and raid the Chapala Lake Region! I will provide them with a new batch of supplies, and next, they need to unleash all their Force, the larger the scale of the Canine Descendants¡¯ raids, the better! Send another Envoy, have them take a detour from the northern Canine Descendants, and contact the Tekos Northern Tribes, letting them know: the main Legion from the Lake Region has already left, and the local Tarascans are at their weakest! The Mexica Alliance is willing to form an Alliance with them to divide the Chapala Lake Region!"


    Afterward, Xiulote stood with his hands behind his back, staring at the vast south. There lay the plains of the Lake Region, extending as far as the eye could see, convenient for marching. It was not until the Xitaqualo in the southeast that one could find undulating hills and mountains.


    The young man pondered for a moment and then made another decision.


    "Even if we cannot send a large army down south to completely cut off the food supply of the Tarasco Royal Army, we cannot allow their grain route to be smooth! Toltec, replenish your troops as soon as possible, then lead the Longbow Militia south to raid the food transportation outside Patzcuari!"


    "At your command! Black Wolf Toltec will never disappoint the Wolf King!"


    Given the opportunity to lead an army on his own, Toltec was radiant, excited, and seething with the intention to kill.


    "Black Wolf, you should prioritize raids and avoid pitched battles. Be vigilant in your reconnaissance! I will assign you an additional hundred elite Jaguars, to maintain constant contact with Huayamo! If there are any signs of enemy movement from Qinchongcan, report back to me immediately. If you do indeed scout the Royal Army coming from the south, raid them once to roughly determine their troop strength, then swiftly retreat. Do not engage in prolonged combat!"


    "Your Highness, I will follow your will!"


    Toltec¡¯s expression turned serious, he bowed deeply, and solemnly promised. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote extended his hand, patting Black Wolf¡¯s shoulder. Then, he looked around solemnly at everyone and loudly gave the order.


    "Rest of the army¡¯s warriors, be patient in resting, conserve your strength, and wait for the opportunity to strike!"


    Hearing the Marshal¡¯s decision, all the generals bowed their heads in unison, thunderously responding!

 Chapter 385 - 194 The Battle of Takuro Plains Part 1

    January marked the beginning of the New Year, a time for celebration and sacrificial rites. From the start of the month, grand ceremonies occurred successively throughout the regions of Mexico. In every peaceful village and town, Priests sang high, civilians danced joyfully, all celebrating together till the end of the month.


    The Divine Descendants and nobility from the states had no interest in dancing or singing. They dispatched tribute Envoys and sent out discrete spies, questioning passing merchants, and closely monitored the warfare unfolding between the Lerma River and the Tarsus River. Among the world¡¯s mightiest forces, a massive and brutal war was underway between the two longest rivers.


    In distant rumors, it was said that a hundred thousand Samurai were engaged in relentless battle, their clashing so thunderous that flocks of birds scattered in migration, and the converging blood turned the rivers an altered color. At the intense frontline, the nobility perished like wilting flowers, Samurai fell like drops of rain, buried meekly in the earth alongside ordinary civilians!


    Hearing the news from afar, the nobility of the states showed astonishment and harbored anxiety. The more tangible effects were evident in the markets of the City-States.


    Alliances and kingdoms aggressively intercepted merchant caravans and mandated the collection of resources. Fleeing soldiers and rampant outlaws plundered areas, causing merchants to steer clear of the battlegrounds. The war had lasted long, and items like copper ware from Tarasco, dried fish from the Mikenque Lake Region, and medicinal herbs from the western forests were no longer available for purchase. The Mexica Priests exertively controlled the markets of the Alliance states, causing significant reductions in grain and salt from the Valley, not to mention war essentials like shields, cotton armor, and the fragile but lethal Obsidian Clubs.


    Among all the news, the most unexpected was the loss of the northern defenses of the Tarascos Kingdom, with the Mexica Northern Army pressing close to the Capital City! The leaders of the City-States were shocked: "The Mexica have ¡¯divinely gifted¡¯ weapons, conquering all in their path!" In just over half a year, the strong Bronze Ware Kingdom revealed clear signs of decline, unable to resist the Mexica invasion.


    The leaders of the states discussed fervently. They were acutely aware that the outcome of this colossal war would determine the future of the entire world!


    Thus, even more Envoys were dispatched to forge connections with different kingdoms. More spies received orders to gather intelligence on the new weapons of the Mexica. Amidst hurrying travelers, February arrived abruptly.


    February was a fitting season for travel. The warm sunshine splendidly beamed down, the cloudless sky devoid of rain. The ground¡¯s soil turned dry, roadside shrubs shed their leaves, and insects were fewer than during the rainy season. Long marches became easier, especially in the flat Patzcuaro Lake Region.


    Under the golden sunshine, "Feather" Pengguari, adorned in gold and silver garments, donning a magnificent Feather Crown, holding a noble Divine Staff, glittered like a divine envoy. His appearance was striking, demeanor grand, his majesty undeniable, and his movements graceful and composed. Behind him, a grand flag reaching four meters high was held aloft by a Standard Bearer.


    The brand-new flag fluttered in the air, carrying the standard of a Prince, decidedly more exquisite. On the front of the flag was a flying Cherchar bird, with long, beautifully blue-green tail feathers. The back featured an abstract image of three deities, with clear and bright crimson eyes.


    Under the guard of his trusted aides, Pengguari ascended a nearby hillock, spiritedly gazing around. In his view was an endless column of marching troops, a vast army from the Lake Region!


    The Lake Region Samurai were spirited, dressed in patterned cotton armor, carrying Copper Spears, War Clubs, and shields, confidently heading towards the Capital City. The Militia gathered into loose groups, resembling swarms of ants. They traveled by village units, and under the control of Militia Captains, they carried the army¡¯s baggage, holding Long Spears tipped with copper, stone, or bone spearheads, noisily heading east. In the rear, thousands of porters carrying provisions followed, conscripted from nearby villages to maintain the army¡¯s logistics.


    This was a powerful Lake Region army, comprising ten thousand Chapala Samurai and twenty thousand trained Militia! The brave people of Chapala could not be compared to the delicate Patzcuaro. They grew up fighting, resisting the Guamal Canine Descendants from the north and clashing with raiding squads while suppressing the Tecos Tribe to the west, occasionally raiding hostile settlements.


    "This is an army to save the kingdom! And I am the leader of this army, today¡¯s ¡¯Feather¡¯ Prince, tomorrow¡¯s ¡¯Feather¡¯ King!" S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Atop the hillock, Pengguari was filled with passion, looking to the rear. The tributary from Lake Chapala towards the East ended here, marking the end of the convenient marching route. On the river, supply boats were visible in the distance, continuously delivering supplies from the rear. Along the tributary, he had left the Sakap state, also moving beyond the protection of mountains and fortresses, possibly facing the Mexica forces at any moment.


    Thinking of this, Pengguari¡¯s brows furrowed slightly¡ª he vividly remembered a previous encounter on Lake Yuriria. However, land battles differed from those on the lake; Samurai could move and dodge freely. Nearby, vegetation was not lush, providing no fuel for the Mexica¡¯s Fire Arrows.


    He looked forward, seeing a vast plain ahead, with fields that had been cultivated scattered with villages. Traces of past prosperity were faintly visible, now filled with desolation and decay, with no signs of human life or smoke from cooking fires. This area was the edge of the Patzcuaro Lake Region, with Capital City Qinchongcan just a five-day journey away.

 Chapter 386 - 194 The Battle of Takuro Plains Part 2

    The rivermouth fortress had already fallen, so there was no need for him to move along the Lerma River to support it, risking an encounter with the Mexica naval forces. The area around Cuitzeo Lake was controlled by the enemy¡¯s fleet and was no longer safe. The latest envoy brought shocking news: the Mexicans had even captured the Huayamo Fortress, gaining complete control over the north of the Capital City.


    Pengguari carefully considered and repeatedly questioned the scout before he found the safest route to march. The army first moved southward to the small river that connected to Chapala Lake, then proceeded eastward along the river, making their way through the heartland of the Kingdom directly towards the west of the Capital City. By moving in this manner, the army effectively abandoned the opportunity to harass the rear of the Mexicans¡¯ northern army, but it also avoided worrying about its own logistics.


    "Once I reach the Capital City and marry the former king¡¯s princess, I will possess the qualifications to inherit the kingdom!"


    Thinking thus, "Feathers" Pengguari revealed a handsome smile, his eyes sparkling brightly, compelling admiration from those who saw him. The family samurai around him also looked up to the family head standing atop the small hill with respectful gazes.


    However, not everyone admired the new prince. The higher the standing of the Great Nobility, the more they knew about the naval battles at Lake Yuriria, the less they admired him.


    Under the escort of several dozen trusted aides, a Great Noble dressed in lavish clothes and a sky-blue cloak, holding a bronze spear, approached the hill with a fierce look. He glanced at the Prince¡¯s banner behind Pengguari, slightly curled his lips, and then spoke loudly.


    "Respected ¡¯Feathers¡¯, our front-line scouts in the East have spotted rising dust, which should be from the marches of the Mexica¡¯s grand army! We need to quickly get into formation, take the initiative to strike, and prepare to face the glory of war!"


    Pengguari¡¯s expression stiffened. He lifted his head in surprise and looked toward the Great Noble.


    "Respected ¡¯Heavenly Divine¡¯ Ahonda, are you sure you saw the grand army of the Mexica? These days, there have always been Mexica scouts around here, sounding their whistles, but those are just enemy squads. This place is located at the furthest west of the Lake Region, at least one or two hundred miles from the main force of the Mexica stationed at Huayamo Fortress. Has the grand army of the Mexica really appeared in the east?"


    In the Tarasco language, Ahonda means sky. Such a noble name, transmitted through his family, is in no way inferior to Feathers, even perhaps surpassing it!


    Indeed, this was the case. The Heavenly Divine family held a distinguished position in the Chapala Lake Region. Even with the prince¡¯s endorsement, Pengguari was only nominally the Supreme Commander of the lake region¡¯s forces. He could firmly control only five thousand samurai and ten thousand militia. Meanwhile, the blue-clothed Noble Ahonda, standing before him, commanded as many as three thousand samurai and six thousand militia, ranking second in the region¡¯s forces.


    A hint of a faint smile, seemingly carrying silent mockery, appeared on the corners of Ahonda¡¯s mouth. He then spoke in real mockery.


    "Brave and skilled in combat, the ¡¯Feathers¡¯ Prince who vows to never retreat, you are familiar with the real battlefield, surely you know: in this dry season, on such open plains, the traces of a large army¡¯s movement cannot be concealed. With our marching scale, the dust raised envelops the sky and could be easily spotted by enemies even ten miles away or farther! So I do not know why our Prince would detour from the south, taking these needless extra two days of travel."


    "And if the Mexica people wish to attack us, they would also send out an army of more than ten thousand! Their movement could not be concealed either, and the dust in the East would soon be visible here."


    Having said this, the battle-hardened Ahonda looked towards the east, calculated for a moment, and then continued.


    "¡¯Feathers¡¯ Pengguari, we probably have six or seven quarters to prepare and arrange our troops for battle. Then after another two quarters, the two armies will engage in battle. We should launch the initial charge, not giving the opponent the chance to deploy!"


    Pengguari paused momentarily, then also tiptoed to look towards the East. In the distant east, he could indeed see faint dust approaching their direction. He remembered again the might of the Mexica grand army, his heartful of lofty spirits suddenly waned, and his face showed hesitation.


    "Ahonda, after half a day of marching, the army is always somewhat weary. Here, there are no advantageous hillocks to take nor fortified towns to rely on... If we retreat ten or so miles, it leads back to the river from where we came. Relying on the naval forces by the river, we could protect either our left or right wing and promptly assist the commander. Moreover, on the western side of the river, I remember there¡¯s a hill about dozens of meters tall which could give us a strategical advantage...."


    Ahonda listened with a stern face, his expression growing uglier as he listened. Finally, he could not suppress his anger and explosively interrupted the legion commander.


    "Pengguari! When two armies meet, it¡¯s advance with no retreat, merely putting life and death in the hands of Heavenly Divine and fighting head-on! The elite samurai are capable of moving swiftly, so how could these cumbersome militia maneuver in front of an enemy? If you command rashly, and our forces collide, it¡¯s a path to being routed without a fight. Since you have fortuitously become the commander, you must take up the commander¡¯s responsibilities and not issue ridiculous orders!..."


    Cardinals and red hawks both have magnificent feathers. The former only chirp and boast, revealing fear when facing a true wild wolf; the latter, however, spread their wings to soar in the sky, bravely pouncing on the jungle¡¯s black panther! As a noble family from the Lake Region, you must live up to your name and not bring shame to the warriors of Chapala!


    Pengguari¡¯s face turned a mix of purple and red as he tightly gripped his prestigious Divine Staff, almost ready to swing it vigorously. The last Great Nobility who dared to yell at him like this had become a captive of the Mexica, their fate unknown! He frowned, staring at Ahonda in front of him, neither giving an order nor speaking a word.


    Not far behind him, another Great Nobility clad in a silver-white robe, seeing the dispute, hurried over. He wore a smile as warm as a spring breeze and extended both hands to grab the commanders, persuasively speaking with a chuckle.


    "The esteemed ¡¯Feathers¡¯ Prince, the respected ¡¯Sky¡¯ Commander-in-Chief, both of your points are valid! Retreating several miles to the rear is indeed safer, securing advantageous terrain and leading to an invincible position. However, Mexica people are right before us, their numbers yet unknown; retreating without fighting might indeed dampen our spirits. The Lake Region¡¯s grand army is so illustrious; under the leadership of you two commanders, both warriors and militia carry a belief in victory, yearning for a glorious battle! S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seeing the Capital of Qinchongcan is only a few days away, once we defeat the coming enemy, nothing further will stand in our path. Then, everyone will be heroes who saved the Capital! The nobles of the Chapala Lake Region could finally hold their heads high in front of the Capital¡¯s nobility, perhaps even more!"


    Hearing the words of the white-robed nobility, Pengguari¡¯s expression slightly softened. He glared fiercely at Ahonda, who knew his tone had been rather harsh in his urgency and slightly bowed his head, showing compliance and concession. Afterward, Pengguari put a bit of force into pulling his arm free, then offered a small smile to him.


    "Respected ¡¯Silver¡¯ Tekata, your words do make sense. Let me observe the enemy¡¯s military strength!"


    Tekata means silver, symbolizing the divine radiance of the spirits. It is another noble family name. Tekata is the third person in command of the Lake Region¡¯s legion, commanding two thousand warriors and four thousand militia, and is known for being exceedingly warm and approachable. Everyone thus gives him face, maintaining a veneer of unity and harmony among the allied nobility.


    Following that, "Feathers" commander pondered for a moment, then asked the aide beside him who was familiar with the terrain,


    "Where are we now?"


    "Respected Prince, we are between the Chapa region and Lake Patzcuaro, on the plains called Takuro."


    "What does Takuro mean?"


    "Takuro is a resting place, where flocks of birds descend from the sky. Initially, it was a meadow filled with lush aquatic plants. After our ancestors migrated here, driving away wild beasts and cultivating the land, they turned it into fertile fields," the aide quickly recalled, bowing his head and answering in a deep voice.


    Hearing "flocks of birds descend from the sky," "Feathers" Pengguari furrowed his brow deeply; this seemed to be an ill omen, perhaps making this place unsuitable for battle.


    Tekata, observing his reactions, immediately spoke with a beaming smile,


    "Chapala¡¯s eagles descend from the sky, tearing apart the Mexica¡¯s jaguars, sacrificing them to the Mother Goddess of the Earth! Tarasco¡¯s ancestors flattened the lands in the lakes, driving away the invading Mexican beasts, cultivating fertile fields! ¡¯Feathers¡¯ Prince, this is a good omen! We are destined to win this battle!"


    Upon hearing this, "Feathers" Pengguari and "Sky" Ahonda looked at each other and burst into laughter shortly after. Both turned towards the East, where the rising dust was finally becoming visible.


    At the horizon¡¯s end, the Mexica army gradually became evident, their long spears and war clubs glinting coldly. Soon, commands rang out from a hillock, the Tarasco legion began to halt in their tracks, regrouping, their vibrant banners fluttering in the wind. Hence, a great battle was inevitable, and an epic saga began!

 Chapter 387 - 195 The Battle of Takuro Plains Part 2

    The brilliant sunlight fell straight from the sky, illuminating the ant colonies on the earth not far apart, which were the small yet vast formations of two legions. A refreshing breeze swept through, dispersing the raised dust and bringing with it the roars and shouts of the legions.


    The Mexica warriors, draped in vibrant Cotton Armor and Leather Armor, wielded glittering War Clubs and Copper Spears, and their left arms were further equipped with essential Wooden Shields and Rattan Shields. They formed tight ranks and let out loud roars, imitating the cries of eagles and tigers. From time to time, a Warrior Captain, carrying a small flag on his back, would lead the squad members to rhythmically beat the Wooden Shields and shout in unison, deterring the enemy in front of them.


    And the captains of the Temple legion were even more conspicuous. These frenetic warriors with tattooed faces stood at the forefront of the formation, lifting bone-shaped musical instruments and blowing the terrifying Death Whistles. The deep whistle sounds passed, like a haunting ghostly wind, and immediately quieted the Chapala Militia ahead, significantly lowering their morale.


    In the center surrounded by the warriors, there was a quickly constructed wooden high platform. At each corner of the platform stood a Personal Guard Warrior holding a Great Shield, firmly defending the central Commander-in-Chief. At the center, Xiulote in his commanding regal attire, wearing a heavy Feather Crown and carrying the four-meter-tall Black Wolf Banner, stood solemnly on the high platform holding a delicate Spear Flag. He positioned himself at the most conspicuous height, under the largest canopy, ensuring that all warriors could clearly see him¡ªthe heart of the army¡¯s spirit!


    Next to him stood several Messenger Officers, ready at all times and holding various small flags. Behind him was a military band with drums and wooden gongs, holding horns and conches, and with Bone Whistles and copper whistles in their mouths. They were ready at all times to turn the military commands into sounds of various types and rhythms. Military commands need not be melodious; they only need to resound in all directions!


    Xiulote stood solemnly at a considerable height, his expression firm and grave. He watched the Chapala Legion several miles away, quickly estimating the military situation, imprinting the circumstances in his mind.


    The enemy army was fully deployed, with squads and circles stationed in place, arranged in a rough line formation. The Chapala Legion was about thirty thousand in size, with warriors around ten thousand. In their military formation, four warrior squares were most prominent. There was one square on each flank, with the left flank warriors dressed in sky-blue War Clothes, slightly more in number, and the right flank in silver-white War Clothes, slightly fewer. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote observed carefully. The left flank warriors had more Copper Spears, and their formation was more orderly as they were loudly shouting at that time.


    "The left flank is more elite. It seems the enemy favors the left side!"


    The Young Commander nodded slightly and noted this in his mind. He then looked towards the central warriors of the enemy.


    The central warriors of Chapala were divided into front and rear formations, with almost equal numbers in both. They wore patterned War Clothes, gathering as tightly as feathers. From a distance, Xiulote observed that the front formation had more warriors while the rear guard was slightly fewer, resembling a large-headed bird, with the bird¡¯s head precisely where a large Commander¡¯s battle flag stood!


    The battle flag was situated on a small hill, conspicuously placed, with the brilliant Long Feathers of a special bird embroidered on the fluttering flag. A trusted aide familiar with the Tarasco immediately approached, whispering a few words. The Young Commander then nodded steadily and smiled slightly.


    "The Prince¡¯s Commander¡¯s great flag! Chapala¡¯s feathers, we meet again! Congratulations on your promotion, I¡¯ve prepared a new gift for you!"


    At that moment, Xiulote turned smilingly and looked back at the two pine cannons behind him. The cannon barrels had already been loaded, the muzzle sealed with cotton, and the match cord extended long. The surrounding gunmen, carrying fire sources, were also ready.


    The Young Commander estimated in his mind. The enemy¡¯s warriors were around ten thousand, each of the four squares holding between two and three thousand, allowing for flexible command. Following that, his gaze shifted left and right, his pupils slightly constricted.


    On the small hill surrounding the enemy Commander, there were two groups of high-ground-holding Archer Militia, each about two thousand strong. The Militia formed rough squares, anxiously checking the bows and arrows in their hands, evidently well-trained.


    Xiulote carefully examined those tiny figures and the nearly man-high Wooden Bows, feeling somewhat relieved. Most of these Chapala Militia archers used Tlaxcala Wooden Bows, with a few crude Hunting Bows; their threat to warriors in Cotton Armor was usually only effective within thirty steps. Even though they had the high ground, their effective killing range extended only a little beyond forty steps, unless their archery skills were extraordinary.


    The Chapala legion placed warrior squares at its core, surrounded by large groups of assembled Militia and scattered supervisory teams. Under the leadership of village leaders, Chapala¡¯s Militia gathered by village units. They wore clothes, held high Stone Spears and Stone Hammers, mixed with slings for throwing stones, loosely formed into groups. At this moment, the Militia were engaging in chaotic loud shouting, countering the terrifying cries of the Death Whistle, seeming to maintain decent morale, yet their specific numbers were difficult to discern.


    Xiulote swiftly estimated, adding the reports from the Scouts, and roughly had the numbers in his mind. Around four thousand close-combat Militia flanked each side of Chapala¡¯s warrior squares. In front of the warriors were four thousand stone-throwers and four thousand close-combat Militia. Accompanied by four thousand archers in the rear formation, the total was around twenty thousand. As for further behind the formations, those who kept far away and flickered dimly were probably unarmed logistics workers.


    Having grasped the enemy¡¯s deployment, the Young Commander no longer hesitated. He swiftly waved the command flag, issuing orders. The Mexica legion also made slight adjustments and fully deployed.


    Under the Black Wolf¡¯s banner, there was a three thousand-strong shooting legion composed of Longbow Personal Guards, Archer warriors, and Temple Crossbowmen, plus four hundred Jaguar Warriors guarding the left and right as the Personal Army of the Commander. The main body of Warrior Militia was then deployed in front, forming five parallel squares.

 Chapter 388 - 195 The Battle of Takuro Plains Part 2

    The central army was composed of three thousand five hundred fervent Holy City warriors, organized tightly under the roaring leadership of Commander Olosh. On each flank were four thousand warriors armed with long spears. The spear warriors were silent, arrayed in tight and orderly phalanxes, their spears slanting forward. The left flank was under the command of "Monkey" Kuluka, and the right, temporarily pulled back, was under Ezpan. Further out, the outer perimeters of both wings were entrusted to the warrior legions of the western City-States, approximately two thousand on each side. They held shields and war clubs, shouting loudly, looking quite formidable.


    For this battle, Xiulote had gathered a maximal force, conscripting warriors from everywhere possible. The four thousand troops from the western City-States had been pulled from the Rivermouth fortress, quickly transported by the naval army. He dared not entrust the task of confronting the enemy warriors to these nobility militias; instead, he directed them against the militia of Chapala. When faced with weaker foes, these City-State warriors always thoroughly demonstrated their fighting prowess.


    Just behind the frontline formations were three thousand warriors of the Religious Legion on standby. The Divine warriors and Temple Guards stood opposite each other, praying softly. Chants praising the Chief Divine echoed through the ranks, soothing the warriors¡¯ spirits and elevating their combat will. These three thousand fanatical religious warriors were like sharp daggers, once thrust fiercely forward into the enemy¡¯s body, they could not be withdrawn.


    Xiulote personally instructed the two generals to reserve the three thousand religious warriors for a decisive charge at a critical moment. Next to the Religious Legion, there stood two "Divinely Gifted" weapons, mighty wooden cannons that produced thunderous booms. Clay tribulus did not consistently perform well and were unfit for the rapidly changing conditions of field warfare, so the young leader brought these two "big whips".


    Although called wooden cannons, they resembled oversized shotguns. Within eighty steps, they wrecked havoc on soldiers in regular clothes, within forty, those in cotton armor, and only within twenty could they kill elite warriors armored in leather with wooden shields. They could fire only once or twice per quarter-hour. However, the shotgun¡¯s effective firing range was broad, covering several steps to either side. Moreover, for the enemy encountering them for the first time, the immense booming was an absolute morale destroyer, as if myth had come to life!


    To prepare the warriors from various states, Xiulote had held a large sacrificial rite before the army¡¯s departure. The wooden cannons, as weapons bestowed by the Chief Divine, were engraved with abstract divine patterns and made a shining entrance under everyone¡¯s gaze. Subsequently, amid the thunderous roars, the warriors were awed, bowing before the God of Thunder¡¯s weaponry. Led by the Priests, they swiftly transformed their fear of the unknown into devout faith in the divine, accepting the presence of these new weapons.


    At this moment, the Religious Legion guarded these two Divinely Gifted weapons as fervently as they protected their faith!


    Xiulote surveyed his forces: over thirteen thousand warriors, eight thousand spear troops, plus a battery with two wooden cannons ¡ª this was the grand Mexica army in his command! Satisfied, he nodded, waved the splendid battle flag, and the earth-shaking war drums began to sound. The Mexica warriors lowered their war clubs, the spear troops hoisted their long spears, and together they stepped deliberately and orderly toward the enemy across from them.


    On the opposite hill, the Prince¡¯s banner flew high. "Feathers" Pengguari stared intensely at the opposing Black Wolf banner, making a resolute vow. He was determined to wash away the disgrace of retreating without battle, to seize the enemy Marshal¡¯s flag, to prove to all the Chapala nobility:


    "I ¡¯Feathers¡¯ Pengguari, am a true warrior! A Commander-in-Chief capable of victory! And the undeniable King of the Tarasco people!"


    Pengguari tightly gripped the Divine Staff in his hand, then swung it vigorously forward. His eyes shone with a chilling light. If the enemy¡¯s longbow held the range advantage, let the militia use up all the arrows!


    With the battle flag forward and the attack drum sounding, four thousand Tarasco stone-throwing militia, arrayed in a loose formation, hastily advanced toward the Mexica¡¯s army. Then, standing fifty steps away, they swung their slings, erupting into chaotic shouts, hurling a sky-full of whistling stones into the dense formation.


    Facing the incoming lightly armoured stone throwers, Xiulote furrowed his brow. He commanded the army to halt, suppressing the warriors¡¯ urge to charge, maintaining the orderly formation. He then loudly ordered "Raise shields to defend," and the Messenger Officer quickly lifted the flag, running and shouting the command.


    In the hearts of the soldiers, the Marshal¡¯s authority was supreme, and his commands were indisputable. The warriors promptly raised their wooden shields, lowered their heads adorned with rattan helmets, and silently endured the barrage of stones. Occasionally, a stone would pierce through a gap, striking the warriors¡¯ cotton armor or even their exposed faces. After two rounds of stone throwing, dozens of warriors were slightly injured, several bled from mouths and noses, and a few were gravely wounded or killed.


    Xiulote again waved the command flag. The three thousand personal army troops immediately set their bows, raised their crossbows, and from a hundred steps away launched arrows at the stone throwers. Within moments, thousands of arrows, carrying sharp cries, obstructed the sky briefly before raining down into the militia below.


    Over two hundred Tarasco militia screamed simultaneously as they were pierced by the powerful long arrows, pinned in various strange poses on the ground. They wore only their thin shirts, utterly defenseless against the longbows and powerful crossbows. A hit meant severe injury, and at this time, severe injury meant death! Driven by fear, the stone-throwing militia became even more disorganized, showing signs of breaking ranks.


    The Young Commander kept the command flag steady. The three thousand personal army troops continued firing, shooting three more volleys. The expensive arrows swept elegant and merciless arcs, "whistling" into the enemy¡¯s formation, piercing Chapala militia bodies, blooming over four hundred crimson flowers. The four thousand stone throwers quickly broke and turned, running towards the rear. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 389 - 195: Battle of the Takuro Plains Part 3

    Xiulote silently counted the enemies left in front of their formation, frowning once again. After the first volley, the formation of the militia was extremely loose, and four volleys of arrow rain killed just over six hundred people. And the three thousand crossbowmen had used up a staggering twelve thousand expensive arrows¡ªtwenty arrows for one militia, no matter how you look at it, it was a losing deal!


    The young commander¡¯s face was as still as water. He commanded the advancing army, with the samurai moving slowly. However, the enemy¡¯s taskmasters showed no mercy, killing the leading stone-throwing militiamen who tried to flee and once again compelling the militia to move forward, driving them to continue harassing the Mexica battle lines.


    Xiulote waved the command flag. Two thousand five hundred longbow warriors stepped directly out of the formation, and at a distance of forty to fifty steps, they fired precisely at the enemy. The flat trajectory of the longbows packed a huge punch, akin to deadly thunderbolts! But after four volleys, the foremost rank of the clad militiamen lay dead, over a thousand in number, along with several dozen taskmaster Chapala warriors, all tumbling into the dust. The vigorous life force flowed, soaking through the flapping clothes, filling the air with the stench of blood.


    Then, the loud sound of gongs and drums rang out as four hundred elite Jaguar Warrior Brigade charged from the formation, pouncing on the demoralized stone-throwing militia. With sweeps of their war clubs, the militia twisted and fell to the ground, and the survivors, terrified, ran back. The Jaguar warriors skillfully wielded their clubs, driving the remaining two thousand routed troops towards the enemy¡¯s samurai formation, towards the central commander¡¯s flag. Just when they came within forty to fifty steps of the formation, the enemy archers on the small hill released their arrows simultaneously, and the routed troops instantly fell in droves, then scattered to the paths on either side, driven by the front-line samurai.


    In this rapid and merciless hail of arrows, a few Jaguar warriors also fell, shot through, their fate unknown. Seeing the enemy samurai coming to meet them, the elite Jaguar Warrior Brigade no longer tested the waters and turned around to retreat. The enemy samurai gave chase for only forty to fifty steps before returning to the security of their solid formation at the foot of the hill, as bows from archers protected them.


    Xiulote nodded in approval. In the fierce battlefield, only the elite Jaguar warriors could remain calm and composed, mastering their retreat, something other warriors could not achieve. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He then saw the flags on the opposite side wave again; thousands of militiamen in loose formation approached the Mexica battle lines. He watched carefully, noticing that the few front ranks of militia were wielding stone-throwing spears, posing a significant threat to the samurai.


    The young commander had no choice but to wave his hand again, and the longbow warriors continued to fire an incessant rain of arrows, slaughtering the enemy¡¯s militia into various shapes. Every so often, militiamen charged to the front line, hurling powerful javelins that forcefully knocked down the front-rank samurai. Blood red spread from both sides of the battle lines until the ground became a sea of red, and the screams before death echoed between heaven and earth, followed by silence.


    On the opposite hill, the "Feathers" flag waved like long feathers, and the formation of samurai stood as solid as mountains. Among the Chapala Legion, dozens of priests kindled the blue Sacred Fire, igniting the twining divine smoke, and danced feverishly. They sustained the morale of the army, extolling the Moon Goddess Halatana, offering batch after batch of militia to Her Divine Kingdom in prayers for the victory bestowed by the Goddess!


    Arrows from the archers brought forth copious blood, while hurled javelins pierced the bodies of the samurai. Amid the blinding red, the hearts of the commanders on both sides were as hard as stone. The long period of probing finally came to an end as the feathered arrows gradually thinned, and the true fierce battle commenced at this moment!

 Chapter 390 - 196 The Battle of Takuro Plains Part 2

    The long wind howled, blowing over the battlefield strewn with agonized screams. The brilliant sunlight illuminated the vibrant, bloody conflict.


    From the sky above, two vast legions let out earth-shaking cries, converging like swarms of ants into tight formations. The Chapala Legion occupied a small hill with a tactical advantage, with ten thousand samurai firmly stationed on and around the hill, four thousand militia archers prepared their bows from on high, and twelve thousand militia advanced to harass the enemy.


    The harassing militia, two thousand strong in each wave, spread out in a loose formation. Under the hail of longbow arrows, they threw stones and Stone Spears, causing trivial casualties, only to be repeatedly pinned down before the formation, their blood dyeing the red mud. From time to time, militia wailed as they broke and retreated, only to be corralled by the samurai behind them, who then forcefully coerced them to charge forward once more!


    Watching this tragic scene, Xiulote was expressionless. He observed the enemy army, witnessing the frenzied dance of the rival Priest atop the hill, listening to the fervent calls to the names of their heathen gods, and scrutinizing the enemy forces. With the boost from their religious ceremonies, the Chapala samurai on the hill appeared calm and collected, completely undisturbed by the death and injury of their militia, as if they were mere spectators of a grand sacrifice.


    "I truly underestimated these Chapala Great Nobility! To deplete the Longbows¡¯ arrows, they use the lives of their militia as mere fodder!"


    The Young Commander frowned, listening to the Archery Corps¡¯ report on their arrow reserves and nodded slightly. Soon, the dense barrage of arrows thinned out, and the Longbow Warriors retreated behind the lines to recover their strength and cease firing.


    Next, Xiulote issued a command with the wave of a flag, and the intense beat of the war drums immediately followed, signaling the samurai¡¯s formation to slowly march forth.


    Under the cover of shields, the Mexica legion steadily advanced, destroying every enemy that stood in their way! The Spear Formation erected porcupine-like Long Spears, while the Holy City Legion raised their tortoise-like club shields. Amid the militia¡¯s harassment and the onslaught of javelins and stones, they moved forward with solemn determination. It wasn¡¯t long before the frontline Chapala militia had thrown their last javelins, wielding Stone Hammers and Stone Spears, erupting in frenzied cries as they fiercely charged.


    Guardsman Guzman, clad in Paper Armor and wearing a Rattan Helmet, stood close to the front at the center of the dense Spear Formation. His left hand held a shield, guarding the ally to his left, while his right hand, clasping a Spear, rested on the shoulder of the comrade before him. Everyone was pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, spear braced against spear, slowly inching forward. Overhead, arrows whooshed past, as well as incoming stones and javelins, striking the sturdy rattan helmets and hefty shields. The stones were harmless, but the javelins posed some danger. Occasionally, someone would cry out in agony and fall to the ground, their exact location and identity unknown.


    Guzman sniffed the air, filled with a thick, almost tangible stench of blood mingled with the familiar scent of his comrades¡¯ sweat. The ground under his feet was sticky, and now and then, he stepped on something soft that might still twitch. But he could not stop, nor could he look around. He was limited to a narrow field of vision, his gaze fixed on the enemy directly ahead, commanding the Spear Formation to keep moving forward, forward, and further forward!


    Once the Spear Formation set into motion, it did not stop. Nearly half a year of rigorous and complex training turned each man¡¯s actions into muscle reflex, fusing them into a single entity. Now, Guzman was the brain and eyes of the formation. He saw countless figures charging from the front, their flimsy cloth garb, the swinging stone Short Spears, and finally, the contorted, screaming faces, rapidly magnifying before his eyes!


    In that moment, Guzman¡¯s mind went blank, and his ears heard nothing. Slightly bewildered, he continued to lead the Spear Formation forward until it suddenly halted with a thud, having struck something!


    Shrill screams erupted beside him, snapping the dazed Guzman back to reality. Opening his eyes, he saw that the very front of the formation was impaled with rows upon rows of Long Spears, five layers thick, now with two layers of bodies! No, the skewered were not yet corpses, only future ones. They writhed and wailed, bleeding and crying, until pushed further in by those behind them, until they lay motionless.


    Seeing this gruesome scene jolted Guzman. The formation halted, he was now pressing against the front row, pushing forward as those behind him also pushed. Then, driven by the inertia of long training, he suddenly remembered his duty. Quickly, the young captain stuffed the Bone Whistle into his mouth and blew sharp, rapid blasts while bellowing through the whistle,


    "Toot, toot, thrust! Toot, toot, retrieve!... Toot, toot, thrust! Toot, toot, retrieve!..."


    The frontline Pike Warriors braced against the enemy¡¯s charge, while the second and third rows of Militia Pikes stabbed through the gaps, sinking into the soft bodies, then swiftly pulling back. The fourth and fifth rows held their Spears high, mechanically stabbing downward from above the shoulders of those in front. Some spears hit the enemy¡¯s heads, others pierced the thin necks, most missed. Behind the fifth row, the sixth and seventh rows held their shields aloft to guard against an arrow shower that had yet to come, with the rear Militia pressed close together, pushing forward in unison. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Guzman was behind the fifth row. As a squad leader, he continually watched the front, as wave after wave of militia surged forward, repelled by the Spear Formation before being killed by the Spears from different angles with varying cries of pain. Then, these gradually cooling bodies, still oozing warm blood, succumbed without resistance, causing no harm. They either remained hanging from the Spears or collapsed directly onto the ground, soon motionless, like turkeys strung up and prepped for a festival feast.

 Chapter 391 - 196 The Battle of Takuro Plains Part 3

    "It seems I haven¡¯t yet tasted turkey... Does it have this kind of gamey taste?"


    The former gold miner unconsciously licked his lips, sampling the splattered blood. Then he shuddered deeply, his face filled with the bewilderment that follows slaughter.


    The spear formation maintained an unusual silence as they mechanically killed in silence. Silence was a habit of the legion, facilitating the relay of commands from captains. The new troops thrust out their long spears, slowly and effectively killing the enemy, partaking in a collective slaughter without even glimpsing the faces of their opponents.


    Guzman felt the morale of his comrades waning, looking at their somewhat glazed eyes, experiencing the same bewilderment as himself. It was everyone¡¯s first time participating in such a massive field battle, the first time engaging in large-scale killing, where life and death blinked in an instant! He felt the silent atmosphere of the formation and believed he had to do something!


    The young captain thought quickly and blew the bone whistle urgently.


    "Toot toot! Priest, speak, sing!"


    The priest in the center of the formation was also young, vigorously pushing forward with his companions. Hearing the captain¡¯s call, he hesitated, then sang out a couple of lines he had memorized.


    "The Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli is supreme and mighty, omnipotent! Those who believe shall be saved and ascend to the Divine Kingdom!... Praise the Chief Divine! He bestows us with food, we shall fight for Him!"


    Hearing the familiar prayers, the spear militia gradually regained some vitality. The militiamen thrust their long spears, killing the strange enemy, while muttering to themselves.


    "To be saved and ascend to the Divine Kingdom! Praise the Chief Divine, fight for Him!"


    The intense confrontation seemed to last only a moment, yet also seemed to drag on for a long time. Not until the enemy before them suddenly cried out and then turned tail and fled did Guzman finally heave a sigh of relief. He stared blankly at the corpses scattered in front of him, at his comrades dyed red, stood motionless for a moment, then also murmured. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I am saved, I ascend to the Divine Kingdom... I praise the Chief Divine, I fight for Him..."


    Then, once again, the thunderous beat of war drums sounded from the rear; Guzman abruptly straightened up and put the bone whistle to his lips again.


    "Toot toot toot! Advance, advance!"


    Under the flag of the "Black Wolf," Xiulote stood erect on a high platform, looking towards the fiercely battling frontline.


    The spear formation didn¡¯t disappoint him. The tightly-knit formation faced the scattered enemy militia with almost no injury, crushing them utterly, even less than the samurais had suffered! Soon, the Chapala militia in front of them broke and fled in a rout, and the spear formation advanced again at a tortoise¡¯s pace, yet with an overbearing force!


    Under the parallel fire of arrows, the stabbing of spears, and the assault of the samurais, the twelve thousand Chapala militia suffered heavy casualties and morale plummeted rapidly. They had already broken ranks several times, losing over four thousand men. The dense corpses lay in front of both armies¡¯ lines, kicked aside by both samurais and militiamen. On the blood-stained grass, long spears and war clubs advanced alternately, time and again defeating the enemy militia.


    In the last wave, two thousand militiamen reached the front, vigorously throwing a volley of javelins, killing dozens of Mexica warriors. Then the warriors of the Holy City let out a cry, engaging fiercely and briefly. In less than a quarter-hour, two to three hundred militiamen fell to the ground, beaten into various wrecks by the war clubs. As the spear formations on both sides closed in slowly, the Chapala militia let out a cry of fear and suddenly collapsed, fleeing toward the rear formation.


    The Samurai of Chapala waved their flags and copper spears, loudly guiding the Militia to the rear of the small hill, where they regrouped in formation. The battle lines of both groups of Samurai gradually drew near like intertwining serpents, swiftly closing to within a hundred paces!


    Xiulote watched the unfolding battle without blinking. Soon, he forcefully waved the Spear Flag in his hand, a short, spiraling call followed by a loud blast of the horn.


    The Mexica Samurai halted in succession. They erected their great shields, lowered their sturdy helmets, and stood around fifty to sixty paces from the enemy in front. Following them, the crossbowmen, panting, began to fire upwards. Within moments, a dense rain of arrows rose from the enemy¡¯s front, aiming for the "Feathers" of the Commander¡¯s Flag atop the small hill!


    As the incoming arrow rain approached, "Feathers" Pengguari¡¯s eyes narrowed, and he immediately crouched down to hide behind his protectors¡¯ shields. Then, he sensed something amiss, naturally stood up, and calmly looked downslope. He was at the highest point of the small hill, draped in the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s War Clothes, with Leather Armor underneath and surrounded by trusted aides with raised shields; he actually had no need to fear the enemy¡¯s arrow rain.


    As expected, the volley of arrows passed with a slanted trajectory, mostly hitting the tightly defended front line of Samurai, only felling dozens of Chapala Samurai. The lengthy Feathered Arrows "whooshed" in, sticking into the raised shields with a "thud" sound, intermittently mixed with the "thwack" of arrows piercing flesh and the cries of the grievously wounded.


    Only a few hundred short crossbow bolts could rise to sufficient height, striking towards the denser rear ranks of Samurai. The stout bolts "zipped" past, embedding deeply into the trusted aides¡¯ Great Shields. Occasionally, the bolts would penetrate gaps, skewering the faces of trusted aides, and bringing down one or two unlucky family Samurai.


    Pengguari, watching the crossbow bolts whistling overhead, paused slightly, his expression changing. He took a shield from a trusted aide, shielded himself in front, and then quietly moved two steps away, distancing himself from the Commander¡¯s Flag.


    Afterwards, the "Feathers" Commander looked towards the front of the formation, his eyebrows deeply furrowed. On both flanks of the Mexica side, there were four thousand dense Spear Formations, which easily crushed the attacking Militia with very little loss. This kind of formation was similar to the Long Spears units established by King Su¡¯angua, but their equipment was significantly better.


    Pengguari pondered briefly, noting the enemy within an extreme shooting range of fifty to sixty paces, then waved the Divine Staff, pointing forward.


    Soon, Militia Archers on the flanks received the order, releasing waves of volleyed Feathered Arrows. Four thousand simple Wooden Arrows cut through the sky, pattering onto the dense Spear Formation like raindrops, entering unprotected faces and instantly felling dozens of Militia. Screams of agony rose nearby as Guzman hastily ducked and blew his Bone Whistle.


    "Toot toot! Raise the shields, lower your heads!"


    Hearing the command, the Militia in front raised their shields overhead while those in the back covered the flanks. The spearmen in the Spear Formation raised their Spears as the Militia ducked their heads, and the second volley of Feathered Arrows arrived on schedule, causing only scattered casualties. Two more rounds of arrow rain came, and the Mexica crossbowmen in the back returned the favor with a volley of Longbows. The powerful Feathered Arrows shot up and down, piercing the clothed Militia Archers, causing an instantaneous two to three hundred casualties, and the small hill erupted with awful cries!


    Seeing the effect of the arrows, "Feathers" Pengguari cursed under his breath, his face showing outrage.


    "Greatbows with extreme range, Crossbows firing far, ignited Fire Arrows... and now even equipping Militia with War Armor, shields, and helmets! Mexican Valley, just how affluent are you?!"


    Feathered Arrows came once more, toppling the archers around him amidst a circle of screams. The "Feathers" Commander waved his hand irritably, and his trusted aides, carrying copper spears, stepped in to silence all the noise. Then, he waved the commanding flag once more. Five hundred Great Shield Personal Guards advanced on each side, protecting the firing archers on one side and implementing strict supervision of the battle on the other.


    Afterwards, Pengguari observed the Mexica legions. Seeing that the arrow rain was thinning out, he finally revealed a satisfied smile. At the Rivermouth Fortress, he had already tested the Mexica Longbows and knew the shortcomings of these Greatbows. Although the Longbows had a long range and powerful force, the Arrows were very expensive, requiring sturdy wooden shafts and costly feathers. For such heavy bows, ordinary arrows were simply not suitable!


    "As long as I exhaust your supply of Arrows, I shall have nothing to fear!" Pengguari confidently said with a smile. Suddenly, his smile froze, and he looked puzzled towards the front. Before the two armies¡¯ formations, the Mexica were holding torches, pushing forward two logs wrapped with Copper Hoops, their openings aimed right at him!

 Chapter 392 - 197 The Battle of Takuro Plains Continued

    ``` S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The golden sunlight fell upon the crimson battlefield, like the gaze of divine beings, watching over the lively sacrifice. The thunderous shouts of war suddenly rose loudly, as if it were a heavenly ritual, reaching its climax in an instant.


    Xiulote surveyed the surroundings. The two legions were like dueling samurai, gripping their weapons tightly, already at the most dangerous distance amidst a gaze filled with intent to kill!


    On the outermost flanks, two thousand warriors from the western city-states faced four thousand Chapala militiamen. The enemy militia shouted aloud, approaching within thirty paces, hurling volleys of spears mixed with stone and wood. The muffled sound of the air being pierced rushed forth, "whoosh," felling dozens of Mexica samurai.


    Facing the enemy¡¯s assault, the warriors of the western states could no longer hold themselves back. Raising their war clubs high, they let out a continuous roar, pouncing like a pack of wolves, charging ferociously!


    The nobility from various states charged in the forefront, carrying various battle banners on their backs, skillfully swinging their obsidian-studded clubs. With powerful chops, they sliced open the enemy¡¯s chests, creating wounds up to a meter long. With precise blows, they accurately hit their opponents¡¯ heads, distorting them into various twisted shapes. Occasionally, they would knock an enemy to the ground and then, raising their clubs high, execute a threatening execution at the enemy¡¯s neck!


    At such times, the samurai of the noble families would gather around the family head. They protected the family head while paying attention to the ritual of honor. When a vibrant blossom of blood burst forth, the nobles once again raised their weapons high, and the samurai erupted into fervent cheers of praise, drowning out the pitiful echoes of screams. This was an ancient battlefield ritual, a symbol of the nobility¡¯s personal valor, similar to the honor of capturing prisoners!


    However, even in the face of fierce Mexica samurai, the Chapala militiamen also showed considerable bravery, with a willingness to fight to the death reminiscent of canine descendants.


    A young noble from the Tlalocan city-state knocked down a militiaman with his club. He then stopped his charge, looking around, as the samurai of his family gathered around him. The young noble, seeing the enemy struggling helplessly on the ground, carelessly put down his club and took out the more glorious Obsidian Dagger. Then, stepping forward, he raised the glittering dagger high, and in the sight of all, knelt on one knee and plunged it fiercely toward the enemy¡¯s heart!


    But the militiaman on the ground suddenly rolled away, avoiding the incoming dagger. The dagger plunged deep into the earth, bringing a slight "put" sound. The young noble¡¯s hand came up empty, and he was startled when a pair of strong hands grabbed him from the side. The wounded militiaman held the noble tightly, and without hesitation, opened his mouth and bit into the young noble¡¯s neck, bypassing the sturdy Leather Armor!


    The young noble screamed in agony, dropping the dagger from his hand and desperately pushing against the militiaman on top of him. A young samurai from his family hurriedly rushed forward, swinging his war club wildly, striking the militiaman. The pained militiaman bared his teeth fiercely and, with a "crunch," bit down, as blood flowed "whoosh" from the corners of his mouth and the noble¡¯s scream abruptly became more shrill.


    Another older samurai of the family frowned slightly and pushed aside the young samurai in front of him. He drew the dagger from his waist and stabbed precisely into the militiaman¡¯s back. With a single twist, the militiaman lost all his strength and soon lay motionless. The samurai quickly grabbed the militiaman¡¯s jaw, carefully prying open his teeth, and dragging him off the noble. The noble¡¯s voice gradually weakened, the blood gushed from his neck, soaking the family banner behind him. In just a moment, he was completely silent.


    Looking at the noble who had died in battle, the samurai of his family exchanged glances, speechless amidst the intense battlefield. The old family warrior turned to the young samurai.


    "Izel, why did you swing your war club recklessly just now instead of using your dagger to help your brother?!"


    "Respected Head Warrior, this is my first battle. I only remembered your teaching: on the battlefield, hold tightly onto your war club, never let go until death!"


    Izel answered respectfully, yet with a tinge of relief in his expression.


    The Head Warrior stared deeply into Izel¡¯s eyes, then looked around and spoke quickly in a low voice.


    "The Family Head is far in Tlalocan. The legitimate eldest son has died gloriously on the Tarasco battlefield, heading to the infinitely beautiful Divine Kingdom. Now, according to custom, let Izel from the junior branch take up the family¡¯s battle standard and continue the unfinished divine war!"


    The battlefield allows no hesitation, and the melee continues. The Chapala militia, wielding their stone hammers and clubs, pounced almost frantically and entangled with the warriors of the western states. Militia fell in groups, and occasionally a samurai was surrounded and killed. Thunderous shouts echoed around, with a merciless fight determining the true warriors.


    In this corner of the battlefield, the family warriors nodded silently. Izel happily removed his brother¡¯s battle banner, quickly tied it to his back, and took the first step in the rise of his life!


    And at the center of the battlefield, two weapons of the new era were about to unleash the first roar on the battlefield!


    On a high platform several meters high, Xiulote looked toward the flanks, listening to the intense fighting amidst the wind, his brows furrowing slightly.


    Facing the militia¡¯s attack, the city-state warriors on the flanks had initiated a charge on their own, falling into entangled combat. The nobility of various states struggled to command, still engaged in the intense warfare and performing the ancient and inappropriate battlefield rituals. Even as the supreme Marshal, he was helpless against these city-state nobility.


    ```

 Chapter 393 - 197 The Battle of Takuro Plains Continued Part 2

    "The Chapala militia indeed are fierce. City-State nobility are really unreliable!... Fortunately, I have the true Thunderbolt to rely on, the truth that will soon dominate the world!" Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Thinking this, the Young Commander smiled and looked ahead. The wooden frames of the two cannons were finally fixed, the muzzles aimed at the enemy¡¯s square formation on the hill, with the artillerymen erecting ready red flags. Then he looked towards the hill, "Feathers" flag below, Chapala warriors in tight formation, taking up a solid defensive stance.


    Xiulote hesitated no more, waving the command flag in high spirits, pointing towards the enemy Marshal on the hill! The piercing blast of the copper whistle followed, and the cannon team¡¯s gunners quickly lit the match cord, then covered their ears and crouched two steps away from the wooden cannons.


    "Boom!!!" A thunderous roar resonated through heaven and earth, causing all the fierce combat to fall silent in an instant. Izel had just taken the first step in his rise in life when he collapsed bowing, terrified by the terrifying roar of the God of Thunder. Lying on the ground trembling, he lifted his head to look back at the recently thundering divine weapon.


    Amidst the tremendous booming, the cannon barrel leaped backward, and a wisp of smoke rose from its mouth, like a Divine Beast roaring. This was his second time witnessing the divine weapon¡¯s display of power, and he always felt it was a living creature, like the mythical spirits with Divine Power. Izel couldn¡¯t help but lower his head, silently praying to the mythical creature.


    "Oh Divine Beast of Thunderbolt, grant me victory in battle, so I may take the position of Family Head!"


    The booming wooden cannon fired off a stone shot, with immense might, crossing a distance of fifty paces to strike the Chapala center troop!


    The scatter shot flew, instantly knocking down four or five warriors in front. The powerful stone shot penetrated sturdy Leather Armor, piercing soft bodies and smashing unprotected faces. The warriors had no time to moan before they fell distorted and mangled, spilling a large pool of red. Next, the spreading stone fragments, like rain in the rainy season, hit the warriors within a dozen paces, "bang bang" making noise, kicking up clouds of dust.


    Faced with the weapon that spanned eras, the Chapala warriors were completely shocked. Listening to the thunderous roar, filled with an unknown fear, they stood stunned looking at the smoking Divine Beast several dozen paces away. At this moment, no one paid attention to how many were dead or injured. They were just desperately screaming in their hearts.


    "What is this?!"


    The "Feathers" Commander of Chapala was in chaos, pointing at the wooden cannon directly opposite him, asking frantically.


    "Priest! What is this? An Evil Demon of the Mexica?!"


    No one answered the Marshal¡¯s questions, only frightened and disorderly shouts and hasty, confused prayers. Then another roar of thunder, the second wooden cannon aimed carefully, firing directly at the enemy¡¯s Commander¡¯s Flag on the hill!


    The sprayed stone shot flew across seventy paces, violently striking the rear ranks of the warriors. The distance of this shot was slightly longer, and it didn¡¯t cause much effective damage. Several warriors in front, holding up shields against arrows, were knocked down by the oncoming scatter shot. Then they rolled around in disarray on the ground, their Cotton Armor studded with stones that had just pierced through, crying out in fear.


    In the thundering sound, the surrounding warriors knelt down in fear, loudly begging the roaring Divine Beast for mercy. The flying mud and stone splashed ten paces away, spraying Pengguari¡¯s face and causing painful impacts where they struck. The "Feathers" Marshal was shocked, suddenly falling on the ground, still pointing forward, continuing to scream in dread.


    "Evil Demon! The Mexica¡¯s Evil Demon!"


    Along with the two epoch-shaking cannon blasts, only a dozen or so Chapala warriors fell wounded or dead, yet tens of thousands were left stunned and soul-shocked!


    With the wooden cannon position as the center, the Tarasco warriors and militia were thrown into disarray, engulfed in chaos. Many warriors knelt on the ground, dropping their weapons, praying in terror to the enemy¡¯s Divine Beast! Even more warriors, with fear and confusion on their faces, bowed their heads weakly, praying for forgiveness from the three gods! The militia in the rear, just gathering together, were shocked by the thunder of the cannon fire, entering the brink of collapse once more! While in the distant outskirts, Mexica warriors and Chapala militia ceased fighting, reverently watching the army center, fearful of the unknown!


    The sound of cannon fire echoed between heaven and earth. The Mexica legion at the center was prepared, bursting into a loud cheer.


    "The Chief Divine descends, bestowing the highest Divine Power! Invincible Divine Might, assured victory in divine warfare!!!"


    Cheers originated from the devout Divine Blessing Legion first, followed by the zealous Temple Guards, then the excited Holy City Samurai, and finally reached the sternly-arranged Spear Legion. Amidst the cheers of the Mexica people, the morale of the Chapala Legion once again plummeted, and the Samurai turned their heads in extreme unease. They looked toward the majestic Commander-in-Chief, gazed at the sacred Priesthood, waiting for a convincing explanation.


    Xiulote surveyed the situation quickly. The wooden cannons were being reloaded, and it would be nearly a quarter hour before they could fire again. The morale of the Mexica legion was at its peak, the enemy¡¯s morale at its lowest, the charge was at this moment!


    The Young Commander made his decision. He raised the fluttering Spear Flag, swung it forcefully in a circle, and then resolutely pointed forward!


    "All forces, charge!!!"


    The deep war drums beat fiercely, accompanied by the urgent and uplifting sound of flutes. The Mexica legion erupted in a tremendous roar, like hunting Jaguars, charging toward the prey ahead!


    The Holy City Legion, carrying War Clubs high, screamed and charged at the forefront. They rushed into the front of the Chapala center army with ferocity, breaking through effortlessly, and in moments had penetrated a dozen steps inward. The front row of Chapala warriors dropped their weapons, nearly resisting not at all. They merely knelt in desperation, praying as the Holy City Samurai forcefully struck them down. Afterward, sharp blades sliced across unprotected necks, cleanly cutting throats, killing them on the spot!


    Facing a victory within easy reach, the Holy City Samurai showed no mercy, unleashing full-strength slashes and completely abandoning defense. In just more than a dozen breaths, half of the three thousand Chapala front-line warriors were breached, and four to five hundred armored elites lay bleeding on the ground, motionless and forever silent.


    Olosh dropped his shield, wielding the War Club with both hands. He half-turned sideward, swinging the weapon like hitting a ball, and with a "thump," struck it against the head of an enemy before him. That warrior knelt on the ground, shouting incoherently, then suddenly the shouting stopped, as his neck twisted into a strange arc and he "plunked" down.


    The fierce Jaguar warrior shook his head and without a second thought, slashed another enemy¡¯s throat, muttering softly to himself.


    "These warriors who have lost their souls, stand in place without moving, not even running, are easier to kill than turkeys!"


    Then, Olosh fixed his gaze on the enemy¡¯s Commander¡¯s Flag several dozen steps away, a glint in his eye. He called to the warriors around him and together they pushed towards the higher ground of the small hill.


    "The evil demon of the Mexica... again the evil demon of the Mexica..."


    Feathers trembling in his hands and feet, Pengguari stared fixedly ahead, watching the two wooden cannons being reloaded. The elderly Head Warrior was the first to react. He approached the Family Head, known as Feathers, and urgently shouted.


    "Family Head, the enemy is upon us! Quickly issue the command, beat the drums of battle, and have the Priests chant to inspire courage!"


    Pengguari¡¯s eyes were vacant, his mind in a fog. The warrior next to him shook his body and repeated something. Only then did he nod absentmindedly, and the Head Warrior rapidly relayed commands.


    Amid the turmoil on the hillock, the Militia Archers knelt and howled, and nobody paid them much attention. Soon, the urgent beat of the drums rose again, the Priests trembling as they chanted loudly, conveying the divine will.


    "The three deities protect us, vanquish the evil demon of the Mexica!"


    The Feathers Head Warrior personally led hundreds of clan warriors to the beat of the "thud thud" drums, resisting the assault of the Holy City Legion. He was buying more time for the center army warriors to recover from the chaos.


    The Spear Legions on both flanks chanted the name of the Chief Divine, formed into tight squares, and advanced at a slightly slower pace. They set up five rows of Long Spears in front of the formation and finally reached the front lines of the enemy warriors, stabbing out deeply in an interweaving manner! The sharp Copper Spears pierced the thick Cotton Armor, making a crisp tearing sound, followed by a dull thud as they penetrated the bodies. Left-wing warriors of "Sky" and right-wing warriors of "Silver" simultaneously cried out as they toppled over in droves, letting blood soak the earth.


    From the center army to the flanks, and then to the outskirts of the formations, the two vast armies of tens of thousands of warriors were intertwined, and the boiling combat merged into one.

 Chapter 394 - 198: The Battle of Takuro Plains Continued Part 2

    The Samurai¡¯s war club swung, cutting through the thick cotton armor, and then with a "crack," cleaved through the fragile limbs. The Militia¡¯s long spears stabbed, piercing the sturdy leather armor, and with a "splurch," penetrated the soft bellies and waists. As the Mexica legion launched a full-scale assault along the miles-long front, blood splattered simultaneously, and the dying wails echoed!


    "Monkey" Kuluka wore the simple war clothes of a legion commander, devoid of a lofty back flag, barely noticeable within the Spear Formation. He commanded the left-wing Spear legion, warily scrutinizing the battlefield.


    The Chapala Legion was shaken by the previously unheard cannon fire, plunging into brief but intense chaos. The army¡¯s charge was timely and forceful, fully gaining the advantage on the battlefield!


    To his right, the central army¡¯s City-State Warriors rapidly broke through the enemy lines, charging toward the "feathers" Commander¡¯s Flag on the small hill and clashing with the Marshal¡¯s trusted aides. To his left, the peripheral City-State Warriors also gradually regained their momentum, storming into the circular formations of the Chapala Militia.


    "The central army¡¯s warriors hold firm; the formations are still entangled, difficult to break through at the moment. The peripheral militia are frightened and skittish, their ranks quickly disintegrating, just one strike away!"


    Kuluka pondered briefly, then called a trusted aide to take a message to the Marshal under the Commander¡¯s Flag behind them. Afterward, he looked straight ahead, waved his command flag, blew the copper whistle hanging around his neck, and moved more Spear Formations to the front line to combat the warriors dressed in sky-blue war clothes.


    In the commander¡¯s brief whistle signals, ten dense Spear Formations, wielding nearly three-meter-long spears, covered each other¡¯s flanks, slowly and steadily piercing the enemy¡¯s ranks. Intersecting spears thrust forward, and the first few rows of enemy warriors writhed helplessly like beached fish, indiscriminately struggling in place, then were easily skewered by the "fishermen." Then, in the extended whistle signals from the commander, the "fishermen" slowed their pace, stabilized their formation, and impaled the next batch of Tarasco fish!


    Seeing the Spear Formation¡¯s successful advance, "Monkey" Kuluka¡¯s eyes sparkled as a slight smile crept onto his face.


    The Spear legion had to maintain a stable formation to maximize the lethality of the dense long spears. In the moments of engagement, rhythm was of utmost importance! The Militia could neither recoil in fear nor charge forward in reckless bravery; they had to maintain the same pace as their comrades.


    The new army, although having participated in many minor battles, was experiencing such a grand formation battle for the first time. At the initial moment of engagement, many spear soldiers¡¯ steps became slightly erratic, their speeds mismatched, even becoming separated from each other. The front of the formation undulated like waves, creating noticeable gaps. Fortunately, the chaotic Chapala warriors failed to seize this fleeting opportunity. They merely called out the names of their gods in vain, getting stabbed to death by the disorderly spears!


    "Monkey" Kuluka once again waved the command flag and sounded the copper whistle.


    Several Spear Formations gradually merged, their interlocking pinwheel shapes slowly closing into a tightly-knit larger formation. Then, the grand Spear Formation, with its sharp layers of pointed spears, pressed forward even more vigorously into the enemy ranks, with blood spurting instantaneously. Within moments of engagement, hundreds of enemy warriors fell, covering the frontline with a vivid display of red and blue.


    Facing the approaching Spear Formation, Ahonda, clad in pure blue war clothes and carrying a three-meter back flag, angrily stood on high ground. He swung his martial prowess-filled war club, bellowing loudly at the disordered warriors.


    "Warriors of the ¡¯Sky¡¯ family, be true samurai, rise fearlessly to battle! Join me in courageously confronting the enemy, do not be frightened by the wicked thunder! The enemy¡¯s weapon has already reached us, how can we surrender to death like turkeys?! Rise quickly, the sky belongs to the valiant red hawk, which can even blind the eyes of the evil God of Thunder!"


    Hearing the familiar roar, the surrounding warriors turned to look at the Family Head in the center. They sought emotional support, rekindling the samurais¡¯ courage.


    "Fight! Fight for the honor of the family! In the name of ¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head Ahonda, I command all loyal warriors to raise your shields, brandish your war clubs. No matter what witchcraft the Mexica use, no matter what sounds they create, the outcome of this war will still be decided by the noble warriors! By us!"


    With the Family Head¡¯s rallying cry, more warriors gradually recovered their morale, the family¡¯s glory soaring within their hearts.


    "If they summon the roaring wooden beasts, then go slay those wooden beasts! If they wield weapons bestowed by the gods, then seize those weapons! There is no surviving, no pleading for mercy. I will fight alongside you, fearlessly dying on the battlefield of the divine war!!!"


    Having said this, Ahonda leapt down from the high ground. Swinging his war club, he led his trusted aides to the front of the battle line. Under his lead, the surrounding warriors finally erupted with hysterical cries. Then, one by one, they rose and charged toward the Spear Formation!


    Soon, Ahonda strode to the frontline, the commander¡¯s flag especially conspicuous among the crowd. He didn¡¯t rashly lead his aides in a charge but maintained a distance, carefully observing the Mexica Spear legion.


    These new soldiers were high-spirited, well-disciplined, and well-equipped, seemingly on par with the warriors. But in reality, their main force was still Militia, recently trained. Like the Royal Family¡¯s Spear Formations, they relied on the advantages of long spears and emphasized the cooperation of dense formations.


    The ¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head, battle-hardened and having encountered the Royal Family¡¯s Spear Formations¡¯ tactics, had thoroughly contemplated how to engage in combat. These schemes were not to be disclosed to outsiders, and his caution towards the centralization of royal power was deeply concealed. He simply waved the flag and continued to roar loudly.


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 Chapter 395 - 198 The Battle of Takuro Plains Continued Part 2

    "Frontline samurai, raise your shields for defense and retreat slowly! Flanking samurai, circle to both wings and harass them! Rear samurai, take out the spare war clubs and long spears, and prepare to throw!"


    Ahonda stood resolutely at the front line, stabilizing the warriors¡¯ morale. Under his effective command, the family legion no longer foolishly charged at the spear formation front or stubbornly resisted the sharp long spears, instead they utilized the elite samurai¡¯s agility.


    The frontline warriors raised their shields high and retreated scattered to the Family Head¡¯s side. They used the Chief Divine¡¯s flag as bait, attempting to lure the enemy formation into disarray. The warriors on the left and right spread further apart, surveilling the flanks of the spear formation, and each dispatched a hundred elites to attempt a rear encirclement. The warriors from the rear ranks, in squads, continuously surged from the gaps in the front line. They ran rapidly, accelerating until they reached the front of the spear formation, and then hurled out the war clubs in their hands. The heavy weapons shot into the enemy¡¯s spear formation, occasionally knocking down a few poorly protected spear soldiers. Afterwards, they dangerously turned and retreated, exposing their vulnerable backs, enticing the enemy to pursue.


    "Monkey" Kuluka stood on a high ground, observing the changes in the enemy, his brows deeply furrowed. As the enemy commander-in-chief¡¯s battle flag moved forward, the enemies quickly regained their morale, their actions became agile and swift, and they became exceptionally troublesome.


    "The stiff wood carvings have now gained life, turning into living coyotes!... It seems, the enemy commander is a tough veteran to deal with!"


    Kuluka¡¯s eyes flickered. He steadied his command to slow the spear formation, ordering the militia to raise the left-handed rattan shields and lower their helmets to guard against thrown weapons. The massive battle formation halted, then slowly regrouped, splitting into a protective formation for the flanks. Facing the nearby enemy commander, and the exposed vulnerable backs of the enemy warriors, he remained unphased, stabilizing the pace of the attack. Amidst constant javelin throws, the four thousand spear square formation advanced at a turtle¡¯s pace. The new troops maintained a tight formation, not showing any flaws, continuously pushing back the enemies in front of them.


    Watching the enemy¡¯s response, Ahonda frowned and sighed softly.


    The agile coyote facing the steady porcupine was equally helpless. Three thousand "Sky" warriors had suffered losses of hundreds, pitted against four thousand unharmed long spear militia, the two armies on the left wing thus found themselves in a stalemate.


    He looked around him, full of anxiety. In the grand confrontation between the two armies, the Chapala Legion was clearly at a disadvantage. The "Sky" warriors were unable to achieve a decisive effect, only barely supporting on the flanks. The warriors of the central army were clumsy and slow, not yet fully recovered from the disarray. The "silver" warriors also remained uncertain of the battle situation... The "Sky" Family Head looked towards the enemy¡¯s commander¡¯s flag.


    Under the standing Black Wolf Banner, Xiulote, like an envoy of the God of Thunder, controlled the direction of "Thunderbolt!" His gaze remained calm, surveying the entire battlefield. An envoy rushed from the front line, conveying suggestions from Legion Commander Kuluka. Soon, the wooden cannons on both flanks also raised red flags, finally completed loading. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Young Commander nodded slightly, and before he realized, the two armies had been fighting for a quarter. He glanced at the entangled warriors from both sides, and then waved the red flag in his hand, pointing towards the flanks. The wooden cannons then moved slowly, pushing outwards several dozen steps. Next, the cannon mouths turned towards the flanks, aiming at two groups of Chapala militia a hundred steps away.


    On the flank, Izel just got up, taking the second step of his life¡¯s rise.


    He swung his war club, battling with the Chapala people¡¯s militia, occasionally cautiously raising his shield to block the enemy¡¯s assault. The enemies across from him were like beasts of the jungle, always attempting to charge within half a meter, using hands and feet, engaging in dangerous close combat. He skillfully executed a shield strike, fending off the oncoming young militia, then swiftly dealt a blow with his club, smashing it onto the opponent¡¯s skull. The young militia¡¯s eyes suddenly widened, blood seeped from his nose, and then he staggered to the ground.


    Izel just caught his breath, yet at that same moment, two men simultaneously pounced from the front. Two militiamen wielding short spears of no more than a meter lunged forward in an instant. He hastily blocked with his shield and war club, but the enemies continued to close in regardless. After just a few breaths of fight, the enemy on the left was blocked by the shield, while the one on the right took the opportunity to rush within half a meter. He tightly hugged the young warrior¡¯s left arm holding the club, dying close and stabbing out with his broken stone spear.


    The dull stone spear slowly pierced through the leather armor, Izel felt a pang on his side, feeling the blade piercing his skin. A chill went down his spine, struggling to push the enemy away, as this was a critical point.


    "Chief Divine save me! I have waited so long, yet am I really to face the same fate as my brother?!"


    Izel looked desperately at the enemy¡¯s close, fierce smile. His eyes showed strong unwillingness as he desperately looked towards the family¡¯s Head Warrior, but the elderly Head Warrior seemed to ignore him, only steadily battling with the enemy before him.


    "Boom! Boom!"


    Thunderous booming sounds suddenly erupted! The intense battle once again halted, and then abruptly changed!


    The scattered stone projectiles stormed into the periphery of the militia groups, like a howling storm, instantly knocking down a dozen or so lightly dressed militiamen. The terrifying cannon noise echoed, unknown smoke billowed, accompanied by "thump thump" collision sounds, and the fearful wails of the militia!


    In the ground-shaking noise, Izel again fell to the ground, tumbling over with the close enemy. The cannon strike was no more than ten steps away from them, and the splattering mud smashed all over their faces. The young warrior screamed in terror, frantically feeling about on his body, and his nearby enemy also simultaneously screamed. As the cannon struck, several people were instantly killed. The surrounding Chapala militiamen showed terrified faces, suddenly pausing. Then, they emitted cries of collapse, shaking all over as they turned, like leaves in a wild wind, scrambling and stumbling to flee!

 Chapter 396 - 198 The Battle of Takuro Plains Continued Part 3

    Izel fumbled in panic for a long while before realizing with astonishment that he was completely unharmed. The young Samurai steadied his mind and looked at the enemy who had fallen beside him. The foe¡¯s fierce face was now filled with fear as he babbled incoherently.


    Izel gave a fierce smile, quickly drew the dagger from his waist, and plunged it into the enemy¡¯s throat. Then, licking his dry lips and wiping the fresh red blood from his face, he picked up the fallen war club and rose from the ground again.


    "The Chief Divine¡¯s blessing, I am destined to become the Family Head!"


    The young Samurai¡¯s face lit up with excitement. Then he turned towards the fleeing Chapala Militia, looking at their vulnerable backs, and shouted loudly to his family¡¯s warriors.


    "The enemy is in retreat, follow me and pursue them!"


    The war drums grew even more intense, accompanied by the horns of the charge. Under the bombardment of the wooden cannons, the wings of the Chapala Militia could no longer hold on and, emitting fearful screams, completely collapsed. The warriors from the western state paused for a moment before pursuing with bloodshot eyes. They had suffered serious casualties in the short but fierce battle, and now they only craved slaughter, giving the enemy no chance to regroup!


    Seeing the crumbling periphery of the enemy forces, Xiulote nodded with satisfaction. The warriors on the wings were pursuing the enemy, gradually forming a pincer movement. Then, he turned his attention back to the central battlefield, watching the "Feathers" Commander¡¯s Flag.


    "Silver" Family Head Tekata loudly encouraged his troops, managing to barely stabilize the right flank against the onslaught of the enemy¡¯s Spear corps. Then, the roaring of cannons sounded again, shaking the warriors¡¯ morale and hitting the morale of the corps. He looked anxiously around; the Militia on the flanks were fleeing like rabbits, the central force of warriors remained motionless, and the Archers had also ceased firing and lowered their flags.


    Tekata could no longer hold back. He called the Head Warrior of his family, ordering him to hold the defense, then hurried towards the small hill where the Commander¡¯s Flag stood. He raced past the panicking Militia Archers, past the Temple Priests singing in frenzied chants, and moved through the dazed Great Shield Personal Guards, finally reaching the "Feathers" Marshal.


    "Prince Your Highness, the situation is critical! Please order the Militia Archers to spread out and shoot at their wooden beasts!"


    Tekata pointed at the wooden cannons being reloaded, looking at the busy gunners, and urgently spoke.


    Pengguari¡¯s expression was vacant, his face bewildered. He looked at the cannons and gunners and, in a daze, asked.


    "Tekata... what on earth is this?... Is it the Mexica¡¯s Evil Demon?"


    The "Sky" Family Head paused, studying the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s appearance, his heart filling with irritation. Renowned for his extensive connections and extraordinary experiences, and born into the highest ranks of Nobility, he knew well the tricks of the Priests. Although the Mexica were invoking the names of deities, he did not believe in them, focusing instead on the enemy Craftsmen controlling the wooden beasts.


    "Prince Pengguari, look carefully! Regardless of what this is, living or not, it¡¯s ultimately the Craftsmen who are controlling it! The army is completely at a disadvantage, the warriors are struggling to hold on, and the Militia has already collapsed. No matter what, we cannot let them continue this bombardment!"


    Tekata stepped forward earnestly, gripping the "Feathers" Marshal¡¯s arm.


    "Prince Your Highness, entrust the Archers on both sides to me, let me command them to suppress the enemy!"


    Hearing the "Sky" Family Head¡¯s persuasion, Pengguari subconsciously nodded, entrusting the responsibility to another. Tekata quickly left to direct the Archers of the Militia, shooting volleys at the wooden cannons fifty steps away. Soon, a barrage of arrows showered down fiercely, and nearly ten gunners by the roaring wooden beasts fell. The Mexica warriors immediately raised their shields to defend, and the remaining pushed the wooden cannons, slowly withdrawing to the rear.


    Watching the wooden beasts cower from the rain of arrows, the "Feathers" Marshal slowly came back to his senses. The mythic fear finally dissipated from his heart, and the state of the battle unfolded before his eyes. He saw the center army breached by the enemy, the wings locked in a standoff, and the peripheral forces collapsing, with the enemy closing in for a pincer attack. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The situation is critical... the corps has completely fallen behind!"


    The grand "Feathers" flag flew high, symbolizing the Prince¡¯s honor. Below the flag, Prince Pengguari¡¯s expression shifted, his complexion changing unpredictably.

 Chapter 397 - 199 The Battle of Takuro Plains Continued Part 3

    The golden Sun gradually sank to the west, casting a brilliant glow that fell upon the "Black Wolf" flag of the East. The Mexica legion¡¯s commander¡¯s flag shimmered resplendently as if bathed in the Sun God¡¯s blessed gaze. The slanting sunlight illuminated the hills to the west, drawing out layers of shadows that enveloped the "Feathers" commander¡¯s flag. Expanding, the vast shadow stretched forth, obscuring the battlefield clamoring with slaughter, submerging the blood-drenched killing. It was as if the hand of the God of Death reached out, seizing the souls offered in sacrifice.


    The fierce battle had been raging for two or three quarters, light and shadow interweaving continuously as the battlefield developments, akin to the ever-changing human heart.


    Xiulote, holding the grand flag high, stood in the dazzling light, staring at the enemy Marshal hidden within the shadows.


    The "Feathers" flag stood loftily, seemingly sturdy as a mountain. Around the commander¡¯s flag, small dots of Envoys scurried to relay orders. Chapala¡¯s Archers were organized once more, unleashing relentless volleys of arrows down upon the slope, striving hard to inflict casualties.


    Xiulote frowned slightly. The enemy Archers resumed action, pushing forward desperately to shoot at the cannon crews. The range of the wooden cannons was extremely limited and they numbered only two; now they had to retreat to the rear, slow to reload.


    The Young Commander pondered for a moment before waving the command flag. Three thousand of his Personal Army advanced rapidly until within fifty paces. Then, a high-pitched flute sound rang out as the Longbow Warriors rapidly drew their bows, releasing the final curtain of arrows. Arrows whistled "whoosh whoosh" into the sky, then clattered down, pinning the enemy Archers in groups to the hill.


    Below the Archers was the fiercely contesting central force. The central force¡¯s enemy split into two formations, a full five thousand Samurai strong. These enemy elites, under the intense charge of the Holy City Legion, lost more than five hundred in moments, their morale visibly faltering, but now they gradually recovered from the chaos. They held the higher ground, were well-equipped, and once they steadied their fortified position, the Holy City Warriors were firmly blocked, and casualties began to mount. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote grasped the flag steadfastly, his spirit soaring, meticulously observing both flanks.


    The left wing, known as "Monkey", encountered a formidable adversary. The sky-blue Chapala Warriors, swift and orderly in their maneuvers, flexible in their movements, were locked in a stalemate of relentless advancing and retreating. On the right wing, Etalik held the advantage; the silver-white enemy was fewer in number and tactical rigid. They merely formed into dense shield formations, raising their Copper Spears, struggling to ward off the onslaught of the Spear Legion. Every so often, someone emitted a dying scream, skewered by the crossing Spears.


    The Young Commander pondered briefly, then he hesitated no longer. He swung the command flag vigorously, directing it towards the enemy on the right wing, unleashing the Reserve Warriors he held in his grasp!


    The battle drums sounded furiously, resonating with the Warriors¡¯ spirits. Two thousand of the Divine Blessing Legion and a thousand Temple Guards erupted with a thunderous cry.


    "Chief Divine¡¯s protection, fight for the divine!"


    Following that, Divine Legion Commander Natali, war club and shield in hand, dressed in traditional Otomi War Clothes, charged forward. With devout cries of "Huitzilopochtli," he led the equally fervent Divine Blessing Legion into battle. Swinging to a curved right side, they savagely penetrated the silver-white enemy¡¯s flank. The Divine Warriors wielded their War Clubs unstoppably beneath the enemy¡¯s Copper Spears, advancing with a death-defying resolve and pierced through their ranks in moments.


    The "silver" Warriors, attacked on both sides, fell into an absolute disadvantage. More perilously, under the cunning leadership of Etalik, a thousand Temple Guards were circling to the rear, poised to launch a lethal ambush!


    In the shadow of the hill, "Feathers" Pengguari¡¯s expression was somber as he observed the flank¡¯s battle scene. The Mexica had committed their fierce Reserve Troops, charging towards the most vulnerable flank. These Legions, dressed as the Otomi, were extremely ferocious, fighting with reckless abandon, and were on the verge of breaking through the "silver" Warriors.


    "The ¡¯silver¡¯ formation is at the brink of collapse; once the encircling enemy arrives, they absolutely won¡¯t hold!"


    "Feathers" Marshal, after all, was a commander who had participated in wars for many years. Although he dreaded mythical force and often felt faint when faced with danger, his predictions about battle developments were highly accurate.


    Pengguari¡¯s gaze flickered; first, he glanced at the central force¡¯s trusted aides, with half the Reserve Warriors still in his hands. Then his gaze turned cold, considering the entangled "Sky" Legion, then the collapsing periphery and the encircling enemy. He pondered but briefly before making a decisive judgment! The Marshal swiftly sent out his trusted aide, summoning the loyal Head Warrior.


    In but a dozen breaths, "silver" Great Nobility Tekata, abandoning command of the archers, rushed forward in haste. His silver war clothes stained with fresh blood, his shield bearing several deeply embedded Feathered Arrows, reflected the brutality of the front lines. At this moment, his expression was particularly anxious, the usual laughter gone.


    "Prince! The ¡¯silver¡¯ Warriors cannot hold on; please send reinforcements quickly!"


    Tekata approached urgently, grasping the arm of "Feathers" Prince.


    "Our flank is overwhelmed by the enemy¡¯s elite troops! Prince, please send forth your Reserve Forces from your grasp!"


    Pengguari nodded. He waved the command flag, and the battle drums sounded immediately. Thousands of Militia, their heads bowed low, weapons in hand, were driven forward by prodding Warriors, confronting the encircling Temple Guards.


    "¡¯Silver¡¯ Family Head, please hurry back to the front line, command the archers in battle there! I shall support the flanks myself!"


    Tekata turned to look for a moment, his face growing increasingly desperate. The supporting Militia had just recently scattered; their morale was now profoundly low. They were barely resisting the fervent Temple Warriors, ineffective in the grand scheme of things. The "Sky" family¡¯s Warriors were on the verge of collapse!

 Chapter 398 - 199: The Battle of Takuro Plains Continued Part 3 - 2

    "Silver" Great Nobility clenched "Feathers" Prince¡¯s arm tightly. He knelt on one knee, his gaze earnest, and he called out loudly.


    "Your Highness, the ¡¯Sky¡¯ Samurai are about to die in battle! Please dispatch your Reserve Warriors to the wing that hangs by a thread! The ¡¯Sky¡¯ family will forever remember your assistance with gratitude!"


    Pengguari¡¯s eyes drooped, avoiding the looking gaze. Then, he saw the Head Warrior, torn and bloodied from battle, hurry back from the front.


    "The front is critical, let me go and inquire!"


    "Feathers" Prince broke free from Tekata¡¯s grip and strode forward to meet the coming figure. "Silver" Family Head, unwilling to give in, hastily followed behind. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Pengguari stepped out briskly, creating distance from Tekata. Then, he suddenly turned around and pointed a finger at him.


    "Guards on my left and right, seize him!"


    The Marshal¡¯s trusted aides looked at each other bewildered, but then they heard the command shouted fiercely once again.


    "Seize him!"


    A few loyal aides, no longer hesitating, stepped forward together and pinned down the incredulous Tekata on the spot.


    "Pengguari! You, you?!"


    "Bind his arms, gag him, and cover him with shields!"


    Continuous commands were issued, and in just a few breaths, the unprepared "Sky" Family Head was securely restrained.


    "Ah! Your Highness, this, this...!"


    The Head Warrior stood frozen beside the Marshal. The blood on his war clothes continued to drip, indistinguishable between his own and the enemy¡¯s.


    "This battle is unwinnable! I must preserve the ¡¯Feathers¡¯ family¡¯s strength and retreat with the elite main force! I must retain the last bit of vitality for the Lake Region!"


    Pengguari exuded an authoritative air, openly sharing his intentions with his most loyal, lifelong guards.


    "My most loyal Head Warrior! I entrust you with the ¡¯Feathers¡¯ battle flag and the more than a thousand warriors engaged in battle! Four thousand Archers are also in your charge, as are the several thousand Militia, everything here I leave to you!"


    The Head Warrior stood speechless. He gazed at the forthright Family Head and slowly knelt on one knee.


    "Do not fail my trust! Do not betray the family¡¯s honor!"


    As he spoke, "Feathers" Family Head held the Head Warrior¡¯s shoulders and earnestly said.


    "Your beloved eldest son will succeed your position! I will not forget your sacrifice!"


    Upon hearing this, the Head Warrior bowed his head deeply, tears gleaming in his eyes, and said in a heavy voice.


    "Your Highness, I will die for the family! Please take care of my family."


    Pengguari revealed a perfect smile and nodded emphatically.


    "Your wife, she is my family member too!"


    With that, he turned to leave.


    The surrounding guards watched in silent reverence at this breach of honor yet in keeping with family tradition. An attendant cautiously approached, asking softly.


    "Your Highness, shall we notify ¡¯Sky¡¯ Nobility Ahonda on the flank? What should be done with ¡¯Silver¡¯ Nobility Tekata?"


    Pengguari considered quickly, contemplating the post-retreat situation, before speaking swiftly.


    "There¡¯s no need to inform Ahonda! Take Tekata away with you. Once we¡¯re back in the Lake Region, he¡¯ll still be of great use!"


    As he spoke, the "Feathers" Prince¡¯s eyes gave a chilly glint. He gazed deeply at the "Sky" Family Head at the frontline, watching the sky-blue Samurai fighting, while a dense shadow spread in his heart.


    "After this battle, Tarasco will be beyond salvation, on the brink of collapse. Forget the throne! All three Great Families are here, as long as we preserve the main strength of our families and retreat to the Lake Region in time, no one will be able to contend with us. Even Chapala¡¯s land will be enough to proclaim oneself king!"


    His thoughts flashing, Pengguari sorted everything out in his mind and hesitated no longer. He swiftly dispatched the Militia to the front to replace the main Warrior force in the center. Then, he abandoned the Marshal¡¯s flag and led three thousand "Feathers" family Warriors, decisively forsaking everything of the vast Chapala army, and made a hasty retreat toward the river in the west, a dozen or so li away.


    "As long as we reach the riverbank and board the grain transport fleet, we can escape to a new life!"


    Escorted by his trusted aides, the "Feathers" Prince ran down the hill, leaving layers of shadows behind and heading towards the splendid sunlight. In the moment before departure, he took one last glance at the newly erected Prince¡¯s flag on the small hill. The Guachal bird feathers fluttered gallantly ¨C a symbol of past hope and glory. Below the flag, the troops fought on, the sounds of combat ringing through the earth, followed by successive rumbles of Thunderbolt!


    Pengguari looked back deeply, etching the scene into his memory. Silent, his feet did not pause. Beside him, the army bowed their heads and hurried along. The "Feathers" Warriors left behind all their luggage and wealth, only keeping the weapons in their hands, silently following their Commander. They retreated swiftly, maintaining basic order, obeying the marching commands. Behind them, the enemy had not yet appeared in pursuit. When the Thunderbolt sounded again, the "Feathers" Legion had disappeared over the crest of the hill.


    Under the Black Wolf flag, Xiulote stood, dumbfounded, as he watched the enemy¡¯s central force turn tail and flee. The "Feathers" Legion was so quick in their movements! Without any unnecessary fuss or noise, the Legion gathered briefly and then quickly entered marching formation, soon accelerating to their maximum speed.


    The Young Commander urgently waved the command flag and blew the horn, ordering the surrounding City-State Warriors to pursue. However, these Nobility militia, red-eyed, dispersed in disorder. They chased and slaughtered the fleeing Militia, looting the riches scattered on the ground, even attacking the flanks of the enemy¡¯s formation. Only a very few Warriors remained lucid enough to accept new commands.


    Amidst the urgent horn sounds, Izel turned his head to look at the Marshal¡¯s flag. Moments later, his face lit up with joy as he led hundreds of his family Warriors in pursuit of the enemy¡¯s retreating central force.


    The elderly Head Warrior approached, grasping the younger Warrior¡¯s arm.


    "Izel, the enemy¡¯s main force numbers in the thousands! A fleeing Jaguar is no prey for a Coyote!"


    Izel¡¯s eyes shone brightly, his face breaking into a smile.


    "Respected Head Warrior, I understand this! Rest assured, I won¡¯t get too close, just capture some scattered soldiers and pick up the enemy¡¯s flag! Every army is in chaos¡ªonly we are pursuing, and the Supreme Highness will surely take note of this in his heart!"


    As he spoke, Izel¡¯s eyes filled with reverence as he looked toward the sacred Black Wolf Commander¡¯s Flag. Then, he turned, his face showing longing, gazing at the magnificent "Feathers" Commander¡¯s Flag on the nearby hill.


    "It¡¯s a pity! The Commander¡¯s Flag is so close, yet I cannot go and seize it!"


    "Izel, don¡¯t dwell on it, each family Warrior is precious, we cannot afford any losses. More importantly, this Commander¡¯s Flag already has an owner! It must belong to the Marshal¡¯s direct line, to the Holy City Legion who will have the primary credit!"


    Upon hearing this, Izel nodded in understanding. He said no more, but pursued the fleeing enemy, like a wild dog chasing a cheetah, letting out a brave and loud howl!


    The breeze dispelled the dust of the battlefield, and sunlight cast oblique shadows on the hills. A large-scale maneuver couldn¡¯t be hidden for long; soon, the Warriors on both wings noticed the central force¡¯s retreat.


    Pengguari had taken away all the supervisory troops. The thousands of Militia who came up to support had only fought briefly before, under the assault of the Temple Guards, breaking out into chaotic shouts, completely disintegrating. After that, the battle situation changed swiftly. Chapala¡¯s dialect floated in the wind, carrying shocking news!


    "The Marshal has been defeated!"


    Under the "Feathers" flag, the Warriors fighting fiercely gradually fell to the ground, and the magnificent and dignified Prince was nowhere to be seen. The Mexica Warriors roared mightily, boldly advancing.


    "The Marshal¡¯s trusted aides are retreating!"


    Following the direction of the setting sun, a legion bearing the "Feathers" family emblem hastened away, leaving only their diminishing figures and lengthening silhouettes.


    "The Silver Legion has collapsed!"


    The Temple Guards blew the terrifying Death Whistle, scattering fleeing Militia, then fiercely rushed toward the rear of the silver-clad Warriors. Etalik¡¯s eyes were sharp as he spotted the position, broke through the enemy¡¯s blockade, and charged toward the center where the enemy thronged. Then, ferociously wielding his War Club, he knocked down the commanding Warrior with a blow, then raised his weapon high and decisively decapitated the enemy!


    The "Silver" Legion paused only briefly before disintegrating in uproar¡ªthe phalanx of spears and shields dissolved. Under the triple attack, nearly two thousand Chapala Warriors fell apart like moonlight melting into Water, shattering into scattered white silhouettes on the ground. However, unlike moonlight, they could not return to normal but fell scattering, bleeding red, like falling cherry blossoms.


    Then, thousands of voices¡ªsome in surprise, some in excitement, some in despair, some in mourning¡ªcried out in different languages, but with the same shout!


    "The Commander¡¯s Flag has fallen!!"

 Chapter 399 - 200 The Battle of Takuro Plains Conclusion

    White clouds like snow, casting the shadow of the sky. The sky blue as a mirror, reflecting the bright red of the ground. The long wind carried the boiling battle cries, dispersing the clouds above, offering a sacrifice to the highest gods. The Sun God then looked down impassively, watching the massive, cruel battlefield, guiding countless souls to their destination.


    On the hill where the sunlight fell, Olosh, covered in blood, finally broke through all obstacles! The ferocious Jaguar warriors charged to the front of the Commander¡¯s Flag, and with two fierce swings, he cut down the enemy leader guarding the flag. Then he let out a tiger¡¯s roar, snapped the flag with both hands, and the elegant, tall "Feathers" Commander¡¯s Flag thunderously fell!


    Seeing the scene before them, the surrounding battlefield paused for a moment. The sacred flag toppled to the ground, trampled into the mud by many bloodstained feet, without mercy. Moments later, a roar erupted across the sky, followed by countless cries of despair!


    The remaining Chapala center troops disintegrated. The Samurai holding the rear no longer held their ground. They dropped their shields in despair, wildly slashing until they quickly exhausted their strength and were stabbed to death by dense Long Spears. The Archers in the rear dropped their bows and arrows and turned to flee. They exposed their vulnerable backs and were continuously brought down by the pursuing Samurai, crying out in terror. Soon, the warriors who outflanked from both sides came killing, and the Militia fell to their knees powerless. They made no resistance, thousands surrendered, waiting for the judgment of fate!


    Tens of thousands of warriors chased the defeated to the north, tens of thousands of enemy troops fled like a horde of rats. The Black Wolf¡¯s banner gleamed in the sunlight and fluttered in the strong wind. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote looked at the victorious battlefield and laughed heartily, his laughter full of confidence and boldness. The glorious victory finally came, as satisfying as the stupor from wine!


    Then, the Young Commander glanced at the still-resisting left flank of the enemy troops and once again waved the red command flag. Two cannon changed direction, aimed from the side, and fired two more Thunderbolts!


    The thunderous Thunderbolts exploded amidst the sky-blue Samurai formation, grazing the Chief Commander¡¯s flag, knocking down several trusted aides. The scattering stones "bang bang" shot through the air, hitting Ahonda¡¯s helmet and raising dust, which swooped in and obscured his vision. Ahonda, the Family Head of the "Sky," staggered from the deafening blast, still shouting words to motivate the warriors.


    A moment later, when the dust finally cleared, Ahonda abruptly fell silent. He looked around; all of the Allied Forces had either already retreated, were dispersing, or had surrendered. The surrounding enemy troops rapidly closed in, some wielding club shields, others gathering Long Spears, some holding Amulets, completely encircling the remaining over two thousand "Sky" warriors.


    "Family Head, the Marshal has fled! The situation is lost, let us protect you and break out!"


    The loyal escorts gathered close. They wore faces of despair, preparing to fight to the death.


    "Escape?"


    Ahonda flashed a wretched smile. He looked around, three different corps¡¯ banners tightly enveloping the four directions. Not far away, three thousand Archers ascended a small hill, holding Longbows and Crossbows, aiming at his own formation. There were also dozens of Craftsmen, pushing two roaring wooden cannons closer.


    "Where to escape? We served as the rearguard for the army; we have no way out long ago!"


    At these words, the Family Head of the "Sky" suddenly became emotional and burst out angrily.


    "How can the Red Hawk and Red Sparrow fly in the same sky? Cowardly Red Sparrow! Pengguari, you betrayed the three gods, betrayed the Kingdom, betrayed the Alliance¡¯s oath! You will plummet into the abyss underneath the earth!!"


    Ahonda turned around, gazing westward. That was the direction of the Feather Army that had fled and the homeland he could no longer return to. He let out a deep roar, like the curse of prophecy.


    "Feathers of Chapala, though you may escape for a moment, you cannot escape the future! You will eventually be captured by the enemy, die on the sacrificial altar! I will wait for you in the Divine Kingdom above!!"


    Upon hearing this, the surrounding escorts looked at each other in shock, at a loss for words. The Family Head was highly esteemed after many years of battle; they wanted to persuade him but were momentarily unable to speak.


    At that moment, an Envoy from the enemy army approached the front. He wore the clothes of the Mexica people, but he spoke with the accent of the northern Tarasco.


    "The incarnation of the divine, the undefeated His Highness Xiulote, has sent me with his merciful command: Surrender, brave General of Chapala! Follow the great Alliance, convert to the highest Chief Divine, fight for the new Sun! You will retain your Nobility status, keep your Personal Army guards, and in the soon-to-be-extinct Tarasco Kingdom, your family¡¯s legacy will continue!"


    Upon hearing this, Ahonda suddenly raised his head, glaring forward.


    He saw the towering Wolf Banner moving this way, beneath it the solemn enemy¡¯s Personal Army, and hundreds of fierce and formidable Jaguar warriors. A not-so-tall Samurai was escorted by an elite corps in the center, slowly walking this way. He wore a colorful Feather Crown, dressed in black and gold War Clothes, one hand holding a moss green Feather Shield with divine images, the other a deep red Spear Flag symbolizing the Marshal, dazzling like the descent of a god! By his side, a warrior with a face as primitive as an ape¡¯s, was quietly whispering something.


    Xiulote handed the great banner to the flag officer behind him, stepping toward the sky-blue enemy warriors. Sko, "The Monkey" Kuluka, softly reported nearby, with a twinkle in his eyes.


    "My lord, the opposing Chapala commander is an outstanding old general, leading true elites. He managed to respond quickly to the canon and Spear Formation, maintaining the morale of his troops; he truly is formidable!...He must be a member of the Great Nobility, with generations of family warriors under his command. For the future conquest of the Chapala Lake Region, such a person will be very useful!"

 Chapter 400 - 200 The Battle of Takuro Plains Conclusion Part 2

    The Young Commander nodded slightly, revealing a confident smile. He waited a moment, then his teacher Olosh returned at a brisk pace with the broken "Feather" Commander¡¯s Flag. His body was covered in the enemy¡¯s fresh blood, leaving behind a red trail in his wake.


    "Your Highness, I present the enemy¡¯s Commander¡¯s Flag to you, congratulations on the splendid victory!"


    Olosh knelt on one knee, raised his hands high, and offered up the "Feather" flag.


    Xiulote took the brand-new Commander¡¯s Flag, looking at the familiar feather pattern. Those spread-out feathers were not embroidered, but genuine Gecal feathers, a luxury item more expensive than gemstones. Under the golden sunlight, the beautiful plumage shimmered with blue patterns, like flowing waves.


    The Young Commander gazed at the flag for a moment, as if trying to see someone he had never met through the gorgeous banner. After a moment, he nodded with a smile of approval.


    "Olosh, you crushed the enemy¡¯s center, captured their Commander¡¯s Flag, and made the enemy¡¯s Marshal flee. You deserve the highest honor for this battle!"


    Hearing the modified order in his words, Olosh slightly started. Then, with a look of realization, he bowed his head and said in a deep voice.


    "It¡¯s the Chief Divine¡¯s blessing! And your glory, Your Highness! The Western conquest will surely prevail, the Alliance will conquer the world!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily. He bent down, returned the flag to Olosh, lifted him from the ground while whispering.


    "Teacher, hold the flag and accompany me to persuade the surrender of the enemy generals."


    Olosh nodded. With one hand he held the broken flag and with the other the War Club, cautiously guarding His Highness as he led the way. In just a short time, the Young Commander, the valiant Great General, the elite trusted aides, and the Black Wolf¡¯s flag all arrived before the last enemy formation.


    The "Sky" Family Head watched closely and stayed silent. The enemy¡¯s Marshal, although composed, was a handsome and delicate youth, merely fifteen or sixteen years old.


    "By the Three Divinities and my ancestors! To think I would be defeated by a youth!"


    Seeing the true enemy Marshal, Ahonda¡¯s heart turned cold and his face showed a pained expression. He had imagined the enemy commander¡¯s appearance and his response, but now he was momentarily lost for words.


    "Surrender, Sky Family Head."


    From dozens of steps away, with the enemy completely surrounded, Xiulote smiled slightly and spoke persuasively.


    "The Tarasco Kingdom is on the verge of collapse, and the Chapala Lake Region cannot hold out for long. ¡¯Sky¡¯ of Chapala, submit to the great Alliance, and I promise you a future of glory!"


    With the Prince¡¯s words, Olosh strode forward. He fixed a tiger-like stare on the "Sky" Family Head¡¯s eyes as he threw the broken "Feather" flag at the other party¡¯s feet.


    Listening to the enemy Marshal¡¯s personal appeal for surrender, the "Sky" Family Head¡¯s expression changed, revealing a complex and difficult to discern feeling. He stared at the blood-stained Prince¡¯s banner as if seeing a similar fall of the Royal Banner, that hopeless future. In that instant, countless thoughts raced through his mind, leaving him somewhat bewildered.


    The trusted aides gathered around Ahonda and began to speak.


    "Family Head, the Marshal fled first; we held out to the last moment! Surrendering now does not betray the Samurai¡¯s honor..."


    "Family Head, the kingdom¡¯s situation is dire, and the Mexica cannot be stopped. For the sake of our family¡¯s survival, perhaps surrender is the better choice..." S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Family Head, Pengguari has fled back to the Lake Region! The warriors of the Silver Family have been annihilated. If we also perish here, the ¡¯Feather¡¯ will be unchallenged in the Lake Region. Who knows what they might do then?"


    Hearing this last statement, Ahonda felt a chill in his heart and his face showed emotion. After a while, he hesitated and asked the Marshal opposite.


    "Prince of the Mexica, if I choose to surrender, would you allow me to return home?"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote paused, then burst into laughter.


    "¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head, how could I possibly let a commander like you return to the mountain so easily? You need to show your actions, prove your loyalty to the Alliance, before you can soar in the sky again!"


    The Young Commander said with an implied meaning, still smiling.


    "After the fall of the Rivermouth Fortress, the northern Legion¡¯s Ospa Commander has also surrendered! He kept his personal escorts, converted to the Chief Divine, and is now under my command, recruiting the nobles of the northern kingdoms for the Alliance!"


    Ahonda lowered his head in silence. He understood the enemy Marshal¡¯s words. If he was to choose surrender, giving up his legions, converting to the Chief Divine, and recruiting former acquaintances were all inevitable outcomes.


    The "Sky" Family Head surveyed his surroundings. The trusted aides around him looked at him with pleading eyes, keenly focused on him. More than two thousand family warriors held their shields high, their faces filled with expectation. Lastly, he glanced at his eldest son in the army, a young Samurai of just twenty years, resolute and following right behind him.


    Ahonda showed a moment of tenderness. He turned and caressed his eldest son¡¯s face without saying a word. After a moment, he made a decision, his gaze becoming calm as he looked once more at the Mexica Prince.


    "Your Excellency, more than two thousand of the ¡¯Sky¡¯ legions will surrender under the lead of my eldest son! Please forgive the officers of the legions for the sin of warring against the Alliance, let me bear the responsibility alone!"


    "Family Head!!"


    The trusted aides around him showed panic, kneeling on the ground one after another. The son behind him had eyes full of entreaty, but Ahonda no longer looked back.


    Xiulote¡¯s face was as calm as a lake, his heart full of waves. He caught the implication in the other¡¯s words, and familiar scenes flooded his memory, years seeming just like yesterday. After a moment, he nodded slightly with his eyes lowered.


    "As long as you submit to the Alliance and prove your loyalty, the Chief Divine will surely grant forgiveness!"

 Chapter 401 - 200 The Battle of Takuro Plains Conclusion Part 3

    Having received the assurance from His Highness, Ahonda finally smiled reassuringly. He turned to his trusted samurai and said with a smile,


    "The Lake Region put forth all its might to assemble the strong Chapala Legion, yet it dispersed entirely within a few quarters! Thirty thousand men fled like cheetahs, crying out like a flock of birds. If not a single Marshal perished here, how could the samurai face the elders in their hometown?"


    The trusted samurai bowed their heads in shame. Some drew obsidian daggers and cut their own cheeks, even laying the blades across their necks.


    "The Kingdom has waged war year after year, dominating for a century. Facing the advance of the Mexica, every marshal either surrendered or fled; how could this be justified? Even though the people of the lake failed, they should not be belittled by the world. There must be a Commander-in-Chief who dies here in battle! Although I am not a Marshal, as the ¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head of the honored family, I am willing to take on this responsibility!"


    Ahonda laughed heartily. He looked around at the samurai and finally gave his decisive order,


    "Preserve bodies that are still of use. Assist my eldest son well. And take back from ¡¯Feathers¡¯ what happened today!"


    The family samurai wept bitterly, dropping their weapons and bowing in unison to the Family Head. The Mexica samurai also showed respect, waiting for the flower to bloom and fade.


    Noticing his opponent¡¯s resolve to die, Xiulote no longer spoke. He gazed at the ¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head before him, with an equally solemn wait.


    Ahonda undid his blood-stained sky-blue war clothes, revealing a chest full of scars. He looked at old scars while recalling the years of campaigning, a sincere smile emerging on his face. Then, he drew the sacrificial obsidian dagger, pressing it against his heaving chest, aiming at the soul-harboring heart.


    The ¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head looked up at the deep and vast sky. The sky, so deep and vast, had given him a lofty name and would soon accept his departing soul.


    "Takuro Plains, the place of life¡¯s cessation, where birds fall from the sky. The birds fly away noisily, and thus I smile in knowledge: what falls here is not a narrow feather, but the expansive sky!"


    With his final poem, Ahonda suddenly exerted force with the dagger in his hand, the sharp blade piercing his soft body, deeply stabbing into the beating life. Unspeakable pain surged violently. The ¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head¡¯s pupils dilated sharply, then quickly dissipated. Within a few breaths, he lost all his strength and fell to the ground with a ¡¯thump¡¯.


    In his last moments close to the Earth Mother Goddess¡¯s embrace, feeling the sunlight from the Father Sun. The ¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head whispered silently, yet no one could hear anymore.


    "Oh, it hurts¡­ The soul flies from the heart¡­ Great Gods above, I do not wish to go to the cold sky¡­returning...to the homeland..."


    The bright red blood flowed rapidly. Soon, the ¡¯Sky¡¯ Family Head lost all sound and became a solid symbol under the sky. In front of tens of thousands of samurai, he demonstrated his fearlessness, calmly embracing death.


    Watching this scene, Olosh grinned and exclaimed loudly. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What a brave Great General who went to his death! There are indeed real heroes among the Tarasco people!"


    Hearing this, ¡¯Monkey¡¯ Kuluka turned slightly and looked towards the distance, murmuring softly.


    "True heroes..."


    In the direction of Kuluka¡¯s gaze, Ezpan bowed his head, concealing his body within the spear formation, gripping his weapon tightly.


    Meanwhile, the Divine Blessing Legion¡¯s Natali closed his eyes. He stretched out his blood-covered right hand, grasping the amulet symbolizing the Chief Divine, and prayed solemnly.


    Xiulote stood silently for a moment, then slowly bowed. Afterward, he straightened his back and surveyed the blood-soaked battlefield in the sunset. The Mexica main legion was largely intact, over two thousand elite enemy forces lay surrendering on the ground, and more than ten thousand of the Chapala Militia still fleeing. At this moment, boundless passion burned fiercely in his chest like a flame!


    "Conquering the north, marching south to the Capital City. This battle has finally ended!!"

 Chapter 402 - 201: Post-war Summary Part One

    The relentless pursuit had lasted half a day, the Samurai¡¯s rush filled with martial prowess. The enemy¡¯s militia were overtaken in groups. Some were struck fatally and turned into cold corpses; others were bound by their hands and taken as captured prisoners. Only a few managed to escape the expansive plains of the Lake Region, entering the undulating western forests, and then following the rivers back to their hometowns.


    The Feather Family¡¯s Chapala Legion moved like the wind, advancing dozens of miles. They boarded grain transport boats, abandoned all their food, then forcefully proceeded downstream. The pursuing City-State Warriors stopped at the riverbank, gazing at the river surface and sighing. They captured the lagging warriors, collected the valuable grains and fodder, stored their personal loots, and escorted the prisoners back.


    It was not until the sun fell from the sky, staining the earth with its crimson hue, and darkness engulfed the battlefield, that the day¡¯s skirmish finally came to an end.


    After the great victory, three major military tasks ensued. First was to tally the feats of valor to reward the various military leaders. Second was to calculate the casualties and manage consoling and organizing the troops. Third was handling prisoners and gathering food supplies. Although these were three activities, they often merged into one.


    The grand army established a large camp on the edge of the battlefield and lit the night¡¯s bonfires. Xiulote called together the military leaders for a modest drink in celebration, then announced a summary of the battlefield.


    "The Holy City Legion captured the enemy and seized the flag, and should be acknowledged as having the highest merit! Come, Olosh, my teacher. Drink this cup fully, for your bravery!"


    The Young Commander stood in the center of the large tent. He held a pottery jug, personally pouring the wine to inspire the distinguished generals.


    This was a deserved acknowledgment. The Holy City Legion, as the most loyal direct lineage, faced the enemy¡¯s most resilient central forces and also carried out the most fierce assault. They killed two thousand enemy warriors and incurred front-and-back casualties themselves of five hundred. Legion Commander Olosh led by example, slaying the Feather Family Head Warrior, breaking the enemy¡¯s commander¡¯s flag, equally standing bravest among all.


    Olosh laughed heartily, took the tequila rice wine, and drank a mouthful heartily.


    "To Your Highness¡¯s victory! Now that the great battle is won, we can soon move southward! This western campaign was unbeatable, and the Northern Route Army has shocked the world!"


    Xiulote smiled as he nodded. He poured another cup of wine, and spoke solemnly.


    "The artillery units fired several rounds, suppressed the enemy¡¯s central army morale, and crushed the enemy¡¯s flanks, earning them secondary merits! Dozens of craftsman-artillerists were all promoted to Samurai!"


    Upon saying this, the Young Commander beckoned. From a corner of the large tent, a craftsman representative stepped forward. His face was full of joy, yet his movements were trembling; first, he bowed deeply in respect, then carefully took the cup and soberly drank a few sips. Then, bowing slightly, he paid his respects to the generals in the tent.


    The Great Generals nodded slightly, most of them taking a light sip. Only those leading the militia like the monkeys and Ezpan drank in one gulp, showing solemnity.


    Xiulote watched silently, observing everything.


    Through this battle, the undeniable power of artillery shocked the battlefield and innovations allowed the lowly status craftsmen to truly find their footing within the military. Beyond the traditional Samurai and militia, the Mexica legion was thus giving birth to a new tier, the technical craftsmen of the artillery units!


    The Young Commander was aware of the major trend of artillery development in the future. He was preparing to establish specialized artillery locations and military schools, personally setting up the policies and procedures, nurturing this new power. As for who would lead the firearm troops, he was still thoughtfully considering someone with foresight and an ability to learn and discover.


    "The Divine Blessing Legion broke into the enemy¡¯s right wing, unstoppable in its sharpness. The Temple Guards circled to the enemy¡¯s rear, thoroughly crushing the foe. Natali, Etalik, you both are third! Come, drink this cup fully, to honor the Chief Divine!"


    The two commanders of the Religious Legion came forward one after another, shared a drink together. They exclaimed in unison.


    "Praise to the Chief Divine! Chief Divine¡¯s protection granted us victory in this battle! Your Highness is the beloved Divine Descendant of the Chief Divine, destined to soar like an eagle over the Lake Region and shine like the Sun across the world!"


    Upon hearing this, the generals also shouted together.


    "Praise to the Chief Divine, divine blessing upon Your Highness! The Sun shines over the world!"


    The heroic shouts echoed throughout the large tent, accompanied by a spirited vigor! In the outermost corner of the tent, Izel from the western City-States was invigorated and joined in the generals¡¯ cheers.


    Meanwhile, not far from His Highness, the young Oorta appeared gloomy, stiff in his movements, and at a loss. As the inheriting Family Head of the Sky Clan who had surrendered, His Highness had treated him generously, specifically placing him by his side. At this moment, listening to the victorious cheers of the Mexica generals and feeling the overwhelming fighting spirit of the crowd, Oorta felt like a tiny sparrow among mighty eagles, filled with fear, bowing his head in silence.


    Xiulote¡¯s lips curled into a smile, satisfied with the high spirits of the generals. The two Religious Legions had made an assault for a quarter of an hour, completely crushing the Silver Legion. Both armies had suffered just over a hundred casualties, maintaining high morale, ready to be deployed into another great battle.


    Then, the Young Commander raised his cup again, smiled and spoke, and the generals instantly fell silent.


    "The Spear Legion crushed the enemy¡¯s frontal militia, restrained both flanks of the Chapala Legion, also showing remarkable merit in the great battle! Kuluka, Ezpan, the Spear Legion was personally established by you two, and now it has truly proven its worth. I am very pleased! Know this, leading troops is not easy, and training them is even harder. Come! Drink this cup fully. Let all the generals drink together to congratulate these two commanders!"


    Kuluka stepped forward respectfully, drank the Highness¡¯s poured wine slowly until not a drop was left, then, smiling, he said,


    "It is all due to Your Highness¡¯s promotion that I could lead an army alone. The new army¡¯s training was also personally participated in and earnestly guided by Your Highness. With this victory, the Spear Legion has gained confidence to fight all enemies for Your Highness! Please allow me to offer a toast to Your Highness!" S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote¡¯s mouth curved into a smile as he affectionately patted the "monkey" on the shoulder, then drank the offered wine.


    Seeing the high regard His Highness had for Kuluka, the generals felt envious while they continuously offered toasts, congratulating this common-born, plain-looking Legion Commander. Kuluka, with a smile on his face, responded one by one. His sincere praises felt as refreshing as a spring breeze.


    Then, Ezpan stepped forward. He bowed deeply, carefully drank the wine, and then, mimicking Kuluka¡¯s gesture, offered a toast to His Highness.


    "Your Highness, you have granted me rejuvenation and light, you are the sole Sun God in my heart! Please allow me to toast to You, offering my eternal loyalty. The Tarasco Legion will fight for You, no matter who the enemy is!"


    Hearing this, Oorta raised his head and glanced at this Surrendered General from central Tarasco. The other was clad in Mexica war clothes, wore a Sun God amulet around his neck, and his arm sported an Alliance Warrior¡¯s armband. From top to bottom, apart from the familiar accent in his voice, he bore no trace of Tarasco.


    "I wonder which Nobility family he belonged to before surrendering? Perhaps I could cite a few and ask about the Alliance situation," he thought.


    Oorta¡¯s gaze flickered as he pondered seriously, observing the situation in the tent more carefully.


    Seeing Ezpan¡¯s toast, Xiulote was slightly taken aback. Then, he laughed heartily, accepting the intimate gesture and likewise drank the wine.


    In this grand battle, the eight thousand Spear Legion had proven the might of the Spear Formation. Facing only boldly courageous Militia in a disorganized formation, they cut through them effortlessly like slicing through melons. The Spear Formation was extremely powerful at the front; even against the enemy¡¯s elite Warriors, as long as the flanks and back were well protected, they could still hold the advantage.


    "The Spear Formation should not be deployed into battle alone, but should be supported by allies covering its vulnerable left and right flanks. The Spear Formation needs to combine and separate as necessary, even shifting into columns. This requires more battlefield training! As long as the Spear Formation is not broken, the losses among the Soldiers will not be severe."


    In the grand battle, the eight thousand Spear Legion had maintained their formation intact throughout. They had fought against Militia and Warriors and faced a barrage of Throwing Spears and arrows but had lost only slightly over five hundred men. The close-range advantage of their tightly packed spears had been fully demonstrated.


    "After this battle, the position of the Militia will be elevated, finding a way forward! As long as they are well-coordinated, and with half a year¡¯s training, they can still hold against Warriors trained for five years!"


    Xiulote thought with a smile. His gaze swept over everyone, as if deep in thought.


    The behavior of the generals proved a point. Kuluka was a favored retainer of His Highness, thus everyone eagerly showed goodwill. As for Ezpan, who personally formed the new Spear Legion, many generals born into Warrior families showed lack of interest and even distinct rejection, not nearly as welcoming as the newly joined Natali.


    Seeing His Highness accept the toast, Ezpan¡¯s face lit up with joy. He mimicked Kuluka, toasting the other generals, but had few responders. Awkwardly holding his cup, he stood in the middle of the gathering, unsure of what to say next.


    After a brief moment of thought, Xiulote stood up and walked over to Oorta, lifting him up.


    The generals ceased their mutual toasting and once again fell silent.


    "This is the Family Head of the Chapala Sky Family, the eldest son of the brave warrior we saw today! The Chapala Warriors joining the Alliance and the Sky Legion submitting to the Northern Army fills my heart with joy!"


    Xiulote, with a smile, looked towards the uneasy Oorta.


    "Oorta, now that you have inherited the Sky title, you must be as respected as your father! You must fight bravely and stoutly, devoutly believe in the Chief Divine, abide by the Warrior¡¯s virtues, and be loyal to the great Alliance! Remember, fulfill your father¡¯s last wishes, lead your troops back home, and make the betraying Feather Family pay the price!"


    Upon hearing this, Oorta was visibly moved and touched. He thanked His Highness for praising his father, feeling apprehensive, yet he struggled to express himself clearly.


    "Thanks¡­ Your Highness¡­ loyalty¡­ towards the Sun¡­ Feather¡­ should perish¡­"


    Xiulote observed the young Family Head¡¯s reactions and then smiled gently. He turned to face Ezpan and said with a smile,


    "Come, Ezpan. Since your homeland is not far from Oorta¡¯s, step forward and offer your drink to the warrior¡¯s descendant!"

 Chapter 403 - 202: Post-War Summary - Part 2

    The campfire blazed fiercely, driving away the chill of the night, and casting the faces of the generals in a ruddy glow. On these steady faces, there was both the ferocity from after the clash, the uplift from a great victory, and the pleasure from celebrations; mixed with emotions of either obvious closeness or covert distancing.


    It was now past the middle of February, and the great army had been campaigning for close to a year. Xiulote led the Northern Army to a series of unending victories. Generals from all over gathered under the banner of the Black Wolf, crowding around His Highness to form a powerful legion. They thrived on collective success and gradually drew closer to each other, forming the beginnings of different factional outlines.


    At this moment, with a word from His Highness, the generals all focused their attention and examined the two surrendered Tarasco generals in the great tent.


    Ezpan bowed to His Highness, relieving himself of the awkwardness. He stepped forward a few paces, coming to Oorta¡¯s side with a pleased smile and raised his glass in a toast.


    "Sky Family Head, I celebrate your joining us! Since childhood, I have heard of the Sky family¡¯s fame, soaring high above the clouds. To meet you here today truly fills me with heartfelt emotion and overwhelming joy!"


    Upon hearing this, Oorta showed a smile and respectfully returned the salute. He was still too young, having never lived a lowly life, unable to discern the complex emotions in these words, and sincerely said,


    "Thank you for your congratulations, General Ezpan! You are so skilled in battle, may I ask from which glorious family do you hail? I hope we can grow closer and learn much from each other in the future!"


    At Oorta¡¯s friendly gesture, Ezpan felt a surge of pleasure mixed with indescribable complexity. Just a few years ago, he was merely an ordinary Militia Captain, as insignificant as grass crouched on the ground. In the Tarasco Kingdom, where bloodlines mattered most, his life was destined to struggle in the mud, never seeing a day of prominence! The Great Nobility of Tarasco, lofty and out of reach like the sky, never deigned to give him a glance. Yet now, the venerable Sky Family Head was bowing before him, smiling and ingratiating!


    Ezpan looked towards the respected His Highness, who also smiled warmly back at him. His heart surged with emotions as he faced His Highness once more and bowed deeply from the heart. Then, standing firmly in place, he looked at the young Oorta, straightening his back. The frustrations of over a dozen mundane years suddenly dissipated, and a higher desire blossomed in his heart.


    He pondered for a moment, reorganizing his thoughts, and spoke with a calm smile,


    "I come from a common family, and it is only by loyally following His Highness that I have attained this glory today. Sky Family Head, following the wise His Highness is the most correct choice in your life! Let us praise the Chief Divine, and extol the brave and wise General Ahonda, who will ascend to the Divine Kingdom of the Chief Divine!" S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After that, Ezpan raised his glass with his left hand that had only four fingers, and touched it heavily with Oorta¡¯s, saying with deep meaning,


    "Sky Oorta of Chapala, for the sake of our hometown¡¯s roots, I have two pieces of advice for you to consider as guidelines for action. Following the great His Highness is like following the newly risen sun; believing in the supreme Chief Divine is like believing in the encompassing sunlight. Loyalty and devoutness are our only paths, and they are also the shortcuts to the light!"


    Oorta paused, looking at the confident and imposing General Ezpan, and at the spine that had straightened without him realizing it, as if he was witnessing grass transform into something grand. After a while, he hurriedly expressed his thanks and downed his drink.


    Xiulote observed everything with a smile, nodded, and patted Ezpan¡¯s shoulder. The Mexica legion could conquer the land of Tarasco, but to establish truly effective rule, they must incorporate the local heroes. He would treat everyone as equals to the greatest extent, offering a continuous upward path of integration.


    After that, the generals also came up one after another and had a drink with Oorta. In no time, the young Family Head was flushed with alcohol, his mind groggy. His Highness seemed to ask him something, and he answered each question truthfully, until finally collapsing drunk on the carpet.


    Xiulote waved his hand, and two guards came forward to take Oorta to rest in a corner. The merit discussion in the great tent continued. The Young Commander summoned the Warrior Camp Chiefs, lavished praise on the Longbow trusted aide, the Royal Family Archers, and the Stirrup Crossbowmen from the Temple Guards. The three thousand Shooting Legion suffered only a couple hundred casualties but rained down tens of thousands of Feathered Arrows. They killed thousands of City-State Warriors and Militia, utterly crushing the enemy¡¯s militia troops at the front!


    "Crossbowmen are the Alliance¡¯s strength! However, the expenditure of Arrows is truly astronomical., and the logistical pressure is as heavy as a mountain. The amassed Arrows of several months were all but used up in one battle, leaving barely any remaining. The production cost of these Arrows is even higher than that of Gunpowder Bullets!"


    Xiulote pondered thoughtfully, his head aching a little. War is an endless consumption of life and Wealth, rapidly burning away in the Fire of conflict. After this battle, the legion needed to recuperate, the prisoners needed to be trained, and supplies awaited transportation...


    "All these myriad tasks, I¡¯ll just leave them to father to handle!"


    Thinking of the support from the rear, the Young Commander relaxed and smiled. He beckoned the nobles from the Western City-States closer, and spoke out loud in praise,


    "The Western City-State legion crushed the enemy¡¯s outermost Militia, aiding the flanks in their attack, and also made a significant contribution! You¡¯ve proven your valor and your family¡¯s glory! The War God will bless you!"


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s commendation, the nobles from the western city-states stood tall and proud, spirits soaring. In this battle, they first encountered the enemy Militia, slaying and capturing many, and then they chased down the enemy¡¯s supplies, seizing a rich cache of booty. The four thousand well-equipped City-State Warriors suffered only four to five hundred casualties, mostly slight wounds.

 Chapter 404 - 202 Post-war Summary Part 2

    Even within the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s grand tent, the nobles from various places still felt good. They forcefully patted their exposed chests, competing against each other, quietly boasting of their own bravery.


    With a smile, Xiulote surveyed the nobles before him. All faces similarly beamed with smiles as they loudly greeted him, congratulating His Highness on his victory.


    "True bravery does not lie in a Samurai who kills the enemy alone but in a heart bestowed by the Heavenly Divine! A brave heart is never blind; it can discern changes on the battlefield and contribute to the grand strategy of the war! Remember, the bravery of one is but a low hill by the lakeside, while the bravery of multitudes is a Divine Mountain towering over the highlands!"


    The Young Commander¡¯s smile faded, and his words took on a hint of thunder. His stern gaze swept across the faces of the City-State nobles, his right hand resting on the Long Dagger at his waist. The nobles felt a chill in their hearts and obediently fell silent, bowing their heads, much like wolves facing the Wolf King.


    The fierce gaze did not last long. The majestic His Highness merely tapped the City-State nobles lightly, giving a slight warning before laughing aloud again.


    "In this great battle, the bravest among the City-State legion was from the Mountain Clan of Tlalocan! Though they numbered only in the hundreds, they mustered the courage to pursue a thousands-strong Feathered Militia! They defeated the nobles of Chapala and captured the noble banners! Come forward, Commander of the Mountain Clan, to accept this valiant honor!"


    Finally, hearing His Highness¡¯s reward, the young Izel¡¯s complexion turned reddish, overwhelmed with emotion. He strode forward and knelt before the exalted His Highness.


    "Respected His Highness, the Mountain Clan will fight for the Chief Divine, for the Alliance, and die for Your Highness!"


    Xiulote scrutinized the stepping forward Izel, slightly puzzled. This did not match the memory he had of the Mountain Clan¡¯s Commander.


    &"Courageous Samurai, are you the Commander of the Mountain Clan? Tell me your name!"


    "Izel, Izel of the Mountain Clan! I am the succeeding Commander of the Mountain Clan; my elder brother bravely fell in the recent battle, gloriously proceeding to the Divine Kingdom!"


    Izel suppressed his emotions, striving to display a look of sadness and longing.


    Hearing this, the Young Commander nodded knowingly.


    "Izel, ¡¯eyes in the shadows, a face unseen¡¯. That is a beautiful name. Are you the illegitimate child of the Mountain Clan?"


    The Mountain Clan, named after the Divine Mountain of the west, claims to be the descendants of the Earth Mother Goddess; they would never give such a name to a direct heir.


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s inquiry, Izel suddenly grew nervous. He felt unsettling, responding in a low voice.


    "Yes, Your Highness. My mother is a commoner... I will take up the Mountain¡¯s banner, fight courageously, and loyally follow you!"


    Xiulote watched the young man kneeling before him. He saw a familiar glow in the other¡¯s eyes, a desire that came from deep within.


    Eyes in the shadows, a face unseen... Tlalocan is located in the western Mexican Valley, a strategic location, where the Lerma River first flows... The Mountain Clan is a noble family with nearly a thousand private militia; this time they sent five hundred...


    Xiulote¡¯s thoughts raced, and he made his decision within moments! He smiled warmly, kindly patting Izel¡¯s shoulder.


    "A true warrior, no matter their lineage, brings glory to the entire family! Izel, like you, my mother was also a commoner. In today¡¯s battle, you have proved yourself! Judging the situation accurately and pursuing effectively, you possess wise eyes and a brave heart!"


    The Young Commander¡¯s eyes twinkled with mirth. Being the overall Commander-in-Chief, he naturally knew Izel¡¯s "adequately timely" pursuit. This was a family bastard with flexible tactics and not lacking the courage to change his fate.


    "Thus, I will give you this opportunity!"


    Xiulote made up his mind, laughing out loud. He took the Obsidian Long Dagger from his waist and extended it to the kneeling Izel, as if presenting a tablet of fate.


    "The Alliance values military merits the most, and I most favor the warriors! Izel, you possess the bravery of multitudes. I gift you this personal weapon as a proof of your honor!"


    Hearing His Highness¡¯s words, Izel incredulously raised his head, looking at the noble arm extended towards him. Trembling, he took the Dagger, clutching it tightly. Then, the young Samurai obediently bowed his head, allowing His Highness¡¯s palm to rest on his head, performing a ritual of loyalty.


    "Your Highness, you are the brilliant sun, shining over the skies of Tarasco! I will lead the Mountain Clan¡¯s warriors, vow to follow you to death!"


    The Young Commander naturally clasped the young warrior¡¯s head, softly whispering with a smile.


    "The sun shines not only in the sky but also on the Divine Mountain of the west. Prove your loyalty and bravery, and you will gain everything you desire!"


    Then, Xiulote looked around at his generals, speaking in a deep voice.


    "The Chief Divine blesses the brave warriors, and the Alliance places military achievements above all. Anyone who makes their mark in battle can inherit their family estate, even a child born out of wedlock. Anyone who bravely kills the enemy, a Militia can be promoted to Samurai, and a Samurai can be promoted to Nobility! And he who destroys a kingdom can be crowned a king!"


    At this point, Xiulote paused briefly. His expression was solemn as he gazed at each commander in the tent, speaking word by word.


    "Whether you are Royal Warriors or City-State Warriors; whether you are Spear Militia or Tribal Huntsmen; whether you are part of the Mexica Legion, the Otomi Legion, or the surrendered Tarasco Legion! You are all my warriors, my commanders! The light of the Chief Divine shines upon His citizens, and the foundation of the Alliance is built on military achievements. I will treat everyone equally and give each of you opportunities!"


    The young commander¡¯s gaze moved across the commanders, lingered briefly on the faces of Natali and Ezpan, and finally settled on Oorta, who was pretending to sleep.


    "Remember, loyalty and piety are the only paths. And your ability and achievements will determine how far you can go! My commanders, unite. March south, conquer the Capital City, and vanquish the Tarasco Kingdom. I shall crown myself king here and share it with you!"


    Calm words came from His Highness¡¯s mouth but struck like thunder from the sky. The minds of the commanders inside the tent went blank; even though such rumors had been spreading, everyone was still stunned and disoriented. After a moment, "Monkey" Kuluka and the veteran Etalik exchanged glances and congratulated in unison.


    "To destroy a kingdom and to be crowned king, we celebrate for our lord!"


    "The sun rises to the middle of the sky, bathing the land of the lake in its light!"


    Thereafter, the commanders who regained their senses bowed their heads one after another, declaring their resolve.


    "Conquer Qinchongcan City, exterminate the Tarasco Royal Family! The Hummingbird of the Holy City shall establish a nation in the Land of the Hummingbird!"


    This was the fierce Jaguar, Olosh.


    "The glory of the Chief Divine shall illuminate the land of foreign gods, bringing light to every citizen caught in darkness!"


    This was the devout Divine Legion Commander, Natali.


    "Following the newly risen sun, let all the people of the Prepetcha bathe in Your Highness¡¯s radiance and walk the vast paths!"


    This was the loyal Surrendered General, Ezpan.


    ...


    "I wish to be Your Highness¡¯s eyes, stationed upon the highlands of the west, gazing towards the sunrise in the East!"


    This was the young warrior beside him, Izel.


    Xiulote slightly turned his head to look at Izel, a satisfied smile appearing on his face. Outside his line of sight, Oorta lay on the mat, his expression complex and changing, murmuring softly.


    "As the old sun sets and the kingdom falls... I only wish to preserve my homeland, allowing the sky to return above the lake..."


    After the excited cheers, there was hearty drinking. The commanders opened their hearts, shouting loudly, and drank together in clusters. As the wine continued to flow, warriors began to perform lively war dances and chant traditional poems.


    "Life in this world is nothing but a song, a dance, a battle! Watch the spring flowers burst into spectacular bloom, watch the autumn leaves rustle as they fall. A warrior¡¯s life and death are but moments, yet the glory of the battlefield lasts forever!..."


    In the midst of the noisy commotion, some began to sing praise to the divines, perfectly complementing the poems. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Only the stars twinkle in the night sky. Only the moon scatters darkness. Only the sun shines over the world!


    Qiming, the star of the East, I follow your direction, seeking the trajectory of rebirth.


    The moon that envelops the sky, I respect your power, yielding to the fate of death.


    And the sun that illuminates the earth, you are everything to me, deciding rebirth, deciding death!


    Praise to you, God of rebirth and death, Xiulotel!..."


    The commanders deliberated throughout the night, indulging in joyous drinking. Xiulote savored the wine of victory, deep in contentment and half-lucid, leaning back in his seat of honor, gazing up through the tent¡¯s skylight where the starlight and moonlight gradually dimmed and dawn silently rose, slicing through the vast night sky. Outside the tent, as night came to an end, the sky heralded the dawn.

 Chapter 405 - 203: Conversion and Release

    The morning sun rose from the Divine Mountain in the Eastern Valley, illuminating the fertile plains of the Lake Region in the west. The plain was covered with deep red traces of slaughter, extending all the way to the end of the river. At the crisscrossing center of these traces lay the boundless Mexica encampment, like a hunter in a red spider web, enjoying the tranquility after the hunt.


    The large army encamped in the open, simply arranged yet filled with a solemn atmosphere. Over twenty thousand elite troops were stationed in the camp, guarding a vast number of captives. Patrolling elites, archers, and staff in hand, spread out for miles, vigilantly guarding against the southeast direction.


    First came the loud cries of eagles from afar, then appeared the fierce figures of Jaguar warriors. They wore colorful Leather Armor, escorting the bound Samurai warriors of the enemy. These elite Battle Groups, not lacking in meat, could see clearly at night, the only ones to pursue throughout the night. For the merit of capturing prisoners, they had chased throughout the entire night, sparing valueless Militia, now finally returning with satisfactory spoils of war. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote sat cross-legged in the large tent at the center, dealing with the complex military affairs after the battle, listening to the continuous reports from the warriors. Despite not having slept all night, he was still spirited, memorizing all the military information. Only when the cooking smoke rose from outside the tent and the guards brought in steaming cornbread did he finally relax, stretching his back, and looked towards Olosh beside him.


    "So, in this great battle, we lost over fifteen hundred warriors, defeated thirty thousand of the Chapala Legion, and captured more than ten thousand prisoners?"


    The robust Jaguar warrior nodded. He looked at the calm expression of the Young Commander and smiled contentedly, saying,


    "This was a victory blessed by the divinity, and it will also be an epic that shall be sung and passed down! Nearly fifty thousand warriors lined up for battle on the plain, their shouts thunderous, even the birds flying overhead were frightened into falling due to the noise of the slaughter! Well, we can let the poets note down a poem: The Chief Divine watches over the battlefield of the divine war, blessing His Divine Revelation. He bestowed us with a Thunderbolt of unmatched force, granting the Mexica a destined victory!"


    After laughing, Olosh recalled his experiences of the battle, summarizing it briefly.


    "The Chapala Legion was actually quite brave, the Militia fearless like Canine Descendants. Only, a pack of wolves led by a fox will be completely defeated and scattered. Of the thirty thousand enemy troops, less than one-third managed to escape back to the Lake Region; that is, three thousand warriors of the Feather Battle Group, and over six thousand demoralized Militia. After this battle, the Chapala Lake Region will no longer pose any threat to our rear!"


    Xiulote thought for a moment, then grinned knowingly. After this great defeat, the internal turmoil within the Chapala Lake Region would be intense, and external chaos would erupt, leaving them unable to attend to their own affairs.


    The Feather Family Head, responsible for the defeat yet also the only one who retained a significant force of Samurai, had limited options. Regardless of whether the envoy he sent played a sufficient role, once the news of the main force¡¯s annihilation spread, the migrating Guamal Canine Descendants from the north and the resisting Tecos Tribe from the west would surely respond by attacking the weakest foe.


    "Then, the seriously wounded or dead enemy soldiers numbered around ten thousand, although the warriors did not count precisely. We do not have extra medicine for injuries. If the wounded people of Chapala can¡¯t walk on their own, they always end up returning to dust; better to sacrifice them on the spot."


    Xiuluo nodded calmly. In the battlefields of the Middle Ancient Times, the lack of medical supplies and transportation meant that serious injuries meant death. Even if it was one of our own warriors, unless they had a special status, this was often the case, let alone captured enemies.


    "The remaining ten thousand or so enemy troops are now either our Surrendered Army or prisoners. In the camp, there are about three thousand captured Chapala Samurai, including those from the Sky Battle Group, all worth a great deal of effort to reorganize. Among the surrendering Militia are two thousand skilled Archers considered rare elites, usable indeed."


    "However, the remaining six thousand Chapala Militia are a large problem. They will create too much of a burden for our logistics and represent an extremely unstable group of prime-aged individuals, needing sufficient manpower to suppress."


    As he spoke, Olosh paused briefly. He looked at the resolute Young Commander, his eyes indifferent to life and death, his words chillingly frank.


    "According to Alliance custom, when an army is on a campaign, once a great victory is achieved, and if there are too many prisoners, a grand sacrifice is conducted after the war. We offer lives to the Chief Divine, thanking the War God for His blessing!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote slightly lowered his gaze, his internal scale swaying back and forth, continuously weighing.


    Mobilizing troops over long distances, logistics are always the greatest pressure. The hinterland of Tarasco had been emptied by the enemy, the countryside save for the sturdy noble Manors was full of displaced people and wild fields. The long supply line began from the Lake Capital City, running down the river, passing through the Rivermouth Fortress, and reaching the front line at Huayamo Fortress. Each portion of food delivered to the front line was immensely precious; this was the foundation of the Legion¡¯s campaign.


    At this moment, the troubles caused by these ten thousand unstable prisoners to the Legion were perhaps even greater than when they were enemies.


    After a while, Xiulote shook his head and made up his mind.


    "Olosh, the religion is being reformed, the Chief Divine aims to show mercy. If the Alliance wants to establish a solid rule here, we cannot leave behind too much bloody hatred. Slaughtering the prisoners would admittedly solve the problem once and for all, yet it would result in the loss of popular support. Since I stand atop the high mountain, I should be looking towards the distance. Why not let the imprisoned Militia go so they can spread tales of the Legion¡¯s valiance and mercy far across the Chapala Lake Region."

 Chapter 406 - 203: Conversion and Release_2

    Olosh first responded aloud, then frowned slightly and suggested in a low voice,


    "Your Highness, simply releasing the prisoners may not achieve the effect you envisage. The sun burns with blood for its orbit, where light and slaughter go hand in hand. We always need to select among the captives, to reward and punish accordingly."


    After pondering for a while, Xiulote¡¯s expression became solemn as he commanded aloud,


    "Then summon the accompanying priests, sacrifice the wounded of the enemy army, and hold a grand religious conversion ceremony for the prisoners! I will preside over the ceremony personally, with Etalik and Natali as my assistants, and let the Religious Knights join in as well. Tell the Militia via Ezpan that as long as they believe in the Chief Divine, they are children blessed by the god and can be released mercifully! If they refuse to convert... then they shall be dealt with as usual."


    Upon hearing this, Olosh respectfully saluted, bowed his head to receive the order, and strode away.


    Soon, the priests erected a high platform, lit a blazing Sacred Fire, and sang ancient chants. The Religious Knights donned their Armor and wielded sharp weapons, their faces alight with fervor, forming a vast circle. This marked the beginning of the divine sacrifice ceremony. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Chapala captives, filled with fear, wept and wailed as they were escorted by thousands of Mexica warriors, gathering in the camp where the ceremony was to be held. Next, the already surrendered Tarasco people approached them. They reassured the Chapala captives in the Lake Region dialect, relaying the Highness¡¯s will: as long as they sincerely converted, they would be forgiven!


    The captives gradually quieted down. The sacred chants floated on the wind, reaching far into the Lake Region. As the sun climbed to its zenith, Xiulote donned his Ceremonial Dress and ascended the highest temple platform, chanting the ancient liturgy.


    Then, the pale blue Sacred Fire was lit, the priests prayed loudly to the Chief Divine, and began their frenzied dance. Warriors swung their weapons, struck their shields, releasing fervent cries. Finally, the gunners ignited the fuses of the wooden cannons, allowing the weapons gifted by the gods to thunder once more, resonating through the heavens and earth! Amidst the thunderous noise, the countless captives prostrated themselves in terror. They bowed to the flames of the Chief Divine, to the roaring wooden beasts, to the High Priest on the temple stage.


    Following that, the Temple Guards sounded the whistle of death, announcing the sacrifices to be made. The god-blessed warriors then solemnly brought forth thousands of injured enemy soldiers and hundreds of captured Chapala Nobility. They showed no mercy as they brandished the sacrificial Daggers before the Sacred Fire, allowing the vigorous flow of life to return to the earth. The priests prepared the blood wine for conversion using the blood of the Silver Family, placed it around the Sacred Fire, and then summoned the frontline Sky Warriors.


    In the midst of the massive and stirring ceremony, Oorta, trembling with fear, was the first to step forward. He looked up fearfully at the Highness on the platform, resplendent and august, then lowered his head to drink the Blood Wine to the dregs. The rich taste of blood unfolded in his mouth, the flavor of a noble¡¯s honor, and the end of the Silver Family. Thinking this, he couldn¡¯t stop shaking, fell to his knees before the Sacred Fire, and presented his hair to the priest before him.


    The aged priest, wielding an Obsidian Dagger, cut off the hair of the Family Head of the Sky and cast it into the pale blue flames. The acrid smoke rose, also carrying away a part of the young lord¡¯s spirit. The old Priest smiled kindly and recited a brief prayer. Oorta, with words that seemed to be imbued with Magic Power, then sang to the sun in the sky, praising the supreme Chief Divine.


    "Praise the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! He is almighty, omnipotent. Those who believe in the god shall be saved... regardless of their place of birth, the nature of their bloodline..."


    In the stimulating smoke, Oorta¡¯s tears streamed down as he murmured the last sentence. Two thousand Surrendered Army members of the Sky then followed in succession, drinking the wine, cutting their hair, and performing the ritual of conversion. They followed their new Family Head, henceforth loyal to the Alliance, and embraced by the Chief Divine.


    Only a few dozen warriors refused to convert and were promptly dragged away by the Temple Guards to be sacrificed. The warriors who would not surrender met the same fate. Their low, mournful cries drowned in the rising prayers, fading without a trace.


    After the Chapala warriors, it was the turn of the captured Militia. While witnessing the fate of those who refused, and filled with a longing to return home, the majority of them obediently converted to the Chief Divine, bowed reverently to the ground, chanting the divine name inaccurately, and praying to the fierce flames.


    The conversion ceremony was grandiose and prolonged, accompanied by increasingly loud recitations. Until the sun declined in the west, the divine name of the Chief Divine "Huitzilopochtli" had already echoed across the fields, deeply engrained in everyone¡¯s hearts!


    Xiulote stood for half a day, and by now had sat down cross-legged. His expression was solemn, like a sacred statue, without superfluous words. Olosh took his place, loudly proclaiming, "The captured Chapala Militia have all converted, turned to the glory of the Chief Divine. All but the Archers, the remaining six thousand captives shall be released on the spot, as promised!"


    Afterwards, the surrounding Mexica Samurai parted to the left and right, creating a passage leading west. Seeing the release as agreed upon arrive, the Chapala Militia were afraid to believe it, and for a moment, no one dared to move. They looked at each other, complex emotions shifting on their faces, urging one another with their eyes.


    Ezpan repeated the instructions in the Tarasco dialect, ordering the Militia not to flee south but to head west to their homeland.


    Then, a brave captive stood up. He loudly chanted the name of the Chief Divine, looking anxiously left and right, stepping out of the crowd, until he was more than a dozen steps away from the Mexica Samurai, then suddenly he sprinted westward at high speed.


    Seeing this, the captives in the camp fell silent. They were uneasy, watching the Samurai on the perimeter to make sure no one moved to capture them or draw a bow to shoot, before suddenly becoming restless. The Chapala Militia bowed their heads as they walked, chanting the newly learned name of the Chief Divine as if it were a protective talisman. They were like a panicked herd of deer, clustering together then scattering in all directions, then sprinting westward swiftly until they became tiny dots on the horizon.


    Oorta knelt on the ground, eyes fixed on the Militia heading west, showing deep envy. Then, he glanced at His Highness on the platform who was smiling and suddenly felt a sense of closeness, along with a bit of inexplicable trust.


    "Perhaps, pledging loyalty to the Alliance, following His Highness, would be a correct choice..."


    The young scion of the Sky family bowed his head, clutching the Sun Amulet around his neck, whispering a prayer, a gift from His Highness.


    Xiulote smiled, watching as the six thousand Militia chanted the Divine¡¯s name and were successively released and departed.


    He knew that most of the Chapala people revered him only for a moment, and as long as they could escape back home, they would return to the worship of the Trinity Gods. However, this experience would be like a seed planted in their hearts, waiting for the times to change, to germinate one day in the future. It was also like a brand etched deep into the souls of the Militia, forever distinguishing them from the people around them.


    "With the threat to our rear resolved, and current affairs dealt with, it¡¯s time to head south to the Capital City!"


    Xiulote rose to his full height, his eyes bright as he gazed towards the southeast skyline.


    From the battlefield in the southeast and only several days¡¯ journey from the battlefield lay the Capital City of Tarasco, Qinchongcan City. Many soldiers from the scattered Chapala Legion would spread the outcome of the great battle quickly to the Capital City, throughout the south, and then towards the frontline to the southeast. The tide of the battle would change once again, and new opportunities for combat would arise.


    Afterward, Xiulote turned and glanced at the northeast route they had come from before calmly stepping down from the high platform amidst the cheering of the Samurai. With a powerful punch, he broke the enemy¡¯s arm and quickly withdrew, conserving energy for the next surge of attack. And the next strike would aim for the enemy¡¯s vital point!


    The next day, twenty thousand Mexica main forces broke camp and headed north, under the watchful eyes of Tarasco Scouts, taking with them five thousand Surrendered Army, returning to the Huayamo Fortress to the northeast. Over the next ten or more days, the army was constantly in training and deployment, maintaining minimal contact with Qinchongcan City a hundred miles to the south.


    Meanwhile, to the southeast of Qinchongcan City and outside the small town of Patzcuari, traces of the Mexica army became increasingly active. Longbow Hunters continuously ambushed supply carriers, but the capital of Tarasco lacked Samurai, with no soldiers to deploy. When the warm March weather arrived with the spring breeze, the supply routes to the southeast would become difficult to sustain!

 Chapter 407 - 204: Urgent Winds in the Capital City

    The warm spring wind came from the ocean, bringing moist and fresh air that uplifted the spirits. Sunlight scattered over the tranquil Lake Patzcuaro, creating bright sparkles like the smile of a deity. The lake surface, like a massive silver mirror, reflected the clouds in the sky, casting shadows of an unknown future.


    In the sky, flocks of geese occasionally headed north, singing the song of flight, overlooking the peaceful waterside. Along the shore of the lake, the fertile fields were already covered with lush wild grass and unidentified wildflowers. Rabbits jumped in the fallow fields, and birds nested in desolate villages. The tropical monsoon never ceased; when human traces vanished, new life quietly emerged. It erased all cruel marks, painting a picture of natural abundance. This was March in the lands around the lake, the vast fertile ground promised by the Heavenly Divine.


    Old Militia Chiwaco stood atop the tall walls of Qinchongcan, blind to the scenic water towns outside the city. Clad in Samurai leather armor decorated with hummingbird patterns, a Tarasco soft circlet on his head, and gripping a sharp copper spear one and a half men tall, he exuded an uncommon valor. At this moment, his face bore a fierce expression as he gripped a middle-aged Militia man by the collar with his free left hand, repeatedly questioning him with a severe tone. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Just how many are in the Mexica army from the north?"


    "Many, as numerous as the corn in the fields," the middle-aged Militia man said wearily. His face was yellow with starvation, his body covered in dirt from hiding, just like a groundhog emerging from the fields.


    "How many reinforcements have come from Chapala?"


    "Very many, more than the pumpkin leaves in the fields."


    "Comparing your forces to the Mexica, which is greater?"


    This was a difficult question. The middle-aged Militia man stood still, counted on his fingers for a while, then started uncertainly,


    "It seems... we are more? Our people filled the plains, and there were gaps among the Mexica... Yes, we are more! When we scattered to escape, the Mexica couldn¡¯t catch up, they could only hold on to the troops of the Warrior nobility!"


    "Damn it! Then tell me, why did you flee in defeat after one battle, scattering completely like cowardly ducks?! You¡¯ve been sending messages every other day, boasting that you would come to support us, yet you have not even caught a glimpse of the Capital City¡¯s shadow!"


    Chiwaco roared. His voice trembled, and hidden within the tremble was deep-seated fear. Fear transformed into anger, causing him to push the middle-aged Militia man fiercely against the wall, staring him down intently.


    The middle-aged Militia man struggled like a duck in the water, calling out in panic.


    "Chapala people never fear death in battle! We¡¯ve walked a very long way, coming from our homeland to aid you. It¡¯s just... just that the Mexica Priest used Divine Arts, summoning the Heavenly Divine, unleashing thunderous Thunderbolts! How can mere mortals resist a deity? Even the Divine Descendants couldn¡¯t hold back... I saw the big leader escaping first, so I followed and ran away!"


    Hearing the middle-aged Militia man¡¯s words, Chiwaco paused, slightly loosening his grip. He recalled the fire over Lake Yuriria and the explosions at the Rivermouth fortress, so he asked seriously,


    "Heavenly Divine descending... What were those Thunderbolts like? Were they smoking spheres?"


    The middle-aged Militia man gasped for air. He couldn¡¯t look Chiwaco in the eye and answered with a turned head,


    "The Militia from our village were on the very outskirts of the army, not seeing very clearly. It seemed like two tree trunk like Evil Beasts, emitting earth-shaking roars, then the Thunderbolts would strike within the army... Everyone was scared, many Warrior nobility knelt down... Then the Mexica charged, shouting the Heavenly Divine¡¯s name... Smoking? Indeed there was much smoke, spheres? I don¡¯t know about any spheres..."


    "Tree trunk like Evil Beasts... Roars... Thunderbolts... Smoke..."


    Chiwaco muttered to himself, trying hard to recall the scenes he had seen before, those Longbow Warriors lighting Fire Arrows, the northern barbarians throwing spheres. Soon after, his murky eyes brightened as he continued to press with a harsh voice,


    "Did those tree trunk Divine Beasts require someone to command them before they unleashed Thunderbolts?"


    "It seemed... Indeed, there was an Evil God¡¯s Priest, holding a strange torch... The dreadful Evil God!"


    The middle-aged Militia man tried hard to remember, the nightmare-like scene reemerging, and eventually, his body shook violently.


    "The dreadful Evil God!!... The big leader ran away, the village chiefs are dead, people from my village have scattered, my son is missing too... I got lost, escaping to this place... I must return, I need to go home, my son!"


    Hearing this, Chiwaco¡¯s eyes dimmed. He completely let go, involuntarily sighing. The old Militia looked toward his homeland outside the city, where birds flew up and down over the village, but no more smoke rose from the cooking fires.


    Not far behind, the newly appointed Nnobility, Puap, frowned and strode forward. He grabbed the delirious middle-aged Militia man and slapped him diagonally across the back of the head. The Militia man¡¯s eyes rolled back, and he fell to the ground limp, his noisy voice finally quieting.


    "Old Chi, why do you ask so many questions? It¡¯s bothersome for nothing! If the incompetent people from Chapala are defeated, they are defeated. Look at the solid walls beneath your feet; as long as we keep guard here, could the Mexica possibly fly in?"


    In the presence of the Warrior Captain, Chiwaco immediately bowed, making sure his pointed hat was lower than the forked plumes on the other¡¯s head, a symbol of Tarasco Nnobility.


    "Great Nnobility sir, you are right! It¡¯s just that this matter is of grave importance, and the Mexica always have new-style weapons that could change the outcome of the war..."


    "What use is there worrying about so much? Matters of the state will naturally concern the highest chief! We, as Samurai, only need to follow orders and take care of what¡¯s before us!"

 Chapter 408 - 204: Urgent Winds in the Capital City_2

    "Yes, yes... Noble lord, we will follow your orders!" The old Militia squeezed out a wrinkly smile, respectfully and repeatedly responding.


    Looking at the submissive old Militia, "Huitu" Puap carelessly patted the other¡¯s head. Then, dressed in the vibrant attire of the Hummingbird Nobility, he surveyed the ramparts until the squad of a hundred Samurai all bowed and saluted, only then did he nod his head in satisfaction. Afterward, he called over his loyal Samurai and asked loudly.


    "What have those Tekos barbarians been up to lately?"


    The Samurai loyalist bowed and reported.


    "Lord, the barbarians have been mostly well-behaved. They kidnapped a few ordinary merchants, abducted a dozen or so civilian women, and a few of them died in tribal armed conflicts, nothing major."


    Puap nodded, responding indifferently.


    "As long as they don¡¯t involve the Nobility, the death of a few civilians is no concern. We aren¡¯t planning on giving them any grain anyway. These ragtag Tribes have feuds with each other, fighting and brawling doesn¡¯t matter, but we don¡¯t want them dead. We still need to suppress them a bit, otherwise, I¡¯d have trouble explaining to the High Priest!"


    Hearing this, the loyalist understood and complimented with a smile.


    "That¡¯s right, lord, you¡¯re a big shot who can talk directly to the High Priest!"


    Puap burst into loud laughter, continuing proudly.


    "Our Huitu Clan has served the supreme High Priest for five generations!..."


    Just then, another loyal Samurai came rushing over, anxiously proclaiming.


    "Lord, the Tecos Tribe Militia have heard of the great defeat in the north, and they¡¯ve riled up again! They¡¯ve put forth several representatives, demanding to return west to their homes!"


    His mood deflated, Puap¡¯s face darkened, and he scoffed.


    "Stupid barbarians! Once inside the city, they still think they can escape, as if such good fortune exists?! Even the Noble lords can¡¯t leave now!"


    Then, the newly elevated Nobility clenched the Copper Spear in his hand, eyes flashing fiercely.


    "These barbarians still need to be disciplined. Come with me, pick out two who don¡¯t have connections and are causing the most trouble, and kill them to serve as a warning! Hmm, the High Priest has instructed, we¡¯ll also go and get some more wine, cakes, cotton, and women, to keep the Chieftains appeased."


    At this point, "Huitu" Puap spat forcefully, muttering under his breath.


    "Damn it, the Nobility are behaving themselves, and yet the barbarians are causing trouble in the Capital City, the world truly has changed!"


    The newly minted Noble nonstop talked as his expression shifted. These past few months had been an eye-opener for him. A war like never before had thrown the world into chaos, only the sharp weapons in one¡¯s hands and the following Samurai are the true foundations of standing tall! As for Divine Descendant Nobility, century-old bloodlines, in wartime, they are all mere flesh and cannot escape a spear to the head.


    Having realized this, Puap put on a smiling face, looking back at the Samurai following him.


    "Brothers, after dealing with the barbarians, come with me to the logistics camp to pick up stuff! After that, let¡¯s all have a good time and thoroughly enjoy ourselves!"


    The following Samurai roared with laughter, loudly agreeing. They gripped their weapons tightly, as if holding everything they desired. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Old man Chi, are you coming?"


    Puap turned his head to ask Chiwaco.


    "Noble lord, I¡¯ll stay to guard the ramparts. I need to take care of my daughter when I get back..."


    The old Militia smiled along, his wrinkled face blooming like a flower.


    "Then you just guard the wall, keep an eye on what¡¯s happening outside... you old blockhead, last time everyone else got a pretty woman when we partied, and you ended up with a tiny daughter!"


    Puap slapped Chiwaco on the shoulder with a rough kindness. Then, he smiled at the other six conscripted men. The turban-wearing Weizti shook his head, the bachelor Ayuli readily agreed, half stayed on the ramparts, and the rest followed agilely.


    Puap indeed harbored thoughts of winning over this group of seven Militia.


    These men had seen blood and experienced great battles, clearly different from the strong men hauled in from the city. They were extremely united, and for some reason, they were all led by an unassuming old man. In reality, Puap had personally assessed that each Militia, when separate, had only average Martial Arts skills. But once they formed a Spear Formation, they were quite formidable and could battle with real Samurai. Among those rough Samurai under his command, out of a hundred, only about thirty were truly combat-worthy. This was the situation in most of the newly formed squads in the Capital City.


    As the sun slanted westward, Puap held his head high, leading his men triumphantly away. The Samurai¡¯s laughter carried far, and the civilians along the way cleared out, even the Noble estates were deathly silent. The old Militia silently kept watch on the ramparts until dusk fell, and the replacing Militia arrived, then he took the remaining three Militia and headed back to their dwellings in the city.


    Along the way, the bustling Capital City displayed a hint of desolation. The markets were sparse, few people were about, only the Craftsmen forging weapons worked tirelessly, their "clang-clang" hammering sounds carrying with the wind. Under the setting sun, the sacred "House of Wind" pyramid cast a long shadow, while the magnificent "Palace of Wind" glowed with a bloody light.


    Chiwaco paused to look for a moment, then lowered his head to walk, heading straight for the Civilian District in the southern part of the city. Apart from the Priestly Temple, Royal Palace, and Noble residences, most civilians resided in simple huts, and even ordinary Samurai did the same.


    Passing a large estate, the old Militia took several keen glances; inside were the faint silhouettes of several women. This stone house was recently acquired by Leader Puap, a grand residence with several sections, often calling everyone over to gather and drink. The original owner seemed to be a large spice merchant, who had now been executed for colluding with the enemy, his property all confiscated to replenish military supplies.

 Chapter 409 - 204: Urgent Winds in the Capital City_3

    Chiwaco felt a tinge of envy. It didn¡¯t matter that the house looked nice; the key point was that it was sturdy and spacious. If he had such a large house, he could have everyone live together, support each other, and feel much more at ease. He hurried on his way and finally arrived at a rather large thatched hut. He bid farewell to the two militiamen with a smile, with only Wei Zi following sullenly.


    This was a new house in the Capital City, acquired with the help of the Warrior Captain, and it was the home that Chiwaco cherished and protected. The inside of the hut was pitch black. The seasoned militiaman softly called out twice before he heard some noise in a corner. Then, moving closer and holding up a torch, he found his daughter huddled in that corner.


    "Luwei," he called, "why didn¡¯t you respond when Daddy called you?"


    Little Luwei sat with her head down and her legs hugged to her chest, nestled in a pile of straw in the corner of the house. She was only thirteen years old¡ªoh, she had turned fourteen after the new year¡ªbut she was still a tiny thing. At that moment, with most of her hidden by the straw pile, only her small head was visible, much like a slender reed. In fact, the term "old" militiaman was relative; he was a little over forty, but years of exposure to the elements and relentless toil had aged him prematurely.


    Seeing Luwei silent, Chiwaco sighed. He approached and affectionately touched his daughter¡¯s head. She trembled all over, shrank back out of fear, and only relaxed slightly when she recognized her father¡¯s face. Then she lowered her head again, buried in her knees, remaining silent.


    The old militiaman looked tenderly at his daughter. She was his own flesh and blood, whom he had only just managed to find in the logistics camp, nearly having been offered to the ferocious Tekos. He was filled with dread at the thought, knowing well the fates of those women.


    "Luwei, my Luwei, you¡¯re all I have now, and I¡¯m all you have... Your brother was in the second batch of conscripts, having gone to the southeast frontline long ago. That scoundrel from our village was in the third batch; he too has been sent to the battlefield, and likely he¡¯s already perished. There was another batch a few months ago... You¡¯re my last hope now."


    Chiwaco muttered softly, his heart aching. He had heard from the Capital City¡¯s samurai that the southeastern frontline was exceedingly brutal, even the nobility were dying like weeds, and there was no replenishing the depleted militiamen. His son, inexperienced in battle, was likely a lost cause. Still, without seeing a body, he clung to a thread of hope. His daughter, whom he had finally recovered, was his only solace.


    The old militiaman stroked his daughter¡¯s slender face, filled with distress. He took out a cornbread that had been issued that morning and offered it to Luwei. The bread was missing a corner, marked by a few bite marks. He had only nibbled on it twice in the morning, saving most of it for his daughter. Following the Warrior Captain meant a stable source of food, unlike the commoners in the city who struggled to buy even a scrap of provisions. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luwei took the bread, her eyes lighting up. She bit into it with effort, then let out distressed whimpers. The cooled coarse bread was too hard, and she was too frail to bite through it.


    Chiwaco sighed again. He took back the bread and lit a fire, boiling a pot of water. He carefully softened the bread in the water, checked the temperature to ensure it wasn¡¯t too hot, and then handed it to his daughter along with the clay bowl.


    Luwei blankly watched her father busy himself. Then, her eyes sparkling again, she lowered her head and carefully nibbled on the bread, like a tiny hamster. The old militiaman watched his daughter with a smile on his face. Wei Zi, with a wrapped headscarf, stood a couple of steps away, silently observing the old militiaman watching his daughter, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted.


    After a long time, not until Luwei had finished eating and retreated back into the straw pile, did the old militiaman finally pour himself a bowl of hot water and drank down the leftovers. Then, he turned around with a sober expression and asked.


    "You blockhead, have you still not found your wife and child?"


    Wei Zi sadly shook his head.


    "Uncle, I can¡¯t find them anymore."


    Chiwaco looked at Wei Zi for a moment before asking quietly.


    "Why don¡¯t you want a woman when the nobility ordered you to take one?"


    Wei Zi stood silently for a while before shaking his head again.


    "Uncle, I don¡¯t want to. I... I¡¯m afraid of losing again."


    The old militiaman lowered his eyes and sighed deeply once more. He glanced at his daughter in the straw pile and then at Wei Zi, who stood motionless, before finally speaking.


    "Blockhead, you¡¯ve lost your wife, I¡¯ve lost my son; let¡¯s just muddle through together! Help me look after Luwei."


    Wei Zi remained silent for a long while, not saying anything, just nodding his head firmly. After a long time, he finally asked.


    "Uncle, if our lords are defeated and the Mexica come, what will we do?"


    The old militiaman turned around, removed his leather armor, and hung his pointed cap properly. Then, gripping his long spear, which he never left behind, he said slowly.


    "We¡¯ll take it one step at a time. I must find a way for you, for Luwei, to survive!"


    As he spoke, he looked through the holes in the thatched hut toward the towering Palace of Wind with an intense gleam in his eyes.


    In the heart of the Capital City Qinchongcan, the majestic Palace of Wind still stood tall as if it were in the heavens, looking down upon all beneath it. The wind in the Capital City howled, the battle situation was dire. The commoners were adrift in the storm, the tribal militiamen were restless, the samurai held their weapons aloof, the nobility ceased their song and dance, but the priests continued their all-night chanting, praying with even greater fervor.


    The Chief Minister Jinjinni, with his hands clasped behind his back, stood at the top of the palace, gazing at the flickering lights of the Capital City, like a Divine Envoy imposing upon the mortal realm. The long wind billowed, sweeping over the old man¡¯s white hair and brushing across his aged face. The Chief Minister embraced the chill of the night wind, silent for a long while, like a statue set in stone.

 Chapter 410 - 204: Urgent Winds in the Capital City_4

    In the heavens and on earth, the Capital City¡¯s night was filled with tranquility, only the songs from the sacrificial rites could be heard. After a while, a certain corner of the Capital City suddenly became noisy and clamorous. The vague sound carried with the night wind, prompting the impassive Chief Minister to finally speak with authority.


    "Is that the encampment of the Tecos Tribe?"


    "Yes, Chief Minister," the trusted aide behind him replied, bowing.


    "What has happened?"


    "Puat of the Huitu Clan recently dealt with the noisy Tecos Militia. Now, he¡¯s winning over the chieftains with alcohol, women, and soothing words."


    "Hmm," the Chief Minister nodded calmly, his expression serene. Then he changed the subject.


    "With the news of the defeat in the north, how are the priests in the city, and what about the nobility?"


    "The lower-ranking priests are holding ceremonies day and night without stop. The High Priests have held several secret meetings, without any untimely thoughts. The Elders have gathered the Temple Guards, firmly protecting the Priestly Temple beside the pyramid. The nobility have all been quiet and still, without any recent activity."


    "As the Mexica wage divine war, the Elder Priests have no way out. Despite their shortsightedness, there¡¯s no need for concern at this moment. Keep a close watch on the nobility, especially the Great Nobility with their numerous private armies! These sly wolves cannot be tamed; as soon as the Mexica offer them fiefs and titles, their loyalty will scatter like fallen leaves. If necessary, they can be dealt with decisively!"


    "As you command, Chief Minister!" the trusted aide bowed and obeyed without hesitation.


    Jinjinni looked towards the north. Under the brightness of the moon, the flat plains stretched up to the unknown dangers of the north.


    "How many of the Chapala remnants have we gathered?" the Chief Minister¡¯s voice was somewhat hoarse.


    "Less than a thousand militia. The Mexica sent their Jaguar warriors to drive them out, and most of the disbanded legions have fled westward."


    Jinjinni clenched the Divine Staff in his hand and bit his teeth fiercely.


    "Damn it! The Crocodile has courage but no strategy, the Feathers are all show and no substance; they should all be sacrificed to the gods! One acted rashly while the other fled in cowardice, together they doomed the Kingdom¡¯s north!"


    Hearing the Chief Minister¡¯s anger, the trusted aide behind him bowed his head, not daring to make a sound.


    "Have the remnants made it clear what divine weapon the Mexica used? I know the strength of the Chapala Legion; an army of thirty thousand should not have fallen so easily."


    The Chief Minister asked solemnly, his expression grave.


    "It appears to be a wooden beast several meters long, capable of roaring and emitting smoke, unleashing thunderbolts. The Chapala Legion was suddenly confronted with such a weapon and suffered a tremendous blow to their morale. The samurai¡¯s resolve wavered, the Mexica took advantage and charged, breaking into the central army. Then, the central army¡¯s Feather Marshal was the first to flee, and the legion completely disintegrated."


    The trusted aide explained softly, not daring to add any personal commentary. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Jinjinni frowned and pondered for a long time. The Mexica¡¯s new weapons were emerging one after another, changing the course of the battle time and again. He had no clues and could only sigh softly.


    "The Mexica prince in the north is young yet a formidable opponent!... Have the envoys to the King been dispatched?"


    "Yes, Chief Minister."


    "Send another envoy, warn the King to be wary of the Mexica¡¯s new weapons. Once the Royal Army turns back, they must move with light equipment and swift speed, not lingering on the way!"


    "As you command, Chief Minister!"


    The Chief Minister turned his gaze toward the far southeast. Under the night¡¯s starry sky, the rolling mountains appeared faintly visible, like silent, crouching beasts in the windswept stillness.


    "Has the situation around Patzcuaro changed?"


    After a while, Jinjinni asked again, his voice low and hoarse.


    "Chief Minister, the samurai patrols are insufficient, and the supply transport teams are the same as before..."


    The Chief Minister closed his eyes, saying nothing. After a moment, he sighed deeply.


    "We¡¯ll take it one step at a time. As long as the King withdraws in time, there is still hope. It¡¯s a long night; let¡¯s wait for the dawn!"


    Afterward, there was no more speech, only the profound silence of the darkness. The vast night wind passed through the top of the Palace of Wind, ringing the urgent Copper Bells. The mournful and distant sound of the bells drifted in the vast night. The sad songs of the night lingered in the garden pavilions, flickering in the lights of the sacrificial fires, then disappearing into the thatched huts of the camps. The clouds in the night sky dispersed, where the stars fell was the urgent wind of the Capital City.

 Chapter 411 - 205: Raid

    The night wind traveled from the Capital City southward, sweeping across fifty li of open fields, before pausing briefly in Patzcuaro City. When dawn lit up the sky and earth, the envoy from the Capital City hurriedly set out on their journey, continuing southeast. Over a dozen samurai with the Hummingbird House crest guarded two cloaked envoys, quietly traversing the prairies past the large militia escorting provisions.


    Avoiding the desolate villages and crossing the uninhabited knolls, they arrived at a sparse woodland. The shallow trees of the tropical highland blushed with cherry hues of tender new branches that had just sprouted in the spring breeze. Grass up to a meter high blanketed the wilds, swaying in the wind to create waves, the delicate tips adorned with slightly blue spindles, like an ocean of lavender.


    Soft, verdant Rosy Maple Moth flowers intertwined among the branches, forming layer upon layer of pink buds waiting for the season of bloom. Their flowering season was long, beginning with April¡¯s first rain and lasting until the end of October¡¯s rainy season. The trumpet-shaped blossoms would flourish and fade in the stormy winds, accompanied by the songs of lakeside people busy with farm work¡ªa beauty of the water region etched in the heart of every Tarasco.


    "When the Rosy Maple Moth flowers blossom, and the Heavenly Divine¡¯s tears fall, the Mexica¡¯s supply routes will become treacherous. The Kingdom¡¯s fate lies with the flowers; can we endure until the end of the rainy season?"


    Seeing the familiar flowers and smelling the fresh scent in the wind, the envoy slowed their pace momentarily, pausing in their stride. Heavy with a secret message, aware of the entire picture of the war, their expression carried shades of desolation.


    Suddenly, amidst the distant woods, several reflections of light flickered. The envoy stiffened for a moment, then alarm bells sounded within¡ªObsidian! S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "To arms!..."


    Dozens of hidden Hunters rose swiftly, instantly surrounding the small party of messengers. Their clothing was plastered with long grass, appearing like spirits sprung from the flora, with only the tall leader dressed in green leather armor of a samurai. Without hesitation, the Hunters drew longbows, releasing a chorus of sustaining hums. "Swoosh, swoosh," a torrent of arrows came, penetrating the Tarasco samurai completely, felling them to the ground amidst cries that echoed instantly through the woods.


    The samurai leader concentrated and aimed briefly before erupting with a roar.


    "Aim for the legs!"


    A feathered arrow flew like lightning, accompanied by the whistling wind, and fiercely lodged into the thigh of the central envoy. The envoy immediately became unsteady and fell under the vibrant shallow trees. The accompanying Envoy trembled and crouched before the fallen envoy, struggling to lift him up.


    The Toltec leader roared and released four arrows in quick succession, felling all the standing enemy samurai. Then, he drew his War Club from his waist, giving it a powerful swing, and led the surrounding Militia Tribes towards the fallen envoys.


    The envoy managed to sit up and surveyed the area. The samurai lay on the ground around him, some gravely injured, others dead. He turned to look at the young deputy beside him. Shaken by the sudden turn of events, the deputy trembled as he struggled to draw his Long Dagger but failed to steady his grip.


    The envoy took another look at the approaching Mexica, and forcefully swallowed his saliva. He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, they were filled with ferocity.


    "Come closer."


    The envoy reached for his waist with his right hand and with difficulty beckoned the deputy with his left.


    Upon hearing the call, the young deputy shuddered yet again before hurriedly bending down to draw close.


    "We cannot escape. For the sake of our most exalted King, the message must not leak. So..."


    With a twisted expression and a face full of brutality, the envoy extended his left hand, grabbed the deputy, and then with his right hand wielding the Dagger, he made a swift, forceful slice across the deputy¡¯s neck, causing blood to spray instantly.


    The deputy¡¯s eyes widened abruptly, his neck feeling the cold pain, and his mind flooded with the shock of impending death. He opened his mouth to utter an indistinct "uu-uu" sound, then slumped onto the envoy, weakly awaiting death¡¯s arrival.


    Startled by this sudden act, Toltec bellowed in anger and charged forward, quickly closing the distance to within ten paces of the envoy.


    The envoy gritted his teeth fiercely. His right hand suddenly exerted force, "pu-chi" went the Dagger as he plunged it into his own left chest, burying it to the hilt. Then, the severe pain caused his pupils to constrict rapidly, and the draining blood left him utterly drained of strength. He fell silently back, his eyes fixed on the unopened Rosy Maple Moth flowers overhead, his mouth opening and shutting for a moment before falling silent.


    Toltec leaned over anxiously, checking the two Envoys lying on the ground, then stood up with frustration. He went to inspect the Samurai with the Hummingbird crest, pressing the wounded survivor for information, and found out they were Messengers from the Capital City, heading to the King¡¯s camp to the southeast.


    "Damn it! What message could possibly make these Envoys so fiercely determined?"


    Toltec furrowed his brows, searching the Messengers¡¯ bodies again, finding only wooden plaques painted with hummingbirds and a jade Token. He stood up, looked at them for a while, then waved his hand to call over a trusted Samurai.


    "Did these Hummingbird Samurai reveal any useful information?"


    "Boss, his Highness¡¯s grand army and the Chapala Legion have clashed on the western plains. Thirty thousand enemies wiped out in a day. Bless his Highness! A true great victory!"


    The confidant exclaimed with a face full of joy.


    Upon hearing this, Toltec¡¯s brows lifted, his eyes shone, and he swung his War Club, roaring loudly.


    "Good, very good! Blessed by the Heavenly Divine, I, Toltec, am delighted! Gather the scattered squads, tonight we return to drink and celebrate, and drain all the looted wine! You, act as my Envoy, return to the Huayamo Fortress tomorrow, congratulate his Highness, and then report the latest military intelligence!"


    "Thanks, Boss!" The confidant laughed out loud. Then, his face turned troubled as he counted on his fingers.


    "What military intelligence should I report? Over the past month or two, we¡¯ve attacked five, six, seven grain transport teams, intercepted two, three, four Messengers. Then we took down two patrolling Samurai squads, plundered over a dozen Nobility manors, and sacrificed hundreds of Nobles and Samurai... Can I say it like that?"


    "Idiot, a real idiot!" Toltec knocked on the confidant¡¯s head, exasperatedly saying.


    "What use is babbling all that! I told you to read more books, fight less, but you never took it to heart. Remember, tell his Highness: First, under the attacks of our Black Wolf corps, grain transportation from Patzcuaro has halved, and we have dispersed thousands of Militia. Second, recently, there are an increasing number of Messengers from the Capital City to the southeast, likely carrying urgent military intelligence, details unknown. Third..."


    Toltec scratched his head, thought for a while, and asked the confidant.


    "Have we discovered anything new these past few days?"


    "New discoveries? Oh yes, the number of people in the Tarasco grain transport teams has been increasing, but the amount of grain clearly decreased."


    "Grain decreased? With so many enemies in the southeast, their daily grain consumption is fixed. With our harassment, they should be transporting even more supplies to maintain an ample supply and compensate for losses along the way. Why would it decrease?"


    Toltec mused, continuing to speak.


    "Third, the enemy¡¯s grain transport to the frontline has decreased, which could mean they are running low on food, or there must be an imminent change on the southeast frontline. Please advise his Highness to dispatch the army, head south as quickly as possible."


    The confidant nodded, committing all this to memory. Then, with a cheeky smile, he joked.


    "Boss, with all that you¡¯ve said, it¡¯s hard for me to remember it all. Why not take out pen and paper, write it down for me?"


    "Scram!!"


    Toltec barked angrily, knocking the confidant¡¯s head forcefully. Then he turned and strode away without looking back. Laughter echoed into the distance, leaving behind only the blood-stained grass and the soon-to-blossom red cicada flowers.

 Chapter 412 - 206: The End of the Southern Line

    A gentle breeze blew across the green fields, reaching the rolling mountains. Tall trees spread their branches, concealing the traces of fighting in the forest. The bushes, nourished by life, became even lusher and more verdant. The setting sun lit up the towering stone forts, creating a patchwork of colorful oils painting¡ªthe brown-green of the bricks, the black-gray of the smoke, and the dark red of bloodstains.


    By evening, the battlefield had fallen silent. Hurled stone projectiles lay scattered among the stone forts, and broken feathered arrows were deeply embedded in the soil. In front of the stone forts, on the battlefield, both the Alliance and the Kingdom¡¯s militiamen wore numb expressions and were busily engaged. They collected the relics of fallen samurai and buried the bodies of their respective militias right there. The ground was filled with deep red marks, which not even the rain could wash away. Only the lush green grass could eventually cover the cruel battlefield. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Slender plumes of cooking smoke rose from within the clusters of stone forts, visible from across the forested mountains. The smoke drifted past the stationed samurai, circled the banners on the watchtowers, and rose into the profound sky. Priests accompanying the army began to chant an ancient funeral song, praying for the Heavenly Divine to descend and guide the departed souls.


    The song dispersed in the wind, and flags fluttered. At the top of the clusters of stone forts, different flags fluttered. Over two-thirds had already been replaced with the Mexica Alliance¡¯s Royal Banner, but the remaining third were still the Tarasco Kingdom¡¯s Eagle Banners. The Eagle Banner forts surrounded Apachigan to the northwest, at the heart of which lay the core of Tarasco¡¯s defenses, an impregnable High Mountain Fortress undulating two hundred li across the mountainous area.


    Golden sunlight bathed the fortress atop the mountain, where the King¡¯s flags fluttered proudly on the watchtower. The Royal Family¡¯s eagle spread its wings, soaring toward the western sky. King Su¡¯angua, expressionless, stood at the top of the stone fort. He stared at the hereditary Royal Banner, like a statue carved from stone, letting the setting sun cast long shadows. A few steps away, the King¡¯s Copper-axe Guards, clad in copper helmets and leather armor, wielding copper axes and longbows, solemnly guarded the surroundings.


    As the daylight gradually faded, the dying sun stained the earth red. The young King lowered his eyes and slowly spoke,


    "Is the replacement Royal Banner ready?"


    "Respected King, the replicated new banner is prepared. When night deepens, we will change the hereditary banner," the trusted aide behind him replied, bending forward, his voice low and firm.


    "Summon Southern Route Commander Quiyus. Have him come discreetly, without any followers."


    The King retained his calm tone. He turned around and looked toward the southeastern woodlands. In the last light of the sun, the Mexica people¡¯s Royal Banner stood out in the distance. The blood-red sun soared on the banners, the deep blue War God bloomed with plumes, the yellow-green gemstone glittered brightly, stinging Su¡¯angua¡¯s eyes.


    The King slightly tilted his head back, suppressing the moisture in his eyes. The sky was vast, the mountains majestic, and the fortress beneath his feet was so invincible. The hereditary Royal Banner stood tall at the highest point of the fortress, forever witnessing the glory belonging to the Royal Family.


    From the spring plowing last year to the spring breeze this year, it had been over nine months of fighting. The main force of the Mexica Alliance was firmly blocked within the two hundred li of forests of Apachigan, never able to break through. Tens of thousands of Alliance samurai halted at the last, highest, and most solid defense line, battering themselves bloody, unable to advance even an inch.


    Su¡¯angua quietly reminisced, countless memories of days and nights flooding his thoughts. The shouts of the battle echoed in the sky, and flowing blood submerged the earth. This prolonged southeastern campaign was also about to come to an end, ending bleakly in a way he had not anticipated.


    On this lines of complicated battle, the Kingdom and the Alliance had been entangled for years, already thoroughly familiar with each other¡¯s situations. The Tarasco Kingdom had rallied twenty-three thousand samurai, ten thousand elite militiamen, and fifty thousand regular militiamen, while the Mexica Alliance had mobilized forty-five thousand samurai and over forty thousand militiamen. The colossal battle involving nearly two hundred thousand from both sides was an epic unprecedented in the world!


    The entire campaign was roughly divided into two phases. The first phase saw the Kingdom retract while the Alliance advanced. From last June to October, the Mexica people launched a surprise attack during the spring planting season. Using longbows, stones, fire arrows, and paper fireballs, enhanced by new weapons, they advanced unstoppably. Only when Su¡¯angua led the Royal Legion to arrive, and the Lake Region¡¯s militiamen and Tekos warriors joined in support, was the enemy¡¯s advance gradually withstood. In these four months, the Kingdom lost five thousand samurai and fifteen thousand militiamen, losing about half of their fort clusters. However, the Alliance also suffered six thousand samurai and eight thousand militiamen casualties, holding the advantage in casualties and advances.


    The second phase consisted of both sides holding their lines, forming defenses. From last October to this March, the Mexica people¡¯s advance slowed and eventually halted completely. Facing the mountain-supported High Mountain Fortress, longbows and stone-throwing lost their effectiveness. Mexica samurai hurled ceramic globes, unleashing thunderous explosions, briefly shaking the troops¡¯ morale. Yet, under the sacred Royal Banner, the courage of the Imperial Guards never wavered. The Copper-axe Guards swung their battle axes, killing nearly a hundred Nobility Battle Groups, repelling the fierce attacks of the Mexica samurai.


    When the Kingdom¡¯s archers concentrated their shooting, the exploding clays had no opportunity to reach the castle again. The Capital City¡¯s craftsmen worked tirelessly, supplying five thousand replicated longbows to the front within six months. Thousands of longbowmen spread across the front line¡¯s fort clusters, keeping the Mexica samurai from raising their heads. The Alliance lost the advantage of archery, and the Kingdom¡¯s defenses became extremely solid again. The stone fort clusters held the geographical advantage, making them difficult to conquer. Samurai from both sides fell in swathes between the forts, cautiously contracting afterwards, shifting the focus of attrition to the more vulnerable militiamen. Stone projectiles and arrow storms alternated across the sky, relentlessly striking down the militiamen.

 Chapter 413 - 206 The End of the Southern Line_2

    In the past six months, the Kingdom had lost five thousand Samurai, five thousand elite Militia, and thirteen thousand from the Lake Region Militia. The people of Tarasco had steadfastly held the last third of their fortress clusters, with four thousand of the fallen warriors being reinforcements from Tekos. The Alliance, on the other hand, had suffered casualties of seven thousand Mexica Samurai and twelve thousand Militia. The losses on both sides had started to even out, and the offensive push of the Alliance had been exhausted.


    Over the course of nine months, the forests of Apachigan had devoured nearly eighty thousand warriors and Militia from both sides. Whether they were noble Nobility, fierce Samurai, or ordinary Militia, they all became cold remains, buried long in the mounds amidst the mountains. The only trace they left was an insignificant number in the heart of the Supreme Commander. Such tragic losses caused turmoil among the Nobility on both sides, and the Samurai found it difficult to press on with the attack. Over the past month, the Mexica had completely ceased large-scale Samurai sieges, and had only conducted harassment operations led by the Militia to maintain pressure on the front lines.


    "The Kingdom still has forty thousand warriors left, half of whom are the battle-hardened Samurai and elite Militia groups. The Alliance, probably has over fifty thousand, of which thirty thousand are Samurai. The frontline of Apachigan has now been stabilized, with both sides equally matched, everyone pushed to their limit. The Mexica can¡¯t sustain any more Samurai casualties... so, I¡¯ve held this place!"


    The young King gazed at the dimming sky, screaming in silence. Although he was on the dangerous front lines, he had never betrayed the glory of the Royal Family, proving his worth to his ancestors!


    The Envoys sent to various states had all brought back favorable news. The Holy City Cholula had accepted the treaty of conversion, shifting to a neutral stance. The leaders from Tlaxcala in the East had married into the Royal Family and had already gathered tens of thousands of warriors, invading the border of the Mexica Alliance. The people of Mistec and Zapotecs in the south had also shown a warming attitude. These "people of the clouds" had interrupted their New Year tribute to the Alliance and formed a covert Alliance with the Kingdom, promising to extend help when the situation changed. The Otomi people in the north were embroiled in controversy, divided into two factions with differing opinions. People from Vastec in the northeast, unsatisfied with the oppressive tribute, were also restless. Only the distant Totonac from further east had yet to respond.


    "A significant shift is imminent. Just hold on for another half a year, and the entire situation of this war will change dramatically!"


    Su¡¯angua closed his reddened eyes, tears streaming down silently. He stepped into the shadows of the Watchtower, reached out to touch the banner of his ancestors, and then quietly wiped his face with his sleeve. Then, the young King turned around, gazed towards the Capital City in the northwest, issuing a long sigh and an angry shout.


    "Foolish Ospe... Cowardly Pengguari... Mexica¡¯s ¡¯God of Death¡¯ Xiulote!"


    The young King muttered the three names, his emotions of resentment decreasing in turn, his unwilling desires rising continuously, darkness swallowing his spirit. But no matter how much resentment he held, no matter how unwilling he was, the outcome of this battle could no longer be changed. The reinforcement forces had been completely crushed, supply lines were nearly cut off, and the Capital City was under the enemy¡¯s blades! The only option left before him was the inevitable third phase, a rapid retreat. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Su¡¯angua gazed towards the west, watching the setting sun slowly fall, seeing the shadows encroach upon earth and sky. It was not until his loyal guard lit a bonfire that Quiyus, the Southern Route Commander, donned in War Clothes, hurried over.


    "Respected King, I have just returned from the front-line fortress, please forgive my tardiness!"


    Quiyus knelt on one knee, performing a solemn salute. The Southern Route Commander was about forty years old, with a rugged face. His eyes revealed the vicissitudes of a life well-lived, the visage bore the dignity of the Royal Family, and his bearing was filled with the murderous intent of the battlefield.


    "Uncle Quiyus, no need for such formality. You are the Royal Family¡¯s mighty eagle, flowing with the bloodline of the Tariguri ancestors. You are also the Marshal in the Southern Army that I trust the most!"


    Su¡¯angua walked forward and lifted Quiyus to his feet. Then he grasped the other man¡¯s arm, gazing into the eyes of the Southern Route Commander.


    "Uncle, do you still remember the glory of our ancestors?"


    Hearing the word "Uncle" and seeing the eyes of the King, Quiyus paused briefly. Then, with a resolute nod, he answered loudly.


    "Under the banner of the eagle, I shall shed my blood until death takes me!"


    The King watched silently for a moment. Then, he let go, stepped back two paces, and disappeared into the shadows of the Watchtower.


    "Uncle, the Mexica have defeated Pengguari¡¯s reinforcements. They are about to surround the Capital City, cutting off Patzcuaro City¡¯s supply lines."


    Quiyus was struck by shock. He widened his eyes and asked in a low, angry voice.


    "The thirty-thousand-strong army from Chapala, so easily defeated?! Your Majesty, has this news been confirmed?"


    Su¡¯angua nodded slowly. His voice came softly, but his changing visage was obscured.


    "It¡¯s a secret message from the chief of Jinjinni. Outside the Capital City, there are no more reinforcements. The food supply in Apachigan can last a little over a month. The news of the shortage can¡¯t be hidden for much longer... This defensive line, it can no longer be held."


    Quiyus stood speechless. He displayed an incredulous expression, then suddenly turned, looking towards the western lands. At that moment, the sun had completely set, the plains were shrouded in shadows, and all that lay before him was profound darkness.


    "This defensive line, it can¡¯t be held any longer..." the Southern Route Commander repeated unconsciously. Then, he suddenly started, looking up at the King.


    "Your Majesty, have you summoned me, for...?"


    Su¡¯angua fell silent for a moment before speaking calmly.


    "The Capital City is in grave danger, I must quickly return with my troops, preserving the last hope. The Tlaxcalans have already sent out their forces, as long as the Capital does not fall, the glory of our ancestors can continue... Uncle, you are the Royal Family¡¯s mighty eagle, and the person I trust the most! Only you can take charge of the situation in the southeast!"

 Chapter 414 - 206 The End of the Southern Line_3

    Quiyus looked past the King, gazing towards the flag on the watchtower. The Tarasco eagle soared in the wind, enveloped by the cloak of nightfall. After a moment, he knelt again on one knee, bowing deeply to the King.


    "Beneath the banner of the eagle, my blood shall flow, ceaselessly until death," he avowed.


    Su¡¯angua emerged from the shadows, his expression solemn, lifting his respected uncle to his feet.


    "Uncle, I must depart before dawn tomorrow, taking with me two thousand Imperial Guards, three thousand spear Militia, and five thousand Samurai of the Kingdom. The road back to the Capital City spans over four hundred miles, and to guard against Mexica raids, the march cannot proceed too swiftly. I need you to hold here, for another fifteen days!"


    Quiyus nodded silently. He closed his eyes and pondered for a moment before quietly suggesting.


    "Your Majesty, you might take more troops, to preserve more of the Kingdom¡¯s vitality. I can hold out here!" Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Su¡¯angua shook his head calmly, having already fully considered it and now not a moment¡¯s hesitation.


    "I have already taken all the disciplined and loyal Samurai capable of fighting. I¡¯m entrusting to you the two thousand foreign Mercenaries, to keep the six thousand Tekos Samurai at bay. These vassal Samurai scattered across the front-line fortresses, once they retreat, will surely be noticed by the Mexica. They are also not fit to be brought into the Capital City. And the remaining twenty-two thousand Militia, unable to operate at night and unable to keep secrets, I¡¯ll leave them all to you, along with two thousand Longbows!"


    "The Capital City is in peril, the Chief Minister, though of eminent prestige, is unable to unify the Nobility and High Priest. If the situation becomes dire, there may well be unforeseen events. This time I¡¯m returning with the troops to replant the Royal Banner atop the ¡¯Palace of Wind¡¯ to stabilize the military morale in the Capital City. The retreat must be swift! I can only take ten thousand elite men. And as long as these ten thousand return to Qinchongcan, the Capital City will be as firm as the Divine Mountain in the west!"


    At that, the King looked at Quiyus, his eyes ablaze with what seemed like flames. He opened his arms and embraced his uncle in farewell.


    "Uncle Quiyus! For the sake of the Kingdom¡¯s continuation, for the glory of the Royal Family, I entrust this place to you! Fifteen days, just hold for fifteen days! Then, whether you fall back to the hinterlands or surrender to the Mexica, the choice is yours to make!"


    The Southern Route Commander slowly nodded, like a frozen sculpture in the wind. Once again, he vowed with a solemn voice.


    "Beneath the banner of the eagle, my blood will flow..."


    Upon hearing the familiar oath, the young King finally smiled. He lowered his head, for the first time solemnly saluting his uncle, then silently entered the fortress. The intricacies of the retreat demanded his personal decisions, secret preparations, and arrangements. The King¡¯s guard arrayed into two columns, wielding Bronze Axes and Greatbows, followed with equally somber faces.


    On the deserted expanse of the fortress, only Quiyus remained alone. He watched the fluttering Royal Banner in silence, memories of ancestral glory flickering in his mind, blooming into a smile on his lips. Until the night grew deeper, a squad of guards hurried over, replacing the inherited Royal Banner with a new one. It was then that the Southern Route Commander found himself devoid of strength. He staggered forward a few steps and fell beneath the flag. The towering fortress fell silent once more, save for the drifting funeral songs of the Priests, mourning the fate that was soon to come.


    His fate was sealed, and with it, tens of thousands of soldiers in his command were destined to plunge into boundless darkness. The old Royal Banner fell without a sound, the new banner rose gently, just as the Kingdom¡¯s downfall, an omen sung in the nocturnal lament.

 Chapter 415 - 207 Auspicious Day

    The vast night was always busy, and the scattered daytime was hurried too. Amidst the interchange of night and day, the warriors of the Tarasco Kingdom moved quietly, startling the birds in the mountains and leaving nothing but the faint rustling of the wind. The auspicious day of the Sun God was approaching, and the reconnaissance of the Mexica Alliance noticeably withdrew. Legions prepared for a grand ceremony, bringing a brief peace to the frontline.


    Late into the night the next day, the wooden doors of the High Mountain Fortress swung silently open. Under the protection of the Copper-axe Guards, the royal banner led the way. The Eagle Warrior, shaking its black wings, disappeared into the forests of the West. Ten thousand elite soldiers gradually gathered from several fortresses behind, forming a retreating flood. The warriors, holding sporadic torches, raced silently towards the Capital City of the West.


    The morning star illuminated the eastern sky, heralding the arrival of dawn. In the flowing morning light, Su¡¯angua climbed the small hill beside the creek, looking back at the High Mountain Fortress.


    The mountain path was winding and long; the Eagle Banner at the top of the fortress turned into a tiny dot, with only the bright gold sparkling under the morning light. Beside the dot, a figure slender as a pine needle stood quietly. Across the great distance, the two most venerated Divine Descendants of Tarasco gazed at each other. Before the sunrise, they exchanged their final looks and then silently bid farewell, heading towards an unknown yet unchangeable path.


    The morning light gradually brightened, and the sun slowly rose. In the same mountain range, King Aweit, clad in red royal attire, his head adorned with a slender Feather Crown and draped in Jade belts, gleamed like the embodiment of a deity. He stood solemnly atop the fortress, looking towards the bright East. The clouds on either side unfurled and dispersed, like waves rolling out, revealing the gates of the Divine Kingdom. A huge red sun was slowly rising from the horizon. It shone upon the lush green Apachigan forests and also illuminated thousands of Mexica warriors below the great fortress.


    Aweit raised his head, lifted the Yellow Gemstone Divine Staff, and paid homage to the rising Sun God. As the King made his gesture, the War Priests began to sing ancient songs, ignited fervent flames, and prayed for the arrival of the Chief Divine.


    This was a grand funeral on the auspicious day of the Sun God. A huge Sacred Fire burned in the center surrounded by the warriors. All the damaged Cotton Armor, worn War Clubs, and broken shields were piled into clearly layered small hills around the fire, harboring the souls of departed warriors.


    Under the Priest¡¯s ritual, the Sun God cast down His radiant gaze. His eyes watched over the earth; the valley¡¯s stream scattered like a Jade belt, and the undulating mountains concealed the extension toward the distance. The malefic moon persisted in the western horizon, chased away by the Chief Divine¡¯s mighty power, fleeing toward the lair of the Royal City of Tarasco. As cloud lights ascended and the sky blazed with color, the glorious Chief Divine finally descended upon the human world, transforming into a dazzling golden yellow, showering the entire world!


    "...The Divine has arrived! He guides the souls of the deceased, towards the red Kingdom! He promises to the world: warriors who die for the divine will reopen their eyes. They will welcome the red dawn under the red sky!"


    King Aweit spread his arms and called out with all his might. His loud voice echoed throughout the fortress, like a divine promise. Then, the Priests shouted in unison, praising the highest Chief Divine.


    "Praise the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! He saves the devoutly praying believers and guides the sacrificed souls for the divine!"


    Fierce drums beat, melodious flute music played. Amidst the Priests¡¯ chant, hundreds of nobles and thousands of warriors faced the rising sun in the East, devoutly praising the deity. The initial rise of the sun hit their eyes, the brilliance momentarily dazzling everyone. The warriors then prostrated, clutching the Chief Divine¡¯s Amulet. Following the Priests¡¯ guidance, they closed their eyes, envisioned the splendor of the Divine Kingdom, and together shouted the Divine¡¯s name thrice.


    "Trust in Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! Praise the Sun God Huitzilopochtli! Devote to the War God Huitzilopochtli!"


    By the time everyone opened their eyes again, the sun was too bright to look at directly. The Priests once more leapt into their celebratory dance and sang praises. The warriors murmured quietly, making wishes to the Chief Divine, and sent messages to the deceased. The nobles took turns coming forward, throwing the garments of the fallen into the fire, sending them to the red Kingdom.


    Moments later, King Aweit once again waved the Divine Staff, reverently sending off the Chief Divine. Outside the fortress, the Eagle Warriors also sheathed their vibrant Obsidian Daggers and cleared the traces of the sacrifices. When the grand ceremony concluded, Aweit descended from the highest point of the fortress amid the cheers of thousands, his gaze briefly lingering outside the fortress before calmly departing. There, a new undulating mound of earth had appeared. All the Tarasco wounded who could no longer work had been sacrificed and buried here.


    The close confidants and guards immediately stepped forward, following the supreme King back to the main hall of the fortress. Aweit washed the sweat from his face, removed his heavy royal attire, and changed into a light cotton robe. Then, with a smile and in a relaxed tone, he asked.


    "Gillim, did all the high and hereditary nobles of the Legion come today?"


    "Your Majesty, today is the auspicious day of the Sun God. Except for the chiefs stationed at various fortresses, all the honored and hereditary nobles have arrived. The Jaguar and the Eagle Warrior Battalion have also gathered here at this fortress, taking charge of the surrounding vigilance."


    Gillim solemnly paid his respects, replying without a hint of humor. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Excellent! Let them all stay. Prepare wine and meat; tonight we shall hold a feast and everyone will drink merrily!"

 Chapter 416 - 207 Auspicious Day_2

    Aweit laughed aloud. After half a year of campaigning, battered by wind and sun, his complexion was slightly reddened, his features defined and rugged, and his expression even more resolute. In his casual banter, he seemed more unrestrained and bold than before, with an added undercurrent of merciless severity.


    "Your Majesty, should some stimulating herbs be added to the drinks?"


    "Hmm, follow the priests¡¯ tradition, the first through the third rounds of drinks should be mixed with different herbs. Begin with the enlightening Ebony Jade, continue with the hallucinogenic Bare-Capped Mushroom, and conclude with the tranquilizing Rat Tail Sage. Remember, use only a third of what the priests would, don¡¯t add more."


    Aweit paused thoughtfully, then answered with a smile. For his beloved daughter Alisa, he had picked up herbology again, a subject he had learned in his youth, and his expertise even exceeded many high priests.


    Gillim nodded respectfully. After a moment, he asked softly,


    "Your Majesty, should some women be arranged to serve the generals?"


    Aweit lowered his gaze and shook his head.


    "The samurai¡¯s tents should not be tainted with worldly distractions. At most, bring some musicians and dancers. As for the girls who sing and entertain, send them directly to the nobility¡¯s private tents."


    Gillim bowed to take the order. Soon after, he raised his head again and asked calmly,


    "Your Majesty, a few months ago, the samurais intercepted some of the Tarasco envoys, capturing two princesses of the Tarasco royal family. After two months of indoctrination by the priestesses accompanying the army, can we ensure they pose no threat... Should we let them wait upon you?"


    Upon hearing this, Aweit was momentarily stunned. He recalled briefly, then cast a commanding gaze.


    "The Tarasco royal princesses? Are they from the envoy group to Tlaxcala?"


    "Yes, Your Majesty, the ones the Jaguar Warrior Brigade ambushed. After your western campaign, marrying a Tarasco royal princess would help you better control the people of the Lake Capital City. And if the royal families of both nations could produce a lineage, that would be an even better selection for a prince. Your descendants could rule the vast region of Michkenque for the great alliance."


    Gillim bowed again, his expression open and unswayed by personal feelings.


    Aweit¡¯s demeanor grew serious. He pondered for a long time before he affirmed,


    "The Tarasco princesses... there¡¯s no need to rush. We¡¯ll discuss that after conquering Qinchongcan. As for the Patzcuaro Lake region, the prince designated is Xiulote; that won¡¯t change!"


    "Your Majesty, His Highness Xiulote is the heir to the royal family, and in the end, he must return to the Capital City. The Patzcuaro Lake region in front lies six to seven hundred miles from the Capital City, and messengers take a month to travel between them. And the further Chapala Lake Region is over a thousand miles away, a journey even an eagle would need ten days to complete. These frontier lands can only be guarded by a royal prince. In these unpredictable times, it¡¯s beneficial to the royal family and the alliance to prepare early."


    Aweit smiled, noncommittal. He turned to the Intelligence Officer, inquiring about the intel he cared for,


    "The barbaric people of Tlaxcala have invaded the alliance¡¯s border. What are the current troop strengths, and how is the battle going?"


    "The Four States of Tlaxcala have currently mobilized thirty thousand samurais and thirty thousand militia, invading the Xochipeople state in the southeast. The local city-state nobility has abandoned the fields and villages, holding onto the fortresses and cities, and has requested reinforcements from the Lake Capital City!"


    The king frowned. The supply line for the southern army passed through the southwestern Lasico state, just two hundred miles from Xochipeople state. If the Tlaxcala army broke through there, the enemy¡¯s vanguard could reach the Mexican Valley and threaten the rear of the grand army.


    "How did the religious elders in the Holy City of Cholula react?"


    "The religious elders have tacitly approved the mobilization of the Four States¡¯ leaders. The Tarascans have pledged to convert, which is an offer the elders cannot refuse."


    "What about the religious leader Petl? Acap has a good relationship with him, can he be persuaded again?"


    "Your Majesty, that cunning old fox cannot be bought with sweet honey. His Highness Xiulote¡¯s capture of Huayamo and the advance on the gates of Qinchongcan City have deeply shaken the elders. While they are outwardly friendly to the alliance, they have started to be wary in secret. They fear the alliance¡¯s growth!"


    "Hmm, well. The Telask people are our hereditary enemies; a battle with them is inevitable. Send more Holy Water to Acap, let the religious elders have more visions of the divine!"


    Gillim nodded in understanding, showing a faint smile. He continued, S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The southeastern city-states have maintained their defenses for a long time and can hold out for at least three months. The issue now is that the southeastern city-states have a small population and can¡¯t sustain enough samurais. Without enough warriors in the defense lines, they lack the ability to conduct harassment attacks!"


    After some thought, Aweit asked,


    "Is there an enemy thrust in the northeastern city-states?"


    "The Vastec people in the northeast have had secret meetings with Tarasco envoys, and there are signs of unrest. The great nobles of the two northeastern states need to watch out for Tlaxcalan incursions. Actually, they are unwilling to head south to support the southeastern state nobles."


    "These city-state nobles... Xiulote is right, centralization of power is the future for the alliance! Then, withdraw five thousand Royal Warriors from the southern route to form a support battle group. Command them to advance east along the Tarsas River, intimidating the Mistec people on the southern shore. These ¡¯Cloud People¡¯ have interrupted their New Year tribute, so it¡¯s high time to send a messenger to reprimand them! Besides, let the northern General Osellor be vigilant, and if necessary, he may take the offensive to suppress the Vastec factions first!"


    Gillim pulled out a charcoal pencil and began recording everything on rough paper. Extremely disciplined and intelligent, he had learned to write proficiently within a year. Afterward, the Intelligence Officer raised his head, revealing his deep eyes.

 Chapter 417 - 207 Auspicious Day_3

    ""Your Majesty, in the past nine months, the Royal Warriors have lost nine thousand men, and the southern City-States have lost four thousand Samurai. Even with the addition of two thousand from the Nobility Battle Groups, our total number of Samurai stands only at thirty-two thousand. A little over a month ago, Marshal Iskali led five thousand of the Battle Group westward, and now we¡¯ve drawn another five thousand Samurai to help in the east, which leaves our southern forces somewhat stretched thin... With Texcoco Lake District now in the slack farming season, should we continue to mobilize the Militia?" S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Upon hearing this, Aweit turned around and walked to the window of the great hall. He slightly lifted his head to look towards the northwestern forest and the daunting fortress atop the high mountains. The base of the fortress was dyed dark red with blood, and the walls of green stone were covered with smoke and scorch skid marks. And at the very top of the fortress, the Royal Banner of Tarasco stood erect on the highest point of Apachigan, waving gallantly in the wind.


    The King watched for a long while, with a sigh of helplessness escaping his lips.


    "The terrain is too steep for catapults to be of any use, and the people of Tarasco have replicated a large number of Longbows. Such High Mountain Fortresses are no longer something that human Force can overcome. The Tarascans can¡¯t mount a counterattack and we can¡¯t break through. Given that, amassing more troops on the southern front would be just a wasteful use of supplies! Mobilize ten thousand Militia from the Lake Region, ready to assist the southeastern City-States at any moment. As for Apachigan here, we just need to maintain the pressure on the front line, no additional reinforcements are necessary."


    Gillim nodded his head and continued to write feverishly. Aweit shifted his gaze. His eyes were bright and he looked to the western sky.


    "Fortunately, Xiulote has already captured the Huayamo Fortress, breaking the stalemate in the north! The detachment from Tepopolo has also penetrated deeply along the downstream of Tarsas River, landing in the heartland south of Tarasco and pressing northward! As long as one of these two Battle Groups can continue their advance and cut off the enemy¡¯s supply routes, victory in this western campaign will be ours!"


    Soon, Gillim finished recording. He bowed deeply in solemnity to the King.


    "Your Majesty, according to intelligence gathered from across the lands, Tarasco¡¯s national power is already spent. They can¡¯t hold on any longer. The Alliance will surely win, and You will become the greatest leader in epic sagas, forging a name in jade and stone that will never perish!"


    Aweit laughed heartily. He patted Gillim on the shoulder.


    "Though this western campaign has been tough, it¡¯s just the beginning of a long journey! As the leader of the Mexica, one must emulate the great Montezuma I and spend a lifetime amidst the campaigns of war. Gillim, you may go now. Relay the orders to the troops, prepare for the banquet!"


    Gillim bowed once more and retreated from the great hall, moving through the shadows of the buildings without making a sound. Only when he stepped out of the main fortress did he call over a Retainer and relayed the military orders with precision, not missing a single detail, until at last, the Intelligence Officer paused. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke in a solemn voice,


    "Summon the Priestess accompanying the army. Have her ready to bring the Tarasco princesses tonight."


    The Retainers went off to obey the command. Gillim stood silently in the shadow of the houses, his gaze fixed on the green stone walls. The walls, with their crude Tarasco patterns, told of centuries of time, but they also made one think of a not so distant future. After a long while, he suddenly turned, his eyes bright and captivating, yet devoid of emotion.


    In the great hall, Aweit was still standing by the window, admiring the undulating Mountains and observing the fortress on the high Mountains. Then his gaze sharpened as he stared fixedly. Near the distant Eagle Banner was a tiny figure. The figure¡¯s garments glittered, though its face couldn¡¯t be discerned.


    Aweit closed his eyes, scenes from the past appearing before him, memories so deep-rooted they surged in his heart. He gripped the Divine Staff in his hand tightly and murmured to himself,


    "Xiulote, my pupil, you will not disappoint me. Su¡¯angua, my old friend, I look forward to the day we reunite!"

 Chapter 418 - 208 Search

    The sun fell quietly, and the brook flowed soundlessly. The rolling hills gently subsided, and the barren wilderness gradually opened up. The forests of Apachigan turned into a black silhouette against the sky, and the lake region of Patzcuaro lay not far to the north.


    King Su¡¯angua walked in silence, dressed in an ordinary Samurai¡¯s attire, followed by a trusted aide carrying the Royal Banner. The hereditary Eagle Banner had been rolled up and put away, with only the divine flags of the three gods held aloft by the flag bearers. From a distance, it was hard to discern the legion¡¯s allegiance.


    However, once one got closer, the identity of the Royal Legion could not be concealed. Longbows, bronze axes, leather armor, copper helmets¡ªalong with the silent marching and the impeccably maintained military bearing¡ªall symbolized the elite Samurai. The commanders of the army¡¯s encampments all wore the bifurcated feather crowns of Nobility and brightly striped war clothes adorned with yellow Divine Eagles and symbols of the three gods.


    The ten thousand elite troops of the Tarasco Royal Family were divided into two armies: five thousand in front and five thousand behind, with Scouts sent out for tens of miles. Su¡¯angua personally led the Copper-axe Guards at the very front. Over the past few days, under the golden sunlight, he had traversed familiar mountain roads and unfamiliar desolate villages, thus remaining silent and taciturn.


    Suddenly, the front ranks of the marching army stirred slightly. The periphery Scouts shook flags of warning, and hundreds of elite Samurai quickly advanced, starting to run at high speed. Su¡¯angua halted the troops and climbed to the nearest hill. He saw several green dots retreating quickly a few miles ahead, while the Kingdom¡¯s Scouts chased and encircled them from both sides. The pursuit continued until they vanished from sight.


    The young King frowned with irritation as he waited, and it wasn¡¯t long before a trusted aide approached with a swift stride. He carried several bloody heads and a few longbows and bowed his head in respect as he reported.


    "Respected King, our Scouts encountered a small Mexica Samurai squad and have killed them all."


    Su¡¯angua glanced at the hairstyles on the heads and then at the captured longbows, feeling irritated once more. These were not Samurai, but tribesmen from the mountains. Even these Militia were equipped with longbows... The young King said nothing further but inquired.


    "Well done. Have the Scouts detected any traces of the enemy¡¯s main force?"


    "There¡¯s no trace of the enemy force within twenty miles, and no sight of marching dust at the horizon. This Scout team carried ample provisions, and they had little strength to run during the chase, indicating they might have ventured quite far out."


    The King nodded, gesturing for his trusted aide to step back. He looked towards the distant horizon; the Capital City lay three hundred miles to the northwest, normally taking about seven or eight days to reach by marching, or five days if marched hurriedly.


    "Encountering enemy Scouts here... the Capital City has already lost control over the surrounding area! The enemy¡¯s situation is unclear, and hurrying could be too risky... No, the enemy forces must be numerous, now is not the time to be entangled!"


    After a moment¡¯s thought, Su¡¯angua made a rapid decision.


    "Man! Relay the order, let the Vanguard Scouts disperse, keep the army quiet, and turn southwest. Also send out two teams of a hundred to wander in the northeast and attack the Mexica Scouts as diversions!"


    Following the King¡¯s military command, tens of thousands of elite troops quickly changed formation, turning toward the southwest hills and valleys. This last elite force of Tarasco continued toward the heart of the Kingdom, awaiting the inevitable battle.


    The wilderness of the forest returned to peace, with the drooping vegetation concealing traces of the skirmish. It wasn¡¯t until a day later that several Mexica reconnaissance squads hurried forth. They spread out, carefully searching for bloodstains and bodies in the woods before quickly regrouping. The team leaders had grave expressions as they quietly conferred for a moment and then split into three groups. One tracked the human shadows northeast, one followed footprints southwest, and another headed back at a forced march, day and night.


    Days passed with the rising and setting sun. The high sun lit up the land, and the shallow brook flowed through the valley. Toltec, sitting on a large stone by the streamside with his legs crossed, frowned thoughtfully like a pondering large dog. Beside him lay his longbow and war club, and in front of him were rows of bamboo baskets full of slender, tender pepper-grasses.


    This was a temporary riverside encampment about one hundred and fifty miles from Su¡¯angua to the west and just over a hundred miles from Patzcuaro City to the southwest. Thousands of longbow Militia were scattered around on patrol in units of a hundred. Additionally, hundreds of tribal Hunters were busy on the plains, gathering fresh herbs. Soon, a Chieftain bearing a bamboo basket approached, respectfully handing over the gathered harvest to the brave and ¡¯learned¡¯ Chieftain Black Wolf. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Toltec reached out, took a small handful of pepper-grass, and stuffed it into his mouth to chew. The succulent stems released a unique spicy fragrance, with the refreshing heat spreading in his mouth, tinged with a hint of bitterness. Toltec chewed for a while before nodding expressionlessly and gesturing for the Chieftain to leave. He then grabbed another handful of "snacks" and slowly chewed them to refresh himself.


    The army had temporarily set up an Encampment, and collecting pepper-grass was certainly not for eating. This pepper-grass was actually tansy, which would be an excellent hot pot vegetable in later times, but at that time, it was the most readily available hemostatic medicine. Its stems could stop bleeding and reduce inflammation, both externally on the wounds and internally to alleviate internal inflammation.


    Toltec chewed on his snacks while patiently waiting. Shortly before, during a raid, he had sensed a shift in the situation. He made a swift decision, leading the Militia forward over a hundred miles and dispatching dozens of reconnaissance squads to search toward Apachigan in the southeast.


    "The Envoy of congratulations must have met with His Highness and conveyed my suggestion. What is His Highness¡¯s reply? Facing the threat of a shortage of provisions, what is the Tarasco main force to the southeast doing? If I can capture the enemy King, I, Toltec, could become the foremost man in the western campaign! What a sight that would be!"

 Chapter 419 - 208 Search_2

    Toltec was indulging in thoughts about the future when a reconnaissance team emerged from the far end of the wilderness. Their war clothes were stained with blood, their faces smeared with dirt, and they looked utterly worn out from running for two days straight, bringing back an important message!


    "What! A reconnaissance team has gone missing. Afterward, you discovered traces of a large enemy movement, but are unsure of the specific direction? You also suffered an attack by an enemy squad!"


    The Scout Captain nodded repeatedly. Toltec then questioned him extensively before finally letting him rest.


    The Mexica¡¯s Black Wolf pondered deeply. Although the scouts had not seen the enemy¡¯s flags and were unclear about the number of the enemy, his intuition told him that anyone who could deal with the scouts so neatly, march swiftly, and leave behind so few traces must be a formidable opponent. At this moment, only one army in Tarasco matched this description: the King¡¯s Legion!


    "The key now is to expand the search and to communicate this message to His Highness in a timely manner!"


    Considering this, Toltec finally made up his mind. He stood up and quickly gathered his trusted aides and the Chieftains.


    "Form units of fifty men each and divide into dozens of teams. Expand the search toward the East, Northeast, South, and Southwest! As soon as you confirm the enemy¡¯s large squad, quickly retreat to the old camp several dozen miles away from Patzcuaro City and report back, do not engage in battle! The first person to report back will be promoted to Senior Warrior. He will be rewarded with a hundred baskets of food, a hundred bolts of cotton cloth, and a hundred slaves! I will personally report his name to His Highness!"


    Hearing about the high rewards, the Chieftains¡¯ eyes flickered. They looked at each other like wolves sniffing out their prey, their low, excited howls filling the air.


    Then, without further delay, Toltec vigorously waved his hand.


    "The rest of the hundred trusted aides, follow me, we return to the old camp immediately!"


    The "Black Wolf" strode forth, eventually grabbing a handful of spicy herbs and chewing vigorously. The spicy flavor invigorated his spirit and the thirst for battle made his blood boil. Immediately, he began to run at a steady pace, followed closely by his trusted aides. The hunters by the river valley dispersed, leaving behind a row of baskets filled with fresh, spicy herbs.


    Toltec ran continuously for half a day. Only when dusk fell did he stop for dinner, finding a highland where he rested with his trusted aides. As soon as it was barely light, he shouted for them to march, leading the run. By the next day¡¯s noon, the old camp was finally in sight. A hundred miles of marching in one day, nearly reaching the limits of this era.


    Upon reaching the old camp deep in the woods, Toltec slowed briefly. Unbeknownst to him, the camp was now filled with many more guards. The patrolling squads were tightly organized and marked by the elite¡¯s deadly seriousness. The "Black Wolf" watched for a moment, then strode forward, his face lit with joy. He bowed down to the Head Warrior of His Highness,


    "Holy Eagle Head Warrior, your wounds have finally healed? I¡¯ve been worried about you! Well, seeing your rosy complexion and spirited demeanor, the Naval Commander must have taken good care of you."


    Bertade was slightly embarrassed by these words, but then a smile spread across his weathered face.


    "Anna is cold on the outside but warm on the inside; a good woman. I am completely recovered now. After lying down for several months, I can finally return to the battlefield, just in time for the tail end of this western conquest! If I don¡¯t put in more effort, all the merits would have been earned by you youngsters. Toltec, I heard you captured Ospai, that¡¯s like avenging me with one arrow!"


    Bertade outstretched his hand and gave Toltec¡¯s shoulder a hearty slap.


    Toltec was born from His Highness¡¯s followers, a young leader personally trained and promoted by him. Close in age, he was responsible for recruiting tribal hunters before the campaign, a task that came from his recommendation. Their relationship was very close, both regarded as part of His Highness¡¯s followers.


    Hearing this, Toltec¡¯s spirits soared, and he spoke loudly with a smile.


    "Holy Eagle Head Warrior, Ospai is but a spineless fish, not even capable of honor killing properly. Now, I, Toltec, have found a truly big fish, likely the King of Tarasco! Is His Highness in the tent now?"


    "Big fish... King..." Bertade pondered briefly, then nodded seriously.


    "His Highness is in the tent, dealing with military affairs. Military matters are urgent, let¡¯s go meet His Highness together!"


    Since it was a serious matter, they wasted no more words. In just a short time, both men walked to His Highness¡¯s tent. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote, dressed in a black robe, held a simple map and was discussing closely with the bending Ezpan. Hearing the noise at the tent entrance, the Young Commander looked up.


    Bertade entered first, bowing his head respectfully.


    "Your Highness, Toltec has urgent military intelligence to report."


    Xiulote nodded with a smile.


    "Let my Black Wolf come in!"


    "Your Highness, Black Wolf Torc sends his greetings and congratulates you on your victory in the great battle of the north! I also bring you new good news!"


    Torc stepped into the tent, his eyes sparkling as he knelt on one knee and greeted loudly.


    Xiulote looked at his beloved general with a smile.


    "Torc, what good news do you bring?"


    "Your Highness, I have discovered the traces of the King of Tarasco!"


    "What!" Xiulote suddenly stood up. His expression turned solemn as he stared at the young general.


    "When and where? What are the specifics? Tell me everything in detail!"


    Facing His Highness¡¯s gaze, Torc shrank his neck and carefully explained all the intelligence he knew.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment before speaking slowly.


    "So, the Scout did not actually see the enemy¡¯s army?"


    "Your Highness, in the East of Qinchongcan, the only ones who can march in large numbers without leaving too many traces are the troops of the King of Tarasco!"


    Torc continued to explain.


    "The scouts I dispatched are experienced hunters! Only the enemy¡¯s Royal Army could have made them disappear silently."


    Xiulote nodded silently. He thought for a while and then scrutinized his trusted aide, Ezpan.


    "If the Royal Army of Tarasco is in our East, what places could hide them?"


    Ezpan thought for a moment, took the map from His Highness, and pointed on it one by one.


    "Your Highness, there are many places in the East that can conceal their tracks, starting with the forest boundaries of Apachigan. Moving north from there, the southern side of Xitaqualo also has many hilly areas, along with sporadic fortresses. However, these places lack sufficient food supplies, and it would also be difficult to avoid our scouts when marching further into the interior."


    Xiulote gave a slight nod. He then continued to inquire.


    "If the enemy is in the South, where could they go?"


    "Your Highness, the hinterland to the south of Tarasco is still intact. The nearest is the southernmost part of the Patzcuaro Lake region, the thriving city of Ihuatzio, rich in copper mines. By raiding the major merchants there, they could obtain plenty of supplies. Next are the river valleys on the north coast of the Tarsas River, which house many manors of the Great Nobility. There are also numerous military pathways with water sources between Lake Patzcuaro and the Tarsas River. If the Royal Army passes through here, they could avoid our scouts, and head south or even southwest, entering the Lake Patzcuaro region!"


    The Young Commander hummed in agreement, then frowned, staring at a corner of the map, deep in thought.


    "Your Highness, you have already led the main force of the army southward, and at this time, no one can resist!"


    Torc showed excitement. He pointed at the center of the lake region, Qinchongcan City.


    "Let us encircle Qinchongcan directly, wait for the enemy¡¯s Royal Army to arrive, and then defeat them in one fell swoop! I, Torc, volunteer to be your vanguard! By capturing the enemy¡¯s king, the people of Tarasco will be dispersed into individually fighting factions, no longer subordinate to each other. The victory of the western campaign will inevitably follow. You will become the greatest Commander-in-Chief in the history of the Alliance!"


    Xiulote smiled and nodded, then shook his head.


    "Torc, I am not worried about Su¡¯angua escaping into the Capital City. Though Qinchongcan is strong, it is a city in a cage. If he enters the Capital City, the King of Tarasco will be a bird in a cage, unable to escape."


    Then, he stretched out his hand and pressed it hard on the corner of the map.


    "What I am worried about is Su¡¯angua retreating here!"

 Chapter 420 - 209: Map, Story, and Decision

    The tent¡¯s canvas door was tightly closed, and a skylight opened on the top of the large tent. At noon, golden sunlight fell from the zenith, illuminating the yellowed scroll of the map, much like an ancient scroll passed down over centuries.


    In fact, this map had only recently been drawn on bark paper newly produced in the Lake Capital City. The bark paper was durable, but due to its high lignin content, it always turned yellow upon oxidation. Even after bleaching, under the sunlight, the whiteness of the paper could not be maintained for long.


    Upon hearing His Highness¡¯s words, three confidants immediately gathered around and looked at the slightly yellow map, falling into deep thought.


    The map, spread out, was quite large. It centered around two rivers, sketching out the territory of the Lake Region of Mexica. The map was densely covered with symbols and meticulously marked in different colors. Brown represented the layered mountains, symbolizing the terrain; blue portrayed the lengthy rivers, representing waterways; green depicted the dense forests, indicating vegetation. And black marked the towns of Tarasco, representing settlements.


    Around the settlements, symbols in four different colors represented different political and military forces. To the East and due north was blue, symbolizing the friendly Mexica Alliance and the Otapan City-State. To the southeast was green, symbolizing the neutral Mistec and Zapotecs. To the northwest and far west was yellow, symbolizing the unknown Guamal Canine Descendants and northern Tekos Tribe. And at the center of the map, to the extreme east and southwest, was a glaring red, symbolizing the hostile Tarasco Kingdom, Tlaxcala Alliance, and southern Tekos Tribe.


    At that moment, His Highness¡¯s palm was firmly pressed on the southwest corner of the map¡ªthe red area of the southern Tarsus Tribe, the mountainous land of Colima! By the conspicuous blood-red mark was a prominently drawn black triangle, but its meaning was unknown.


    Xiulote smiled and looked around the tent. He memorized the expressions of the generals and then patiently waited.


    This was a military map of Mexica he had created over several months, modeled after military maps he remembered. Since gaining surrendered troops from various parts of Tarasco, he had handpicked individuals to collect large amounts of scout intelligence and establish a map-compiling team. In addition to geographical information and military intelligence, estimates of local populations, agricultural production, and mineral development were all recorded on the map.


    In Xiulote¡¯s plan, this map would expand from Mexica to encompass the entire world, evolving from a single map into a comprehensive atlas. Later, it would extend to the entirety of America and even the entire world, becoming a military and national tool for Mexica monarchs through the ages to govern the nation, expand territory, form alliances, and conquer disloyal subjects!


    Toltec examined the map intently for a long while, only to feel that the dense annotations were like wriggling tadpoles, making his head spin. Thus, he was the first to inquire.


    "Your Highness, is this the southwestern mountainous region, the land of Colima?"


    Xiulote nodded slightly.


    "Exactly! My only concern is Su¡¯angua fleeing to the southwestern mountains; other directions pose no great difficulty."


    "Your Highness, why is that? I¡¯ve heard from merchants that the southwestern mountainous region is sparsely populated and remote, harboring layers upon layers of mountains, with steaming mouths of demons everywhere. Hundreds of Tekos Tribe settlements cultivate and hunt in the mountains, living in poverty. For a bit of arable land and a few water sources, they fight each other relentlessly. Further west lies nothing but the vast Great Lake."


    Hearing this, Toltec scratched his head and continued with his puzzled inquiry.


    "In such a barren and desolate area, if Su¡¯angua leads his troops there, without cotton or food, without weapons or soldiers, and has to fight with the local tribes, he¡¯d likely starve or impoverish to death within a few months! Wouldn¡¯t it pose a greater threat to the Alliance if he fled to the powerful Tlaxcala in the east, or the prosperous Mistec in the south?" S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote looked admiringly at his beloved general and said with a smile.


    "Toltec, I haven¡¯t seen you in two months, and it seems I need to take another look at you with fresh eyes. Very well, you speak with reason, showing much diligence recently!... Su¡¯angua leads an unknown number of the Royal Legion, possibly thousands, and there are very few places he could go. The most likely scenario is of course heading back to save the Capital City, avoiding our entry or actively engaging us in battle!"


    "The other directions, the east towards Tlaxcala is too distant, not bordering Tarasco. To the south, Mistec is nominally a subject of the Alliance. The Mistec leader might secretly communicate with Tarasco, but will surely not openly accept the enemy¡¯s King, let alone allow their legions to cross the border. More importantly, these areas are under the might of the Alliance¡¯s armies, ready to face military action at any moment!"


    "Only the southwestern mountainous region of Colima! That area is the southwestern frontier of the Tarasco Kingdom, more than thirteen hundred miles from the Lake Capital City and several hundred miles from Qinchongcan City. The complex mountains are difficult to conquer, and guerrilla enemies are hard to locate, doubling the advantage for those who defend. The Alliance cannot reach such distances, nor maintain such extended supply lines. If Su¡¯angua decides to abandon the Capital City and head directly there, he turns into a wolf entering the mountains, becoming a significant threat to the Alliance!"


    Bertade pondered for a moment and then slowly began to speak.


    "The topography of the Colima mountains is rugged, easily defended and difficult to attack. Going north through the Lerma River connects to the Chapala Lake Region. Eastward along the tributaries of the Tarsas River communicates with the southern regions of the kingdom. The Tarasco Royal Family has had branches in all states for two hundred years, with immense influence. If Su¡¯angua seeks refuge there, and reorganizes the Tarasco Kingdom, rebellions around the lake area will erupt one after another, and cannot be quelled in just a few years!"

 Chapter 421 - 209: Map, Story, and Decision_2

    The surrendered general Ezpan had remained silent until now, when he finally spoke up in a cold voice.


    "Your Highness, the common people worship the three gods and follow the guidance of the priests. The influence of the Royal Family primarily lies among the nobility across the land. If we could subsume the three gods as subordinate gods to the Chief Divine, and then incorporate the low-level priests into our fold, we would be able to stabilize the rural situation. Next..."


    At this point, a cold glint flashed in Ezpan¡¯s eyes, revealing a fierce intent to kill, as he slowly made a gesture of slashing a throat.


    "Eliminate all Divine Descendants! Completely annihilate all the nobility, and the lands around the lake will be entirely yours!"


    Hearing Ezpan¡¯s words, Bertade showed a look of surprise, while the Toltec laughed heartily with satisfaction.


    "Excellent, very excellent! The hunting of a wolf pack requires skill. First, exile all the nobility, and relocate them elsewhere. If anyone dares to disobey, then execute them harshly. And once they have left their ancestral lands, their life and death would be but a thought away for Your Highness!"


    Bertade gently shook his head. He looked towards the young king, returning to the topic at hand.


    "The nobility control the samurai, militia, and manors, so we must handle this delicately... Your Highness, if Su¡¯angua abandons his stronghold and moves to the southwest, could he establish a foothold in the Colima Mountains?"


    Xiulote pondered for a while, then nodded affirmatively.


    "The Tarasco Kingdom has long been operating among the various Tekos tribes to the south. During this western campaign, we encountered a large number of Tekos warriors on both the northern and southern routes. Captured tribal leaders also made it clear, the tribes on the periphery of Colima have already been subdued by the kingdom. The Tarasco Royal Family is also intertwined by marriage with leaders from various regions, becoming relatives and forming alliances, which gives them significant latent influence."


    "If Su¡¯angua were to lead his legion southwest, he could fully inherit the kingdom¡¯s management. Most tribes would not resist, and they would hardly be able to oppose him. Although the Colima Mountains are sparsely populated, they could provide ten thousand samurai and twenty thousand militia. As for the food supply for the legion, he could obtain provisions from the affluent Chapala Lake Region to the north, or covertly align with the Great Nobility of the Tarasco to the south. The mountainside fields could also be planted with coarse grains. As for weapons..."


    Xiulote paused, his smile deep with meaning.


    "With the right will, Colima can produce the finest weapons."


    After listening to His Highness¡¯s analysis, the three great generals fell silent for a moment. Then, it was Toltec who spoke first again.


    "Your Highness, would Su¡¯angua truly choose to give up the capital city? The ancestral tombs of the Tarasco, the Royal Palace, the legacy of the Divine Descendants, is all here!"


    "That depends on what kind of man Su¡¯angua is, and how far-sighted he is."


    Xiulote smiled, suddenly in high spirits. He patted the shoulders of the three commoner generals intimately, and then began to recount the secret past of the Alliance.


    "Bertade, Toltec, Ezpan, you are all my right-hand men. There are some hidden histories of the Alliance I can share with you, in the hope you¡¯ll contemplate them. You must certainly know that among the early heroes of the Three-city Alliance, one of them was the predecessor monarch of Texcoco, the great poet King Coyote Nesaval. The poet King¡¯s reputation was outstanding throughout his life, brave and good at fighting, recognized by the Alliance as ¡¯Poet,¡¯ ¡¯Wise Man,¡¯ and ¡¯Devotee.¡¯


    "In fact, within the secret traditions of the Royal Family, the poet King, after Itzcoatl, Montezuma I, and Asayacatl, was the most feared ally, minister, and prince by three generations of Mexica monarchs. He was restrained and patient; he could always wait patiently for the right time. His methods were flexible, yet he could decisively execute cruel decisions at critical moments, with a vision that never regarded short-term losses or gains."


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze seemed somewhat distant. The pitiless purges of the elders had eliminated the succession of Texcoco princes; the Nesaval lineage was thus extinct. In the near future, Coyote would also completely vanish from epics, erased of all traces.


    "In the secret annals of the Royal Family, the early history of the Three-city Alliance is recorded. Over sixty years ago, the Tepanec people firmly ruled over the Mexican Valley. They controlled many city-states and their military might peaked, deploying tens of thousands of samurai to conquer the prosperous City of Texcoco. Coyote barely escaped with his life at the age of fifteen, fleeing to the southeast to Weisoqinke. He stayed in exile for four years while rebuilding his army. Then, at nineteen, the poet King ventured alone to the Lake Capital City, secretly met with predecessor monarch Itzcoatl, and organized the alliance against the Tepanec people. At that time, the other two among the three heroes, the great King Montezuma and the immortal elder, were both nephews of the predecessor monarch and young leaders of the city-states."


    "Coyote endured another five years of stoic wanderings. He visited many city-states to expand the anti-Tepanec Alliance, and several times returned to Texcoco to increase the resistance¡¯s strength. Five years later, predecessor Itzcoatl took up arms first, with the poet King joining according to the alliance pact, to fight against the Tepanec¡¯s capital at Askapozhaleike on the west shore of Lake Texcoco."


    "In the following months, over a dozen surrounding city-states responded to the Alliance; three armies comprising of a hundred thousand warriors were assembled to punish the iniquitous Tepanec. Many vassals of the Tepanec remained neutral. In less than a year, the once supreme ruler, Tepanec Alliance, was extinguished. The Three-city Alliance declared its establishment, inheriting the rule of the Mexican Valley and embarked on the path of ascent promised by the Chief Divine. And Coyote, the poet King in exile, at last returned in glory after ten years. He recovered the City-State of Texcoco, restored the glory of his ancestors, and even became one of the three monarchs who ruled side by side in the early days of the Three-city Alliance."


    Having finished the story, Xiulote broke into a gentle smile. He looked at the astonished crowd and pronounced each word distinctly.


    "Although the Alliance is militarily glorious, it has only been established for just over fifty years. The nation¡¯s foundation is not yet stable, and hidden worries are everywhere. Before this western campaign, the Council of Elders met with Aweit and me, leaving behind the sole decree: to avoid future troubles, the Tarasco Royal Family must be extinguished, all male heirs must be executed!"


    The generals exchanged glances, then nodded in understanding. The Tarasco Royal Family was primarily concentrated in the Capital City, hence Qinchongcan had to conquer it. The Noble families, always intermarried with the Royal Family, demanded cleanup of the Great Nobility¡¯s manors from all states as well. Next was the assault led by the King, Su¡¯angua.


    Xiulote closed his eyes to ponder for a few breaths before abruptly opening them. He stretched out his finger and pressed hard onto the southern heartlands of Tarasco, the furthest southern point of the Lake Patzcuaro area, the prosperous and wealthy copper mining city of Ivachi, also a trade city without walls.


    "I¡¯ve decided to temporarily bypass the Capital City, and the legion will move further south! Call together the samurai from all armies and prepare a month¡¯s provisions. The main force of the army will move south immediately, bypassing the fortified Patzcuaro and strike at wealthy Ivachi! This place is located fifty li south of Qinchongcan and has extremely convenient transportation. The army must take control here and then continue advancing, blocking Su¡¯angua¡¯s retreat to the southwest!"


    Xiulote made his firm decision. His eyes shone brightly as he looked at the generals in the tent, issuing his command loud and clear.


    "Bertade, you go to rally the commanders of all divisions and convey the orders to move south. Toltec, I¡¯m giving you three thousand samurai to serve as the vanguard of the army! Remember, march quickly, stay alert and cautious, and do not stop to plunder! Ezpan, you will coordinate a group of surrendered soldiers familiar with the terrain, and I¡¯m giving you two hundred of the Jaguar Warrior Brigade and five hundred of our most elite scouts to form a reconnaissance camp. Dozens of scouting squads will scatter in all directions for a hundred li, searching for the whereabouts of the Royal Legion!"


    The young commander looked stern, confirming the army¡¯s movements. The generals bowed respectfully and accepted the orders. In the end, Xiulote held out his palm and with strength, he made a chopping gesture forward and uttered thunderously.


    "Once the Southern Army arrives and we strike from both sides, the Tarasco Kingdom will face its end! If Su¡¯angua dares to fight us head-on, we shall settle the fate of the world in one battle!"


    The generals looked at each other for a few breaths before resoundingly affirming the command. The next day, sixteen thousand Mexica legionnaires quickly set off, transforming into a torrential flood, surging towards the southwest. The expanded scouts spread like a celestial net, seeking the Tarasco¡¯s majestic eagles. And the nascent sun took its place high in the sky, awaiting the exalted Sacrifices to soar."


    S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 422 - Two Hundred and Ten: The Only Way

    The April breeze embarked from the ocean, traveling a thousand miles to arrive at the land of the lakes in Michoac¨¢n. Under the warm sunshine, a faint mist rose by the shores of Lake Patzcuaro, the air carrying a moist breath. Pines and cypresses by the water danced lightly in the wind, morning dew gathered on the tips of leaves, cascading down their elongated branches. The serene moments of early spring were silently soaked in the morning sun.


    Xiulote stood quietly by the lakeside, gazing into the deep blue sky. The fresh wind blew by, carrying the scent of unnamed flowers and unraveling the clouds. Sunshine fell upon his face and all around him, leaving behind radiant tranquility.


    Yet, peace and calm were merely temporary illusions; war and bloodshed were the true realities of this world. The breeze from the southwest carried with it the scent of gunpowder, and even the faint smell of blood could be detected.


    With a soft sigh, Xiulote abruptly turned around, his pupils reflecting flickering flames.


    "The long rainy season is coming, and the consumption of food will double. The horn for spring plowing will sound at the end of the month, and the mobilization of manpower is becoming tense. The war must be swift!"


    Some hundred paces away, hundreds of trusted aides in armor stood in silence with bows, solemnly behind their lord, like statues, waiting for the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s orders.


    And in the far south, massive fires rose in Ivachi. Flames leaped, joining the sunrise in the sky, painting the thriving town red. The wind carried distant sounds, letting the shouts of slaughter echo to the heavens. The Temple of Priests, the Manor of Nobility, the houses of great merchants ¨C wherever there was resistance, it was met with the ruthless killing of the Mexica legion, even the fires of destruction, until all was silent.


    After a quarter of an hour, the sounds of battle gradually ceased. Toltec, bathed in sunlight, approached from the burning town. His War Clothes were stained with blood, his eyes flushed with red, his face full of icy intent to kill. It wasn¡¯t until he was near his lord that he knelt down on one knee, respectfully reporting.


    "Your Highness, our army launched a surprise attack at dawn, and now Ivachi has been conquered by the legion! The resistant Temple has been burned down, and all the Priests of the false gods have been sent to the Abyss. Most of the Tarasco Nobility died in battle, the rest have become captives. The town¡¯s merchants put up a brief resistance before they surrendered. They have sent their representatives to negotiate with you, saying that as long as their Wealth is preserved, they will defect to you and further discuss some kind of fee for the troops. How ludicrous!"


    As he finished, Toltec grasped his War Club and let out a cold sneer. In the Samurai¡¯s eyes, victors claimed everything. Those conquered merchants were now Sacrifices for the Alliance¡¯s captives, with no right to negotiate.


    Xiulote¡¯s face remained calm. He lifted his gaze toward the southern sky. The Royal Legion of Su¡¯angua was hidden somewhere within a hundred miles to the south, a great battle could erupt at any moment. So, he shook his head and decided the fate of the captives.


    "Toltec, I don¡¯t have much time to waste here. I need miners to extract copper, Craftsmen to produce copperware, food to supply the legion, military supplies for the battlefield, and the latest military intelligence from the south! As for the entire town¡¯s Wealth, award it all to the legion¡¯s Samurai! You have half a day to resolve everything, and then advance to scout!"


    "By your will, my gratitude for your generosity!"


    Upon hearing this, Toltec¡¯s face brightened, and he prostrated in thanks. He then stood up and returned, walking briskly like a Black Wolf chasing its prey, pouncing on the spoils promised by their leader.


    Soon, cheers erupted among the town¡¯s Samurai, praising their lord¡¯s generosity. They then busied themselves - sorting captives, scavenging supplies, and, by camp, equally dividing looted Feathers, Gold and Silver, gemstones, and slaves. After a while, a ghastly series of screams arose, quickly followed by silence. The accompanying priests chanted hymns to the Sun God, returning with their bloody Obsidian Daggers, all the Nobility captives offered as Sacrifices.


    Xiulote remained expressionless, continuing his contemplation. After a moment, Ezpan approached with a rotund captive before him.


    "Your Highness, I have interrogated the recently arrived merchant. This wealthy businessman comes from Tlapanec, reporting an urgent piece of military intelligence. He saw a large legion movement in the south!"


    Ezpan made his respectful report, then kicked the captive hard, who cried out in panic, tumbling forward onto the grass, pleading loudly for mercy.


    On hearing of the military situation, Xiulote was slightly moved. He gestured for the captive to be quiet. Ezpan kneeled on one knee, pressing the merchant¡¯s head into the grass to silence him.


    "You¡¯ve discovered traces of a large enemy force? When, where, under what banners, and how many men?"


    The prince inquired. Ezpan repeated the question in the southern dialect of the Kingdom. On hearing this, the merchant stopped his cries. His eyes flickered and he put on a practiced smile.


    "Respected Mexica Highness. I am a merchant from the Tlapanec tribe. We Tlapanecs have always been submissive to the mighty Mexica Alliance, paying tributes on time. In the war between the Alliance and the Kingdom, we also steadfastly support the Alliance, believers of the Sun and Rain Divines... I am willing to exchange the latest intelligence for your protection of my Wealth, as well as a modest reward." S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, speaking in a low voice.


    "Military intelligence is urgent and must be accurate."


    Ezpan nodded, his expression turning cold. Then, he suddenly brought up his knee, knocking the merchant down completely. He pressed the man¡¯s left hand to the ground and drew a sharp Dagger. Under the captive¡¯s terrified gaze, he did not hesitate to cut down with the blade.

 Chapter 423 - Two Hundred and Ten: The Only Way_2

    "Ah, ah!..."


    Fear mixed with pain, the slightly plump merchant let out two short howls, before being pushed back into the grass again. Like Ezpan, he had lost the little finger of his left hand forever.


    "Where are the enemies? What banner? How many people? Speak the truth, one lie, one finger!"


    Ezpan released his grip and repeated the question, while once again raising his dagger.


    "Your Highness, spare...my life! I¡¯ll speak, I¡¯ll speak!..." In terror, the merchant¡¯s eyes widened, and he begged loudly through his pain.


    "Nine heavens, no, ten days ago, I passed through the state of Apachigan from the south, and encountered fleeing local merchants... A Mexica legion had landed at the ferry crossing on the north bank of the Tarsas River, and had immediately defeated the towns nearby. They executed a group of the nobility and merchants, levied enough supplies from the towns, and then began marching north. I quickly fled here before they arrived, only to still be caught in this plight..."


    "What, are you certain that it was the Mexica legion that appeared in the south?" S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote looked surprised. He thought he would hear of Tarasco Kingdom¡¯s army movements, but to his surprise, he received information about allied forces.


    "Definitely the Mexica legion! As witnessed with my own eyes by a local merchant familiar to me, they were holding high the banner of the Sun God, along with the flag of the falling moon."


    The falling evil moon... there was only one Mexica Commander-in-Chief who bore this emblem, and that was...


    "The Moon of Apocalypse, Iskali, it¡¯s the Southern Army!"


    Xiulote murmured to himself, his face lighting up with excitement. The emergence of such a fresh force in the nearby south would bring a more favorable turn to the situation. If this information was true, Su¡¯angua wouldn¡¯t be able to take a detour from the south. The only path of retreat to the west would thus be completely cut off!


    "How many people are in the Southern Army? Where was their last known location? What about the local merchant you knew?"


    Xiulote asked solemnly and earnestly.


    The merchant from Tlapanec¡¯s eyes flickered again. He answered haltingly.


    "The army in the south... thousands... just north of Apachigan... with the army¡¯s arrival, it was chaos everywhere, I got separated from the local merchant in the escape..."


    Xiulote looked down again, shaking his head slightly. With a stern shout, Ezpan chopped down with his dagger once more, then spoke indifferently.


    "One lie, one finger. Three lies, and you die!"


    The plump merchant cried out miserably, tears welling up in his eyes from the pain. He wept softly, speaking in fear.


    "Ah, ah! I...I don¡¯t know! A large army appeared in the south, we merchants were too late to escape, how could we have approached to look closely. As for the local merchant... he fled in a hurry, didn¡¯t hire any samurai for escort, just a few servants, and he was loaded with gemstones and precious goods... I encountered him out in the wild, and in this time of confusion when no one would know... I, naturally, killed him and gladly took his wealth, the servants too were sent to the Divine Kingdom... Your Highness, every word I¡¯ve said is true, I haven¡¯t lied!"


    Xiulote watched for a moment, then nodded his head.


    In this era, merchants were not always good Samaritans. Great merchants kept samurai, colluded with tribal chiefs or nobility, and often engaged in smuggling and private trading. In strict towns, merchants could be law-abiding gentlemen. But in desolate wilderness and weak villages, if they had the upper hand, they would reveal their ferocious fangs, abiding by the law of the jungle.


    "Bandage his wounds and lock him up. Send out elite scouts, take this merchant¡¯s servants, and head south to establish contact with Iskali¡¯s army!"


    "Inform Iskali to lead his troops north with haste and rendezvous with my Northern Army. Be wary, as Su¡¯angua¡¯s legion is somewhere not far to the south. Should the enemy¡¯s trace appear, notify each other promptly and then strike together in a pincer move!"


    "At your command! Your Highness, may your radiance shine upon heaven and earth!"


    Ezpan paid his respects and then, dragging the captive merchant, quickly left without looking back.


    Suddenly, more than a dozen Scout teams hurriedly headed south. They carried different military orders, the most important of which was to search for the Tarasco Kingdom¡¯s Royal Army.


    From afar, Xiulote gazed into the distance. The sun rose high, its light shining brightly across the land, leaving no shadow with a place to hide. The Young Commander muttered to himself.


    "Su¡¯angua, with your legion blocking the paths to the southwest, where can you go now?"


    The sun rose and set in an instant, and the day was gone. The brilliant sunlight shone for a hundred miles to the southeast, casting a glow over the lush mountaintops. In a valley amid undulating forests where streams flowed in tranquility and passed through several noble Manors nearby, this land was where Nobility demonstrated their valor during autumn hunts. It was strictly off-limits to commoners, desolate during spring and summer.


    However, now, if one could evade the hidden sentries and enter the seemingly peaceful forested Manor, they would discover thousands of robust Samurai holding Bronze Axes and Greatbows, donned in Copper Helmets and Leather Armor, maintaining strict military discipline. The most elite soldiers of the Tarasco Royal Army were currently encamped in the hidden valley, awaiting the King¡¯s decision.


    King Su¡¯angua, clad in War Clothes with hands clasped behind his back, stood atop the Manor¡¯s high ground. He stared silently at the northwestern sky, finally letting out a deep sigh after a long while.


    "When the great Fire blazes, the wind must keep its distance. Let the wildfire sweep through, burning the grass outside the city, the corn, and even the cocoa, for as long as the sacred wind persists, it will always sow new seeds!"


    The King of Tarasco quietly recited this metaphorical verse. These were the cryptic words of Jinjinni, the Chief Minister, from a secret letter months ago, now deeply memorized by him.


    "O Hummingbird Chief, could it be that you foresaw today¡¯s situation months ago? Within a single year, the two-hundred-year-old Kingdom perilously teeters. Where lies my path forward, and where is the turning point for the Kingdom?"


    The young King¡¯s expression was heavy. Since the retreat from the southern line, the Royal Legion had been secretly moving south along secluded paths, swiftly heading west along the rivers through the forests. Leveraging his identity as King, he used the nobles¡¯ Manors as strongholds and obtained supplies from the Great Nobility of the south. For safety, he kept their offspring close, feigning deep trust to win them over, while actually holding them as hostages to prevent the marching news from leaking.


    As they traveled, military reports from various locations kept coming in, and the King¡¯s plans were continually changing. When leaving the southern line, he planned to lead his troops back to the Capital City, fortify and hold out, awaiting reinforcements from Tlaxcala. Soon after, he encountered a vast number of Mexica Scouts and learned that the area around the Capital City was already under the control of the Mexica Northern Army.


    With the safest Northern route ending in defeat after defeat, Su¡¯angua, despite cursing Ospe and Pengguari, dared not underestimate the young Mexica prince any longer. The Royal Legion held no advantage, and if they were to encounter the enemy in the open field, the outcome would be unpredictable. In response, he turned southwest, planning to take a detour to the south, towards the heartland, Ihuatzio City. On one hand, he would obtain supplies there, and on the other, he would coordinate with the Capital City to the north.


    The young King steeled his heart and made preparations on two fronts. If the Capital City was surrounded and beyond relief, or if morale was too scattered to hold, he would command the Royal Family and Chief families to retreat to the southwest, into the Colima Mountain Region. The Tarasco Kingdom had campaigned through the mountainous tribes for many years and was well aware of the terrain¡¯s advantage. Defending from strategic points and waging guerrilla warfare were appropriate strategies when facing a stronger foe, biding time for an opportune moment.


    However, the southern Scouts quickly brought back intelligence; a Mexica legion of around five thousand had landed in Apachigan, only a little over a hundred miles from the Royal Army.


    "What¡¯s more fatal is..."


    Su¡¯angua turned around to look at the kneeling Scout. The loyal Scout had traveled a hundred miles in a single day and brought the latest terrible news.


    "The Mexica Northern Army is rapidly moving south, having taken Ihuatzio City and blocked the passage westward. The enemy¡¯s Scouts have advanced nearly a hundred miles, closing in on the Royal Legion!"


    The young King calmly waved his hand, telling the Scout to stand down and rest. Then, with a resolute expression, he looked towards the re-erected Eagle Banner of the Royal Family.


    "Now, there is only one path left!"

 Chapter 424 - Two Hundred Eleven: The Day of the Decisive Battle

    The sunlight held a warmth, bestowing vitality upon the earth. As spring plowing approached, wild fires of burning fields raged in the mountains and forests, sending up layers of thick smoke. Smoke transformed and drifted afar in the sky, like a passage to the Divine Kingdom, foretelling the samurai¡¯s destined return.


    Hundreds of samurai, scouts, and envoys, clad in war clothes of different colors, marched through the smoke-shrouded southern hinterlands. Bearing different missions, they startled towns and villages along the way, shattering the last peace in the southern parts of the Kingdom. Three legions, from north to south, sought each other out in the fog of war, drawing nearer, preparing for a spirited slaughter.


    Intelligence from all directions converged, with King Su¡¯angua holding the home-ground advantage, being the first to discern the battlefield¡¯s entirety.


    The northern Mexica legion, centered around Ihuatzio City, numbered between ten and twenty thousand, half of which were armored samurai with sticks, and the other half comprised longbow-armed militia. The southern Mexica vanguard, after pillaging in the state of Apachigan, began moving north with about five thousand elite samurai. It seemed the two legions had established contact, drawing closer to each other. They were merely over two hundred li apart, and given a week, they could unite into an army difficult to defeat.


    Su¡¯angua had ten thousand elites at hand, seven thousand of which were loyal direct-subordinate samurai, and three thousand were reliable longbow militia. The two enemy forces were no more than a hundred li away; the moment the Royal Army moved, it would be impossible to conceal its tracks, and the enemy would soon pursue.


    "There¡¯s not much time left, defeating the enemies in the south won¡¯t aid our overall situation. The only path is to crush the northern Mexica main force before they converge! I trust in the loyal and brave Imperial Guard Legion! Defeat the enemy in the north, and the Great Army can return to the Capital, to support the Royal Family and House of Hummingbird, and to regroup the Kingdom¡¯s strength. Then, the road to retreat to the Colima Mountain Region will be open again, and there still exists hope!"


    After pondering for a moment, Su¡¯angua lowered his head, standing solemnly before the inherited Eagle Banner, silently praying to the sacred flag.


    "Holy winds envelop the Divine Descendant of the eagle, the light of the three gods bestows upon the War God¡¯s legion. May the ancestors bless us, victory or defeat hinges on this one move!"


    The young King then summoned his confidant, asking in a grave voice.


    "Has the Envoy sent to the Capital arrived?"


    "Your Highness, the accompanying scouts have confirmed, the Envoy has entered the Capital City. A response from the chief of the Hummingbird is surely on its way."


    "Good! Dispatch a squad of scouts around to the East, harass the northern enemy, and create an illusion of the Royal Army¡¯s presence. The rest of the samurai will feast for a day, prepared to march at any moment!"


    The long wind swept through, the fluttering Eagle Banner billowing. The golden sun turned to blood red, descending in the western sky. As night deepened, an Envoy finally arrived from the Northern Capital in haste, bringing the anticipated response. The young King no longer hesitated. At dawn the next day, ten thousand warriors from the Tarasco Kingdom emerged from their concealed forest manor. They were well-rested and high-spirited, surging towards the Ihuatzio City over a hundred li north.


    The tender sunlight twinkled on the tips of the long grass, these were pure morning dewdrops. Upon spying the enemy¡¯s traces, Black Wolf Toltec suddenly stood up from his hiding spot in the grass. He raised his longbow, three consecutive arrows felling three Tarasco scouts in a hurry. His Hunter squad behind him loosed a flurry of arrows, slaying the remaining seven enemies, staining the dewdrops a glaring red.


    Toltec nodded, contented, and climbed atop a mound. He looked towards the southern horizon, then his eyes widened in shock.


    "By the Chief Divine above, this... this is the Tarasco¡¯s most elite Royal Army!"


    On the southern fields, tens of thousands of Tarasco samurai were arrayed in tight marching formation, moving silently and swiftly. Eight hundred strong per battalion, neatly organized into twelve columns, they advanced without pause. Below the battalions, four squads of two hundred samurai each, each led by a Warrior Captain. The leading captain wore an Eagle Helmet adorned with two blue feathers, with a bright small flag fluttering behind him.


    At the army¡¯s vanguard flanks, hundreds of elite scouts spread out, each holding a longbow and dressed in the Royal Family¡¯s yellow War Clothes. And in the very center of the legion, Imperial Guards with copper helmets and bronze axes, carrying longbows on their backs, surrounded by a large flag. The flag, held high at four to five meters, with its nearly two-meter banner rippling in the wind, showed an eagle poised for flight, facing the northward direction to pounce!


    "The Tarasco Royal Family¡¯s inherited Eagle Banner! That¡¯s the Tarasco King! Su¡¯angua is there!"


    Toltec shouted in surprise. He scrutinized the warriors beneath the Royal Banner, ultimately his gaze settled on a conspicuous young king. Clad in gemstone-inlaid Gilded Armor, wielding a golden Bronze Divine Staff, emitting myriad brilliant rays in the morning sun, he was dazzling to behold.


    "This glare is blinding and throbbing to the eyes, impossible to see clearly what it looks like!"


    The golden light was so dazzling that the Toltec turned his head, only able to sneak glances with the corner of his eye. He saw the young king looking up, then raising his divine staff, pointing directly at him!


    The scattered scouts momentarily hesitated. Then, like yellow jackets commanded to attack, they fiercely pounced on the small Mexica scouting party ahead. The elite warriors, once within a hundred steps, drew their longbows in unison, emitting a buzzing akin to a swarm of bees.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    "Winds are fierce, pull back!"


    Seeing disaster loom, the Black Wolf Toltec turned on his heel and ran, shouting the secret scout code taught by His Highness as he went. Hundreds of arrows fell like lightning, blanketing the hillocks and instantly killing over a dozen militia hunters. The remaining dozens immediately turned and fled northward too.


    The Tarasco scout warriors relentlessly pursued them. They were prepared to annihilate the enemy and keep the royal army¡¯s movements secret as much as possible. These royal elite had formidable strength and experience, maintaining an effortless, steady jog, chasing for over twenty li. If the militia hunters showed even a hint of flagging or paused to catch their breath, they would instantly be overwhelmed by the "swarm," their final screams filling the air.


    Toltec ran wildly, with the "swoosh" of arrows raining behind him. It was only after more and more Mexica scouting teams were drawn to the fracas, engaging in combat with the kingdom¡¯s scout warriors, that the hunted Black Wolf finally saw a sliver of survival. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his war clothes and cursed softly under his breath. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Blessings of the Chief Divine! Chasing the tail of an elk in the forest, only to have it turn into a leopard on me! The royal army of Tarasco is indeed fierce! Their formations are neat, their marches tens of li without disorder; their commands are strict, their assaults as swift as the wind. No, I must hasten back to Ihuatzio and report to His Highness. Victory or defeat hinges on this battle; we must prepare thoroughly and gather all our strength for the fight!"


    The fleet-footed Toltec took a brief rest before continuing his sprint northward. He ran through fields of burning wild grass, crossed shallow streams of the spring season, climbed over gently sloping hillocks, and finally arrived outside the smokeless city of Ihuatzio under the deep night sky. The profound darkness was pierced by continuous campfires flickering like starlight, resembling a vast Milky Way sprawled upon the ground.


    As a trusted commander of His Highness, Toltec passed through unobstructed. Led by Bertade, he was once again in front of His Highness¡¯ tent, where he knelt on one knee and reported the urgent military intelligence.


    Xiulote sat cross-legged in front of the campfire, the bright firelight reflecting his resolute face. The young commander, dressed in a black war outfit and holding a finely crafted longbow, had been ready for battle for a long time. Upon hearing the intelligence on the royal army, he rose to his full height and laughed heartily.


    "Chasing the deer under heaven, finally the white deer appears! Victory or defeat in this single move. The grand trend of the world will be decided in this battle!"


    Afterward, Xiulote¡¯s expression became serious, and he gave forth the order.


    "Gather all the warriors in the city, tomorrow the entire army will head south to confront the Tarasco royal army! Call together all commanders, mobilize every camp officer, and prepare for the decisive battle! Lastly, gather the priests accompanying the army. I want to personally conduct the pre-battle sacrificial rite and pray to the War God for victory!"


    Early the next morning, the grand ceremony was swiftly carried out. With the Chief Divine as witness, the priests chanted and danced beside the Sacred Fire. Using gleaming obsidians and sturdy seashells for divination, they extracted from their cracks the prophecy of certain victory in this battle!


    Subsequently, Xiulote stood on the divine altar, loudly reciting the divine prophecy of victory, informing every warrior. Then, to the warriors, he announced, "If this battle is won, he will grant ranks and rewards according to military merits. Prominent militia will be elevated to samurai, exceptional samurai will advance to veterans, and a hundred veterans will be promoted to become nobility of the Alliance, awarded fertile land in the Lake Region of Tarasco!"


    Under His Highness¡¯ generous promises, tens of thousands of warriors and militia let out fervent cheers that shook the earth and heavens of the Patzcuaro Lake region. Thereafter, the entire Mexica northern army assembled and left the unwalled city of Ihuatzio, marching southward to face the suddenly emergent Tarasco royal army.


    The two great armies approached each other, with scouts on the perimeter engaging in fierce combat, each side¡¯s movements fully exposed to the opponent. Two days later, on the southern plains of the Patzcuaro Lake region, the two elite legions finally stood face to face, visible in each other¡¯s sight. The dust from the march rose into the sky and was dispersed by the mighty northerly winds, revealing the somber traces of the warriors.


    Xiulote, dressed in lavish war clothes and wearing a tall feather crown, with the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s banner behind him, strode up the hill and gazed at the Tarasco royal banner in the southern fields. The legions were vast, warriors stood opposed, flags fluttered in the wind, the eagle soared northward, and the Black Wolf pounced southward. The two armies were within a stone¡¯s throw of each other, ready for the decisive battle of today!

 Chapter 425 - 212: A King’s Regards

    The gentle spring breeze flowed over the tender earth, casting a warm aura across the vast wilderness. Yellow wildflowers bloomed across the plains of the Lake Region, red sparrows chased each other in low flight. Intertwining streams sang a murmuring melody, while the towering mountains undulated along the distant horizon. `Twas a time of tranquil peace amidst the lush grass beneath the clear spring sky.


    Yet beneath the splendid spring light, the air was thick with the ominous presence of boundless killing intent! Xiulote ascended a hillock, gazing into the distance, as the mighty legions emerged from the ends of his view. Tarasco¡¯s Royal Army, countless in number, arranged in a stern formation, came pouring forth like a great flood. The Samurai¡¯s steps showed no mercy as they crushed the blooming wildflowers underfoot and lowered their weapons, startling flocks of birds into the sky.


    Xiulote watched intently for a moment, his pupils narrowing slightly. The enemy troops moved in clusters, yet their ranks were without the slightest disarray. Afterward, several li away, the Royal Legion halted their march, gradually spreading to the flanks. The inherited Eagle Banner then became visible, standing tall at the center of the army¡¯s formation. The gaze of the Young Commander lingered on the ancient flag; the golden eagle, wings outspread as if ready to take flight, always stirred distant memories and thoughts profound.


    Shortly after, Xiulote¡¯s gaze drifted downward to the formation beneath the banner, his brow quickly furrowing. He observed for a moment, then turned his head towards the Head Warrior by his side.


    "Is that Tarasco¡¯s Copper-axe Guards?" S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bertade¡¯s Eagle Eye stared ahead, solemnly nodding in affirmation.


    "Yes, Your Highness. That is the core of Tarasco¡¯s Royal Family which commands the world, the most elite Copper-axe Guards. They were specially selected and formed by successive Tarasco Kings to counter the Alliance¡¯s most revered Eagle Warrior Battalion. Unlike the Nobility Battle Groups of the Alliance, the Copper-axe Guards are purely elite Samurai. They are entirely loyal to the Royal Family, do not own independent fiefs, and thus can sustain higher casualties in battle. Four years ago, they ambushed Aweit¡¯s Personal Army in the Apachigan Valley, defeating two thousand from the Jaguar Warrior Brigade and forcing King Aweit to flee eastward. The Alliance¡¯s grand army subsequently collapsed, and the first western campaign thus ended in failure."


    Xiulote gave a slight nod, falling into a contemplative silence. It was after that battle that Aweit had lost his military command, as well as his priority to the throne. The Lake Capital City underwent a tumult of changes, and afterwards, with the support of the Priesthood, Tizoc succeeded the kingship.


    Bertade retracted his sharp gaze, looking at Xiulote with grave seriousness.


    "Your Highness, a Mexica King cannot afford to lose in war... This Guard bears Copper Helmets and Copper Axes at their waists, and they also carry new Longbows on their backs. We must be especially vigilant."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s grip tightened slightly, though his face was filled with confidence. He laughed heartily.


    "Two years ago, on the North Coast of Lerma River, I saw this guard once. But it was across the great river, and there was no real combat. Today is a good day! Come, with my loyal warriors, let us personally break through this world-famous Imperial Guard and capture the Tarasco King alive!"


    Upon hearing the Lord¡¯s spirited words, the surrounding Personal Army also burst into shouting and cheering. The Black Wolf Commander¡¯s Flag stood majestically atop the hillock, with three thousand of the archer battalions subsequently stationed beneath the flag. Longbow Warriors occupied the high ground, with arrows planted in the mud before them. The vast melee battalions crossed over the hillock, forming up in front of the Commander¡¯s Flag. The center army consisted of seven thousand Spear Militia, the left wing was three thousand Religious Knights, and the right wing was the three thousand Holy City Legion. Around the perimeter of the warrior formations, there were two thousand patrolling Longbow Militia and a thousand elite Scouts from the Northern Army.


    As for the City-State legions, they could not keep up with the rapid march of the battalions and had suffered great losses in the battle on the Takuro Plains. The noble private militias were fickle in their loyalties, difficult to rely upon. For this decisive battle, Xiulote only summoned several hundred elite warriors from the City-State Nobility to replenish the Northern Army¡¯s Scout Team. The main force of the City-State Legion was stationed at the Huayamo Fortress, maintaining the supply lines while keeping pressure on Qinchongcan City.


    The grand army was in formation, with the Commander-in-Chief at its center. Xiulote stood on high ground, his gaze fixated upon the nearly twenty thousand assembled soldiers, as a fiery passion surged within him. He looked up to the vast blue sky. Fleeting clouds shaped like palaces in the heavens, while the Sun God ascended to the Throne of the Gods. Beneath the gaze of the Chief Divine, a grand ritual was about to commence!


    "Tens of thousands of Samurai warriors, two Divine Descendant Commanders, are but sacrifices to the Sun God. The rise and fall of the Kingdom rests on this one battle!"


    Across the miles, beneath the Eagle Banner, Su¡¯angua¡¯s countenance was filled with fervor as he surveyed his trusted followers, stirring the morale of his generals. Today, upon seeing the formation of the Northern Mexica Army, his heart sank. The opposing ranks were disciplined, their numbers far surpassing his own; this battle would be anything but easy.


    Thus, the young King gathered his trustworthy generals for one final, majestic promise.


    "The temples of the Three Gods, ancestral tombs, and your lands and manors, your relations and children, all depend on the weapons in our hands for protection! Go, tell the warriors under your command: Cazonci Su¡¯angua swears here that if we win this battle, upon our return to the Capital City, I will share all the Royal Family¡¯s lands and wealth with them! If we win this battle, no matter how few survivors there are, all Militia will be promoted to Samurai, all Samurai will be promoted to Nobility!"


    Upon hearing the King¡¯s promise, the various camp officers showed surprise, silently exchanging looks. In the loyal Royal Army, the King¡¯s authority was beyond question. After a moment, those who had reacted bowed deeply, thanked the King for his generosity, and returned to their camps. Soon after, a chorus of cheers rang out across the ranks.

 Chapter 426 - 212: A King’s Regards_2

    Su¡¯angua remained silent. He watched the Black Wolf Banner across from him, pondering deeply for a while, when a strange brilliance suddenly flashed in his eyes.


    "I hear the Mexica Commander-in-Chief is called Xiulote, quite young, not yet twenty?"


    A trusted aide beside him promptly stepped forward, bowing to reply.


    "Your Majesty is wise. According to the intelligence, the Marshal and Deputy Marshal on the northern route are descendants of the Mexica Royal Family, offspring of Itzcoatl. The Deputy Marshal is the father Xiuxoke, and the Marshal is his son Xiulote, both adopting names from the legacy of the God of Death. Moreover, Xiulote is the nominal heir to the current Alliance King, Aweit. It is said that he is only fifteen, rumored to be a reincarnation of a Sage, possessed of divine wisdom from previous lives."


    Su¡¯angua shook his head slightly. Even with innate intelligence, commanding an army to achieve such results at fifteen seemed improbable ¨C this was likely an exaggeration by the Mexica. But even if he were twenty, that was still very young, and his experience in certain areas must necessarily be lacking.


    "Born from a branch family, victorious in battles, youthful vigor..."


    The young King pondered for a while, his thoughts becoming clearer. He summoned his trusted aide.


    "In the name of the Tarasco Royal Family, as my Envoy, invite Mexica His Highness to a meeting on the battlefield."


    Afterward, Su¡¯angua gestured for his trusted aide to draw closer, whispering into his ear.


    "Hint in your words, that the King of Tarasco intends to surrender to His Highness Mexica. The King is willing to give up the great Capital City and the fertile southern territories, asking only to be given a fief in the desolate southwestern mountains, preserving the continuity of the Royal Family. Specific terms can be discussed face-to-face, but His Highness¡¯s personal promise must be obtained."


    The trusted aide opened his eyes in disbelief, looking towards the majestic ruler.


    "Your Majesty, this, this..."


    "I have made up my mind, go quickly and pass the message!"


    Su¡¯angua¡¯s face was as still as water, his voice stern as he watched his trusted aide bow his head and silently make his way to the front line. Only then did he slightly turn his head, summoning the Great General of the Personal Guard.


    "Yuku, my loyal hunting dog, you have always been brave and skilled in archery, have you become accustomed to the new Longbow?"


    In the Prepetcha language, Yuku signifies hunting dog and Coyote. In the Tarasco Kingdom, this was a noble family with a century of heritage, always serving as the Personal Guard of the Kingdom. Hearing the King¡¯s inquiry, a middle-aged warrior with an earnest face stepped forward silently. He knelt on one knee like a statue, bowing his head solemnly.


    "Your Majesty, with the new Longbow, a bird in flight within sixty steps."


    "And if the bird is still, how far can you assure a hit?"


    Yuku slightly raised his head, revealing his profound eyes. He followed the King¡¯s gaze, pondering for a moment, and answered cautiously.


    "Within one hundred and twenty steps, I could attempt it. Within one hundred steps, I would surely hit the Black Wolf."


    Su¡¯angua nodded slightly and then gave an order.


    "Yuku, quickly gather ten of the best archers among the Imperial Guards. Later, accompany me to meet the Mexica Commander-in-Chief." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then, he gestured for Yuku to come closer, whispering two sentences. The other party respectfully bowed with a serious demeanor and strode away.


    The young King thought for a moment, then spoke out loud again.


    "Summon the Priests to start the Sacred Fire, perform the pre-battle ritual, and pray to the trinity of gods! Bring forth the copper armor gifted by the Ivachio Coppersmiths, as well as the sturdy copper helmets!"


    The solemn ranks of the army unfolded with a clink, the burning flames crackled to life. The Priests of Tarasco built the divine altar, sparing no expense in casting baskets of spices into the fire, igniting pleasing divine smoke. Amidst the twining blue smoke, Su¡¯angua narrowed his eyes. His gaze shifted to his trusted Envoy, watching as the Envoy walked out of their formation, approached the enemy lines, then climbed a small hill, until he stood before the Black Wolf¡¯s Commander¡¯s Flag.


    Symbolizing the God of Death, the Black Wolf flew high on the flag, howling up at the newly risen sun. Beneath the flag, the Young Commander showed a look of surprise as he saw the enemy Envoy kneel before him.


    "The King of Tarasco, Cazonci of the Prepetcha, the eagle of the lands amidst the lake, His Majesty Su¡¯angua, extends his solemn regards to Your Highness of Mexica, Divine Revelator of the Tenochtitl¨¢n people, the Black Wolf of the City of the Gods, Marshal Xiulote... For the glory of the gods, two great Alliances fight a deadly battle, sacred blood flows wantonly... At this moment, the earth is submerged in crimson, the world has reached the end of the divine war... Kings meet under the watchful eyes of the gods, leaving their immortal declarations..."


    "As the Supreme Sun God ascends into the sky, the moon falls behind the mountains. The eagle of the lake is willing to land on the Cactus, allowing its spines to pierce its wings... It bows its head and cries softly to the mighty Black Wolf, offering up the fattest fish from Lake Patzcuaro... From this moment on, the eagle shall enter the caverns of the southwest, guarding the frontier there for the sun..."


    Xiulote skipped the ritualistic preamble, mulled over the metaphorical phrases, then asked in surprise.


    "Are you saying, in the face of the two armies, Su¡¯angua is willing to surrender to the Alliance, offering up the Patzcuaro Lake region? The southwest, guarding... is he requesting a fief in the southwest?"


    The Envoy pursed his lips, solemnly nodded his head without a word. His expression carried a hint of despair along with a final stubborn resistance.


    "No, the esteemed Majesty did not say this. He simply wishes for Your Highness of Mexica to meet him before the formation. Following the noble protocol of the Tula people, the royal families of two divine descendants should meet and greet each other before the formal battle commences. This battle is destined to be immortalized by poets, becoming an eternal chapter in their works. The two Kings should meet before the battle, to leave their names in the annals of epics!"


    Observing the Envoy¡¯s demeanor, Xiulote showed a slight smile.


    "You are a fine Envoy; you may step back and wait for now!"


    Two Personal Guard Warriors then stepped forward and led the enemy Envoy away. Xiulote looked towards the distant enemy¡¯s Royal Banner, falling into deep thought. After a while, he turned his attention to his Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, a battle between our forces is imminent that will decide the fate of the world. At this time, Su¡¯angua is inviting me to meet before the formation, what could be his intention?"


    Bertade pondered for a moment, then replied calmly.


    "Your Highness, Su¡¯angua is either truly surrendering or harboring ill intentions. He might hope to persuade Your Highness, seeking an opportunity; or perhaps he is merely stalling for time, waiting for reinforcements. But his thoughts are not important. What matters is what Your Highness intends. Do you wish for Su¡¯angua to surrender?"


    Hearing the Head Warrior¡¯s question, Xiulote laughed heartily.


    "Of course! The outcome of this battle is still unknown. Although our forces hold a numerical advantage, the enemy is entirely composed of elite troops."


    The Young Commander gazed at the opposing side. Tens of thousands of Tarasco Royal Army troops arrayed in a formidable formation, well-equipped, lining up steadily in front of the Mexica legion. A warm breeze carried the distant sounds of the enemy¡¯s faint cheers and the aroma of spices. The Priests of Tarasco danced wildly around the Sacred Fire on the divine altar, lifting the morale of the great army.


    "The Royal Legion is different from the Chapala Legion; they are unified, determined to fight to the death. The Northern Army is composed entirely of my loyal direct line, and even if we emerge victorious from a bloody battle, who knows how many warriors will be lost. If just by meeting once, I can receive the surrender of the Tarasco army, it would be like a generous gift from the Chief Divine! Qinchongcan would fall without a fight, and even this year¡¯s spring plowing in the Lake Region could be on time!"


    A smile appeared on Xiulote¡¯s face. He hoped to preserve the vitality of the lands around the lake, whether they be civilians or warriors. Because in his heart, he harbored vast future plans, too many grand schemes.


    Bertade looked at the Young Commander, observing the bright light in his eyes. The Head Warrior fell silent for a moment before speaking implacably.


    "Then, my Prince, can you accept Su¡¯angua¡¯s surrender?"

 Chapter 427 - Two Hundred and Thirteen: Duel

    Wisps of blue smoke rose, carrying the Priest¡¯s song to the deities above. Xiulote stood silently under the banner of the deities, gazing up at the sky. After a long moment, he responded slowly but firmly.


    "Bertade, you¡¯re right. I cannot accept Su¡¯angua¡¯s surrender."


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes briefly lowered; when he opened them again, they were ablaze with the flames of war.


    "The Tarasco Royal Family cannot be spared! This is not only the will of the elders but also a necessity for ruling over the lands of the lake. The Mexica Alliance does not seek nominal submission from the Tarascans but direct control over each conquered City-State, to truly put down roots in this fertile land."


    "My conflict with Su¡¯angua is irreconcilable. The Patzcuaro Lake region must become my foundation to lay the groundwork for future endeavors, and the southwest mountain area offers great opportunities for societal development! Annihilating the Royal Family, relocating the Nobility, reforming the Priesthood, developing iron mines... my plans cannot change. Only a blank slate can yield a magnificent tapestry!"


    Listening to the declaration of the young King, Bertade bowed his head in respect, offering his suggestion reverently.


    "Your Highness, if this is the case, there is no need for you to meet with Su¡¯angua. The Tarasco Nobility is like the Crocodiles in the Tarsus River, ferocious, barbaric, and cunning. The great Teotihuacan Empire has vanished for a thousand years, and the noble Tula Kingdom has also been reduced to mounds. Ancient courtesies hold no real significance for an emerging Alliance."


    The Head Warrior paused, the arrow wound on his back seemingly still causing him dull pain. His face was calm like still water, showing the perseverance characteristic of a commoner Samurai.


    "Your Highness, you are the future Sun God, and you should not meet privately with the enemy¡¯s Royal Family, nor can you afford to lose the most important trust of a King! You hope for Su¡¯angua¡¯s genuine surrender to swiftly end the war; yet, you cannot truly accept his surrender and swear allegiance before the entire army."


    As he spoke, Bertade¡¯s eyes flashed with the fierceness of a seasoned warrior, treating life and death as commonplace.


    "Then let a distinguished member of the Royal Army take your place and meet with the King of Tarasco! If the King of Tarasco truly wishes to lay down his weapons, let this person accept all terms and swear an oath to the deities against Su¡¯angua!"


    Xiulote was startled briefly, looking at his trusted Head Warrior.


    "A distinguished member of the Royal Family? Who would that be?"


    "The honored Nobility from Tlatelolco, ¡¯The Destroyer¡¯ Tepopolo. The Tlatelolco lineage has been intermarrying with the Royal Family for generations; Tepopolo¡¯s mother and grandmother were both princesses of the Mexica Royal Family. And within the Legion, he often claims to represent the Royal Family."


    "Anna has mentioned this to me. Rumor has it among the Capital City Nobility that Tepopolo intends to give up his family lands, seeking a suitable fief within the vast expanse of the Tarasco Kingdom. He has deep roots, and is the first honored Nobility to actively offer up his lands. Neither King Aweit nor the immortal elders will treat him unfairly."


    "Although he cannot be compared to Your Highness and has no chance at the fertile Patzcuaro Lake region, he will inevitably establish a foothold in the lands of Michoac¨¢n. This makes him a potential competitor to Your Highness. Since he is unaware of the elder¡¯s will, let him go to persuade Su¡¯angua to surrender!"


    At this point, Bertade stopped speaking. Whether Tepopolo succeeded in inducing surrender, broke his promise and lost credibility, or failed to persuade and was attacked and killed, the outcome would be to the advantage and no harm of Your Highness.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze became profound. After a moment, he nodded slightly.


    "Let it be as you say."


    Then, the Young Commander ordered loudly.


    "Notify Su¡¯angua¡¯s Envoy. Tell him that, following ancient tradition, the Mexica Royal Family will meet with the Tarasco Royal Family in front of both armies!"


    "Summon the honored Nobility Tepopolo. I want to instruct him personally!"


    The sun climbed atop the sky, sitting majestically upon the clouds, patiently observing humanity. The vast military formations fully spread out across the plains. Two enormous armies, separated by a distance of miles, waited for the decisive battle of fate. Seasoned warriors sat on the ground, placing their weapons before them. Their expressions were calm as they conserved their strength for battle, occasionally chatting and laughing with one another, having long become accustomed to facing death in war. The Militia, though lower in status and under strict discipline, continued to maintain the integrity of their formation, loosening their legs on the spot, silently waiting for the deities¡¯ verdict.


    Before long, two groups of nearly a hundred men each slowly emerged from both armies¡¯ formations. The banners of the Mexica and Tarasco Royal Families waved in front of the troops, with elite warriors surrounding their leaders.


    "The Destroyer" Tepopolo, adorned in a majestic Nobility¡¯s War Clothes and wearing a battle Feather Crown that hung down his back, strode confidently at the front.


    Since leading three thousand warriors in the western expedition, Tepopolo¡¯s journey had been full of setbacks, with most of his anticipated power and glory coming to naught. First, his proposal to the Naval Commander Annatri failed, depriving him of a role in the Alliance¡¯s Naval Forces. Then, he was stationed at the North Coast fortress for months where he endured the dampness of the rainy season, practicing the inglorious art of the Longbow alongside Royal Warriors. Next was a significant battle on Lake Yuriria, where he nearly lost half his men in front-line combat. The memory of the ordeal still made him shudder.


    Following a lengthy recuperation, it wasn¡¯t until after the capture of the Rivermouth fortress that his Legion was transferred there, taking control of a critical logistical hub. Just as he was becoming strategically engaged, entertaining Tarasco Nobility who had surrendered, the shrewd Xiuxoke used the opportunity of taking Huayamo to leave his troops at the Rivermouth fortress and send him personally to the front-line Legion to participate in the "glorious campaign to besiege the Capital City."


    As reinforcements sent by the King, Tepopolo understood the misgivings of the Holy City lineage. He had neither the chance nor the intent to vie for military command on the northern route. As the western conquest seemed assured, he had already set his sights on the future. Envoys sent last month had returned with definitive promises from the King, communicated through the Intelligence Officer.


    "Though not the best, it was acceptable."


    Tepopolo smiled as he thought.


    "Whether His Highness Xiulote, the Marshal, is being prudent and cautious or avoiding suspicion, the opportunity for a meeting has ultimately fallen upon me! The singing of epics is a thing of the after. If I can persuade the Royal Army of Tarasco to surrender, I can truly establish a foundation in the land of Michoac¨¢n and build connections with the Tarasco nobility. As a valiant samurai, how could I be hesitant? For such an honor, what does it matter if I have to risk a little!"


    Tepopolo walked proudly, lifting his gaze to the front¡ªthe Royal Banner of Tarasco was now less than a hundred steps away. Surrounded by the Copper-axe Guards, a tall King dressed in golden copper armor and wearing a purple copper helmet majestically lifted a godly staff adorned with a blue gemstone, greeting him from afar.


    Tepopolo¡¯s expression turned serious. He raised the family scepter in his hand, returning the Tarasco king¡¯s respectful salute with solemnity. At the same time, he called out to the approaching troop with a voice both confident and loud.


    "Member of the Mexican Royal Family, the noble of Tlatelolco, ¡¯Destroyer¡¯ Tepopolo, pays his respects to the ancient Tarasco Royal Family! This is the noble greeting of the Divine Descendants, and also a meeting witnessed by the gods above!" S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Thereafter, the noble Tepopolo lowered his scepter, nodding slightly towards the opposing side. When he lifted his head again, the king opposite had not yet replied, still holding the Divine Staff aloft. Tepopolo pondered for a moment, thinking this might be an ancient ritual of waiting practiced by the Tula people, and so he once again lifted his scepter, shouting loudly.


    "Under the witness of the Chief Divine, the great divine war will soon come to an end! The Sun God has received enough Holy Blood to continue burning and illuminating the world of men! The supreme Alliance takes on the duty of commanding the world, saving all tribes and the masses!"


    It took a long while before the answer from the Tarasco people finally came, after both troops had come within sixty steps of each other.


    "The King of Tarasco, Cazonci of the Prepecha, the mighty eagle of the lake-lands, His Majesty Su¡¯angua himself is here to pay respects to the emerging Mexican Royal Family!"


    "The Sun God watches over us, guiding the fate of all things. The sacred blood flows in the bodies of the Divine Descendants, determining the destiny of the world. Only the future sovereign can converse with the supreme King. May I ask if His Highness Xiulote of Mexico is among the troops ahead?"


    Tepopolo¡¯s face darken, and he felt a slight anger in his heart, he gritted his teeth, and shouted loudly.


    "According to the traditions of the Alliance, His Highness Xiulote bears the banner of the Commander-in-Chief, carrying the glory of the War God. Once he takes his position in the legion, he will not move a single step until the battle ends! The Tlatelolco line has been passed down for a century and is one of Mexico¡¯s oldest families. As a noble of Tenochtitlan, I will fully represent the Alliance and the Royal Family!"


    Again, there was a long wait with no answer. Tepopolo¡¯s heart sunk. With a last hope, he made a promise.


    "I swear on my family¡¯s name, in the land of cacti and rock, a place of rest shall surely be provided for the eagle of the lake!"


    Across the sixty steps, Su¡¯angua came to a halt. He did not respond to the calls from the other side, but with the last hope of his own, he carefully observed the Mexican leader. Through the feathered helmet, he saw the middle-aged features of the man. Then, he scrutinized the Mexican samurai behind, judging their sizes and statures. After searching for a few moments, he finally sighed in disappointment.


    Several steps behind Su¡¯angua, the "Hound" samurai Yuku clutched his longbow tightly, staring intently at the Mexican leader, while also using his peripheral vision to watch the Divine Staff indicated by the King. He understood the importance of his mission, and all along the way, he had been mentally rehearsing, estimating the precise distance. For a seasoned hunter, the chance to hunt flying birds is always fleeting; drawing the bow and shooting rapidly had become his battle instinct. Steady hand, sharp eye, and perfect coordination¡ªhalf-drawn bow, and the prey would drop at the sound of release.


    However, Yuku waited in silence and tension for a long time, but the Divine Staff never descended. He hesitated for a moment, then made a waiting gesture to the Divine Archers behind him. Afterward, he stepped forward a few paces and asked softly.


    "Your Majesty, it seems the Marshal of Mexico has not appeared. This member of their Royal Family, do you need me to take action and retain him?"


    Su¡¯angua shook his head with a trace of helplessness, finally letting his Divine Staff fall.


    "The proud eagle cannot catch the noble Gelchar bird; what use is there grasping a chattering red sparrow?"


    Then, Su¡¯angua¡¯s expression turned stern, as he called out authoritatively to the other side.


    "The glory of the King is inviolable! If the Black Wolf of Mexico is unwilling to meet, then the Divine Eagle of Tarasco will certainly not land on the ground! If so, let the sacred battle decide our fate!"


    Su¡¯angua paused for a moment, turned to his confidant beside him, and asked in a low voice.


    "You¡¯ve come all this way for nothing. When can we expect reinforcement from the Capital City?"


    The confidant, touched with gratitude, bowed respectfully and replied in a low voice as well.


    "The scouts have made contact with the Capital City. The Chief has dispatched three thousand warriors on their way to assist us. These past two days, the reinforcements have maintained stealth, and they are now more than twenty leagues away."


    "Three thousand warriors, more than twenty leagues... In that case, let¡¯s challenge the Mexicans to a duel!"


    Su¡¯angua nodded, the doubt in his eyes disappearing in a flash. It was then that the thought crossed his mind; how could the Capital City still muster three thousand warriors at this time? After marching tens of leagues, how much fighting strength would they have left? He forced himself to clear his thoughts, putting on a confident smile once again, and called out loud to the opposite side.


    "Mexicans value brave warriors, and Tarascans are no different. In accordance with ancient rites, fearless Tarasco warriors challenge the valiant Mexican samurai to a duel! Under the gaze of the War God, let the most courageous samurai clash in combat, offering the highest salute!"

 Chapter 428 - 214: To the Master - Part 1

    The sun sat high, encircled by thousands of clouds, the profound sky reflecting the grandeur of the earth below. And at the king¡¯s call, a hundred people repeated, their booming voices echoing in front of the army lines. Hearing Su¡¯angua¡¯s challenge for a duel, the warriors of both armies were instantly exhilarated. They tightened their grips on their weapons and murmured amongst themselves in low voices.


    In this era, most believed that the fate of mortals was already determined by the deities, and earthly wars pleased the gods above. Death was always visible, unavoidable, and could come at any time. Only a glorious death could ascend to the Divine Kingdom, offering the soul its most beautiful resting place. And a sacred duel represented the most honorable death and victory!


    Not far away, in the ranks of the Mexica envoy, Black Wolf Torc, wearing a subdued wolf helmet, stared unblinkingly at the King of Tarasco. He gripped his longbow in hand; despite the sixty paces between them, he never found a chance to shoot. Copper-axe Guards, holding great shields, tightly shielded the king in front of him, whose body and head were adorned with glittering metal armor.


    Torc slightly tilted his head; the bright glare of the armor once again blinded his eyes. He clicked his tongue in regret and envy, then embarked on his next mission as ordered by his lord, committing to memory Su¡¯angua¡¯s appearance and stature to prepare for a potential pursuit. Soon, a middle-aged warrior with precise steps approached Su¡¯angua and whispered a few words. The King of Tarasco then put down his Divine Staff and shouted loudly, challenging the Mexica army to a duel!


    Stirred by the sacred duel, Black Wolf Torc¡¯s spirit soared. He bared his teeth, a wolfish grin spreading across his face, his eyes alight with immense fighting spirit, sweeping over the elite warriors beside the king. At that moment, the middle-aged warrior also looked over, his face showing a rustic and firm expression. In that instant, as their eyes met, each saw in the other a similar confidence and yearning!


    The call for a duel echoed in front of the lines. Under the flag of the Black Wolf, Xiulote paused thoughtfully, then looked toward the Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, where is Iskali¡¯s southern detachment now?"


    "Your Highness, the last report was from the day before yesterday. By then, he had already obeyed the order to lead his troops northward, rapidly marching from over a hundred miles south to Ihuatzio City. In the past two days, the Tarasco Royal Army has expanded in the south, obscuring the surrounding battlefield and temporarily severing communication between the envoys and scouts. However, Su¡¯angua¡¯s army has already been revealed. If Iskali has the heart for battle, he must be on his way here!"


    Xiulote nodded, smiling as he spoke.


    "The month of the final end has long brought him fame; he has never feared battle. Therefore, let us accept Su¡¯angua¡¯s challenge!"


    The Young Commander then raised his right hand, responding to the front, with hundreds of his trusted aides echoing loudly beside him.


    "War God Huitzilopochtli protects us! The Alliance¡¯s warriors fear no challenge! Su¡¯angua, if you want battle, then battle it shall be!"


    The bold response echoed between heaven and earth, the brief shout ringing like a war drum. Su¡¯angua looked surprised, thoughtful. He paused for a moment, touching the extraordinarily sturdy bronze armor he wore, then hardened his expression and continued to respond loudly.


    "The Sun God watches over us! The sacred duel is supreme! In the name of the deities, I, King of Tarasco, Cazonci of the Prepetcha people, Divine Descendant Su¡¯angua, challenge the prince of Tenochtitlan, Divine Revelator, Divine Descendant Xiulote, to a relentless battle of honor that will not cease until death!"


    "What?!"


    This time it was Xiulote¡¯s turn to look surprised. A duel between two commanders, even in the ancient era of Teotihuacan, was exceedingly rare. A one-on-one duel between two kings was utterly unprecedented in the epics. Such a confrontation had too many uncertainties, with neither side fully confident of victory.


    Bertade stepped forward anxiously, whispering advice.


    "Your Highness, you are a brilliant sun, there¡¯s no need to compete with the eagle for height! Besides, you are still young, and your martial skills will certainly surpass mine in time!"


    At these words, Xiulote¡¯s face flushed slightly. He smiled and spoke.


    "Don¡¯t worry, Bertade, I¡¯m aware of my current level. This is mere bravado, and I focus on the world, so it won¡¯t weigh on my mind. Su¡¯angua¡¯s imposition of such an impossible demand likely reflects his disadvantage and desperation, but it is also designed to strike at our army¡¯s morale. Now, I feel even more confident about our victory in the upcoming battle!"


    With that, Xiulote¡¯s demeanor turned solemn, and he shouted again toward the front.


    "True kings never enter the fray lightly, relying on their martial prowess to seek victory. For kings are meant to rule, and warriors are meant to fight! Why should the Wolf King personally hunt the white deer? Go forth, my loyal and brave warriors, and prove your glory to your king!"


    The intense battle drums resounded immediately, and the Temple Guards blew the harrowing Death Whistle while veteran warriors issued thrilling roars that shook the heavens. Following that, the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s pennant was waved. A hundred brave Mexica warriors, renowned for their valor, then stepped out from the elite scout team. They strode up to the front lines of the two armies, bellowing angrily at the Tarasco legion.


    Witnessing the sacred duel, Izel of the Tlalocan State was passionately excited¡ªit was the quickest way to fame! He gripped his war club, ready to step forward out of line. At the crucial moment, the aged Head Warrior grabbed his shoulder, delivering a swift side throw that toppled him to the ground.


    "Who?... You!... Head Warrior, why did you attack me?"


    The aged Head Warrior gave Izel a sidelong glance and then spoke with a calm demeanor.


    "Izel, you represent the Family Head in warfare, and I must preserve your life. Although His Highness has praised your bravery in person, you need to have a clear understanding of yourself. I followed the great predecessor monarch Montezuma and participated in ritual combat at the frontline against the Mistec people."


    At this, the aged Head Warrior lifted his war clothes to reveal a long, narrow scar across his chest, nearly splitting him in two.


    "Ritual combat, fighting to the death, is not something the likes of you can partake in now! Just watch carefully. Only when your martial arts surpass mine might you stand a chance to survive the melee when luck is on your side!"


    Izel clenched his teeth in resentment as he got up from the ground. He sullenly raised his head and looked towards the front lines, his expression soon growing solemn. After a while, sweat began to seep out from his brow.


    The Tarasco King¡¯s troops had already returned to their formation. Over a hundred Tarasco warriors holding copper axes, war clubs, or copper spears, stepped into the battlefield at the front of the formations. Warriors from both sides held up their weapons and shields, boasting of their bravery to the War God. The warriors in the formations also shouted loudly at the opposing side. The War Priests sung gloriously, calling for the descent of the War God. Following that, along with a piercing chant, the abrupt battle drums suddenly struck!


    The warriors from both sides immediately erupted into a cry of do-or-die, gripping their weapons and charging towards each other. In merely a dozen breaths, two hundred warriors were completely entangled with each other.


    Izel watched, overwhelmed with amazement. The battle skills of these veteran warriors were so proficient that almost every fight drew admiration! Their sweeping strikes, forward thrusts, downward slashes, shield lifts, side shifts, shield counterstrikes, quick advances, small leaps backward, and diagonal steps¡ªeach movement was meticulously honed, swift, and concise, captured perfectly. It was the dance of life and death!


    The elite Samurai always treated their shields as their lives, and frontal combat rarely ended quickly. A Mexica Samurai smashed down with his war club twice, then delivered a powerful kick, pushing back the shield-bearing enemy in front of him. He took a deep breath, without a pause, and suddenly twisted diagonally. With a sharp sweep of his war club, he struck another enemy engaged in battle. The Tarasco Samurai heard the sound of the wind and struggled to shift his shield to the side. Another opponent showed no mercy, stepping forward to press down on his shield with his weapon. The sweeping war club came abruptly, howling with immense force. The Tarasco Samurai only had time for a look of horror to cross his face before his neck snapped with a "crack," and his face was smashed beyond recognition.


    It was a lethal strike, precise and concise in its carnage. The Mexica Samurai who made the first kill flashed a brilliant smile and nodded to his fellow warrior in acknowledgment. However, within a mere two breaths, his smile froze forever, and his head drooped eternally. With a "splat" and a "hiss," a sharp spear tip emerged from his chest and retracted abruptly. Blood spurted from the pierced heart, spraying several meters in a fan shape and covering another Samurai. Immediately after, the dead body fell forward with a "thump," and the sharp Copper Spear thrust violently from behind the corpse. The blood-soaked Mexica Samurai gritted his teeth and roared angrily, raising his shield in prepared defense. A new round of intense fighting broke out!


    Calm standoffs were always brief, and fierce fighting escalated quickly. Under the eyes of tens of thousands of warriors, two hundred brave men roared, screamed, and bled. In just a few breaths, the ground before them was stained with the first layer of bright red.


    "Shriek," skilled Scout Necali made a savage sneak attack, slashing obliquely through the cotton War Clothes and slicing open the enemy¡¯s flank. "Hiss," blood and guts suddenly poured out from the huge cut. Necali flashed a cruel smile. He didn¡¯t bother with the doomed enemy but immediately stepped back, quickly crouching and raising his shield to avoid any potential attacks. He then swept his gaze around, constantly moving, looking for the next opportunity to fight.


    "Crack," "thump," another successful ambush. Necali smiled smugly once again. Then he curiously smacked his lips. The feeling of his last slash seemed a bit off? The experienced Scout quickly stepped back, distancing himself from the frontline, and looked around. The brutal battlefield was already filled with blood and dying moans. In less than a quarter of an hour, more than half of the duelists had died!


    The Mexica Samurai now had the advantage in numbers. The elite warriors howled, gradually encircling the Tarascan from both sides. The frontal fighting grew even more intense and wild, with bloodshot Tarasco warriors occasionally discarding their shields, abandoning defense. They charged with Copper Spears in both hands, dying themselves while killing the enemy, joining their opponents in the Divine Kingdom! S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seeing this, Necali shook his head. This was the final frenzy of a dying beast. Then, he finally dared to lower his head to examine his war club. Blood flowed slowly from the club¡¯s slot, absorbed by the cotton wrapped around the handle. The obsidian blades fixed in the slot were completely dulled, their brilliant red glinting in the sunlight.


    "Pah, damn these hard-skulled Tarascans!" Necali muttered a curse, then again crouched and raised his shield. He quietly moved forward on the advancing battlefield, searching for a suitable weapon.


    In just a moment, his eyes lit up as he spotted a shiny Bronze Axe a few steps away. He fiercely kicked aside the body of a high-ranking Tarasco warrior and swiftly picked up the axe from the ground. The smooth blade was exceptionally sharp, the metal surface gleaming coldly, reflecting his young, fierce face. Facing himself in the Bronze Axe, Necali paused briefly. Moments later, amidst the loud cries of the battlefield, he couldn¡¯t hold back and again broke into a brilliant grin, like that of a hunter before the hunt!

 Chapter 429 - 215: To the Master - Part 2

    "Goddess Haratana, receive my spirit!"


    A piercing cry echoed at the forefront between the two armies, as the last dueling Tarasco samurai violently hurled his shield forward. Then, surrounded by more than ten Mexica samurai, he swung his bronze axe desperately with both hands at the nearest foe.


    "Bang!"


    The Mexica samurai in front quickly ducked and raised his shield. The sharp axe harshly chopped into the shield, embedding itself a full quarter into the wood.


    "Pfft!" Before the Tarasco samurai could pull out his bronze axe, Necali on the side stepped forward, crouched, and chopped at the opponent¡¯s thigh, slicing through a vital artery, as warm liquid suddenly spurted out. The Tarasco samurai immediately lost strength and became unsteady. The surrounding Mexica samurai then rushed forward, violently swinging their war clubs, and instantly killed the opponent.


    Necali let his blood-dripping bronze axe hang down and stood up proudly. He looked around; the vast battlefield was blood-red, with corpses scattered across the fields. A gentle breeze caressed his face, like the War God¡¯s benevolent hands, carrying a rich scent of blood. The veteran scout closed his eyes, took a deep breath of the faintly sweet and bloody air. The glory of battle, the joy of victory, resonated in his chest. Then, he and the other samurai spread their arms and shouted towards the sky.


    "War God Huitzilopochtli protects us! The sacred victory belongs to the Alliance! Glorious Mexica samurai, invincible in battle!" S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Invincible in battle!!"


    Having witnessed the victory in the first duel, the Mexica ranks erupted in earth-shattering cheers. The samurai shouted in unison, praying to the heavenly deities, praising the glory of the warriors! The priests once again began their ritual dance, chanting poems praising the War God. Meanwhile, the Tarasco ranks were silent; the Royal Army¡¯s samurai appeared somber, their morale visibly dropping.


    "What an exceptionally splendid duel! I will richly reward the victorious samurai, elevating them to combat nobility!"


    Atop a small hill, Xiulote smiled, unable to resist clapping in admiration. His gaze swept over the survivors, quietly counting the number of people to be honored, then his heart sank.


    Of the hundred Mexica samurai who participated in the duel, fewer than twenty could now stand on the battlefield. This was an attrition rate of over eighty percent, a blood-soaked offering to the deities! And for the Tarasco samurai, the attrition rate was even one hundred percent. The surviving Mexica samurai showed no mercy. They pulled out their obsidian daggers and checked each body on the ground. If they found an enemy still alive, they delivered a final stab to a vital spot; if they found a wounded comrade who could still be treated, they carefully carried him to the rear.


    The Royal Army of Tarasco silently watched all this and no one stepped out to intervene. The sacred duel was just like this: witnessed by the deities, contending at the forefront, fighting to the death!


    "Skilled in battle techniques, fiercely experienced, devout believers in the deities, regarding death as life itself. So many veteran Mexica samurai indeed!"


    Su¡¯angua¡¯s eyes sparkled as he pondered the details of the duel. In this duel bound to mutually exhaust both sides, he had not used his most elite Copper-axe Guards, nor had the opposing commander used his Personal Army; all those who participated were regular experienced samurai. And from the details, one could see the bigger picture; the elite Mexica samurai, promoted based on military merit, clearly excelled in martial arts.


    "So, in the decisive battle, we must avoid close combat as much as possible. Rely more on the Royal Army¡¯s discipline, depend on the sharpness of the copper troops, form spear formations to support each other... If group fighting at the front is disadvantageous, proceed with single combats of the warriors!"


    The young King nodded slightly, then waved the Divine Staff. Once again, war drums sounded in the Tarasco ranks. A strong Copper Axe Warrior then stepped out from the Imperial Guards and approached the front lines between the two armies.


    "Sun God Curicaveri bless! I, a warrior from Apachigan, ¡¯Crocodile Catcher¡¯ Xitlalama, challenge the bravest Mexica samurai!"


    Having returned, the Toltec stood just behind His Highness in the guard squad. Hearing the Tarasco challenge, the battle-hungry Black Wolf immediately stepped forward, his eyes glowing, he exclaimed.


    "Your Highness, I, the Toltec, wish to enter the battle!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote paused to think for a moment, then smiled and nodded.


    "Good! My Black Wolf, go and capture some prey for me, showcasing your skills in front of the two army formations!"


    The Toltec excitedly bowed in salute. Javelins or arrows, deemed dishonorable, were not allowed in front-line duels. Black Wolf thus set down his longbow and copper arrows, carrying only his handy war club and shield, and boldly stepped out from the ranks.


    "War God Huitzilopochtli protects! I, a warrior from Tepanecapan, ¡¯Black Wolf¡¯ Toltec, challenge the Tarasco samurai!"


    Toltec flashed a brilliant smile, his face brimming with tremendous confidence. The opposing warrior nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then drew the copper axe from his waist. The two stood on the blood-stained battlefield, positioned about a dozen paces from each other.


    Black Wolf¡¯s smile faded as he gripped his war club and shield tightly. His eyes intently focused on his opponent¡¯s figure, his gaze sharp as a blade sweeping over the fatal spots¡ªhead, neck, side waist, and groin.


    Momentarily silent, the sound of the war drums suddenly erupted. Both warriors half-raised their shields, moved forward a few steps, and quickly closed the distance to where their weapons could clash. Then, their footsteps began to rapidly shift, both trying to move to the opponent¡¯s difficult-to-guard side, like circling wild wolves. Their weapons also lightly swayed, making it hard to predict who would launch the attack first.

 Chapter 430 - Two Hundred and Fifteen: Homage to the Master Part 2

    The tense standoff and shifting movements continued for a good dozen breaths. Xitlalama kept catching glimpses of Toltec with his peripheral vision, and then his expression tensed as he realized the opponent¡¯s agility surpassed his own. He halted his hesitation, let out a ferocious yell, and suddenly lunged forward. His left arm swung the massive shield outward, disrupting his adversary¡¯s line of sight, while his right arm drew slightly back, his gaze locked onto the side of the opponent¡¯s waist¡ªit was a swift, chopping strike!


    In this life-and-death moment, Toltec¡¯s eyes lit up. He sidestepped, darting diagonally forward two steps, pressing against the opponent¡¯s left shield arm and avoiding the right hand¡¯s chop. Following that, Black Wolf¡¯s left shield pushed forward, disrupting the turn attempt of his opponent, as his right hand swung upward from a lower angle.


    "A hit to the head!!"


    "Bang, crack," a crisp collision followed by the sound of breaking bones. The Obsidian Club traced a cruel arc, slamming viciously into the back of the Tarasco warrior¡¯s head.


    "Uh! Hmph¡­" The broken neck constrained the throat, cutting Xitlalama¡¯s scream short, turning it into a deep nasal groan. He whimpered twice like a dying wild rabbit, blood flowing from his nostrils, his head shook and then tilted to the side, falling.


    "Bang!" Toltec, without any restraint, struck the Tarasco warrior¡¯s head again. The foe "thudded" heavily to the ground, letting go of the Battle Axe in his hands, his limbs twitched violently twice, and then he fell silent. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Swift speed, immense strength, precise timing! A true warrior¡¯s duel¡ªnever a missed attack, victory or defeat manifested with a single motion, life and death but a moment¡¯s transition!


    Toltec looked at his fallen opponent, then cracked a smile once again, showing pure joy. He took deep breaths to steady his rapid breathing from the exertion. Next, Black Wolf raised his arms high, shouting loudly toward the forward lines.


    "Blessed by War God Huitzilopochtli! I, Black Wolf Toltec, have defeated my opponent!! I am his Highness¡¯s Black Wolf, the hunter of Tarasco¡¯s white deer!!!"


    The bold shouting spread far and wide. Seeing the warrior who boasted victory, Su¡¯angua¡¯s face darkened. He turned his head to look at his trusted aide, the Great General Yuku.


    "Yuku, my loyal hound. If it were you in the arena, what would be the probability of victory?"


    Yuku, as if carved from stone, watched Toltec¡¯s flushed face and spoke in a deep voice.


    "Skilled in battle technique, quick in movement. His breathing is a bit erratic, but his strength remains. Your Majesty, I am sixty percent confident."


    Su¡¯angua shook his head slightly and waved the Divine Staff again. Another fierce-looking Copper Axe Warrior saluted the King, silently stepping out from among the Imperial Guards. He carried an exceptionally large shield and, looking at Toltec standing in the field, shouted loudly.


    "Blessed by the Sun God! I, the warrior from Saka, ¡¯Graceful Deer¡¯ Aesli, challenge ¡¯Black Wolf¡¯ Toltec to a duel!"


    Toltec nodded solemnly, sinking into a combat-ready stance. Shortly, the resounding drums of decisive battle struck up again!


    Amidst the thunderous battle drums, Toltec advanced a few steps and once again began the standoff with his adversary. Aesli lived up to the name ¡¯Graceful Deer.¡¯ He moved rapidly and with great speed. For a dozen breaths, neither could gain the upper hand in positioning. The confident Black Wolf didn¡¯t wait longer. He pressed forward with swift steps, closing within two paces of his foe, then delivered a powerful and abrupt overhead club swing for a short, blasting strike.


    "Bang!" Aesli took a step back, raising his shield with stability to receive the attack. He shifted again, his right-hand wielding the Copper Axe subtly, maintaining a strong deterrent stance. The fierce exchange was touch-and-go, and the adversary kept a steady defense without revealing any openings. Toltec was forced to widen the gap, re-engaging with Aesli.


    Such exchanges continued to unfold. The duel lasted an astonishing three to four minutes before Toltec finally seized an opportunity, slicing Aesli¡¯s left leg and then cutting the right arm. Finally, he advanced a step, swung down fiercely, knocking away the shield, and for the first time broke through his opponent¡¯s defense from the front, then counterattacked to slay Aesli!


    The Copper Axe in Aesli¡¯s hand slipped away powerlessly. Even in his dying moments, the stout Tarasco warrior had not really taken a swing.


    "Damn it! What ¡¯Graceful Deer¡¯ from Saka? More like a turtle from Lerma River!"


    Toltec¡¯s face flushed red, panting heavily. The intense movement and engagement had drained a great deal of his strength. After a while, he once again raised both arms, shouting in front of the two armies.


    "Under the protection of the War God! I, Black Wolf Toltec, have defeated my adversary!! No one from Tarasco can stand against me!!!"


    Upon hearing this, Su¡¯angua remained calm. He looked at his trusted aide, the Great General, once again.


    "How about now?"


    "His breathing is ragged, he¡¯s out of strength. Losing caution, succumbing to arrogance. Your Majesty, I shall kill this man!"


    Yuku¡¯s affirmation was certain and final. Su¡¯angua smiled and nodded. The statue-like warrior held a sleek Copper Spear in hand, with a sharp Copper Axe at his waist, and with remarkably accurate steps, he marched out of the ranks.


    "The brave warrior Qinchongcan, ¡¯Hound¡¯ Yuku, challenges ¡¯Black Wolf¡¯ Toltec to a duel!"


    Yuku, stony-faced, called out the challenge briefly and calmly, his eyes alone blazing with fiery combativeness.


    Toltec paused, slightly taken aback. This was the middle-aged warrior from the King¡¯s side; he had just been watching him carefully. Then, a similarly intense will to fight flared in his eyes. Once more, their gaze locked, and even the air began to heat up between them. Black Wolf took a deep breath and once again assumed a fighting stance.

 Chapter 431 - 215: To the Master - Part 3

    At that moment, a sharp conch horn suddenly sounded from beneath the Black Wolf¡¯s banner. Following that, Head Warrior Bertade hurried out of formation, grabbing hold of the Toltec who awaited battle.


    "His Highness orders, Toltec to return to the ranks! Surrender the chance of a duel to another brave warrior!"


    Toltec struggled unwillingly in the grip of the Head Warrior. He turned his head forcefully, looking towards the small hill nearby. Beneath the fluttering flag, His Highness nodded affirmatively with a solemn expression. Only then did Black Wolf lower his head, not looking at the surely mocking Hound opposite him, and dejectedly returned to the ranks.


    Yuku, however, did not reveal a smile. His expressionless face watched as his intended prey departed, then he closed his eyes slightly, motionless, waiting for a new hunting target.


    Before long, a towering Mexica warrior stepped out of formation. He held his head high, proudly shouting towards the front.


    "Guardian of the War God! I, the warrior from the land of Tollocan, heir to the honorable nobility, the valiant ¡¯Black Panther¡¯ Yomak, challenge the ¡¯Hound¡¯ Yuku of Tarasco! Remember, the one who will slay you is Yomak!"


    Yuku slowly opened his eyes, taking a careful look at the opponent¡¯s exceptionally tall stature and the calves that his shield could not cover. He nodded slowly, set down his shield, and clasped the nearly two-meter-long Copper Spear with both hands, pointing it diagonally forward. Relaxing his left hand forward while firmly gripping with his right hand in the back, he spread his legs, bending them slightly, and stood waiting silently.


    The thunderous war drums sounded once more. Yomak raised his shield, gripping his War Club, and took several large steps forward. His eyes were tightly fixed on Yuku, but he saw no sign of movement from his opponent, as if facing a frozen sculpture. The burly warrior continued to advance, leaving deep impressions in the earth beneath him. He was confident in his tremendous strength, unmatched within his homeland of Tollocan.


    Soon, the two were only five steps apart. Yomak thrust the shield in his left hand forward and furiously swung the War Club in his right, pouncing towards his shield-less enemy in front!


    In that lightning-fast moment, Yuku finally struck! A glint in his eyes, he stepped diagonally with a loose left hand pushing down, and a firm right hand lifting up. Then, with a mighty forward push from his right hand, striking against his partially relaxed left, his hands met in a precise and savage thrust!


    The gleaming spearhead traced a suddenly intense arc, "Phut!" it plunged into Yomak¡¯s calf. The advancing opponent¡¯s burly figure suddenly stumbled, his hand on the shield instinctively pressing downwards. "Screech!" The Copper Spear swiftly retracted alongside the shield, emitting a grating sound. Then came another "Phut!"


    A slight smile finally appeared on Yuku¡¯s statue-like face. "Thud!" He kicked on his opponent¡¯s shield, and with the rebounding force, pulled back the sharp spear from the enemy¡¯s body. Shield and War Club fell with a clatter, and the burly Yomak fell backward like a fragile Maya reed toy, facing upwards. He struggled to lift his arms, pressing on the bleeding neck, with bright red blood bubbling out from the large hole above his collarbone. Soon, endless darkness emerged from the blood, mercilessly engulfing him.


    Yuku planted the Copper Spear on the ground, turned around, and bowed respectfully to the King. After that, he calmly raised his arms, declaring victory to the Mexica ranks. Cheers finally arose from the Tarasco ranks, accompanied by the excited shouting of the warriors. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yuku! Yuku! The Hound bestowed by the Three Gods, capturing the tigers and panthers of the Mexica people!"


    Underneath the Wolf Banner, Xiulote¡¯s eyes widened as he recalled the movement of the Tarasco warrior¡¯s spear, but he was unable to remember it clearly. The young commander looked grave. He heard the enemy¡¯s shouting, bit his lip slightly, and waved the small flag again.


    This time, a formidable Jaguar Warrior stepped out of the formation. Dressed in a vibrant tiger-skin armor and wearing a drooping Feather Crown, he roared fiercely at the enemy before him.


    "Guardian of the War God! I, the warrior from Tenochtitlan, ¡¯War Tiger¡¯ Ixca, challenge the ¡¯Hound¡¯ Yuku of Tarasco!"


    Seeing the attire of the Jaguar Warrior, Yuku¡¯s face became serious. He gripped his Spear tightly and bowed his head in respect. The intense war drums began again, and the fight for life and death continued!


    Ixca used only the balls of his feet to touch the ground, maintaining a tiger-like agility in his movements. He moved quickly in short steps, wary of Yuku¡¯s swift and accurate Spear, keeping to the maximum extent of flexibility.


    This time, "Hound" Yuku also began to move. His steps were precise, his sense of distance flawlessly accurate. After a few exchanges of testing blows, he would always dodge the enemy¡¯s attacks at just the right moment. Leveraging the length of the Copper Spear, he moved like a striking serpent, launching attacks repeatedly at Ixca¡¯s vulnerabilities.


    "Bang, bang!" The Jaguar Warrior¡¯s shield was firm and solid. Ixca used the shield to block, deflected with side turns, not a single superfluous move, successfully defending against every attack. He came close to his adversary several times, swinging his War Club violently towards Yuku¡¯s vital points!


    However, Yuku, agile as a hunting dog, moved lightly on his feet, avoiding attacks with utmost precision. Sometimes he would split his hands, use the thick shaft of the spear to deflect the War Club, and counter-attack swiftly! The two continued their duel like jumping tigers, each concise movement filled with endless lethality!


    Xiulote stood on high ground, carefully watching the exciting combat, his eyes shining with appreciation.


    This Tarasco warrior¡¯s use of the spear already bore the rudiments of the Spear Technique of the Celestial Empire. With the evolution of armor, Spear infantry would come to dominate the ranks of the armies in the Middle Ages. This spear technique, with some simplification and improvement, would be suitable for widespread introduction in the military.

 Chapter 432 - Two Hundred and Fifteen: Homage to the Master Part 4

    A moment later, Ixca suddenly roared in anger. He forcefully threw his left shield, swiftly grabbed the spear thrust by his opponent with his left arm. Then, the Jaguar Warrior stepped forward, raising his war club with his right hand, ready to deliver a mortal blow to his disarmed enemy!


    Just then, Yuku revealed a sinister smile on his indifferent face. He suddenly loosened his grip on the spear with both hands, swung a punch with his left hand, hitting the opponent¡¯s shoulder that held the club, slowing down the swing. Almost simultaneously, his right hand swiftly drew the bronze axe from his waist, a short, sharp chop that directly cut into his opponent¡¯s neck!


    "Hiss!" Blood spurted, splashing both their faces. Ixca¡¯s pupils dilated suddenly, and pain caused his entire body to convulse. A cold mercy flashed in Yuku¡¯s eyes. He delivered another fierce chop, and a fine head dropped to the ground as if it were real, a bright spray of blood dazzlingly burst forth, bringing eternal liberation!


    The situation in the field changed instantly, Xiulote widened his eyes in surprise. He watched as Yuku stepped back, wiped the blood from his face, bowed to the King, and then raised his arms again. Tarasco warriors erupted in fervent cheers, while Mexica warriors remained silently solemn.


    "What a peerless warrior!"


    A moment later, Xiulote came to his senses, whispering in admiration. He had been watching the King of Tarasco and realized that this was a truly formidable warrior when he saw him step away from the King¡¯s side. The young Commander hastily ordered his weary favorite to be called back.


    "How so?"


    Xiulote looked calm, turning to Toltec. Black Wolf, who had been clamoring to continue the battle, was now silent, his eyes brightening with fighting spirit as he watched Yuku raising his arms in the field.


    "How so?" sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote turned to Bertade. The Head Warrior gripped his war club and replied in a deep voice.


    "Not weaker than me, a battle worth fighting. If no bow and arrow is used, there¡¯s only a sixty percent chance."


    Hearing this, Xiulote shook his head. He was somewhat stumped; if even the Head Warrior felt it was tough, sending others to fight would surely be fatal.


    As the young Commander pondered, a Mexica Scout rushed from the north. Waving a flag that denoted urgency, he unimpededly made his way through the Personal Guard Warriors until he collapsed before the prince.


    "Your Highness! More than ten miles north, Tarasco reinforcements have appeared! The enemy numbers over two thousand, all clad in warrior armor, bearing the Hummingbird flag from Qinchongcan City, the Capital!"


    "What? Over two thousand, more than ten miles away?!"


    Xiulote clenched his fists, demanding loudly.


    "Are you sure it¡¯s reinforcement from Qinchongcan City? The City-State Legion responsible for guarding the Capital, has there been any communication by envoy?"


    "The scout confirmed it¡¯s Qinchongcan¡¯s banner! No communication from the City-State Legion yet!"


    "Damn! These blind moles, incapable of holding a responsibility, ruining my plans!"


    The young Commander cursed under his breath, then immediately composed himself, solemnly commanding his generals.


    "Toltec!"


    "Present!"


    "I give you two thousand longbow militia, five hundred elite scouts, to stop the northern enemy! Before I defeat Su¡¯angua, do not allow any enemy troops to move south! Can you do it?!"


    "Yes! I will serve Your Highness to the death, defeating the enemy before us!!"


    Toltec was spirited. He knelt on one knee, raising his hand to pledge.


    "Good!"


    Then, Xiulote raised his right hand, looked around at his generals, and shouted again.


    "All generals, heed my command! No need to wait, break through the Tarasco royal army, the decisive battle is now! Sound the big drum, blow the bamboo flute, wave the battle flags! Holy City Legion, Spear Legion, Divine Blessing Legion, Temple Guards, Longbow Personal Guards, Jaguar Warrior Brigade, all forces, attack!!!"

 Chapter 433 - 216: The King’s War – Part 1

    The gusty winds whipped fiercely, scattering the clouds above the sky. The sun blazed intensely, overlooking the fields of men below. In the vastness of heaven and earth, the grand legion marched onto the battlefield, becoming the cold chess pieces in the hands of the Commander; the fervent beating of the war drums, the fearless Samurai sang out with vigor, turning into a chapter of fervent bloodshed within the pages of epic history!


    Amidst the war drums and shouts, Xiulote ascended the lofty command platform, authoritatively waving the command flag in his hand.


    The vast Mexica legion sprang into action instantaneously, spreading like a deluge toward both flanks, then swiftly regrouping under different Commander¡¯s Flags. When two armies contend, each must exploit strengths and avoid weaknesses! Since the Northern Army had the advantage in numbers, it had to extend the battle line as much as possible, increase the width of frontal engagement, and envelop the enemy forces from both wings.


    In just a moment, tens of thousands of Mexica Samurai, like a long serpent formation, coalesced into four formidable military arrays. The central army consisted of seven thousand long-spear Militia, divided into left and right formations. These battle-hardened spearmen were organized into units of two hundred and battalions of a thousand. The left formation was slightly thicker, led by the monkey Kuluka who commanded four battalions; the right formation was slightly less, with three battalions under the miner Ezpan. Under the sharp command of the Bone Whistle, the spearmen stood shoulder to shoulder, stacking their spears into staggered layers. Then, under the guidance of their squad leaders, one spear formation after another, like metallic hedgehogs, moved forward slowly yet resolutely.


    Xiulote watched the powerful central army becoming neatly organized like a hedgehog, and nodded slightly. In the battle of the Takuro Plains, the long-spear Militia had defeated the formidable Samurai formations head-on, killing thousands of elite Samurai. The mentality of the Militia had undergone a transformation, finally growing into a reliable central legion. True elite soldiers come from the fire of life and death! At this moment, looking from the command platform, the rhythm of the long-spear legion was methodical, their steps steady, already showing an air of elite soldiers.


    With strong forces in hand, a grand sentiment naturally reverberated in his chest! The Young Commander looked all around, ordering the central army to thrust forward, with seven thousand long spears arrayed ahead; the wings to cover, with six thousand Samurai arrayed for a combined strike!


    The left wing was the loyal Holy City Legion. Three thousand Holy City Samurai held shields and clubs, lowly growling like a pack of wolves under the leadership of the Jaguar Olosh. These hometown warriors, who had followed for generations and were always well-treated, were willing to fight to the death for their commander. The right wing was the devout Religious Legion, formed by the remaining Temple Guards and blessed warriors. The veteran Etalik blew the sharp Death Whistle, while Natali chanted the praises of the Chief Divine. The Religious Legion stood grim and solemn. Whether they were Mexica Samurai or Otomi Warriors, all clutched the Sun Amulet around their necks, praying wholeheartedly to the supreme Chief Divine. Faced with the Royal Army of the foreign god, they were filled with a sacred fervor for battle, and would show no mercy!


    The rapidity of the war drums surged with a murderous intent. The four armies in the vanguard maintained a steady pace, advancing toward the likewise unfolded Tarasco Royal Army. Behind them were three thousand archer Legion. These long-range warriors, armed with Longbows and Powerful Crossbows, accompanied by quivers of Arrows, moved in tandem with the vanguard. A new batch of Arrows from the Lake Capital City had been fully replenished, and the warriors were free to shoot. As the two Legions drew near to each other, the Crossbowmen formed ranks in succession. They drew bows and cocked crossbows, ready to let loose a deadly rain of arrows at any moment.


    Then, the first to strike like a thunderbolt, were not the awaiting Crossbowmen. "Boom! Boom!", two fierce thunderclaps suddenly exploded, as if the wrath of the God of Thunder had descended upon the land!


    In the gaps of the central army, two ready-filled wooden cannons were swiftly fixed into position and immediately fired! At a distance of no more than a hundred paces, the scattered stone shards carried an unstoppable Force, striking the disciplined spear formation of Tarasco¡¯s central army with tremendous power.


    Dozens of elite spearmen suddenly let out piercing, wretched screams. They were drenched in dense sprays of Blood from their wounds, rolling on the ground in agony. The fragmented canister shots flew in all directions, with scores of nearby Militia wounded by the stone shards, running in fear and clutching their heads. Within the rising dust, thousands of arrayed Militia looked around in bewilderment. They fell into an unknown terror, bowing down in fear, praying for forgiveness from the divinities ahead.


    The roar of the beast terrorized mortals! Centering on the impact point of the cannonade, the ranks of three thousand Tarasco spearmen bubbled like boiling Water, causing chaotic ripples to spread. The actual casualties of the two cannon volleys were only a dozen or so men, but the fear spread by a hundredfold!


    Under the inherited Eagle Banner, King Su¡¯angua suddenly widened his eyes, gripping the Divine Staff tightly in his hand. He had already heard of the Mexica¡¯s new weapons through confidential letters from the chief advisor, and had also encountered exploding Clay Tribulus during the battle in the High Mountain Fortress.


    But at this moment, no matter how steadfast his will, no matter how much he prepared his troops, when he first truly encountered such a deafening roar like the God of Thunder¡¯s wooden beasts on the open field, King Su¡¯angua¡¯s heart was still profoundly shaken, and his Militia¡¯s morale was still wavering! Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Though the flanks of the long-spear square were weak, the front was exceedingly strong. Su¡¯angua placed three thousand long-spear Militia in the central army, with two and a half thousand Royal Warriors unfolded on each wing. The core of two thousand Copper-axe Guards, armed with Longbows, arrayed behind the central army. Facing the offensive of the Mexica legion, the elite Taracos Royal Army made their stand, erecting Copper Spears and presenting a solid defensive formation. However, under the bombardment of the wooden cannons, the sturdiest central defense seemed to crumble in an instant!


    Su¡¯angua gritted his teeth fiercely. This was a bad start, and an ominous premonition rose in his mind. He drew out a red flag that had been prepared in advance and pointed it to the left and right toward the direction of the wooden cannons. The piercing sound of the Bamboo Flute was blown immediately. Two thousand Copper-axe Guards simultaneously stepped forward, drawing large Longbows, and releasing a sky-full of deathly howls toward the enemy¡¯s vanguard!

 Chapter 434 - 216 The King’s War Part 2

    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" Black arrows blotted out the sky, with metal tips glinting coldly. The Copper-axe Guards released their lavish copper arrows, which whistled as they plunged into the Mexica¡¯s center army. Even behind the protection of wooden shields, over a dozen gunners were killed instantly, while more than a hundred militia pierced through their paper armor, fell to the ground with blood-curdling screams.


    The surviving gunners hastily dragged the wooden cannons towards the rear. They had completed their most important mission. The first-generation Teotl wooden cannons, loaded with stone grapeshot, had a range of just over one hundred steps¡ªnot even as far as the longbow¡ªand took nearly a quarter hour to reload. With the initial surprise over and facing a prepared enemy, the next step was to reload the wooden cannons and look for another prime opportunity.


    Longbow copper arrows, close-range shooting. The Mexica legion with long spears faced such fierce ranged attacks for the first time; their steady rhythm become chaotic, and their forward march hesitated slightly.


    The central army¡¯s Commander-in-Chief, Kuluka, and Ezpan remained composed, each shaking their command flags, directing the spear formation squads in the camp. Seeing the signals on the flags, the Warrior Captain Guzman desperately blew his bone whistle around his neck, shouting loudly, re-coordinating the footsteps of his troops. Under the captain¡¯s orders, the front five ranks of spearmen raised rattan shields, covering the sky overhead. The remaining spearmen bowed their heads, hiding their faces beneath rattan helmets. They almost surrendered all vision and any superfluous emotions. At this moment, harsh military discipline fused into their bodies, long-term training became instinct. They were simply ruthless war machines, following the steps of their comrades, continuing their relentless charge forward!


    Atop the command post, Xiulote abruptly lowered the command flag! The shooting flutes shattered the sky, and the three thousand-strong archery legion paused briefly, followed by a thunderous hum.


    Thousands of feathered arrows crossed the sky, with a slanting arc, like lightning spreading, "thud, thud," they pierced into the enemy¡¯s central army. The Tarasco militia with long spears were amid chaos, defenseless against the pouring rain of arrows, and in an instant, over two hundred men were killed, their blood splashing as they tumbled down. The front-line Warrior Captain was struck by an arrow and died, further intensifying the militia¡¯s chaos!


    Su¡¯angua looked ahead, observing the beginning disarray in his own central army and the enemy spearmen who were quickly closing in, and he deeply furrowed his brow. He waved the red flag once more and then drew out the black flag symbolizing death, pointing it towards the central army up ahead.


    The two thousand Copper-axe Guards once again released a fierce volley of arrows, slowing the Mexica central army¡¯s advance. Then the front row of two hundred Copper-axe Guards solemnly broke formation. They switched to great shields and copper axes, sprinting into the midst of the militia with long spears. As per daily training, one hundred guards raised their great shields, protecting the camp captains at various levels. They yelled and kicked at the panicked militia, regaining control of the spear formation. The other one hundred guards showed no mercy, seizing fleeing soldiers who broke through the ranks, pinning them to the ground, and with a swift axe stroke, heads rolled in an instant.


    Following this, under the King¡¯s stern orders, the accompanying priests moved to the forefront. They danced wildly, chanting and singing, calling upon the divine power bestowed by the three gods to suppress the evil Mexica beast. Amidst the high-pitched chants of the priests, the front-line militia with long spears finally managed to regain some morale and tightly gripped their weapons to face the inevitable fate.


    Relentless arrow volleys crossed once again, the pouring bodies spilling hot blood. Amidst the earth-shaking shouts, the Mexica legion¡¯s charge arrived in an instant! The Camp Captain Guzman urgently blew his bone whistle, and the two hundred-strong spear formation suddenly accelerated. Under the push of the entire squad, the foremost five ranks of spears shone with a chilling cold light, accelerating forwards in layers, then abruptly stopped, penetrating the equally cold five ranks of spears!


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze sharpened slightly. For a moment, he seemed to hear a dull collision. In the Young Commander¡¯s eyes, the spear formations of both armies crashed violently, and a glaring red line burst forth at the front! The front rank of spear warriors on both sides fell like mowed down cornstalks, uniformly pierced by several spears, and toppled sideways one after another. Whether clad in War Clothes or paper armor, they were all so fragile in that moment of clash!


    Many militia were impaled on spears yet did not die quickly. Their shrill screams overshadowed the battle drums, becoming the most vivid notes on the battlefield. The spear formation of the opposing sides turned ruthlessly, the rear ranks of spearmen thrust their spears repeatedly into the enemies before them, and the screams quickly faded. Soon, the second rank became the frontline, gripping their spears tightly, thrusting forwards. The following ranks held their spears high, stabbing diagonally downwards, while under the pressing force from behind, they desperately pushed forward.


    From afar, the hedgehog-like formations pressed against each other, the forest of spears collided and waved. After losing their momentum, the contest between the spear formations came down to strength and discipline. The killing swiftly diminished, while the shoving gradually intensified. The Mexica spear formation, with a clear numerical advantage, gradually surrounded from both sides but could not break through for the moment. The warriors on both sides held on like tug-of-war, until one side could no longer withstand the pressure, and their formation scattered. That would signal one-sided slaughter!


    The arrows rained down from above once more, this time descending on the loosely formed flanks; hundreds of warriors from both armies were struck in succession, falling dead one after another. The rain of arrows passed like a long wind, laying down warriors like Luwei reeds. But after the storm, the tough Luwei rose stoutly once again! Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Holy City¡¯s warriors on the left wing swung their shields, howling as they rushed into the Kingdom¡¯s Warrior lines. In that moment, copper spears collided with war clubs, wooden shields clashed with leather shields, roars and shouts fused together, drifting over the solemn wilderness!

 Chapter 435 - 216 The King’s War Part 3

    Olosh led the most elite hundred Jaguar warriors of the Holy City, personally as the spearhead, charging into the front line of the battle. He swung his war club with agility and strength, like a sprinting tiger or panther, suddenly breaking into a troop of copper spear warriors who had not had time to form their ranks. The formidable Jaguars powerfully chopped downward, felling the feathered helmet-wearing captain at the lead, even denting his copper helmet. Following that, he swept sideways in quick succession and took down three more men in an instant. The Jaguar warriors behind him pounced forward, and amidst their roaring growls, their war clubs struck in rapid succession, smashing dozens of enemy soldiers to the ground.


    Olosh paused briefly. He gasped for air, looking around, and couldn¡¯t help but furrow his brows deeply. Although the Jaguar warriors serving as the spearhead were unparalleled in strength, the main force of warriors couldn¡¯t break through with them. The expressions of the Tarasco warriors before him were calm, and their formations were neat. They arranged themselves into regiments of eight hundred and companies of two hundred, each forming their spear formations, supplemented with war clubs and bronze axes. The company leaders wore copper feathered helmets and carried vibrant small banners on their backs, commanding the troops in an orderly fashion, firmly holding the main forces of the Holy City outside the spear formation. And when faced with the charge of the Jaguar warriors, the Tarasco people scattered without falling into disarray, one troop retreating to regroup while another would neatly advance. They were like fish in a lake, constantly interchanging and shifting, leaving no discernible end in sight.


    "Dammit!" he punched out fiercely, but it was like hitting flowing sand. "Such a tough nut to crack, truly the most elite Royal Army of Tarasco!"


    Olosh cursed under his breath. He stared at the enemy forces that began to encircle them from both sides, shooting them a fierce glare. Then, without any hesitation, the Jaguar led his elite squadron, turning around to kill their way back into the ranks of the Holy City¡¯s army. Since they couldn¡¯t break through quickly, they had to reorganize their forces, form shield walls, and engage the enemy with steady and forceful entanglement.


    The Religious Legion on the right flank swung their war clubs, however, it was a different kind of desperate ferocity! Once the fanatical Religious Knights were committed to war, they were like moths to a flame, imbued with an insatiable will to fight to the death!


    As soon as the warrior of the two armies met, they skipped the preliminary probing and maintaining distance, entering into brutal hand-to-hand combat. Facing the Tarasco spear formation squads, the zealous Otomi warriors threw their war clubs and, with shields only big enough to cover half their bodies, launched a mortal charge! These converted warriors shouted the name of the Chief Divine as they rushed toward the dense copper spears, suffering cruel deaths within the spear formations. They used their own flesh and bone to lock the enemy¡¯s weapons, just to break the tight spear walls!


    And as soon as the spear formations hesitated, exposing a flaw, a large group of Religious Knights would rush forward, engaging in close-quarters combat with the Tarasco people. The Temple Guards blew a piercing whistle, the zeal of battle boiling over as they bellowed fiercely. They scarcely defended themselves, wielding extra-long Maquahuitl Longstaffs in both hands, breaking through the enemy¡¯s copper spears, slicing through the enemy¡¯s leather armor, and then cutting into the enemy¡¯s flesh! As they charged at the enemy formation, they would quickly fall in battle or, along with one or several enemies, ascend to the Divine Kingdom in the heavens within moments!


    Xiulote gazed down upon the grand scene of battle, his expression solemn and grave. The left flank and the center army still maintained clear divisions, holding shields in opposition; however, the warriors on the right flank were already entangled with each other, indistinguishable from one another. Sprays of blood bloomed on the right, only to be drowned by the noisy dust. The warriors from both sides melted away like early spring snow, with a sixth of them gone in less than a quarter of an hour! sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Young Commander took a deep breath, his eyes revealing an unfeeling determination. He waved the red banner once more, and five hundred stirrup crossbowmen advanced together, stopping just behind the front lines of the battle. A sharp whistle blew, and over a hundred paces away, the crossbowmen suddenly brought up their large crossbows. They took brief aim at the Tarasco Eagle Banner and the King beneath it, and with a look upward, they struck!

 Chapter 436 - 217: The King’s War – Middle

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    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" Slender shadows rose en masse, like the shadow of the God of Death, suddenly flying far off. The metallic Copper Arrows cut through the sky, carrying a deadly screech, converging towards the Tarasco¡¯s Royal Banner!


    Watching the incoming swarm of black dots, Su¡¯angua under the Royal Banner clenched the Divine Staff, his pupils sharply constricting. In this critical moment, all he managed was to lower his head and bow his body before the sharp Arrows met him!


    "Pfft, pfft, ah, ugh!..."


    Anguished cries of the dying continuously rang out beside the King, those he had always trusted, along with a dozen or so Imperial Guards by his side. The sharp Copper Arrows penetrated the Samurai¡¯s Leather Armor, deeply embedding into their chests and bellies, warm blood immediately spilling from the wounds. However, those same Copper Arrows that fell upon the King only produced a "thud, thud" upon impact.


    The low sound of metal collision echoed within the Bronze Armor, the continuous impact force forcing the King to step back. Caught in the ambush of the Powerful Crossbow, Su¡¯angua¡¯s head was reeling, his body staggeringly unstable. This wave of Copper Arrows came suddenly and fiercely. Like the rapid patter of a sudden downpour, they came with the wind, disappeared in an instant, carrying with them a dozen lives, and deeply embedded in the mud surrounding the Royal Banner.


    Su¡¯angua bit his lower lip fiercely, shaking his head hard. He subconsciously released his hands, feeling around his head and body, only to touch a stretch of solid coldness. The young King then realized that he was still wearing an extraordinary set of Armor.


    The surrounding Imperial Guards immediately converged. Dozens of Samurai raised their Great Shields, shielding the King at the first instance. The second wave of Fletched Arrows whistled through the air, deeply embedding into the thick Wooden Shields, producing a dull "thud thud". Su¡¯angua, still shaken, had come this close to death for the first time in his past twenty or thirty years!


    The young King gazed blankly, looking at his empty hands, and inquired instinctively.


    "What is this?!"


    Great General Yuku bent down, carefully picking up the fallen Divine Staff from the bushes, and respectfully presented it to the King. He then shielded the King with a Rattan Shield, squinting his eyes to observe the Crossbowmen in the distance before replying confidently to the King.


    "Your Majesty, it¡¯s the Crossbowmen of Mexica ambushing us. They hold a type of horizontal Greatbow which has both a greater range and power than Longbows!" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Su¡¯angua¡¯s eyes blazed with anger, sweeping a glance over his faithful followers collapsed on the ground. They had just reported the good news from the north, informing of the arrival of reinforcements before being shot dead in front of him. Beside their glaring corpses, the inherited Eagle Banner still fluttered, but the soaring eagle had lost its wings. The Banner now bore a dozen holes from the Arrows, mercilessly piercing through Tarasco¡¯s eagle!


    A pain struck the King¡¯s heart, and an ominous premonition once again surged. He kept a grim face, ignoring the sight of those dead guards, and spoke sternly.


    "Yuku, my hound. Command of the Copper-Axe Guards is temporarily yours, strike those with the horizontal bows! The killing power of their Arrows is greater, we can¡¯t allow them to shoot at will!"


    "Understood!"


    Yuku bowed his head in acknowledgment, without unnecessary words. His face was as if carved from stone, he closed his left eye, extended his right arm, and swiftly gestured twice to estimate the distance of the Crossbowmen. Then he summoned the captains of various guard units, whispering instructions. The Copper-Axe Guards in Formation quickly dispersed, splitting into two groups of two hundred Archers each.


    Arrows rained down, Fletched Arrows and Copper Arrows assailing once more. Two squads huddled by the King¡¯s side, raising their Great Shields in defense, while the other Imperial Guards briskly advanced beyond the central army.


    Yuku, bending slightly, led two hundred of the finest archers himself to the edge of the frontline. Ignoring the nearby spears clashing and cries of battle, he calmly took out his Longbow, drew it fully, nocked an Arrow, and with a mere aim, the Arrow flew swiftly towards its target!


    A Mexica Crossbowman who was bent over reloading suddenly felt a pain in his chest, seeing half of an arrow shaft protruding. The sharp Copper Arrow had pierced him from the front, bringing his weakening body crashing down onto the ground with a "thud". His Greatbow quietly scattered on the ground as blood gushed violently from his wound. The Crossbowman futilely pressed on the wound on his chest, looking at the increasingly dark sky, finally understanding that his destiny was to become one with the earth.


    The hound Yuku showed no emotion, squinting fiercely, releasing Arrow after Arrow. The surrounding Divine Archers pulled together, and several Mexica Crossbowmen fell dead. Such sharp shooting soon drew attention. In a moment, Yuku¡¯s eyes narrowed, and he suddenly threw himself to the side. Dozens of Fletched Arrows descended with the whistle of death all around his previous position. Several Tarasco Divine Archers, with no chance of escape, were struck down!


    As the rain of Arrows fell to the ground, Yuku rolled up from the ground, waving his hand, and the Archers spread out to both sides, continuing the exchange with the Mexica men. The piercing sound of a Bone Whistle echoed from under the Black Wolf¡¯s banner in the distance. When he again raised his Greatbow, the elite Crossbowmen had already retreated, distancing themselves from the Royal Banner.


    Yuku shifted his aim and effortlessly shot a Militia carrying a Spear. The densely packed Spear Formation was advancing through gaps in the formation not far in front of him. Yuku¡¯s eyes turned cold, sweeping over like a wolf, soon focusing on a Spear Captain issuing commands.


    At the forefront, the Spear Captain had the best view. They were only about a quarter distance apart, and with a half-bow shot by Yuku, the young Spear Captain was struck down. Temporarily halted, the Mexica Spear Formation lost its command. A deputy captain on another front immediately blew the Bone Whistle to take command. Yuku furrowed his brow and released another fierce Fletched Arrow. The sharp sound of the Bone Whistle was cut off halfway as it helplessly fell into the mud. With the deputy captain dead, a War Priest in the center of the small unit took command, blowing a new round with the Bone Whistle. The Priest¡¯s position was at the heavily guarded center, surrounded by raised Rattan Shields. Yuku¡¯s eyebrows tightened, aiming for a while, and before he could shoot, a whistling rain of Arrows poured from the sky!


    ```

 Chapter 437 - 217 The King’s War Part 2

    Thousands of Mexica archers advanced to the front line and began firing rapidly and fiercely. The spear-wielding militia of Tarasco kept falling, even the Copper-Axe Guards holding shields were continually dying. The fierce offensive surged like waves, focusing on the most disadvantaged central path.


    Yuku sighed, once again shooting down a militiaman in the front line casually. Then, he gestured for the guards to disperse and shook the yellow flag for free firing. Only then did the peerless warrior calm down, joining the Divine Archers by his side in mutually suppressing the Mexica archers, patiently trading shots.


    The Tarasco guards were slightly outnumbered, but each was highly skilled in martial arts, wearing copper helmets and shoulder armor. They spared no expense in using armor-piercing copper arrows, shooting through the gaps between small formations and fighting an equal battle with the more numerous archery legion.


    The front lines brandished copper spears and war clubs while the rear alternated between copper arrows and bone arrows. Death rolled in with the long wind, descending upon every corner of the battlefield! Close-range shooting was especially difficult to defend against and thus particularly brutal. However, after two rounds, each side had suffered over a hundred bowmen killed.


    Xiulote silently observed the casualties from the shooting, and he nodded heavily and affirmatively. The battle groups participating in the shooting were composed of the Royal Family¡¯s Longbow Warriors and his own Longbow trusted aides. Although they were combat-savvy, they were slightly less elite than the Copper-Axe Guards. These formidable guards were efficient at both long and close range, and currently, using this method of attrition, the Mexica legion had the advantage!


    The three armies killed each other, dying together back and forth. The vast battlefield boiled and overflowed with noise, and the fierce killing reached a climax!


    In this king¡¯s war, the elite warriors and militia, like roasted pine nuts, crackled loudly and then cracked open and fell in batches; while the noble aristocracy and officials, like fragile tomatoes, fell under the blade and the rain of arrows, splattering blood in groups. Boiling waves of sound filled everyone¡¯s ears, and vibrant red colors emerged before everyone¡¯s eyes, until two thundering sounds of "thunderbolt" exploded again in the warriors¡¯ hearts!


    "Boom, boom!" The long-silent two wooden cannons were finally loaded and moved to the fiercely contested left wing. Operated by craftsmen, the wooden cannons fired from the outskirts of the formation, shooting obliquely into the rear of the Royal Army warriors! A dozen Tarasco warriors toppled over, rolling on the ground in agony. The enemy on the left wing suddenly slowed, and their morale sharply decreased, causing the neatly operating squads to suddenly halt.


    In the midst of the fierce battle, Olosh¡¯s eyes brightened. He seized this rare opportunity, once again leading hundreds of Holy City Jaguar warriors into the enemy¡¯s formation. A group of two hundred men were suddenly dispersed, and the squad replacing them was still in brief chaos. The Holy City warriors surged forward, turning two hundred Tarasco warriors into fallen bodies, thus gaining the upper hand in the battle!


    Under the fierce charge of the Mexica legion, the remaining two thousand Tarasco warriors stepped back dozens of steps before grouping into several spear formations under the command of the Royal commander-in-chief, stubbornly blocking the advance of the Holy City warriors.


    Hearing the thunder sound again, the hawk-eyed Yuku narrowed his eyes. He turned towards the noise coming from the bombarded right wing of the Royal Army, made a quick judgment, then gestured for the divine archers to follow him. After that, the agile hunter bowed his body, swiftly moving towards the right wing. In just over a dozen breaths, the mysterious Mexica wooden cannon appeared again before him. The peerless warrior suddenly stood firm, pulled back his greatbow, and released a fierce shot!


    "Swoosh! Thud!" The arrow pierced into an eye socket, exiting through the back of the head. Behind the smoking wooden cannon, a canon-operating craftsman fell backward, dead on the spot. "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!" A barrage of feathered arrows swiftly followed, killing over a dozen cannoneers. Only then did the supervising warriors turn their shields to protect the right side of the craftsmen.


    Witnessing batch after batch dying before them, the cannon operators trembled all over, half-kneeling beside the wooden cannon. Most of them had been selected from craftsmen, entrusted with an important mission by His Highness, and had always enjoyed generous treatment. One young cannoneer couldn¡¯t bear the pressure of life and death anymore, suddenly stood up, and screamed as he ran to the rear.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" Another volley of feathered arrows swiftly struck, piercing through the bodies of the fleeing soldiers. The young gunner knelt on the ground, and with one last glance at the overseeing longbow-armed trusted aide, he slumped over, devoid of all life.


    On the King¡¯s battlefield, retreat meant death! The trusted aides looked indifferently at the dead bodies and, with solemn expressions, drew their longbows again. At that moment, they entrusted their fate to the Chief Divine and the divine archers opposite them, staking their only lives!


    With the cover provided by the archers, the two wooden cannons were finally dragged away by the gunners from the perilous frontline. The tense reloading began again. The gunners clenched their teeth and silently prayed to the Chief Divine for a safe return next time!


    Under the commander¡¯s flag of Black Wolf, Xiulote stood imposingly. He was like a Wolf King atop a mountain, controlling the vast battlefield beneath him!


    The battle was extremely fierce, and every minute of the fight saw hundreds of elite samurai fall dead! The Mexica legion held the overall advantage, and the thunderous cannon fire continued for two rounds. But the Tarasco royal army, tough as resilient leather, still maintained a stable defensive position. Although the enemy¡¯s morale continued to wane, it stubbornly did not collapse. The King of Tarasco stood firm behind the central army, with the battered banner held high. The royal eagle, though with broken wings, never once touched the ground!


    The Young Commander hesitated briefly. This battle had been all-in from the start, and he had already committed the vast majority of his pieces. At this moment, he had only the five hundred warriors of the Jaguar Warrior Brigade from the Capital City left in his hand, ready to be deployed anywhere on the frontline for a potentially fatal strike!


    Seeing the prince¡¯s hesitation, Bertade knew what was in his mind. With no one else around, he stepped forward and whispered his advice.


    "Your Highness, this is the King¡¯s war, and the safety of the King is supreme! The enemy¡¯s Imperial Guards still possess the strength to charge... Let the samurai battle in the front, and die for the glory of the King!"


    Xiulote slightly closed his eyes and nodded slowly. He gazed down at the blood-drenched earth below, where blood blossomed into flowers, flowers dyed into a red carpet, and the carpet concealed beneath corpses. In this splendid spring light, cold bodies were trampled into the soft soil, nourishing the wilderness with rich nutrients. The cries of battle shook the heavens, birds fled in the distance, and only the spring breeze remained, transforming into profound clouds. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Such fertile land. This year¡¯s spring plowing will certainly yield a good harvest!"


    The young king muttered softly to himself, an imperceptible transformation quietly occurring within him. Xiulote did not notice, simply casting his gaze towards the north. In the clear horizon, thousands of Tarasco samurai could be seen shouting and roaring, clashing with Toltec¡¯s forces. High above, the Hummingbird banner stood tall, facing the Eagle Banner of the south, yet seemingly separated by the greatest of distances!


    And in this moment, under the banner of the Hummingbird, an elderly samurai clad in leather armor, wielding a copper spear, silently stared into the distance at the black Wolf Banner, which haunted his nightmares countless times.

 Chapter 438 - 218: The King’s War - Part 2

    The long wind blew, the battle flag soared high, and the vivid hummingbird flew on the flag. It symbolized the reinforcements from the capital city, dancing in the air. The air carried the scent of blood from afar, and the wind was filled with fierce shouts. The sky was vast, the earth churned, the battle raged fiercely, and the killing filled the fields!


    The aged Samurai stood solemnly under the battle flag, gazing towards the fierce battle to the south.


    At the horizon¡¯s end were clusters of fierce skirmishes, while pale yellow dust continuously rose from the tangled formations. At that moment, tens of thousands of Samurai fought desperately, their small figures appearing and disappearing in the dust. They seemed to vanish into an illusory world, a demon¡¯s mouth spewing smoke, leading to the Land of the Dead deep underground!


    The old Samurai continued searching. Soon, the inherited Eagle Banner caught his eye. From his perspective, the Royal Banner stood between heaven and earth like the sacred cocoa tree, having inherited two hundred years of glory. It stood stubbornly and still, allowing the ants beneath it to fight, keeping alive all hope!


    Seeing this, the old Samurai sighed, silent and wordless. A warm breeze brushed over his new leather armor, bringing rapid calls; the slanting sunlight shone on his gleaming copper helmet, casting a long shadow. Time etched lines of sorrow on his face, leaving only his sparkling eyes.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!" A piercing barrage of arrows came again from the south. Seeing the shifting figures not far ahead, the old Samurai shivered abruptly. He quickly raised his shield and crouched swiftly, as the consecutive impacts "thud, thud" arrived. The surrounding recruits were hit by arrows one after another, screaming tragically as they struggled futilely on the ground. The area under the fluttering flag immediately cleared, leaving only dozens of old soldiers tightly holding their shields.


    "Roar, roar!" The Vanguard of the Tekos Militia roared furiously. They could no longer contain the anger in their hearts, unwilling to suffer attacks in vain. These mountain warriors took big strides forward, charging towards the scattered enemy squads. But the agile Longbow Hunters once more retreated, as hundreds of elite Scout Warriors formed up to meet them. The Samurai easily reaped their opponents¡¯ lives with their war clubs swinging.


    The war drums sounded, and hundreds of warriors with the Hummingbird insignia on their shields made their strike. The Mexica scouts immediately fell back, maintaining a stay-near-yet-far distance in scattered skirmishes. The Longbow Hunters quickly moved to the flanks, swiftly launching their hidden arrow attacks. More warriors of the capital city fell to the arrows. Among the Vanguard, over two hundred Tarasco Longbowmen also countered simultaneously. They shot down approaching enemies, pushing back the Mexica archers. The thousands of warriors from both sides thus tangled with each other, advancing and retreating, pausing and moving towards the south.


    Only then did the old Militia Chiwaco peek from behind his shield. He carefully surveyed the front, and seeing the threatening figures now pushed back, he cautiously stood. The group of old soldiers holding shields continued to move south, escorting the battle flag.


    The army formation advanced, leaving the recent battlefield behind. Chiwaco glanced at the severely wounded soldiers screaming on the ground, shaking his head helplessly. Then, he touched the sturdy copper helmet on his head and rubbed the solid leather armor on his body, sighing with relief.


    Three days ago, the Chief Minister of the Capital City organized an army to support the king; the Samurai squad to which the old Militia belonged was also conscripted. Under the strict military orders, he could only pick up his weapons, accompanied by his brothers in arms, to depart once again from the grand Capital City and join such a dangerous reinforcement force. Fortunately, before leaving, the Great Master of the Chief Minister was unusually generous for once, distributing brand-new Samurai equipment to every warrior. The craftsmen of the Capital worked day and night; the Capital¡¯s weapons and armor were plentiful, only the battle-ready Samurai were lacking.


    "Boom, boom!" Distant cannon sounds came, like the roar of the God of Thunder. Hearing this familiar explosive sound, the old Militia shivered again. He looked towards the southeast, several miles away, where the king¡¯s banner gradually became visible. The vast Mexica legion appeared like dense dark clouds, and the elite Tarasco Royal Army was like a faint crescent moon. Black clouds covering the moon, the Royal Army was being severely suppressed, clearly at a disadvantage.


    "Toot, toot!" Urgent trumpeting sounded. The Commander-in-Chief of the Hummingbird Family personally led the Vanguard, standing at the front line of combat. He waved the battle flag vigorously, and the warriors of the center army immediately followed up, joining the prepared strike formation. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Chiwaco blinked, continuing to hold his shield, guarding the fluttering flag. Beside him, a dozen shield-bearing warriors hesitated slightly before stepping forward. Chiwaco, quick and alert, "whooshed" his hand out, tightly grabbing a young Samurai. He suppressed the anger in his heart and cautiously scolded in a low voice.


    "Foolish log, what are you doing! The masters are upfront as firewood, burning noisily, bright and clear. We should just watch from behind... what excitement are you trying to join?!"


    The young Samurai, also clad in new armor and holding a sharp long spear, had a crooked headband tied outside his helmet, he was the former Militia Weizti. Tying a headband had been his habit for decades of village life. Although he now began to regard himself as a Samurai, it was hard for him to change overnight.


    "Uncle, I¡¯m now a respected Samurai master too!"


    Weizti lifted his head, puffing out his chest, with a stubborn face.


    "The King¡¯s banner is right ahead! That is the descendant of the gods, our last hope as Prepetcha people! I am now a Samurai master, and as long as I break through the Mexica line and rescue the king, I can be promoted to a great noble! And once a great noble, no one will have to suffer again! Perhaps, I can even find my wife and children..."

 Chapter 439 - 218: The King’s War - Part 3

    "Fart! What kind of master are you? You¡¯ve been a suffering peasant all your life!"


    Chiwaco¡¯s anger surged, and he violently reached out, slapping Weizti with a "smack". Then, the old militiaman quickly pulled the dazed Weizti to his side, lifted his arm to raise the shield, pretending to guard the flag.


    "Stupid, stupid! You blockhead, how can you be so stupid? The nobility make empty promises, and you let yourself be fooled? Haven¡¯t you taken a good look at what time it is now? Nobility, the nobility of the kingdom are useless!"


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!" The sound of the arrow rain came again. Chiwaco didn¡¯t bother to look up and hurriedly raised his shield, hunching over to block in front of Weizti. The anticipated impact didn¡¯t come. The old militiaman cautiously peeked out, and this time the concentrated volley was aimed at the vanguard.


    Bone arrows carrying the howl of the God of Death pierced through the samurais¡¯ leather armor. Several samurais died on the spot, and a dozen more were gravely wounded by stray arrows, writhing and rolling on the ground. As if to confirm the old militiaman¡¯s words from earlier, one wounded warrior loudly cried out his military nobility status. The commander-in-chief of the vanguard glanced at the wounds and then coldly waved his hand. With the urgency of military matters, two warriors directly grabbed the military nobility, taking him to the rear of the legion. Those of the Great Nobility with private armies looked on coldly, remaining silent.


    Weizti watched as the injured minor nobility was carried past him, hastily bandaged, and then left in the cold bushes. The fast-marching legion left behind no escort, leaving him to fend for himself. The tall bushes, like green graves, gradually swallowed the fading cries for help. At this place and time, once wounded, the outcome was sealed! Thinking of this, a chill rose sharply in Weizti¡¯s heart, and his face became expressionless.


    Chiwaco sighed. He looked at the blank expression on Weizti¡¯s face, his tone softened.


    "Blockhead, your wife was conscripted. What becomes of women conscripted from the villages? You¡¯ve seen it clearly these days. And in this cannibalistic world, what can become of your six- or seven-year-old child? They¡¯re already dead! Now, you only have me and Luwei."


    Having said this, the old militiaman pulled the blockhead to his side. Shoulder to shoulder, each holding a shield, they covered each other¡¯s flanks. The old militiaman spoke in a low voice audible only to them, word by word.


    "Blockhead, your wife and son are dead; my wife and son are dead too. You need to understand, who really killed them! The Mexica didn¡¯t take your conscripted wife, they didn¡¯t destroy our village. They died like peas in a pod; count one for the Mexica, one for the conscripting warriors, and the remaining two should be on that damned chief and this wretched king!"


    A fleeting ferocity flashed across Chiwaco¡¯s face. The successive great battles and upheavals finally honed a cold light in him. He took a deep breath and reached into his chest to search, wanting to sniff the sachet of herbs sewn by his wife one more time, but no matter how, he couldn¡¯t find it.


    The old militiaman paused, then suddenly remembered, he had left the small cloth pouch with Luwei. It was the only legacy her mother had left, something that could give little Luwei a sense of security. And he himself no longer needed the herbs, to stay calm in warfare.


    Chiwaco sighed once more.


    "Stupid blockhead, stick with me. We still have to survive. Don¡¯t think about saving the king, save yourself first!"


    Weizti nodded, then lowered his head, no longer speaking, like a frostbitten pumpkin. The two remained silent, guarding the banner of the Hummingbird, following the legion as it continued southward. The closer they got to the frontline of battle, the closer to the king¡¯s banner, the more vicious the Mexica¡¯s attacks became, and the fighting between the two armies grew even more brutal.


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!" The arrow rain continued without pause. Mexica militiamen began to disregard casualties, closing in on the army formations, and desperately exchanged shots with the vanguard archers. The enemy¡¯s hundreds of warriors stopped retreating as well, and under the command of a young officer, they fought desperately against the charging Tarasco warriors. That young commander was exceptionally brave! Chiwaco couldn¡¯t help but shudder again as he watched the enemy cut down the noble warriors one after another with ease.


    "Drip drip!" The shrill sound of the conch horn blew, and the attacking warriors were once again beaten back. The Mexica warriors didn¡¯t pursue, just stood in place gasping heavily, conserving their precious strength. Warrior Captain Puap retreated to the central army before wiping the thick blood off his face and the fine beads of sweat from his neck with his war clothes. He looked back apprehensively at the Mexica warriors in formation, and with fear at the young enemy commander-in-chief, then spat out a sound of contempt.


    "Damn, what a bunch of ruthless fellows! The Sun God dozes off, and the eagle is enshrouded by dark clouds. I can almost see the king, yet the legion can¡¯t break through for the life of them!"


    The commander, Puap, spit viciously again before heading towards the central army¡¯s battle flag, where he loudly reprimanded his subordinates. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "A bunch of blind moles! Why do we need so many of you to guard the flag? Greenhorns who haven¡¯t faced battle are useless, and those disorderly savages just run amok¡ªit¡¯s only you veterans I can rely on. On the next charge, you¡¯re all following me! The Chief said: Rescue the king, and every samurai will be promoted to nobility, and I will ascend to hereditary status!"


    The old militiaman nodded and bowed, his aged face blossoming with a smile. He trotted up a couple of steps, took out a handkerchief, and respectfully wiped the blood and sweat from Puap¡¯s face while whispering softly.


    "Great Master, may I have a word with you in private?"


    Puap paused for a moment, giving the old militiaman a skeptical look, but still followed him under the battle flag. Around them were a few of the militiaman¡¯s brothers, all holding shields and spears, standing guard solidly.


    "What¡¯s the matter, old man? Making it all mysterious and shady; it¡¯s really not straightforward!"


    The old militiaman bowed respectfully but spoke with grave sincerity.


    "Great Master, we have three thousand men, and even if half are greenhorns and savages, that still leaves us with fifteen hundred elite warriors! The enemy has but a few hundred at their core. If we truly fight to the death, where could they stand a chance? The current state of things has drained the blood of our House of Hummingbird warriors. The problem isn¡¯t with us! Look at the nobility in the central army, and then at the priests in the rear guard, has any one of them truly given their all?"


    Puap was stunned. The warriors sent to support the engagement were divided into three groups: the Chief¡¯s Hummingbird warriors, the nobility¡¯s private armies from the city, and the priests¡¯ temple guards, each approximately one third. He surveyed the entire army, observing closely; Hummingbird warriors were charging at the front, the private armies of the nobility wavered in the middle, and the temple troops followed at the very back. In every engagement, it was the Hummingbird warriors who died first. And as soon as they faced the slightest setback, the nobility¡¯s private armies would retreat en masse, and the temple troops would halt as well.


    "Damn it! These cowardly fish-rats! I¡¯m going to complain to the vanguard commander-in-chief! The king is right there, and these shameless nobles and useless priests are still holding back their strength!"


    Puap was furious, ready to return to the vanguard immediately. The old militiaman tugged hard on Puap¡¯s arm, urging him once more with deep conviction.


    "Great Master, those are the great nobility and high priests! The commander-in-chief of the vanguard is so clever; he surely has seen through the rottenness of these scoundrels, but there¡¯s just no helping it! With the situation as it is, our few dozen men going up there will just be adding drops to a bucket¡ªwhat good will it do? It¡¯s nothing but a wasteful sacrifice of several dozens of lives!"


    Hearing the old militiaman¡¯s words, Puap¡¯s expression shifted. If he truly went out to speak up, either it would be futile, a waste of words; or the commander-in-chief of the vanguard might use it as an excuse to force the great nobility and high priests into a battle to the death. No matter the outcome of that battle, having offended these great nobles and high priests, what good end could there be for him, a mere newly ascended noble?


    Watching the changing expressions on Puap¡¯s face, Chiwaco weighed his words, then added one final push.


    "Great Master, you¡¯ve always valued my loyalty, and I speak to you from the heart. In these times, you are nobility because you have warriors. Once the warriors are gone, you¡¯ll just be a samurai again! Great Master, I¡¯ll risk saying more. Even the great nobles of the kingdom are harboring their intentions, branches splitting from the old tree, pears ripening beyond the wall. Given your talents, even under Mexica rule, you could still live well¡ªperhaps even better. This battle is the king¡¯s war, not ours!"


    On hearing this, Puap¡¯s face darkened, the militiaman¡¯s words piercing his heart like arrows. The Warrior Captain stood in place, staring intently at the not-so-distant Eagle Banner and the Royal Army fighting beneath it. After a long while, as the Mexica¡¯s thunderbolts boomed again, he slowly nodded.

 Chapter 440 - 219 The King’s War Continued Part 1

    ```


    "Boom, boom!"


    Xiulote solemnly waved the battle flag. The gunners ignited the match cord, and the two arrow-filled wooden cannons once again roared like thunderbolits! The blasting grapeshot pierced through the gaps between the center and the two wings, pounding into the rear of the Tarasco spear legions. Several Copper-axe Guards overseeing the fight instantly fell to the ground, blood spurting from their bodies as they rolled in the rear ranks. The hard-pressed Royal Army¡¯s spear formation once again began to waver!


    "Toot toot!" The monkey Kuluka hurriedly blew the bone whistle and waved the small flag in his hand, throwing in the reserve troops.


    Over five hundred Mexica spearmen formed a tight column, their feet pounding to the inspiring beat of the drums, moving from the rear to the front left, until they reached the outskirts of the front lines. Then, on the captain¡¯s command, the waiting spearmen all shouted in unison, lowered their rattan helmets, gripped their sharp copper spears, and charged fiercely towards the front!


    Hundreds of Tarasco militiamen stood their ground for just a dozen breaths before being scattered by the surging tide of spearmen. Next, countless copper spears glistened coldly as they stabbed from various angles, piercing the obstructing bodies like lotus roots! The column of spearmen continued their assault and finally broke through the Tarasco defense line on the left side of the center for the first time!


    Xiulote on the small hill showed a smile. He waved the small flag, and five hundred stirrup crossbowmen shot out a dense hail of arrows, covering the wooden cannons as they withdrew back to the center. The reserve gunners immediately rushed forward, filling the gaps left by the fallen, and began a new round of tense reloading.


    The Young Commander surveyed the battlefield and took in the situation at a glance.


    The Mexica center army was large in numbers, stretching from the center of the engagement to both sides, and starting to break through from the left. The struggle on the left wing became increasingly fierce, with the battle lines of both sides clashing like tightly bound waves. The Holy City Legion launched an advance in the middle, gaining a clear advantage. The Tarasco Royal Army gathered into a contingent, still forming up and resisting stubbornly. And on the right wing, the consumption of warriors was extraordinarily brutal, with both sides having lost nearly a third! Thousands of corpses piled up at the front, thick blood making the ground slippery underfoot, and the strength of the warriors began to wane, their battle formations gradually tightening. With a shrill blast of the conch, the Religious Legion raised their shields, formed a shield formation, and their offensive momentum was momentarily checked.


    At this moment, the left, center, and right armies pierced deeply into the Tarasco formation like arrows shot forth. Before completely defeating the enemies before them, they would temporarily disappear from the commandable order of battle. The three thousand archers had already spread out, freely shooting their deadly arrows. Only five hundred Temple crossbowmen still followed commands.


    At this stage of the battle, the commander-in-chief¡¯s directives had become less important. The vast battlefield was once again left to the frontline warriors, with the final victory dependent on valiant combat, tenacious fighting spirit, and the determination of the lower-level officers!


    Behind the fierce battlefront, the Eagle Banner still flew high. Su¡¯angua¡¯s face was as grave as water, his heart chilled like autumn. He raised his sleeve, no longer caring for kingly decorum, and wiped the Huitu covering his face with force.


    Just now, the two "thunderbolts" launched by the Mexica had exploded not far in front of the Royal Banner, the thunderous blast causing his ears to ache. The young king gripped the Divine Staff, watching grapeshot fly before his eyes, several supervising Imperial Guards injured and falling, and the spreading dust immediately coating his head and face. What caused him more anxiety was that under the threat of the "thunderbolts," the center army¡¯s spear formation was increasingly unstable, and the Mexica legion had already started to break through from the right!


    The battle situation was unfavorable, the circumstances dire, and the long-awaited reinforcements had yet to arrive. Su¡¯angua stood on tiptoe, looking toward the smoke-billowing northwest. The Hummingbird banners appeared on the horizon, the clusters of black dots not far apart, like the hope of a turning point, close enough to touch.


    However, at this very moment, this long-anticipated reinforcement force stood still, not advancing. They recklessly entangled with another, clearly smaller cluster of black dots. The shouts from the northwest carried on the wind, the familiar accent calling out the king¡¯s name, the sound of fighting so clear, loud but not intense.


    ```


    Su¡¯angua took a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and gripped the hard Divine Staff tightly with his right hand. The King shifted his gaze, stared at the frontline briefly, then resolutely waved his staff, pointing towards the front right.


    "Copper-axe Guards, full assault! Crush the Mexica spear infantry that has broken through!"


    The trusted aide beside him exchanged glances. The Chief of the Personal Guards bowed his head slightly, asking cautiously.


    "Your Majesty, your safety..."


    "Order, full assault!"


    "Understood, following your will!"


    The Chief of the Personal Guards knelt on one knee and gave a respectful salute. He then attached the Commander¡¯s Flag to his back, blew the Bone Whistle, and summoned the two teams of Imperial Guards protecting the King. Afterwards, the brave Chief of the Personal Guards, waving his Longbow, personally ran at the forefront, with over a hundred supervising Imperial Guards joining as well.


    In just a moment, nearly five hundred Copper-axe Guards became an imposing torrent, forming neat ranks, and charged into the frontline within fifty paces. The Chief of the Personal Guards suddenly stopped, drew his Longbow, and fired a whistling Copper Arrow at the Mexica¡¯s advancing Spear Formation!


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!" Hundreds of Feathered Arrows were fiercely shot, bringing an unstoppable howl! The close-range flat trajectory was so powerful that the captain in front of the spear formation only had time to cry out "Raise shields," before an arrow struck his head and face with a "sizzle," causing him to fall backward onto the bodies of his comrades in the rear. The rain of arrows pierced through the Paper Armor, leaving the spear infantry formation in a chaotic tumble. Before the acting vice-captain could issue orders, hundreds of fierce enemy soldiers, wielding Bronze Axes, charged furiously!


    The Copper-axe Guards formed a tight array, and even during the charge, they stayed perfectly ordered. These battle-hardened Samurai had sharp eyes and agile steps, and they broke through directly at the weakest gap created by the fallen, following the archers¡¯ hit. In close combat, they swung their Battle Axes with great force, chopping down the enemy Spears, breaking through the Militia¡¯s Paper Armor, and swiftly cutting their opponents¡¯ throats. And when faced with the enemy¡¯s stabs, they always managed to dodge in time, raising their shields to block, or even slightly bending down to use their metallic shoulder armor to resist the speartips, then swinging their axes to cut off their opponent¡¯s legs!


    The Chief of the Personal Guards¡¯s eyes gleamed sharply as he continuously waved his small banner. Even more Copper-axe Guards, like agile cheetahs, hastened their run and maneuvered to the sides and rear of the stalled long Spear ranks.


    The assaulted vertical formation, lacking flank protection, quickly became disorganized. A large number of Mexica Militia were ferociously cut down, unable to form a collective Spear Formation, reduced to fighting individually. And once the Spear Formation broke, how could the Militia stand against the mighty Imperial Infantry?


    In just a handful of breaths, the two advancing units of Mexica spear infantry were routed, causing the surrounding formations to retreat as well. After that, the Tarasco spear infantry barely managed to fill the gaps, erected their Long Spears again, and the Mexica¡¯s assault was temporarily repelled.


    Seeing the central line stabilize once more, Su¡¯angua nodded expressionlessly.


    "The Copper-axe Guards are after all infantry specialized in close combat, able to match up with the Eagle Warrior Battalion of the Mexica!"


    The young King paused in deep thought, suddenly realizing his own mistake. He turned his head and loudly ordered the few remaining personal guards by his side.


    "Take up my Commander¡¯s Flag and hasten to the front lines! Gather the scattered shooting guards and call back my brave hounds!"


    The personal guards immediately saluted and left, leaving the King¡¯s side empty. The Chief of the Personal Guards, who was at the front line, fired another volley of arrows, stabilizing the situation at the front before hurrying back with five hundred Imperial Guards. His duty was to protect the most important King.


    "Boom, boom!" A quarter of time vanished in an instant, and horrible thunderclaps came forth! This time they were closer to the Royal Banner. Tiny stones struck against the King¡¯s Copper Helmet, producing a snapping sound. Grey, dust-filled mud splattered on the golden Copper Armor, leaving behind deep black spots.


    "Pthoo, pthoo!" Su¡¯angua spat the dust from his mouth, vigorously waved his hand, and stopped the guards from raising their shields around him.


    "Stand back, give me a clear line of sight! Damn it, what are the reinforcements from the north doing? They still haven¡¯t broken through!"


    Su¡¯angua roared in anger, like the growling of a lion or tiger. His eyes widened as he gazed toward the northwestern sky. The Samurai of the reinforcements were still entangled with the Mexica militia, with the emblem of the House of Hummingbird barely visible on their Leather Armor. However, at this crucial moment, the Hummingbird was as slow as a fly, no longer soaring like Lightning!


    "Your Majesty, the central army on the front line is about to collapse, and the reinforcements are nowhere near breaking through. We won¡¯t hold out that long! While the Samurai on both flanks are still holding on, and the Copper-axe Guards still have some strength left, let¡¯s do what it wants!"


    Upon hearing this, flames of furious rage blazed in Su¡¯angua¡¯s eyes. He turned around fiercely like an enraged tiger, only to see it was his loyal hound, Yuku. Yuku was drenched in blood, holding a Longbow, with several Feathered Arrows stuck diagonally in his thickened Leather Armor. Behind him, a large group of Copper-axe Guards had already gathered, forming an indestructible Battle Axe. At this sight, the young King¡¯s expression slightly eased, and he asked in a solemn tone.


    "Yuku, is there truly no turning point in the battle?"


    The Great General Yuku did not speak. He simply knelt down and deeply bowed his head to the King. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Wait a bit longer... perhaps there is still hope..."


    Su¡¯angua¡¯s expression shifted, anxious, angry, resentful, hopeful, finally turning into a low murmur to himself.


    However, the situation on the battlefield is never altered by an individual¡¯s will, and the King¡¯s waiting was in vain. Moments later, a Scout rushed over from the south. As soon as he neared, he collapsed before the King, having exhausted all his strength.


    "Your... Your Majesty, the Mexica legion is only ten... just over ten miles to the south!"


    "What did you say? The Mexica legion from the south? Just over ten miles away! Weren¡¯t they still forty miles away this morning?"


    The young King stepped forward, grabbed the Scout¡¯s collar, and lifted him from the ground, demanding sharply.


    "Did you witness it with your own eyes?!"


    "Your... Your Majesty, by the three gods, I witnessed it with my own eyes!" The Scout gasped for breath before recounting in detail under the King¡¯s anxious gaze.


    "Since this morning, the Mexica Scouts have been continuously skirmishing with ours. Then, the Mexica Commander-in-Chief under the Moon Banner suddenly accelerated their march. They abandoned the main force and all their supplies, taking only fifteen hundred elite soldiers, rushing north non-stop! Our small groups of Scouts couldn¡¯t hold them off for long, in just a quarter-hour, the enemy will reach the battlefield!"


    Hearing the Scout¡¯s report, Yuku bowed deeply and advised the King loudly.


    "Your Majesty, let¡¯s find another way! Let me protect you on our way to the southwest! The mountainous region to the southwest remains intact, there¡¯s still something that can be done for the Kingdom!"


    The look of hope on Su¡¯angua¡¯s face finally turned into utter despair. He looked at the distant Wolf Banner, and the young King facing him also looked over. That small figure, like a Divine Mountain from the East, weighed heavily upon his heart with the force of ten thousand jins.


    After a moment, Su¡¯angua bit his lip so hard it bled, and made up his mind. He looked around at the more than a thousand Copper-axe Guards, his last force and the hope for a desperate fight!


    "Yuku, assemble the Copper-axe Guards, and take the inherited Royal Banner!"


    The young King¡¯s mouth was bloodied, like a beast ready to tear into flesh, his eyes showing deep madness.


    "I will lead the troops in person, circle around the left wing, and launch a final assault towards the opposite Commander¡¯s Flag!"

 Chapter 441 - 220 The King’s War Continued Part 2

    The north wind howled, the Eagle Banner fluttered, arrows whistled down, and the drums of war faded away. The afternoon sunlight illuminated the young King, his bronze armor shining with a golden brilliance that made it impossible to look at directly.


    The hound Yuku bowed deeply in homage. At this moment, the resolute Su¡¯angua was filled with boldness, the very King he was willing to die for! However, after kneeling, Great General Yuku firmly shook his head, earnestly advising, "Your Majesty, the heritage Royal Banner must not be moved lightly! The front lines are barely holding on, and once the Royal Banner is moved, the central troops will immediately collapse! Therefore, for your safety, please leave behind the ancestral Eagle Banner!"


    Saying this, Yuku knelt once more. His expression was grave, showing the tenacity of a hound, but also the cunning of a coyote.


    "Your Majesty, let me carry the small flag leading the charge, and fight to the death ahead of you! Please put on the ordinary armor of the Imperial Guards, hide among them, and also leave behind a body double, guarding the King¡¯s Great Banner!"


    "The Imperial Guards will make a desperate charge. If things go awry, I will protect you as we retreat directly to the southwest! As long as there is a double and the Royal Banner to attract the Mexica, your safety can be maximized!"


    Hearing Yuku¡¯s plan, Su¡¯angua was taken aback, his desperate courage receding like the tide. "Whizz, whizz, whizz!" Arrows struck again. Great General Yuku called out softly, and the Imperial Guards raised their Great Shields in unison, tightly shielding the King from view and blocking all lines of sight.


    Great General Yuku himself stepped forward, bowed to remove the King¡¯s armor. Su¡¯angua remained silent, offering no resistance. A body double with a similar build, eyes filled with resolve to die, put on the shiny Copper Helmet that obscured the face, and then donned the unique golden Copper Armor of the King. When the shield-bearing guard dispersed, the "King" of Tarasco still stood tall, resolutely under the Royal Banner.


    Next, the "King" of Tarasco waved the command flag, issuing the sole directive. More than twelve hundred Copper-axe Guards launched a full assault! It was the largest number of Imperial Guards that could be mustered in a short time; the rest had either already fallen in battle or were engaged in a fight to the death. At that moment, the Imperial Guards put down their Longbows, picked up their Bronze Axes, and transformed into an unstoppable golden flood surging toward the left flank of the Royal Army!


    Under the banner of the Black Wolf, Xiulote closely monitored the battle before him. He saw that after a volley of arrows, the Copper-axe Guards beneath the Royal Banner poured out, leaving only a handful of trusted aides beside the King of Tarasco. The Young Commander watched briefly before gripping the command flag tightly. The direction chosen by the Imperial Guards¡¯ infantry charge was not the heavy middle but the tragically weakened right flank of the Mexica!


    "The wounded White Deer turns into a fierce tiger and leopard, making a final, life-sacrificing strike! A dying beast is most ferocious; the last struggle is right before us!"


    Xiulote¡¯s countenance was complex, his heartbeat accelerating. He knew that the badly damaged right flank could not withstand this onslaught. The young King waved the command flag frantically. The shrill sound of the "didi" conch horn blew, and five hundred Stirrup Crossbowmen quickly turned to retreat under the Wolf Banner. The dispersed Longbow trusted aides began to gather immediately.


    The flute sounded, and over a thousand Copper-axe Guards, in neat formation, began to speed up their rush. As they approached the fight on the left flank, they let out a wild roar and surged from the edge, bursting into the fray! The Kingdom¡¯s Warriors mustered their last bits of strength and launched their assault in unison. Battle Axes fell, blood sprayed! The Religious Legion, poor at defense and already reduced by a third, managed to hold the enemy at bay for only a moment before their lines were broken, clearing the way forward. Veteran General Etalik blew his clay whistle frantically. He engaged in close combat himself, assembling the scattered soldiers into a group with the help of his trusted aides.


    Yuku carried the small flag, brandishing his Spear and quickly breaking through the first line of defense. He wiped the blood from his face, looked toward the direction of the Wolf Banner, and continued to charge at the forefront. The Copper-axe Guards also pressed forward without pause, pouring into the enemy lines. Soon, hundreds of Longbow Warriors appeared before them, with more Mexica Warriors constantly arriving.


    "Hum... Whizz...!" The Greatbow throbbed, arrows flew fiercely, and death came in an instant! Dozens of Imperial Guards were felled at once. At close range, Copper Arrows "thud" pierced through the Leather Armor, and "shh" penetrated bodies. Most of the stricken warriors died instantly, without a chance to utter a final word! Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    On this battlefield where death bloomed, Yuku remained expressionless, like a sculpture of slaughter. He moved with steady agility, running swiftly like a hound. "Slash!" In a blink, the hound was the first to break into the ranks of the Archers. With a diagonal thrust of his Spear, a step forward, he impaled his opponent directly. The Copper-axe Guards roared once again. They crouched and charged, waving their Battle Axes like stampeding buffalo with sharp horns raised!


    The loosely formed Longbow Warriors could only hold off for a few breaths before the massed charge of the Imperial Infantry crashed through. "Ssh!" Yuku retracted his Spear along with a gush of blood, and no obstacles remained before him. Groups of Imperial Guards gradually pushed through the second line of defense, converging around their leader.


    The hound looked ahead, and a cold gleam flashed in his eyes. The banner of the Black Wolf was just several hundred steps away, the familiar Jaguar Warrior Brigade stood shielded and composed, and a troop of Crossbowmen hurried to reinforce. Under the towering flags, the Mexica Marshal in a Feathered Helmet showed no clear expression, only casting down a proud, condescending gaze.


    Yuku looked to the right, where the Mexica¡¯s wooden cannons were only a hundred steps away. Wooden barrels were wrapped with Copper Hoops, the small muzzle emitted wisps of blue smoke, looking like divine objects of the mysterious Priests, commanding both awe and desire. Yuku stared for a few moments, shook his head regretfully, and cast aside the divine object within easy reach. He then looked back to the warriors behind him. The young King, clothed in standard War Armor, stood inconspicuously at the center of the Imperial Guards. The King¡¯s body was stained red, and the Bronze Axe in his hands was also bloodied; the descendants of the Divine Eagle never lacked courage!

 Chapter 442 - 220 The King’s War Continued Part 2

    The hound nodded solemnly, then coldly waved the command flag. More than two hundred of the Imperial Guards at the rear were left behind. They were to use their lives to temporarily block the returning Mexica legion. Afterward, Yuku continued to point forward with the command flag, blowing on the short flute in his mouth. A thousand Copper-axe Guards then followed the unparalleled warrior, charging again towards the enemy marshal!


    Xiulote stood erect on the small hill, watching the assault of the Royal Army¡¯s Imperial Guards. His palms were sweaty, but his face bore a confident smile.


    "As expected of the widely famed Copper-axe Guards! Unfortunately, they¡¯ve met me today, and are doomed to fall here!"


    Then the young king majestically scanned the front, shouting to the Jaguar Warrior Brigade who were his escorts.


    "My loyal Jaguar Warrior nobles! Four years ago, the Tarasco Imperial Guards trampled on your dignity, becoming renowned in a single battle! Now, it is time for you to redress that humiliation. I pray to the Chief Divine to bless you with the promise of victory! Break the Tarasco Imperial Guards, reclaim the glory of the Jaguar!"


    "Roar!!"


    Five hundred Jaguar Warriors roared fiercely together. Many honor-valuing Jaguar Warriors pulled out daggers, slitting their cheeks, letting fresh blood drip down. As blood slid down, they placed their hands over their hearts, pledging a death oath! Then, the warriors in the front ranks took out their javelins, lining up on top of the hill, waiting for the approach of the Copper-axe Guards.


    "Swish, swish, swish!"


    Xiulote waved the small flag again. Five hundred Stirrup Crossbowmen had approached the hill but couldn¡¯t advance further. Following the flag signals, they stopped right there, and without a moment¡¯s breath, quickly strung their crossbows, firing a deadly arrow rain at the enemy Imperial Guards who had breached within a hundred paces! Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seeing the Crossbow warriors raising their massive crossbows, Yuku¡¯s pupils suddenly constricted. He quickly stepped back, standing in front of the King, and raised his shield high.


    "Bang, bang!" The violent impact came in an instant, with fierce shrieks rising and then ceasing. Afterward, Yuku didn¡¯t check the casualties among the warriors. He urgently blew the bamboo flute, pointing the command flag towards the forward left side. The leading three hundred or more Imperial Guards immediately leaned forward, rushing at high speed towards the Battle Group of Crossbowmen within a hundred paces. They must not allow the powerful Armor-Piercing Crossbowmen to fire at close range again!


    Xiulote slightly nodded his head. Hundreds of Crossbow Arrows flew, and the fierce Tarasco Imperial Guards fell in heaps. The Armor-Piercing Crossbowmen indeed were the nemesis of elite infantry. Then, the young king shifted his gaze, watching the quick-reacting enemy Great General, a smile of appreciation emerging on his face.


    Across more than a hundred paces, Yuku looked up to meet his gaze. He saw the enemy Marshal¡¯s disdainful smile, and a chilling murderous intent flowed in his eyes. The hound paused only briefly, then grasped the shield in his left hand, and spear in his right, leading seven hundred Imperial Guards to charge towards the Wolf Banner again!


    The intense war drums "thud, thud"¡¯ sounded, and the surging footsteps roared forth. The two most elite Battle Groups finally approached within fifty paces of each other. At that moment, the two supreme kings, separated by a hundred paces, also staked their lives!


    Xiulote waved the command flag, and the frontline Jaguar Warriors let out a tiger¡¯s roar, suddenly launching their javelins; Yuku blew the bamboo flute, and the rear Copper-axe Guards raised their Longbows, swiftly firing Feathered Arrows. Then, warriors from both sides simultaneously let out a roar, ferociously rushing towards each other!


    The battlefield seemed to freeze momentarily as the warriors wildly swung their War Clubs, chopped with Battle Axes, with only the opponent in sight, and no sound in their ears; yet the world came alive again moments later, as thunderous shouts echoed over the hilltop, hundreds of the world¡¯s most elite warriors splattered blood, entangled in a fierce downfall. The desperate carnage had just begun, and immediately reached its most intense climax!


    A Copper-axe Guard swung his Bronze Axe powerfully, splitting his opponent¡¯s well-crafted Wooden Shield right in half, with bright plumes scattering everywhere. Facing the enemy¡¯s fierce attack, the adept Jaguar Warrior threw away the broken shield, stepped forward nimbly, and deftly swung his War Club. The sharp Obsidian blade arrived like lightning, easily slicing through the neck, instantly taking the enemy¡¯s life.


    Before the Jaguar Warrior could reveal a victorious smile, a huge Two-handed Battle Axe came head-on. "Bang"! The great axe cleaved through everything, forcefully striking him down. "Spurt, spurt" of blood gushed like a waterfall, and the mutilated body was nearly split in half. It turned out that within the Battle Group of Great Shields and Hand Axes, there still lurked even more fierce Great Axe Warriors. The power of the Two-handed Battle Axe was unparalleled, rapidly attracting the attention of the Mexica warriors.


    The Great Axe Warrior barely caught his breath when two War Clubs simultaneously attacked from both sides. Bereft of a shield, he desperately swung his great axe to the right. Another Wooden Shield was "bang" smashed, but the seasoned Jaguar Warrior had already pulled back his attack, quickly stepping back to dodge the oncoming blade. The opponent widely exposed, the left-side Jaguar Warrior cracked a grin, performing a half-turn slash, cutting a half-meter-long wound across the opponent¡¯s torso! The Great Axe Warrior immediately "thump" fell to the ground, the huge Battle Axe dropping into the dust.


    "Pfft!" The brave Jaguar Warrior had just ended an enemy¡¯s life when the harvesting God of Death swiftly arrived. A sharp Spear quickly and incomparably pierced through the waist and the Leather Armor, then stirred left and right before fiercely pulling out. Amid the spray of blood, another fresh corpse appeared on the battlefield. Yuku raised his Spear, flicking it lightly and swiftly. Another shieldless Jaguar Warrior let out a half scream, struggling to cover his bleeding neck as he fell to the ground.

 Chapter 443 - 220 The King’s War Continued Part 2

    The hound Yuku then took a step back, wiping the blood from his face. Narrowing his eyes, he stared like a serpent at the Mexica Marshal fifty paces away. Several trusted aides were holding up Great Shields, clustering in front of the Marshal. The hound reached out with his left hand to touch the Longbow at his back, shook his head, and once more, wielding his Spear, charged into the enemy ranks!


    Atop the command platform, Xiulote had already put away the command flag, taken down his Longbow, and was closely watching the battle unfolding before him. He was in the midst of imminent danger, the intense sounds of combat echoing in his ears, the rich scent of blood enveloping his nostrils. This was the familiar deadly melee that, after a long time, had once again come so close to him!


    The young King¡¯s expression was placid, his heart calm as still water. He watched as one elite Warrior after another fought on the King¡¯s battlefield, falling one after another like ears of grain. The Warriors were either tall, strong, valiant, or fearless, but they were all just the King¡¯s pawns! S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At this thought, the young King slightly lowered his gaze, with a face as calm as a placid lake; his heart thundered like Thunderbolt, and flames ignited within his chest! The King¡¯s gaze continuously surveyed, constantly moved, etching everything into his heart.


    Dozens of paces away, five hundred Jaguar Warrior Brigade and seven hundred Copper-axe Guards fought fiercely, neither side backing down, evenly matched. Although the Copper-axe Guards temporarily held a numerical advantage, they could not break through in a short time. A decisive blow would halt here! A hundred paces away, five hundred Stirrup Crossbowmen had already thrown down their large crossbows. Wielding War Clubs, they transformed into mighty Temple Guards, and battled fiercely against the Kingdom¡¯s Imperial Guards, who were only half their numbers, gaining a clear upper hand. And two to three hundred paces away, over a thousand Longbow Warriors continually gathered, launching assaults against the desperately defending two hundred Imperial Guards. Their numbers dwindling, the Imperial Guards could at most hold for a mere quarter.


    Xiulote slowly nodded. He turned to his side and ordered in a deep voice.


    "Sound the battle drums for a general attack, wave the banner for advance! Strictly command the Vanguard Warriors not to turn back to support, to quickly break the enemy line, and cut down the Tarasco Royal Banner!"


    Next, the young King looked towards Bertade, who was beside him, and before the Head Warrior could speak, he commanded.


    "Bertade, you are my bravest Holy Eagle! Take a dozen Warriors and repel the enemy¡¯s Great General!"


    Xiulote stretched out his finger, pointing to Yuku, fifty steps away, who was continuously advancing through the ranks.


    "He is the arrowhead of the Tarasco Imperial Guards! Defeat him, regardless of life or death!"


    Looking at the majestic King, Bertade was silent, bowed his head solemnly in salute. Then, the Head Warrior took down his Longbow, aimed at the serpentine-dancing Yuku with his Spear, paused for a moment, then shot a fierce arrow!


    "Whoosh!" A precise arrow whistled through the air! Hearing the wind of the arrow shooting towards him, Yuku abruptly turned his head, feeling a pain in his left ear. He swiftly bent over, reaching out his hand to touch, and found his fingers covered in warm blood; only half of his left ear remained. The hound was suddenly startled and cautiously stopped in his tracks. Looking up, he saw an aged-faced Warrior putting away a Greatbow, grasping a club and shield, and striding meteorically towards him.


    Seeing the opponent¡¯s stride, Yuku¡¯s expression turned stern. Ignoring the pain in his left ear, he quickly turned his head, casting a covert glance at the supreme King. The King stood unobtrusively at the center of the Imperial Guards, receiving the quiet yet tight protection of the samurai. Yuku pressed his lips together, nodded affirmatively to the King, and then turned back around. Taking a deep breath, he angled his spear upward and stared at the rapidly approaching Mexica Head Warrior, advancing quickly to meet him.


    Bertade¡¯s expression was resolute. His steps were light as he ran like a tiger, with a clear sense of rhythm, leaping forward like a fierce beast. The Head Warrior kept his eyes on his opponent, imprinting the adversary¡¯s form in his vision but not allowing himself to be fooled by any minor movements. Once Martial Arts reached a certain level, the enemies in front of you would transform from complex, detailed human shapes into simple, abstract silhouettes. Attack, defense, evasion, and block¡ªall movements had a strong tendency and were traceable, without a chance to deceive his eyes! At this level, the determination of the battle¡¯s outcome lay only in the strength and speed of movement, the precision and control of the body!


    Bertade allowed himself a faint smile; with a swift lift of his shield in his left hand, he blocked Yuku¡¯s rapid thrust with a "bang." The Head Warrior then moved diagonally forward, closing in within two steps of his opponent. His right arm swung out, and the war club struck precisely at Yuku¡¯s side.


    Yuku immediately dodged with an agile sidestep, again widening the gap between them. His spear made a light jab, aiming for Bertade¡¯s throat. Bertade also sidestepped with a nimble dodge, barely avoiding the spear. Then, the Head Warrior swung his club diagonally, knocking the spear aside while stepping forward with his left foot, closing in on his adversary once again. Yuku had no choice but to retreat step by step, maintaining the optimal distance for his spear.


    On the intense battlefield, the two men advanced and retreated with shifting footwork, avoiding the weapons around them while launching fierce attacks at each other. Within a minute or two of engagement, Yuku felt a heavy sinking in his heart and a coldness rising. He had been fighting all the way and had already expended much of his strength; facing such a formidable opponent, he truly had no chance at all!


    The situation was urgent, and he had to act fast! With that thought, Yuku¡¯s eyes turned fierce. He suddenly stepped forward, thrusting his spear out long, revealing a clear opening. Then, his right hand slightly loosened its grip, ready to draw the bronze axe for a strike at any moment!


    Bertade¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the surging intent to kill in his opponent. He swung his shield, feeling the slightly weaker strength of the spear and then revealed a knowing smile. Faced with the enemy¡¯s opening, the Head Warrior did not rush in; instead, he sliced toward his opponent¡¯s hands along the spear, forcing Yuku to immediately drop the spear and draw the axe.


    The Head Warrior¡¯s smile was like a piercing arrow, striking deep into Yuku¡¯s heart. The agile hunter stepped back again, distancing himself from his adversary. He sighed softly, abandoning all chance of luck, and then made a decisive call, shouting loudly.


    "Block him! Buy me a moment!"


    Hearing the order of the Great General, the Chief of the Personal Guards clenched his teeth. Raising the Great Shield and half-hiding the bronze axe, he threw himself into the fray, and dozens of Imperial Guards rushed forward with him.


    Bertade¡¯s brow furrowed as he led the several dozen brave warriors beside him, dodging the pursuing Chief of the Personal Guards and continuing his pursuit of the Great General, Yuku. However, the Chief of the Personal Guards raised his shield without regard for his own life, catching up and entangling with the enemy. Meanwhile, Yuku left the large group of Imperial Guards to block the path, taking only a few Death Warriors with him as he turned and ran!


    Having just escaped from the formidable Head Warrior, the swift hunter bent down and launched a fierce attack on another side of the enemy formation. Wielding his spear rapidly, he endured the increasing wounds and desperately pushed forward ten steps! Then, under the self-sacrificing protection of the Death Warriors, the exceptional warrior plunged the spear into the ground with a "bang" and, without pause, took up the longbow. Aiming at the Mexica Marshal thirty paces away, he fired an arrow as swift as a Thunderbolt!

 Chapter 444 - 221 The King’s War Continued Part 3

    "Your Highness!"


    Separated by tens of paces, Bertade suddenly turned around. For the first time, deep fear showed on his usually calm face.


    "Ancestors protect us, the Three Divinities bless us!"


    Su¡¯angua forcefully swung his axe, his face filled with uncontrollable ecstasy. He watched as the Mexica commander suddenly arched backward, his figure disappearing behind the shield wall, and the towering Black Wolf Banner also started to topple backward. He couldn¡¯t help but cry out loud.


    "The Mexica commander is dead! Victory to the Royal Army!!"


    Accompanied by the loud shout, the hands of the battling elite warriors slackened. Thousands of focused gazes all turned toward the nearby Wolf Banner. Intense emotions were evident in their eyes as complicated feelings intermingled in the air! The Tarasco warriors were filled with excitement and joy, while the Mexica warriors were in shock and apprehension.


    As the morale of the entire army and the focus of all eyes, where the Commander¡¯s Flag stood, there lay the army¡¯s heart! The Black Wolf¡¯s Commander¡¯s Flag, having suddenly toppled halfway, stopped abruptly and then slowly righted itself. With the help of his trusted aide Ters, Xiulote finally steadied himself, struggling to stand upright!


    The young King touched his damaged and fallen Feathered Helmet, then the Commander¡¯s Flag strapped securely behind him. Then, he tilted his head back, looking at the copper arrow less than a foot from his forehead, a strong palpitation surged in his chest. Moments later, the palpitations turned into burgeoning rage, and he reached out to pull the copper arrow from the flagpole. The arrow was deeply embedded in the wood, and he couldn¡¯t pull it out at once. The young King gritted his teeth and swore aloud.


    "Damn those Tarasco people, always using such sneaky and despicable tactics!!... For the commander of the Alliance to carry such a banner, it¡¯s simply a living target for arrows!"


    In the decisive moment that determined life and death, a sharp copper arrow became a streak of lightning, precisely penetrating the gap in the shield, fiercely snapping off the long feather of his feather crown, then "thud" embedded itself into the flagpole behind him! The young King instinctively ducked low at the first sign of danger, as the swift whoosh of the arrow swept over his forehead, the massive force still causing him to fall backward.


    "The traditions of the Alliance indeed need to change! The era of long-range combat has arrived, and our war strategies must be improved accordingly!"


    Xiulote shook his head vigorously. The Mexica Alliance had always valued bravery, with the army¡¯s commander always donning a conspicuous flag and standing on an elevated front position, personally encouraging the warriors to fight valiantly. But as a new era dawned, these old rules became fraught with great risks. In the "once" history, the Mexica had fought against the Spaniards in the field and had repeatedly lost after initial victories because the commanders carrying the flags were suddenly felled by the enemy¡¯s muskets and crossbows.


    The young King¡¯s heart was tumultuous, but he maintained a solemn face. He straightened his feather crown, stood up straight, and with a decisive wave of his hand, the trusted aides¡¯ shield wall opened slightly. The lofty and majestic figure of the commander finally came back into the sight of everyone. Then, the young King clenched his fist and raised his right hand high!


    "Chief Divine protects, His Highness is unharmed!" Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Instantly, fervent cheers erupted. The Jaguar Warriors roared with all their might, frenziedly attacking the enemy in front of them. Their charges were more powerful, their cuts more vicious, intent on tearing the despicable Tarasco attackers who targeted their prince to shreds!


    "Thud!" Ters stepped half a pace forward, raising the huge Tower Shield with anticipation, blocking the swiftly shot copper arrows. Once the closely positioned trusted aides were on guard, such sneak attacks stood no chance of success.


    "The moment has passed, the Three Divinities have forsaken us!"


    Yuku, the hound, lowered his Greatbow, sighing in pain and regret. Around him, Jaguar Warriors were charging like wild beasts. They wielded their War Clubs wide, swept across with their shields, no longer defending, solely focused on pouncing on the despicable enemy generals who had attacked their prince. In just over a dozen breaths, several of the Death Warriors defending the front fell one after another.


    "Swoosh!" A sharp whistling sound arrived suddenly. Yuku swiftly ducked, an arrow like lightning grazing over his head. The sharp copper arrow scraped across his Copper Helmet and "hissed" as it shot into the distance! Taking a fearful glance, Yuku saw the Mexica commander on the platform glaring furiously, drawing his Longbow, aiming once more in this direction! The perceptive Yuku didn¡¯t hesitate, immediately bending at the waist and moving like a hunting dog.


    One arrow missed, another nocked. Xiulote personally drew the Longbow, taking aim for a moment, then frowned grimly. The enemy Great General was moving like an elusive hare, difficult to lock on accurately. He instantly shifted the aim of his bow, looking toward the center of the Tarasco army lines, where an ordinary Copper-axe Guard was also staring intently at him.


    Their gazes met, and the Copper-axe Guard¡¯s eyes conveyed an intense sense of regret and deep-seated hatred. Xiulote furrowed his brows again, recognizing the very enemy who had just shouted out loud! Then, the young warrior took aim briefly and decisively released his right hand, sending a stern arrow on its way!


    "Swoosh!" The sound of death arrived in an instant. Fear flashed across Su¡¯angua¡¯s face. He quickly moved to the side, and his right arm suddenly felt pain. "Thud!" A fierce feathered arrow pierced through the Leather Armor, embedding deeply into his arm, blood flowing from the wound. Faced with the threat of arrows, the guards on either side quickly lifted their shields while some Archers returned fire, and a trusted aide approached discreetly to inspect.


    Su¡¯angua crouched down quickly, removing his Leather Armor. With no time for thorough treatment on the intense battlefield, the trusted aide whispered an apology and broke off the arrow shaft with care. The King clenched his teeth, emitting a muted groan. The trusted aide hesitated, not receiving the expected reprimand, and continued to carefully wrap the wound with the embedded Arrowhead and gauze.

 Chapter 445 - 221 The King’s War Continued Part 2

    The young King maintained a deathly silence. He endured an unprecedented weakness and pain, his eyes red, staring fixedly towards Xiulote. Only after the trusted aide had finished dealing with it, helping the King to don his armor again, did Su¡¯angua let out a pained groan, roaring desperately,


    "May the Three Gods protect the Divine Eagle, the Kingdom shall never perish! One day, I, Su¡¯angua, will personally draw the longbow and shoot through your heart, reviving the Tarasco Kingdom!"


    "Fight for your life!"


    Dozens of steps away, Bertade¡¯s left foot delivered a swift kick, making his opponent suddenly stagger. Following that, the Head Warrior swung his right arm powerfully, the sharp war club tracing a masterful arc, striking accurately on the Chief of the Personal Guards¡¯ neck. The desperate Chief of the Personal Guard paused abruptly, his eyes then lost their light forever. He just "ugh, ugh" twice, then fell straight down into the dust with a gush of blood.


    "Where will you run to!"


    The Head Warrior, furious, swept his gaze across, shouting out again. His eyes burned with rage, locking onto Yuku¡¯s direction, and he fiercely charged once more.


    Yuku, hearing the shout, turned back to see the body of the Chief of the Personal Guard fall. His heart darkened, and turning his head again, he was terrified to see the injured King. At this moment, the unmatched warrior felt utterly exhausted. He surveyed the battlefield, where the Copper-axe Guards and the Jaguar Warrior Brigade were entangled in fierce combat, completely unable to break through. Not far away, the enemy crossbowmen had already dispatched a team, beginning to shoot at the rear of the guards. Meanwhile, only a few dozen of the blocking guards remained hundreds of steps away, with thousands of Longbow Warriors like an unstoppable swarm, about to engulf everything.


    "This battle is hopeless, the Royal Army is destined to fail!"


    The Great General Yuku clenched his fists, issuing a lone wolf-like howl, then squeezed out a desperate shout from his depths.


    "Vanguard, cover the rear! Rear guard, retreat! Retreat swiftly to the southwest! Quick, quick!"


    Yuku blew the shrill horn and waved the retreat flag. Then, he mercilessly abandoned the vanguard, not looking back as he ran towards the King. The rearguard Copper-axe Guards exchanged looks, their eyes brimming with desperate resolve. They fiercely raised their shields, using their own lives to barely block the furious Head Warrior and the equally enraged Jaguar Warrior Brigade.


    More than three hundred rear guard warriors quickly turned around. They discreetly protected the King, forming formations and rushing southwest. Moments later, a fierce rain of arrows descended from the sky. The Longbow Warriors had already broken through the blockade. Under the command of the Commander¡¯s Flag, they first dispatched a part to pursue quickly, while the rest shot at the fleeing guards. Continuously, injured guards fell, desperately resisting the pursuing Mexica warriors, and soon turned into corpses on the ground.


    Xiulote stood tall under the Wolf Banner, swinging the command flag in his hand again. Five hundred close guards split off to ambush the remaining enemy guards from behind. War clubs swung, bronze axes clashed, and it only took a moment for the battlefield¡¯s situation to change. Mexica warriors attacked from both sides, coupled with close-range Feathered Arrow shots, and in just a quarter hour, the Tarasco guards had fallen one after another, struggling into different shapes before a small mound.


    Desperate shouts rose in succession, ascending into the sky, then turning into mournful howls. The gods of Tarasco remained indifferent, watching the all-consuming battlefield, and were finally devoured themselves. The rearguard, bleeding, returned all warmth to the Earth¡¯s Mother Goddess. Then, their bodies gradually cooled, merging forever with the vast plain, eternally resting in the land of their birth. And an ancient kingdom, accompanied by their lives, vanished in this era of change!


    The war drums thundered, arrows flew, victorious roars intertwined with the dying groans. The young ruler overlooked the battlefield beneath him, his guards pursuing the defeated, the last enemy army retreating, and thereby the momentum was settled! He took a deep breath, feeling the power filling his chest. Then, Xiulote looked up, his face bursting with spontaneous exhilaration, displaying a radiantly unmatched smile.


    "This battle, I have finally won!!"


    Ten meters away, Bertade strode forward, carrying his bloodstained war club, hurrying back to his lord¡¯s side. He circled around the Wolf Banner, examining it for several breaths before finally bowing assuredly.


    "Your Highness, the enemy guards have completely retreated, the Tarasco Royal Army no longer has the power to counterattack! This decisive battle that determines the world, ultimately belongs to us! Victory is yours, my King!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote laughed heartily. He affectionately patted the Head Warrior¡¯s shoulder, then spoke in a deep voice.


    "The Tarascans have once again ambushed me! I am furious! Bertade, I give you five hundred personal guards, go hunt down that hound of a general! If possible, capture him alive. If not, execute him on the spot!"


    Bertade replied solemnly. After a moment of hesitation, he still spoke up to suggest.


    "Your Highness, the primary task now is to break through the enemy¡¯s central army, cut off the Royal Eagle Banner, and capture the Tarasco King! Once the Royal Banner is down, the enemy will disperse completely!" sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote nodded, his voice filled with implicit understanding as he laughed loudly.


    "Do not worry, I am well aware! This honor, I leave to the central army¡¯s two great generals, especially Ezpan, born of the Kingdom! Bertade, my Holy Eagle, go quickly and bring back the enemy¡¯s hound!"


    Bertade saluted solemnly, then turned to lead his troops away. Amid the great battle, he once again felt the change in His Highness, as if he were the midday sun, radiating scorching light.

 Chapter 446 - 221 The King’s War Continued Part 3

    Xiulote gazed toward the front line; the situation had completely tilted in favor of the Alliance. With the failure of the Copper-axe Guards¡¯ charge, the morale of the Royal Army had once again faltered. Warriors on both flanks of the Royal Army drew into a fully defensive circle formation, while the center¡¯s Tarasco Militia was on the verge of collapse, leaving only a few thin lines of defense. Behind the enemy¡¯s center, the inherited Eagle Banner limply fluttered. The resolute Tarasco "King," along with a sparse group of trusted aides, stood bravely under the Royal Banner.


    "Caught in a deadly trap, he holds his ground till the end. Truly a glorious King," worthy of the most exalted sacrifice!


    The young King stared at the Eagle Banner for a moment, then turned his gaze to the King in golden armor, genuinely whispering in admiration. Soon after, his expression turned solemn, and he swung the command flag vigorously.


    "Thud, thud, thud!" The war drums beat to their utmost urgency, like a continuous line of torrential rain in the rainy season. Thousands of Longbow Warriors raised the war clubs at their waists, issuing a soul-stirring roar. Simultaneously, from both sides of the center, they launched a deadly charge against Tarasco¡¯s spearmen!


    "Thud, thud, thud!" Before the sound of the first war drums had faded, the warriors had already cut through the enemy lines, encircling to the rear of the center. Kuluka urgently blew the Bone Whistle, and Ezpan vigorously waved the battle flag. Over six thousand Spear Militia shouted in unison, like a floodwater that had been accumulating for a long time, finally breaking through the defensive levee!


    "Thud, thud, thud!" The second round of war drums rang out again. The sharp cold light flashed, and the flood of spears submerged everything. Royal Army Militia struggled, trembling, faltering, and eventually dropped their weapons and turned to flee, exposing their vulnerable backs. The Militia howled, trying to escape the battlefield, but were mercilessly stabbed to the ground. The Mexica warriors on both sides of the center closed in, causing swathes of Tarasco Militia to kneel down and surrender to the unstoppable enemy.


    The surging Spear Formation paused not, warriors and Militia fervently moving forward. In mere moments, thousands of Mexica legion had tightly encircled the insignificant Tarasco King and the solitary Royal Eagle Banner! S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Thud, thud, thud!" The third set of war drums soared to the heavens. The Militia thrust out swaths of spears, effortlessly stabbing all the King¡¯s trusted aides to death! The dense spear forest, carrying a chill, firmly shackled the King. Then, with the tacit consent of the High Envoy, Ezpan ferociously charged forward, his mouth emitting excited, unintelligible shrieks. The former Kingdom miners, wielding blunt war clubs, fiercely struck down the supreme King and then tightly bound his hands with hemp rope, like a bound deer ready for slaughter!


    A few steps away, Kuluka¡¯s eyes were lively. He held the towering inherited Royal Banner in one hand and took out a small, blunt Copper Axe with the other, then chopped down with force! "Crack," the sound echoed as the two-century-old Royal Banner slowly tilted and then accelerated in its fall, until a "thump" echoed as the banner fell to the ground, buried in the mud.


    In that moment, the entire battlefield seemed to quiet down. The next moment, tens of thousands of Mexica warriors cheered in unison, their high-pitched shouts shaking heaven and earth, accompanied by two Thunderbolts fired into the sky!


    "Boom! Boom! The Tarasco King has been captured! The Tarasco King has been captured!!"


    The exuberant cheers echoed across the battlefield. Warriors on both flanks of the Royal Army paused for a moment, witnessing the fall of the Royal Banner, and finally lost all their morale. As if their spines were broken by the last straw, they knelt directly in front of their positions, dropping Copper Spears and shields in swathes, allowing the enemies¡¯ weapons to fall on their necks, no longer able to resist. The resolute Royal Army warriors lost hope and turned into limp turkeys, hundreds of which were captured by the Alliance!


    Xiulote stood on high ground. He watched the Tarasco Royal Banner crash down, watched as the enemy in front of him completely disintegrated. He listened to the thunderous cheers of the warriors, heard his name within those cheers. The young King was full of ambtition and pride. He looked toward the setting red sun, laughed out loud, and raised his right hand, seizing the sun in his grasp, then joyfully let out a long, exultant howl.


    "... Passion like overwhelming waves, the red sunlight of hot blood. I, a fine young man, shall rule all directions!!"

 Chapter 447 - 222 Chase – Part 1

    The golden sunlight slanted westward, illuminating the bright red battlefield. The earth was soaked with warmth, and the scent of blood drifted in the wind. Among the vibrant green grass lay tricolored feathers, patterned leather armors, broken long spears, shimmering stone flakes, diagonally inserted feathered arrows, scattered banners... and countless fallen bodies. From a distance, the red battlefield blurred the cruelty, making it seem like a field of flowers blooming in the spring of life¡¯s cycles. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In this spring meadow, tens of thousands of Mexica warriors raised their hands in unison, issuing a victorious cheer. Golden copper spears flickered on the ground, and black war clubs glinted under the sky. Sleek greatbows were tilted upward, and smoking thunderbolts shot straight to the ground. These powerful wild oaths deeply etched themselves in the memory of the veteran militiaman Chiwaco, causing him to shudder involuntarily.


    The capital city¡¯s reinforcements numbered three thousand elite troops, with fifteen hundred samurai. Even though their hearts were not entirely aligned, after the prolonged slaughter, they were about to break through the Toltec defense line. However, at this moment, the ancestral royal banner thunderously fell, and the sacred Keshu tree toppled before their eyes, leaving no hope for anything more!


    The three thousand reinforcements from the capital stood stunned for a few moments, then suddenly erupted in noise. Barbarians, militia, samurai, nobility, priests¡ªall chaotically mixed together; angry roars, disordered cries, faint battle shouts, and intense arguments all suddenly blended into one cacophony.


    The vanguard¡¯s commander, adorned in Hummingbird war clothes, was desperate, his face contorted in a high-pitched roar, still insisting on pushing forward. Many of the great nobility, however, were shaking their heads, demanding an immediate retreat. Soon, one of the nobles cried out with inner panic,


    "The Mexica legion is coming!"


    Everyone looked together only to see the banner of the Black Wolf and the enemy commander¡¯s flag waving. Thousands of Mexica samurai, bearing longbows and wielding war clubs, steadily approached the reinforcements from the royal city.


    Even separated by several miles, the nobles could no longer contain themselves. They turned around, leaving the chaotic ad hoc meeting, and went back to their private forces. The Temple brigade of the rear guard, independently commanded and strictly disciplined, had already turned and set off. Under the leadership of the high priest, they were the first to embark on the northwest return journey.


    Seeing this familiar scene, the veteran militiaman immediately sensed disaster. He jogged a few steps and grabbed his commander, Puap, who was furiously roaring, and urgently whispered,


    "Lord Huitu! The army is collapsing! Get the troops out of here quickly!"


    Puap shouted in anger, but his eyes were filled with confusion. The immortal banner had snapped like a rotten wood, and the most high king had fallen before his very eyes. Decades of worldviews collapsed in an instant, his believing heart suddenly filled with darkness.


    "That¡¯s a Divine Descendant of the king... That¡¯s the incarnation of the Sun God... How could he disappear so easily?... Evil Mexica people!"


    Puap roared again in anger, but his voice was laced with indescribable fear.


    It was now a matter of life and death, with crisis right at hand! The old militiaman erupted with all his might. He looked at Puap, who was still in shock, and couldn¡¯t contain his frustration. If it weren¡¯t for planning the next steps, he would have taken his brothers and fled long ago. With that thought, the old militiaman gritted his teeth and slapped a hand across his face.


    "Slap! My lord, if you don¡¯t leave now, you might as well wait here to die!"


    Puap was struck so hard he saw stars, but clarity finally returned to his eyes. He clutched his stinging cheek and bellowed,


    "Old Chiwaco, how dare you hit me?!"


    Seeing the commander come to his senses, Chiwaco quickly put on a smile and slapped himself across the face.


    "My lord, the sky is practically falling, and you¡¯re just standing there dazed. I did this for your own good! Look, the priests have fled, and the nobles around us are following suit. The fastest rabbit gets the sprouts, and the slowest rabbit gets eaten by the wolf! My lord, we must hurry. Even if we can¡¯t be at the front, we definitely can¡¯t be at the back!"


    Puap looked around. The Mexica troops that blocked the reinforcements were covered in wounds, panting as they defended their ground. The subsequent Mexica legions were still miles away, marching at a normal pace. With the enemy not even in sight, the noble lords had completely lost their will to fight. They screamed loudly, frantically urging their private forces to assemble and turn towards the northwest capital city to flee. And farther away, the priests¡¯ banners were rapidly shrinking.


    "Shameless nobility, incompetent priests!"


    Puap roared out loud. He continued his search and finally saw House of Hummingbird¡¯s commander vigorously shaking the command flag, rallying the family warriors, and the order to advance was... to charge forward?!


    Puap paused for a moment. He subconsciously looked towards Chiwaco, who resolutely shook his head.


    "My lord, charging to the rear at this time is surely a death sentence! Your lord seems to have given up on living. You can¡¯t accompany him in that!"


    "Master, even if we were to surrender, now is definitely not the time! A hunter who catches too many rabbits will choose a few to butcher. After such a prolonged battle, the Mexica have blood in their eyes and have captured so many prisoners, it¡¯s uncertain if they will start a sacrifice! The only way out is to escape, and we must do it now, immediately. Once the real pursuit begins, once the swift Jaguar Warrior Brigade joins in, we will not be able to escape!"


    Upon hearing the name of the Jaguar Warrior Brigade, Puap shuddered, a habit born from childhood fears instilled by terrifying stories. He clenched his teeth and, without looking at the Commander¡¯s assembly order, he turned and barked orders at his samurai.


    "Damn the Mexica!... We¡¯re leaving, back to the Capital City!!"


    With the team leader¡¯s order given, the old militiamen gripped their long spears, leading their brothers and turned northwest to head home. Before departing, he looked south one last time. The sunlight illuminated his aged cheeks but couldn¡¯t penetrate his profound heart. Only a faint sigh, softly dissipating in the wind.


    "This first bean, finally, the debt is repaid!"


    Several hundred steps away, Black Wolf Torc was drenched in blood, breathing heavily. He had been fighting for half a day and was quite exhausted, but his face was filled with a self-satisfied grin. Torc looked across the chaotic enemy lines and saw them retreating, and with an excited wave of his great hand, he gave the order.


    "What a bunch of inexperienced samurai! Soft as clay in one¡¯s hands! Militia scouts, assemble quickly. Watch for my signal, and strike as soon as possible!"


    Having issued his command, Torc finally relaxed and turned back to observe the situation to the south. He watched enviously as the Spear Army waved their broken Royal Banner and listened to the proud and jubilant shouts from afar, cursing under his breath resentfully.


    "That monkey¡¯s lucked out again, stumbling upon the first merit! Looks like he¡¯s set to outdo me once more!"


    Black Wolf¡¯s keen eyes continued to scan the battlefield, then suddenly fixed on a location not far to the southwest. There, over two hundred Imperial Guards were fleeing, led by the Great General known as the Hound. Black Wolf¡¯s spirit lifted sharply, and a torrent of battle intent rose again within his heart.


    "I, Black Wolf Torc, will see who is the true warrior between me and the Hound Yuku! Catching the enemy¡¯s Great General is also a major achievement!"


    Black Wolf excitedly tightened his grip on the longbow. Glancing around, he decisively issued a command.


    "Send up two teams of Longbow Hunters, join me in the pursuit! The rest of the militia scouts, continue pursuing the reinforcements from the Capital City, keep the orders as they are!"


    As he finished speaking, the swift Black Wolf took the lead, taking dozens of trusted aides with him, he charged directly southwest. And within the remaining forces, the veteran scout Necali, covered in blood, yet clenched his bronze axe tightly. He looked at the prey fleeing north, a fierce smile slowly spreading across his face.


    The Copper-axe Guards moved west at great speed, temporarily avoiding the enemy¡¯s pursuit. Su¡¯angua suddenly stopped running. He looked back somberly, silently watching the ancient Royal Banner fall, unable to stop the tears from overflowing in his eyes.


    "The legacy of my ancestors, the bloodline of the Royal Family, the grand Capital City, the great Kingdom... all will be lost by my hand! How can I face going to the Divine Kingdom, to meet the spirits of my forefathers!"


    Yuku paused for a moment, standing beside the King. Only half of his left ear remained, simply wrapped a couple of times in white cloth, complementing the wounded right arm of the King. But such a minor injury could not affect the exceptional samurai, nor could it shake his unwavering will.


    "Your Majesty, as long as you live, there is still hope for the Kingdom! What¡¯s most important now is to retreat southwest, as far as we can go before the Mexica recognize the decoy in your place! Your Majesty, please pull yourself together, we will return!"


    Su¡¯angua nodded solemnly, and said earnestly.


    "Yuku, my loyal Hound! My safety is in your hands!"


    "Your Majesty, I would die for you! As long as I am here, I will never let anyone threaten you. Your Majesty, please go ahead now, and I will cover the rear. I¡¯ll make sure to fall before you do!"


    Yuku knelt down calmly, bowing deeply. Then he stood up, resolutely waving the command flag. Another fifty Imperial Guards turned north, shields raised, forming scattered small formations. With a resolve to die, they faced the incoming Longbow Warriors and the more distant, formidable Head Warrior.


    The Hound stood in place, took a deep breath, and then with a raise of his hand, shot down the two leading enemies with two arrows. Intimidated by the sharp archery, the pursuing Mexica warriors slowed slightly, while the Head Warrior hastened his approach. The Hound shot two more arrows, momentarily suppressing the pursuers¡¯ speed, then turned again, chasing after the King like a running wolf.


    Meanwhile, two miles away, Black Wolf Torc touched the longbow on his back, showing a wide grin. Then, he continued his rapid chase, pursuing the big catch in his mind!

 Chapter 448 - 223 Pursuit Middle

    April¡¯s spring breeze swept past the charging samurai, while the setting sun bathed the flourishing vegetation. Sparse forests stretched long shadows across the plains; tall grasses swayed on the soil, undulating like waves.


    Black Wolf Torc, barefooted, hunched low, and swiftly moved through the tall grass. Excitement sparkled in his eyes as he pursued his prey, followed by a large troop of militia in light armor. The springtide¡¯s tall grass, over a meter high, spread across the barren fields, also concealing the hunters¡¯ figures.


    At this moment, if one listened intently, cheers were continuous, arriving from a distant battlefield, mingled with hymns dedicated to the deities, echoing in the high skies. Below these songs, a wave of low-profile, swiftly moving grass waves, with a rustling sound, swept towards the southwest as if they were a pack of wolves. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    King Su¡¯angua clenched his teeth, relentlessly sprinting across the wilderness like a wounded beast. Fresh blood occasionally seeped from his right arm, staining the cotton bandages red and bringing piercing pain. The young king, drenched in sweat and gasping for air, was carefully supported by two Imperial Guards on either side.


    After running for a long while, Su¡¯angua paused briefly to take a deep breath. The brutal battlefield had now receded far away, replaced by the scent of fresh grass and burgeoning life in the plains. The face of the king no longer showed the despair of defeat, only a more resolute tenacity shaped by setbacks.


    "Yuku, give me another jar of the priest¡¯s strong Divine Water!"


    Upon hearing this, Great General Yuku hesitated slightly. While the potent Divine Water could alleviate pain and reenergize the weary samurai, it often dulled the sharp mind. As a superb warrior, he was not fond of these mysterious potions, but given His Majesty¡¯s current state... Yuku glanced at the sweat on the king¡¯s face and then quietly instructed the Imperial Guard beside him.


    "Bring the Divine Water."


    The Imperial Guard took out a soft cloth bag from the coarse hemp sack and carefully extracted a sealed pottery jar. Yuku took the jar, tasted it lightly, then handed it to the king.


    Su¡¯angua drained the Divine Water in one gulp; its bitter taste lingered in his mouth, but his face instantly lit up with vitality. The potent pain-relieving scopolamine from the tropical American Mandragora flowers, combined with the mentally stimulating muscarine from the northern forest¡¯s fly agaric mushrooms, had swiftly rejuvenated the injured and weary king, transforming him back into a valiant and resilient warrior.


    "Your Majesty, please hold on! The sun is already setting; as soon as it gets dark, the Mexica will have a hard time catching up with us!"


    Yuku, observing the reddening sky, filled his expression with newfound hope.


    Su¡¯angua smiled and nodded, patting the great general¡¯s shoulder. The obstructing warriors couldn¡¯t hold out much longer; they needed to hit the road immediately.


    At that moment, Yuku¡¯s intact right ear twitched slightly, and his expression suddenly changed. He spun around sharply, staring into the northern grassland, then solemnly raised his right hand and whispered a command.


    "Raise shields, be on guard!"


    The Imperial Guards swiftly faced north, assuming a battle stance. Two guards held up great shields, instantly shielding the king in a corner. In just a moment, accompanied by wolf-like howls, a fierce rain of arrows shot through the long grass, striking fiercely from above!


    Black Wolf Torc abruptly stopped. He rose to his full height, drew his greatbow, and released a precise shot! An outpost Imperial Guard instantly dropped his shield, clutched his throat, and fell to the ground bleeding. Then, Torc took a few more steps forward and fiercely locked eyes with Yuku at the center of the military formation. Black Wolf broke into a grin, and at a hundred paces away from the hound, released another lightning-fast arrow!


    "It¡¯s you!"


    Seeing Torc¡¯s face, Yuku¡¯s complexion turned ashen, his heart sinking. The hound did not hesitate, he quickly reached for his longbow, leaped to the left, and nimbly dodged the incoming shot. Then, he swiftly mounted a copper arrow, aimed slightly, and shot back with equal ferocity.


    Black Wolf dodged to the right, evading the whizzing arrows, and nocked another arrow in return. The two continued moving, swirling like autumn leaves in the wind, alternately firing deadly feathered arrows! Over a hundred seasoned tribal Longbow Hunters also arrived shortly after. From a hundred paces away, they exchanged shots with the Copper-axe Guards drawing their bows, and together, they fell bleeding to the ground.


    A precise exchange of fire lasted only two rounds, with each side having over twenty men felled by arrows. Yuku¡¯s expression changed again. He jumped back two steps, surveyed the increasingly numerous enemies and the Head Warriors about to breach their blockade two miles away, and decisively shouted a command.


    "Copper-axe Guards, scatter and charge!"


    Nearly two hundred Imperial Guards roared together. Dropping their longbows and raising their bronze axes, they charged furiously towards the hunters. The front row of hunters managed to release one volley of feathered arrows, shooting down more than a dozen Tarasco warriors before the charging guards broke into their ranks!


    Though the hunters were skilled archers, they were no match for the Imperial Guards in close combat, and their armor was significantly inferior. Where the shiny bronze axes swung, blood sprayed and heads fell. Torc switched to a war club and, after a few moves, killed a troublesome warrior, then saw Yuku leading a dozen Copper-axe Guards, swiftly clearing the blocking militia and charging towards him.


    Black Wolf¡¯s eyelids twitched, his heart quivered, and he immediately turned and fled, shouting repeatedly.


    "The flood is coming, save your lives, run! Pursue with the Wind¡¯s Son, keep the hold fierce!"


    With their leader¡¯s word, the trusted aide hunters skillfully sprinted off, escaping a good two to three hundred steps in one breath. When the Imperial Guards stopped their charge and turned to retreat, the scattered hunters gradually regrouped, shooting arrows at the retreating enemy from afar.


    The lightly armored hunters, excellent in endurance and sprinting, closely followed Black Wolf¡¯s commands, harassing the Imperial Guards¡¯ military formation repeatedly. Whenever the guards turned to charge, they would immediately disperse. After several such cycles over several miles, the Longbow Hunters had lost nearly two hundred of their number, and the Imperial Guards had casualties nearing half.


    "A pack of cowardly hyenas!"


    Yuku stood between sparse trees, gazing at the "wolf pack" hanging behind. His face was filled with rage, his eyes ablaze. The Sun God was about to sink into the abyss, and the setting sun thoroughly dyed the clouds in the sky, adding much deep red to the path ahead in the west. The pursuing hunters had not scattered, preventing the imperial guards from sprinting at full speed, while a large force of pursuers had already broken through the barricades and was accelerating towards them!


    Great General Yuku howled skyward, sighing deeply. He knelt on one knee before the king, then bowed deeply to his left and right, sincerely addressing the imperial guards.


    "My loyal brothers, if the Divine Eagle of Tarasco is to survive, we must offer more sacrifices to the three gods! For the survival of the royal family, for the nourishment of generations, for the loyalty of the imperial guard warriors, please stay here, strive to hold until nightfall. After dark, you can freely choose your own paths!"


    Upon witnessing this parting scene, Su¡¯angua closed his eyes. The young king covered his face with his left hand, letting tears slide down his cheek.


    The remaining hundred Copper-axe Guards looked at each other then, their faces filled with resolve to die. They knelt down one after another, kowtowing to the supreme king, then saluting the respected great general. Then, these last elite warriors of Tarasco turned decisively, picked up the great shields, and moved to meet the encroaching enemy.


    Yuku remained silent for several breaths, then spoke in a grave voice.


    "Your Majesty, we should hurry on our way!"


    Su¡¯angua nodded silently and, supported by the last two imperial guards, continued their escape toward the southwest, towards the direction of hopeful vitality.


    The whistling bone arrows shot through the air and hit the sturdy great shields, creating a dull "thud." The elite imperial guards used the sparse trees to form a loose formation, covering for each other. A squad of overly bold hunters rushed into the woods, but in just a short period, they were chopped down by the steadfast Copper-axe Guards.


    Black Wolf Torc furrowed his brows. He looked toward the enemy¡¯s lines, where the enemy¡¯s great general was no longer visible. He then looked to the sky, where the sunset spread a red glow over everything, like a generous promise from the War God. Gritting his teeth, Torc looked back at the leading head Warrior, then shouted to those nearby.


    "I, Torc, have pursued for so long, I cannot let the prey escape before my eyes! You all stay here, exchange fire with the enemy, and follow the commands of the Eagle Warrior! Now, the brave Black Wolf will personally strike, to capture the cunning hound for the Wolf King!"


    Having said this, Black Wolf Torc did not wait for his trusted aides to advise him and took a deep breath before sprinting away rapidly. His speed, exceeding that of an ordinary man, allowed him to bypass the enemy¡¯s front and suddenly dive into the sparse woods. The mottled shadows flashed under his feet, the dark red sky reflecting into his eyes. Black Wolf reveled in the wind in his dash, chasing the fleeing opponent on his own, regardless of the opponent¡¯s strength!


    Less than a quarter later, Head Warrior Bertade led several hundred elite warriors and hastily arrived nearby. He observed the imperial guards defending in the woods, paused to think, then waved a small flag, pointing to both left and right sides. The Mexica warriors immediately split into two groups, utilizing their numerical advantage to flank the enemy¡¯s wings. Then, the head Warrior looked around the loose arrangement of hunters and asked aloud.


    "Torc? Where did Torc go?"


    "Respected chieftain, the Black Wolf lord just left the troops from the south, circumventing the path, and went alone to pursue the enemy¡¯s leader!"


    A tribal chief kowtowed and respectfully answered.


    "What? Pursuing the hound alone!"


    Bertade suddenly turned pale with anger and cursed, unusually vocal.


    "Abandoning the legion, casting life and death aside, an unworrying whelp! When he catches up to the enemy¡¯s great general, who is hunting whom might not even be clear!"


    Black Wolf was someone he had personally promoted, the most outstanding talent among the civilian followers, and he was always favored by His Highness, integral to long-term plans... Thinking this, Bertade gritted his teeth and made a decisive call. He shouted a command to his deputy.


    "Take command here! Break through the remaining enemy, spare none!"


    After that, the Head Warrior carried his longbow, directly abandoning the pursuing aides, and rushed into the woods bypassing the battlefield like a ferocious beast. He quickly found the traces of movement in the woods and hastened to follow them.


    Meanwhile, at the end of the long trail, Yuku again stopped and looked up to the feathered arrows disappearing into the trees. He subtly gestured to the two imperial guards to protect the king well, then turned around again. The supreme warrior¡¯s expressions were as deep as a dark, endless lake, intensely watching the Black Wolf who was pursuing him.


    From a hundred paces away, Torc swayed his longbow, his face filled with excitement and he grinned widely with delight.


    "Yuku, I, Torc, have finally caught up to you! Don¡¯t run anymore, let us settle who is the bravest warrior once and for all!"


    Yuku¡¯s face was like a sculpture, silent. He paused for a moment, took out a jar of Divine Water from his chest, ripped off the sealed pottery lid, and drank it all for the first time. Then, an abnormal crimson flush appeared on his face, as tremendous strength rapidly surged throughout his body.


    Feeling the sudden vitality and an incomprehensible excitement, the hound finally couldn¡¯t help revealing a predatory sneer before the hunt!

 Chapter 449 - 224 Pursuit End

    The setting sun pierced through the gaps in the forest, casting spotty shadows; a gentle breeze blew across the treetops¡¯ small leaves, playing a rustling, sandy sound. At this moment, as birds had flown afar and beasts fell silent, in this world of interwoven light and shadow, only two people faced each other with a chilling intention to kill.


    The silent stare lasted but for a few breaths. Black Wolf Torc was the first to bend down and toss his longbow at his feet. Then, with his right hand, he took out his bronze axe, and with his left fist pressed to his chest, he shouted across to the other side.


    "Blessed by the War God Huitzilopochtli! I, the warrior from Tepanecapan, ¡¯Black Wolf¡¯ Torc, challenge ¡¯Hound¡¯ Yuku of Qinchongcan to a duel!"


    Hearing the formal challenge, Hound Yuku¡¯s eyes flashed. He nodded slightly, stepped forward a few paces, and then suddenly drew his bow, firing a swift arrow that he was best at!


    In the instant of life and death, Torc was suddenly shocked. His reactions were incredibly fast; he swiftly dodged, and the copper arrow grazed past his hair like a bolt of death¡¯s lightning, "whooshing" over his head and then "thud" embedded in a tree. A surge of raging fury rose from Black Wolf¡¯s heart, and as he bent to retrieve his bow and arrows, he roared angrily.


    "You!..."


    "Qinchongcan¡¯s warrior, ¡¯Hound¡¯ Yuku, challenges ¡¯Black Wolf¡¯ Torc to a duel!"


    The arrow had missed its mark, and Hound Yuku¡¯s eyes gleamed again. Only then did he speak aloud, discarding his longbow, following suit with the ritual of a duel.


    "This arrow is to pay back for your previous pursuit!"


    At these words, Torc¡¯s movements paused. He narrowed his eyes, took in the calm, statue-like Yuku, then slowly straightened up and gripped the bronze axe in his hands more firmly.


    "Let the divine spirits be our witness; let the sacred duel decide who the strongest warrior is!"


    Yuku nodded. He drew his spear, gave it a slight shake in his hand. The sharp bronze point, as if endowed with spirit, traced agile paths in the air, as the peerless samurai began to run with small, rapid steps.


    Torc took a rattan shield from behind and gripped it lightly with the four fingers of his left hand, slanting it in front of him. Then, raising his right arm with the war club¡¯s tip pointing backward, he coiled his strength without releasing it, and likewise started racing forward at a rapid pace.


    The distance of a hundred steps was closed in an instant! Yuku¡¯s gaze was icy as he took a leaping step forward, plunging his spear viciously toward Black Wolf¡¯s waist and abdomen. Facing the fierce thrust, Torc¡¯s body bowed slightly like a reed, swayed to the side in a light dodge, then raised his left arm with the shield for defense, and his right arm swiftly chopped forward, his war club striking at the hound¡¯s spear-wielding left arm.


    Yuku made an agile leap, his left wrist loosened and then recoiled, while his right hand shot forward. The spear, like a star picker, dazzled, as the golden copper spear aimed straight for the Black Wolf¡¯s neck. The tip of the spear shimmered with cold light. Torc squinted his eyes and swiftly raised his shield to guard, then pivoted his body and chopped forward. The obsidian blades of his war club glided down the shaft of the spear, poised to sever his opponent¡¯s right hand! Yuku reacted instantly with another sideways leap!


    Su¡¯angua watched intently from a distance, his gaze unblinking, his expression exceptionally tense.


    The hunting dog¡¯s spear weaved like a dragon, never straying from vital targets; the Black Wolf¡¯s club was like a gust of wind, arriving in the blink of an eye. The two top-tier samurai - quick as falcons, masterful and precise to the utmost degree - advanced and retreated, attacked and defended with agile, strong bodies and simple, accurate movements. Their weapons had yet to clash even once, but their bodies were constantly dancing on the edge of life and death!


    This was a duel between a wolf and a dog! This art-like battle represented the pinnacle of martial arts. The rapid exhaustion of mental and physical energy, where a single mistake could welcome a fatal strike from the opponent. After just two or three minutes, both the hunting dog and the Black Wolf began to tire, their chests heaving slightly, breathing heavily.


    The thrill of life and death made one¡¯s scalp tingle with heat, and the self-forgetting struggle brought comfort to the entire body! In the midst of the fierce battle, Torc¡¯s eyes grew brighter. He smiled slightly, savoring the pleasure of fighting with his opponent. Within a close distance of two steps, Yuku¡¯s face turned red, but his eyes were filled with murderous intent. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Startled by the movement through the forest, a sharp red bird burst into flight not far from the north, chirping as it flew across the sky. The incomparable warrior glanced briefly, his expression unchanged, but he made his decision in his heart! He slightly crouched, holding the spear horizontally in both hands, and lunged forward once more, aiming for the chest and abdomen of the Black Wolf!


    Torc concentrated fully, his eyes tracking his opponent¡¯s swift movements and shifts in form. Yuku was the strongest adversary he had ever encountered, and this duel was the greatest challenge he had ever faced! Facing the familiar thrust, the Black Wolf once again pivoted to the side and raised his shield, the war club lifted diagonally, ready to strike down!


    This time, the hunting dog Yuku did not dodge at all. He let out a fierce shout, and his spear pierced the rattan shield for the first time. Then, with force, he thrusted it upward, forcing the Black Wolf to abandon his shield. Next, he dropped the spear with both hands and continued to advance, closing within a step of the Black Wolf. His left fist shot out swiftly, striking the opponent¡¯s lower jaw, while his right hand reached for the bronze axe at his waist, ready for a deadly chop!


    The spear thrust forward, and with a forceful deflection, the Black Wolf was compelled to release his grip, a shock flashing through his heart. He tilted his head to dodge a close-range punch, but his eyes fell on the opponent¡¯s waist. In the split second of lightning-fast reflex, Torc had no time to think. He relied purely on a warrior¡¯s instinct, exerting all his strength to charge forward, violently colliding with hunting dog Yuku.


    "Bang!" Both stepped forward and collided fiercely. Yuku¡¯s right hand grasped the axe handle, but the Black Wolf¡¯s left hand had grabbed it too. Torc swung his right fist, punching the opponent¡¯s midsection, and immediately felt a pain at his own waist. Then, the two head-butted, fighting fiercely, and with a "bang," they collided again!


    Torc shook his head vigorously, dizzy from the direct blow. He held down the opponent¡¯s right hand that gripped the axe, and his own right knee drove into a knee strike, which Yuku forcefully returned. A strong knee impact hit the back of the thigh, causing muscle spasms and an immediate loss of balance. The intense close-quarters struggle lasted but a breath, and both men soon shook, entangling and tumbling to the ground, then wrestling like wild beasts once again.


    "You go, help the Great General kill his opponent!"


    Su¡¯angua¡¯s eyes widened as he anxiously watched the two samurai engaged in close combat. He pressed on his aching right arm and shouted at the last two Imperial Guards with a stern voice.


    "Go, kill him! Forget about the duel!"


    The two Copper-axe Guards hesitated briefly but then responded in unison. Their expressions fierce, they drew their bronze axes from their waists and headed towards the battlefield a hundred steps away.


    "Ha!"


    The hound Yuku¡¯s face was blood-red as he pinned Black Wolf firmly beneath him. Thanks to the potion, he temporarily maintained more abundant strength. His left hand slowly choked Black Wolf by the neck, while his right hand gradually broke free from the other¡¯s grasp, slowly yet resolutely drawing his bronze axe!


    The sharp edge of the axe glinted with a murderous cold light, and its smooth copper surface reflected a chilling smile. Black Wolf Torc¡¯s face was swollen red, but his eyes shone bright like stars. He tried to protect his neck with his right hand, struggling to keep breathing, his left hand still desperately clinging to Yuku¡¯s right wrist, resisting the approach of death.


    Faced with Black Wolf¡¯s last struggle, Yuku, who was usually indifferent, showed a trace of cruel pity on his face. He shook his head slightly and pressed down hard with the bronze axe, bringing death closer and closer to his opponent¡¯s chest! The sharp chill pierced the skin, bringing a hair-raising coolness. Black Wolf clenched his teeth, feeling the call of the Divine Kingdom becoming clearer and finally, a look of despair appeared in his eyes.


    "Whiz!!" A swift bolt of lightning suddenly struck, bringing with it a howling wind! It "pfft" pierced through the sturdy leather armor, and then "hiss," buried deeply into the soft body. Fresh blood instantly spattered, taking away the warrior¡¯s exceptional life force.


    "Uh... ah...!"


    The warm liquid dripped down like a spring, flowing over the cold bronze axe, landing on Black Wolf¡¯s barely scratched skin. For the first time, the blood of two top warriors mingled together, their formidable lives about to be decided by life or death. Black Wolf¡¯s spirit surged, and in that moment, the hand choking his neck suddenly loosened, the strength pinning him down promptly dissipated. He immediately exerted his power, pushing Yuku away, and then quickly rolled twice, swiftly jumping up from the ground.


    "Whiz!!" Another feathered arrow shot through the air like lightning! The copper arrow was extremely accurate, hissing as it passed through the throat. A dozen steps away, an Imperial Guard¡¯s eyes suddenly widened, a "heh-heh" sound from his mouth, as he fell backward, dead.


    Black Wolf Torc half-squatted, gasping for air in huge gulps. He turned his head back warily, only to see, eighty steps away, a weathered and familiar face, looking over with concern. Upon seeing this, Black Wolf couldn¡¯t help but bare his teeth, revealing a brilliant smile of someone who had survived an ordeal.


    "Go... hurry!... Take him away!!"


    The hound Yuku lay on the cold mud, his life¡¯s warmth continually ebbing away from his wound. That previous arrow was exceptionally precise and powerful, deeply stabbing into his lower back, and in an instant, taking away all his strength. The pain from his innards twisted his eyebrows, his body convulsing continuously. However, the loyal Great General still looked towards the last Imperial Guard, struggling to issue his final command.


    "No! Yuku, my hound!!"


    Su¡¯angua stood still in the shadow of a shrub, crying out in despair, tears brimming in his eyes. He watched Yuku lying not far away, bathed in the golden-red light of the setting sun. The red of death flowed out from beneath the hound, rapidly spreading across the ground, pooling into a shallow puddle. The familiar bloodstain was so vivid, accompanied by the red twilight, it entered the King¡¯s vision and also veiled his sky, as if the red kingdom had descended.


    "Go!!"


    Hearing the King¡¯s cry, the Great General Yuku turned his head with effort. He didn¡¯t care to look at the enemy who had given him the fatal blow, only trying to open his eyes wide, using all his strength to let out his last call from his torn lungs.


    "Whiz!" Another deadly arrow came flying. The last Imperial Guard flipped over, falling to the ground, struggling weakly on the mud. His body rolled out the last traces, like a cocoa tree that had fallen in the forest.


    The young King turned around dazedly and stumbled into the woods. At sunrise, he led tens of thousands of troops with endless confidence and hope, heading for the majestic Capital City; and as the sunset fell, he was left alone, desperately dragging his wounded body, escaping into the deep and dark jungle.


    Black Wolf Torc¡¯s eyes widened, sniffing the air in confusion. He saw the last wounded Imperial Guard staggering away. Looking closely, the familiar figure, that familiar profile, always gave a sense of recognition, just like, just like... Black Wolf¡¯s eyes suddenly widened. He leapt up from the ground with a shout of extreme excitement.


    "The big fish, the real big fish!"


    Black Wolf Torc quickly bent down, picking up the bronze axe that had nearly killed him. Then, pressing his left hand over the wound in his chest, not even bothering to dress it, he chased after the fleeing King like the wind.


    Watching this, the hound Yuku closed his eyes in despair and pain. His life had only moments left, even the most valiant samurai was destined to enter the eternal world of the deceased.


    The wind rustled, leaves whispered. Bertade, carrying a longbow, quickly stepped out from the woods. He came silently in front of the hound, watching the fierce rival about to leave this world. Drenched in sunset, red birds sang at the edge of the sky, their clear voices like the illusions of boyhood dreams.


    "Haha! I, Black Wolf Torc, have caught the King of Tarasco!! I, Torc, am the most peerless warrior!!!..."


    The long wind rolled, bringing with it a profoundly satisfying laughter, and the joyful shouts of triumph. Great General Yuku opened his eyes once again, tears falling from the corners.


    "Yuku, you are a worthy opponent, leave your last words!"


    The Head Warrior, holding a short dagger at his side, squatted down, looking at the dying warrior.


    "... I am a loyal hound, dying before my master... That¡¯s the bygone Kingdom, the bygone legion... the bygone... people of Prepetcha..."


    Great General Yuku¡¯s eyes widened as he murmured. Delusions at the edge of death brought a smile to his face once more; he looked towards the most majestic sky under the sunset, and into his dreams, the life without regrets. In the crimson sky, there was a red kingdom. In the red kingdom lay a bygone land.

 Chapter 450 - 225: The White Deer and the Homeward Journey

    The setting sun had dripped like bright red cocoa into the darkening sky, leaving only a trace of afterglow in the western heavens. Bertade squatted beside Yuku¡¯s gradually chilling corpse, silently staring for a long while. Familiar memories surged into his mind once more, filling his eyes, painting a layer of deeper profundity in the Head Warrior¡¯s weathered pupils.


    "Such is the fate of a Samurai, inescapable for anyone..."


    Bertade gazed at the smile of the hound, murmuring softly. After a moment, he gently shook his head and reached out to close Yuku¡¯s widely opened eyes. Then, the Head Warrior drew the sharp Obsidian Stone Dagger from his belt and slowly extended it, pressing it to the hound¡¯s neck... He needed to bring back a token to report to His Highness. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Haha! Dear respected Head Eagle Warrior, look who I have caught!!"


    Loud laughter emanated from not far inside the forest, reaching them quickly. Bertade looked up to see Black Wolf Torc with his arms firmly interlocked, carrying a young warrior dressed in Imperial Guards attire on his shoulder, excitedly striding towards him.


    By the last light on the horizon, the Head Warrior scrutinized carefully. The warrior¡¯s hair was disheveled, his hands and feet firmly bound with hemp rope, and his mouth stuffed with cotton, "mmm-mmm"ing in struggle on Black Wolf¡¯s shoulder. At that moment, he appeared like a deer caught by the Mexica Samurai!


    "This is...?"


    Bertade brushed back the young warrior¡¯s disheveled hair, noted the fiery pride in his eyes; then, he pinched the warrior¡¯s chin, forcing his mouth open to check his unblemished, white teeth; finally, he pulled open the warrior¡¯s collar, scanned his pampered, pale neck, and the red bloodstains on it... Thinking back to the hound¡¯s behavior before death... a look of incredulous shock finally appeared on the Head Warrior¡¯s face.


    "Could this be...?!"


    "Yes, I recognized his face! This is the King of Tarasco, Prepetcha¡¯s Cazonci, the most sacred hunt of my life, and the white deer specifically requested by His Highness, King Su¡¯angua!"


    Black Wolf Torc was radiant with excitement, his eyes nearly blazing. He carefully bent down, handing over the futilely struggling Su¡¯angua to the Head Warrior.


    "Dear respected Head Eagle Warrior, your teachings in Martial Arts, your endorsement of my talents, and saving my life today!... This sacred hunt, I offer it to you to present to His Highness!"


    Upon hearing this, Bertade was slightly taken aback. He gazed at Torc¡¯s sincere eyes for a while, then beamed with gratification.


    "Torc, this is His Highness¡¯s white deer, and also the most sacred Sacrifice of the entire western campaign! Once we deliver him to the Capital City in the Lake, all the Elder Priests, all the people of the Capital City, the entire Mexica Alliance, even the whole world, will be set ablaze! And you, you will become the most legendary, epic warrior known across the lands!... Torc, are you truly willing to forego this credit?"


    Hearing about being known across the lands, a deep longing emerged on Torc¡¯s face. He tugged at his hair, troubled and thinking for a good while before he hesitantly started to speak, embarrassedly stammering.


    "Ah, this...honorable Head Eagle Warrior, could we possibly present this hunt together..."


    Bertade laughed heartily. He watched the young man¡¯s simple and resolute face, increasingly certain that this was indeed his most suitable successor... The Head Warrior¡¯s mind raced, but he just smiled and said.


    "Black Wolf, you personally captured Su¡¯angua! This is your achievement, I surely won¡¯t take it, nor do I need it... But indeed, you cannot keep all the credit for yourself. The Spear regiments of Kuluka and Ezpan suffered the greatest casualties, breaking the enemy lines head-on. According to His Highness¡¯s considerations, the credit for capturing the King was initially reserved for them... Moreover, these two Great Generals, like us, also come from commoner backgrounds; you should get closer to them in the future..."


    The whistling of the wind scattered the whispers in the forest, turning them into its moaning. Lying on the cold mud, Su¡¯angua watched himself being deliberated over as a hunt, his heart swallowed by shameful rage. He arched his legs, struggling forcefully on the ground, emitting "mm-mmm" cries. Then, he saw the familiar head of the hound, hanging by another Mexica Samurai¡¯s waist, still bearing the smile from before death.


    "Mm! Mm-mm! Mm-mmm!!"


    The King¡¯s moaning cries had eventually stirred the two conversing men. Blood dripped from the King¡¯s neck along with large, warm tears.


    "Is his neck injured?"


    "Just some skin broke. The Eagle of Tarasco does indeed have a fierce spirit, much more so than that cowardly Crocodile who resisted briefly when I approached him, and seeing himself overpowered, he immediately pulled out a Copper Dagger to commit suicide. It was just that his arm was injured, slowing his movements..."


    "We need to bandage that. Such a sacred Sacrifice, never before seen in the history of the Alliance, must be kept alive to be delivered to the Capital City in the Lake!"


    As Bertade spoke, he bent down. With a swift motion, the Head Warrior delivered a precise hook punch to Su¡¯angua¡¯s jaw. The intense pain signals transmitted by dense nerves and the imbalance in the cerebellum connected to the trigeminal nerve instantly made the young King roll his eyes back, fiercely stopping his struggles and completely passing out on the ground. The Head Warrior nodded in satisfaction, his skills in capturing still sharp. Then, the two of them quickly bandaged Su¡¯angua¡¯s wounds and cautiously carried the precious "white deer" out of the forest and into the open.

 Chapter 451 - 225: The White Deer and the Homeward Journey_2

    The clash in the outskirts of the forest was drawing to a close. Under the encirclement of superior forces and precise archery, almost all the Copper-axe Guards fighting the rear guard had perished. Only a very few managed to escape into the perilous forest under the cover of the dim night. The Mexica Samurai lit torches and divided into groups of dozens, scattering throughout the woods to search. It was not until the two Commanders appeared before them, Bertade holding the head of a hunting hound aloft, that the warriors of the Alliance burst into enthusiastic cheers together!


    The Head Warrior loudly ordered the Samurai to regroup, then called over his deputy and whispered a few sentences to him. Shortly thereafter, a group of trusted aides came discreetly forward to take over the unconscious Su¡¯angua. The Black Wolf himself took charge, vigilantly standing guard beside him. The army then set out on their journey, with the unconscious King of Tarasco hanging his head low, being carried out of the woods on someone¡¯s back.


    A dim moon rose from the East, illuminating the layered corpses in front of the tree line. All the bronze axes from the bodies had been taken, leaving behind only the torn Leather Armor and deep blood stains on the ground. The wind blew eerily through the treetops, and the night owl called out softly. It opened its round eyes wide, sniffing the scent of death on the ground. The formidable Imperial Guard Legion of Tarasco had thus silently perished here, forever hidden in the depths of the forest!


    As the night grew deeper, hundreds of warriors carried their torches, hurriedly heading north into the vast plains with their prey. Bertade gazed into the distance; the layered shadows covered the land, obscuring the traces of the day¡¯s conflict. And thousands of torches flickered across the plains like stars in the sky. Amidst the dense constellation, the cries of the Samurai intersected nonstop.


    The army had not traveled far before a large group of Samurai approached from the opposite direction, greeting them from afar.


    "Is this the battalion of the Divine Eagle¡¯s Head Warrior?"


    "Indeed! Which legion are you from?"


    "I am the deputy commander of Iskali, the hereditary noble from Tenochtitlan, and Cazonci of the Southern Army vanguard! His Excellency, the godlike warrior, sent us to carefully clear the battlefield and to meet you as well, the brave Divine Eagle¡¯s Head Warrior!"


    As they conversed, both parties drew closer. Bertade subtly signaled, and the Black Wolf concealed the prey at the core of the legion. Then, the Head Warrior stepped forward with a smile to the front of the formation.


    "Where is Marshal Iskali?"


    The responding Cazonci, dust-stained and athletic in build, wore a face filled with the joy of victory.


    "A great triumph! The illustrious one has set up his command tent at the edge of the northern battlefield. The Commander himself has already presented himself to His Excellency! The army just finished reorganizing, and the celebration feast is about to start shortly!"


    Bertade glanced at the joy on Cazonci¡¯s face and nodded to himself. He then looked around and asked in a solemn voice.


    "The plain is filled with torches, why are there so many troops clearing the battlefield?"


    "Ha! The captive King of Tarasco caught by the army was merely a red parrot, while the true eagle is nowhere to be found. His Excellency stormed with rage, deploying us, the fresh reinforcements, to scour the mountains and forests, vowing to find the King dead or alive!... Ah, I wonder which squad will be favored by the gods to capture the greatest trophy of the western campaign!"


    The noble Cazonci chuckled, his face showing a look of envy, while his eyes revealed a greedy yearning. Suddenly, he seemed to think of something, looking at Bertade with a smile.


    "Divine Eagle¡¯s Head Warrior, what were the results of your chase?"


    Bertade¡¯s eyes flickered slightly. He nodded with a smile and pointed to the head at his waist, saying simply.


    "I have completed the mission given by His Excellency."


    Cazonci looked at the head¡¯s face, the greed in his eyes flashing by. He then looked admiringly at the Head Warrior.


    "I too have heard that the hound Yuku was an unparalleled warrior! To have killed such an opponent, you truly deserve the title bestowed upon you by His Highness, the Head Eagle Warrior! Some in the Southern Army still doubt you, but in my eyes, your title is undoubtedly well-earned!"


    Bertade smiled and nodded in thanks for Coyote¡¯s praise. He gestured for the legion to continue marching, and then conversed quietly with Coyote, who was marching beside him.


    "For the vanguard of the Southern Army to arrive in time was indeed no easy feat!"


    "Indeed. We traveled for two weeks by canoe, then landed in the south. Everyone was tired and hungry, with a severe shortage of food and supplies. Fortunately, the Tarasco nobility were easily defeated, with no leader to speak of. The army plundered for a while, gathered enough food to head north, and then immediately heeded His Highness¡¯s call, hastening day and night!"


    "His Highness often tells us that Marshal Iskali is a true hero, a tiger and leopard who revels in battle, and never disappoints!"


    "Haha! The commander also tells us that His Highness is invincible in battle, a true scion of the Royal Family! Today¡¯s epic battle saw His Highness defeat the Royal Army of Tarasco head-on. The Mexica Divine Eagle shall henceforth soar into the skies, while the mighty eagle of Tarasco will forever have its wings clipped. From now on, in the hearts of the nobility and samurai of the Alliance, His Highness will be like the real sun, rising gently from the East!"


    Listening to such a description, Bertade wore a smile on his face but felt a chill in his heart. He turned his head to look at the middle-aged noble beside him. Coyote, implying deep significance with his gaze, extended his right arm and made a fist. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Alliance places the highest value on military merit! On behalf of the hereditary nobility of Tenochtitlan, and as Clan Leader of the Coyote Clan, I salute the great His Highness! Please convey the Coyote Clan¡¯s most esteemed greetings to His Highness. The line of the High Priest has always been our most sincere friend!"


    In the Nava language, "Coyote" signifies a yellow coyote. Such a hereditary name symbolizes a clan that coexists with the Alliance, one that is rooted deeply in the Lake Capital City and never hastily reveals their stance. But now, they finally bowed to His Highness.


    Bertade observed for a moment and a perfect smile gradually emerged on his face. He nodded deeply and gripped the other¡¯s arm with a strong handshake.


    "The nascent sun cannot be without the grandeur of the Lake Capital City. The Coyote Clan is rooted in the Capital City..."


    "Naturally so..."


    The two continued to walk, conversing in low tones, enjoying each other¡¯s company. Laughter faintly carried far into the heart of the formation. Black Wolf looked up, confusedly gazing in the direction of the Head Warrior. Purely a warrior, who had only recently entered into the ranks of the commanders, he knew little of politics. After listening for a moment, the Black Wolf boredly scratched his head and looked at the "White Deer" they had captured, opening his mouth to a content smile.


    As night fell, clouds drifted from afar, deepening the shadow over the land. Great fires lit up the plains, and raucous voices carried from a distance. Black Wolf looked toward the sound, noting the patrols growing denser, revealing a vast camp before everyone¡¯s eyes.


    Within the camp at that moment, tens of thousands of warriors sang with abandon amidst tumultuous noise! Occasionally, some would leap into celebratory war dances, shouting the names of gods and His Highness, their voices filled with the joy of a great victory. The warm night breeze blew, stirring the bonfires to dance, and maize cakes seasoned with chili roasted on the fire, filling the air with an enticing aroma.


    As the army returned to camp, the warriors dispersed, and the leaders proceeded forward, soon arriving at the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s grand tent. With Coyote looking on in surprise, Black Wolf, carrying the sacred "White Deer," was the first to lift the tent flap and stride in.


    A fresh breeze blew through the entrance, stirring the bright bonfires, and instantly, the clamor in the tent paused, drawing all eyes to the entrance. His Highness sat majestically in the central seat, his demeanor ever more profound and imperiously calm. Behind His Highness stood a row of armor-clad trusted aides, with ferocious generals on either side. Beside the main seat, a middle-aged warrior with high cheekbones and a stern expression sat cross-legged.


    Black Wolf Torc raised his head proudly, surveying the assembly of generals, then glanced with disdain at the downcast monkey Kuluka. He stepped forward, laid the unconscious Su¡¯angua in the center of the large tent, and, ignoring the scrutinous or speculative glances of the generals, he cried out confidently.


    "I, Black Wolf Torc, offer to the supreme His Highness the most sacred quarry¡ªthe King of Tarasco, Cazonci Su¡¯angua!"


    "Congratulations on His Highness¡¯s great victory! I am Your Highness¡¯s Black Wolf, and just as I have brought you the hunt¡¯s White Deer from Tarasco, I will sweep clean the world for you!"

 Chapter 452 - Two Hundred and Twenty-Six: Proposing a Toast

    Accompanied by Toltec¡¯s loud shout, the tent fell silent in an instant. The warm night wind swept through, the central bonfire flickered, illuminating the surprised faces of the generals, and lighting up the unconscious Tarasco King lying on the ground. Everyone¡¯s gaze turned simultaneously, surveying the captured "White Deer" and also gazing at the proud Black Wolf.


    Upon hearing Black Wolf¡¯s words, Xiulote¡¯s eyes sparkled, and he instantly rose to his feet. He first smiled, nodding in approval toward Black Wolf. Then, he glanced at the Head Warrior at the entrance, his gaze briefly resting on Yuku¡¯s head, and sighed softly in his heart. Lastly, the young King took two steps forward, coming to the center of the tent, looked down at the captive¡¯s face, and issued an order solemnly.


    "Summon the Sky Family Head, General Oorta, who is with the army at once; also call for the Crocodile Family Head, General Ospa, from the rear camp."


    Two trusted aides immediately departed, and the tent continued to maintain its solemn silence. The Highness in the middle remained thoughtful and silent, while Marshal Iskali also stood up. He walked slowly to Xiulote¡¯s side, gazing at the "White Deer" on the ground, his eyes filled with complex anticipation.


    The long night breeze stirred the tent, bringing a rustling sound, as if it were everyone¡¯s heartbeat, making the brief silence feel prolonged. Soon, the young Sky Family Head hurried over, arriving first. As he entered the tent and saw His Highness in the center, he immediately prostrated himself in salute, praising reverently.


    "Congratulations on Your Highness¡¯ great victory! You are the true Divine Eagle, dominating the ¡¯Sky¡¯ of Tarasco!"


    At these words, Xiulote gave a faint smile. He gestured for Oorta to come closer, then pointed to the ground.


    "Oorta, take a good look. Who is he?"


    The young Oorta obediently bent down. He examined the blood-stained captive, a moment of confusion crossing his face. He looked inquiringly at His Highness before taking out a handkerchief, wiping the dirt and blood from the captive¡¯s face. Oorta looked closely for a while, and suddenly realizing something, he opened his mouth in surprise, the handkerchief falling from his hands.


    "Ah, he, he... could he possibly be...?" Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The generals¡¯ gazes converged on him, bringing an overwhelming pressure like a mountain. Iskali¡¯s gaze was stern; he stepped forward and grabbed Oorta¡¯s collar, demanding sharply.


    "Is he the Tarasco King? Are you sure?"


    The young Oorta was flustered, his complexion panicked. He initially nodded subconsciously, then shook his head in confusion, unable to speak out.


    At that moment, the tent flaps were opened again. Accompanied by two guards, a tall and robust figure, slightly hunched, unarmed, stepped quickly into the tent from the outside. Ospa¡¯s complexion was grim, he half-lowered his head, swiftly scanning the situation in the tent. Then, his face turned instantly pale, his movements halted abruptly, and he stared wide-eyed in shock. The Crocodile Marshal rushed out two steps, and threw himself upon Su¡¯angua¡¯s body, tears streaming from his eyes.


    "Your Majesty!..."


    Ospa cried out in pain. He shook Su¡¯angua¡¯s body, trying to grasp something, but there was nothing to hold onto.


    Xiulote raised his hand to stop the guards from drawing their weapons. His eyes shone brightly, and he patted Ospa on the shoulder, asking in a deep voice.


    "Ospa, are you certain he is Su¡¯angua?"


    Ospa lifted his head, looking toward the majestic Highness, and nodded in despair.


    "Yes... Your Majesty... he is the King of Tarasco, the bloodline of the contemporary Divine Eagle."


    "Hahaha! Awooo! Roar!"


    The generals erupted in an instant, shouting loudly, and thunderous cheers finally exploded within the command tent! The faces of the Samurai overflowed with irrepressible excitement, and Toltec even spread his arms, howling like a Coyote.


    Xiulote nodded with a smile, as the old general Etalik blew the loud flute. The generals stood up to the sound of the flute, saluting His Highness in unison. Then, the Samurai raised their weapons in their hands, roaring in unison! The shouting turned into earth-shaking howls, the wild cries a staggering force, forming an unstoppable power!


    In the frenetic tent, Iskali fell silent for a moment, then lowered his head, saluting His Highness with solemnity. Oorta¡¯s legs weakened, collapsing powerlessly to the ground. He was unable to utter a word, only able to kneel at the feet of His Highness.


    After the moment of uproar, monkey Kuluka raised his right fist, the first to shout the slogan,


    "Long live His Highness! Great victory in the Western campaign!"


    "Long live His Highness! Great victory in the Western campaign!"


    The generals roared in chorus.


    "Divine blessing to the King! Blessing to His Highness of Divine Revelation!"


    "Divine blessing to the King! Blessing to His Highness of Divine Revelation!"


    The generals saluted again.


    Xiulote stood proudly in the midst of the tent. He looked at the many valiant warriors with their heads bowed before him, his heart brimming with joy as if drinking a refreshingly sweet spring water during the height of summer, also feeling a tipsy comfort. The young King laughed heartily and slowly raised his hand; the uproar immediately ceased.


    "Pour the drinks!"


    Xiulote took the cup, looking around at the generals. Wherever his gaze fell, the Samurai all bowed their heads. Finally, he looked at Iskali, the senior Mexica Marshal who also stepped back, bowing in honor.


    "The first cup, to honor the Chief Divine! Praise Our God!"


    "Praise Our God!"


    The faint taste of Tequila lingered in the mouth, cool with a hint of bitterness, and also carrying the unique flavor of the "Cactus". Xiulote¡¯s face beamed with a smile, and even his body and mind relaxed.


    "The second cup, to honor the King! Praise Our King!"


    "Praise Our King!"


    The bonfire flickered, and the blue smoke rose within the tent, escaping through the skylight in the roof, until the infinite sky. Xiulote looked up for a moment, feeling as if he were soaring, the whole world beneath his feet.


    "The third cup, to honor the generals present! The success of this battle owes to the generals¡¯ utmost effort and dedication, and the Samurai¡¯s fearlessness. Your merits are all kept in my heart! I promised before the war that, should we be victorious, I would bestow noble titles and grant lands... such promises will be fulfilled, and I will not break my word!"

 Chapter 453 - 226 Toasting_2

    "Praise Your Highness!"


    Lively cheers rose once again. The samurai¡¯s faces showed longing, and the generals¡¯ eyes sparkled. A victorious western expedition would allow them to soar, traversing paths that would have taken several generations to cross!


    "The fourth toast, to Black Wolf Torc! He triumphed in the duel, held back the northern reinforcements, and even captured the King of Tarasco! Black Wolf has earned the highest merit in this battle!"


    Xiulote stepped forward, personally pouring the drink and handing it to his beloved general, Torc. The young Black Wolf took the wine cup, looked proudly around, toasted to the gathered generals, and then drained it in one gulp. Monkey Kuluka¡¯s eyes flickered, and without a sound, he too, along with the other generals, drank the remaining wine in his cup.


    "Torc, you are my favorite Black Wolf, you have never failed my expectations!"


    Xiulote smiled. He affectionately patted the Black Wolf on the shoulder, then grabbed his arm and raised it high, proclaiming to everyone.


    "Torc has captured the King of Tarasco! From today on, he is the Alliance¡¯s ¡¯Chief Eagle Warrior¡¯! He is the hunter of the white deer, a warrior renowned throughout the Divine Kingdom!"


    "Chief Eagle Warrior!"


    Low murmurs echoed in the tent. The generals displayed surprise, with expressions that couldn¡¯t conceal their envy. Being an Eagle Warrior itself was a symbol of military nobility. The title of Falcon represented the strong among the Eagle Warriors, and the title of Chief signified exalted status and command authority in the military. From today on, Torc had broken the shackles of his common birth and become one of the top-ranking leaders among the military nobility!


    "My Black Wolf, do you have anything to say?"


    Xiulote looked at his beloved general, then glanced at Kuluka with an implied meaning.


    Torc clenched his right fist and thumped his chest vigorously. His sword-like eyebrows raised, his words brimming with undeniable confidence.


    "I, Torc, am Your Highness¡¯s Black Wolf, brave and good at fighting, unstoppable! I¡¯ve captured the enemy¡¯s Marshal, captured the King of Tarasco, no one can block my path! With but a command from Your Highness, I will gallop for the Wolf King, capturing prey from amidst thousands of troops!"


    At these words, the tent fell silent for a moment, and the generals remained speechless. Bertade coughed lightly and began with a smile.


    "On the way back, Torc mentioned to me that he wanted to express his special thanks to several Great Generals and offer a toast to them!"


    Hearing the Head Warrior¡¯s words, Torc was momentarily stunned. He looked up to see Bertade nodding slightly, with a small movement of his hand.


    "Oh? Excellent, refill Black Wolf¡¯s cup! It was indeed not easy for the army to break through the enemy lines and force Su¡¯angua to flee!"


    Xiulote smiled, patting Torc on the shoulder once again.


    The Black Wolf hesitated for a moment, then remembered the Head Warrior¡¯s reminder. He turned around, facing towards Kuluka and Ezpan, bowed slightly, and raised his cup in salute. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The central army¡¯s Spear Legion fought stubbornly and courageously, being the first to break through the enemy lines! Both generals are also quite capable in battle. The merit of capturing the king should include half for the central army! Here, I, Torc, toast to the two Great Generals!"


    After speaking, the Black Wolf downed two cups in succession and then bowed sincerely.


    The monkey Kuluka and the miner Ezpan rose to their feet at the same time. They drank down the rice wine, returned a bow, the smiles on their faces now imbued with more sincerity.


    Xiulote nodded, gesturing for Black Wolf to sit beside him. Then, he poured another cup of rice wine and said solemnly,


    "The central army pushed forward fiercely, and both wings fought desperately to the death! The Samurai sacrificed bravely and went to the Divine Kingdom, and the sacrifice of the Religious Legion was particularly tragic. Come, General Etalik, General Natali, Teacher Olosh, let¡¯s drink this cup to the blessing of the sacrificed warriors!"


    "To the blessing of the sacrificed warriors!"


    The generals drained their cups, and the atmosphere became slightly more somber. Xiulote once again poured the wine himself, handing the cup to Iskali beside him.


    "This cup is for Marshal Iskali! The Southern Route Vanguard Army spared no effort, marching day and night northward, forcing the Tarasco royal army to engage in a decisive battle and undertake a desperate charge! Thank you, respected Marshal of the Final Month, for securing a strategic advantage for our army!"


    Facing Xiulote¡¯s toast, Iskali was taken aback. A rigid and rare smile appeared on his usually stern face. The Southern Route Marshal drained the rice wine in one gulp and said seriously,


    "The Northern Route Army cleared the thorns all the way, broke through fortresses, and crushed the enemy troops! The Mexica tigers leaped forward while the Tarasco deer scattered and fled, a truly admirable sight! The King has always valued Your Highness, seeing you as the future sun of the Alliance. I had my doubts about Your Highness... but today, I am utterly convinced and sincerely respectful!"


    Then Iskali, of royal lineage, pondered for a moment before speaking sincerely again,


    "After this battle, Your Highness will rise like the sun, with your fame spreading across the lakes to the east and west! How fortunate our tribe is to have received such divine grace. The elders of the Great Nobility are revered, the King is wise and decisive in commanding the tribes; Your Highness is intelligent and skilled in war, solely leading the legions... Heavenly Divine bless our tribe, thus promising the world! The King mentioned the plans after the western campaign, and Your Highness is already well aware. After conquering Tarasco, the fertile lands of the Lake Region will rely entirely on Your Highness to guard! Once all the traitorous subjects are slaughtered and the noble families of the nation are relocated, controlling this fertile land, the Alliance will have no enemies to contend with!!"


    As he spoke, the Marshal of the Final Month¡¯s words brimmed with a strong scent of blood, as did his eyes filled with murderous intent. Then Iskali paused, tempering the boiling killing intent, hesitated for a long time. He stared into Xiulote¡¯s ever-clear eyes, looking at the increasingly heroic face of the youth, and finally spoke out loud once again,


    "Respected Your Highness, as descendants of the royal family, many of the nobility, just like they support the great King, also support you. Your Highness, please be at ease, endure the hardships abroad for a few more years. The King and you, one inside and one outside, will operate the Lake Region together, conquering in all directions! Once we conquer the archenemies, the Tlaxcala people, and pacify the three unfaithful southern tribes, the world will belong to the great Alliance! And if in this life I can see all directions submitting, we can go to the Divine Kingdom with smiles to see our Predecessor Monarch Montezuma. And after Your Highness¡¯s succession, you will become the first Eagle to rule over the world in Alliance history!!"


    After listening to Iskali¡¯s words, tasting the obedience and admonition within them, Xiulote remained silent for a moment, then nodded slowly and emphatically,


    "Good! Very good!"


    The seated Tepopolo clenched his wine cup, looking incredulously at his old friend. If the various royal lineages were united, the Great Nobility from all over... After a moment, he silently bowed his head and likewise drained his cup.


    Xiulote pondered for a while, then smiled broadly. He raised the wine cup in his hand and said to the generals with a smile,


    "The Marshal¡¯s words ring true! My ambition is not only between the two lakes of the east and west, but also beyond the endless lakes! The known world to us is but a small island in Lake Texcoco. Beyond this world, there are the Maya Lands to the southeast, the Feathered Serpent islands in the lakes, the Endless Forest to the north, and distant southern lands... And even farther away, there is a vast world unimaginable! I shall follow in the footsteps of the elders, united in heart and mind with the King, until a new Era begins! Fellow generals seated here, follow me forth. I will promise you a future unimaginable at this moment!"


    "This final cup, to the future I see!"


    "To Your Highness¡¯s celebration!!"


    The waves of excitement rose again, like a Heavenly Divine anthem! Amidst the anthem of this new era, the Tarasco King came to his senses groggily. In his ears were the noisy, jubilant songs of celebration mixed with faint sobs of grief that left one lost and confused.


    Su¡¯angua let out a low groan and finally opened his eyes weakly, his gaze hazy as he looked at the bonfire before him. In that moment, the fire danced, he saw the raging flames rise from inside the tent, consuming the old cocoa, sweeping over the vast land, until the entire sky was ablaze!

 Chapter 454 - 227 Goodbye

    The vast night wind, rising from the campfire, fused into the limitless, dark sky. It soared towards the northwest, passing over the Mexica camp where singing lasted through the night, crossing the silent expanse of wilderness, until it reached the cold, solemn plains of the Lake Region.


    The night was deep, the night was slowly brightening. Desolate villages scattered across the fields, where the occasional sparkle of torches flickered dimly between them, snuffed out one by one in the night wind. And on the far horizon, faint glimmers of light began to emerge once more, outlining the shadow of a grand city.


    The old militiaman Chiwaco, holding a long spear, stood in front of an abandoned house. He stared blankly at the brightening sky for a while, then silently eyed the Capital City on the horizon, sighed with a mind full of thoughts, and turned to enter the dwelling.


    In the spacious interior, more than a dozen warriors born from the militia lay scattered about. Weizti, his head wrapped in a headscarf, sat cross-legged in a corner, nodding forlornly to his uncle. Chiwaco grunted, looked around. The other old brothers were all present, yawning while they tended to their leather armor, beside them, long spears, and short daggers readied.


    "Quickly! Day is breaking! Get up, everyone! As soon as we can see the ground beneath our feet, we march!"


    The old militiaman called out loudly, hastening to the center of the large house. The men got to their feet and bustled about, all except for Captain Puap, who still lay with his eyes shut tight, sleeping like a turkey. Chiwaco bent down to see the sweat on the forehead of the Warrior Captain, who was mumbling incoherently in his sleep, looking every bit like a dozy, foolish owl.


    The old militiaman curled his lip and slapped Puap¡¯s face. The Warrior Captain shivered, rolled over with a jerk, and curled up into a hedgehog again.


    "Captain, Captain! It¡¯s time to depart! Wake up, wake up now!"


    At the sound, Puap stirred groggily and shook his head. In his slumber, he raised an arm and covered his ears with his shoulder, continuing to curl into a ball.


    Seeing this, Chiwaco¡¯s face darkened and his brow furrowed.


    Yesterday, the Mexica had pursued them relentlessly. The trailing squadrons were utterly scattered, the screams of distress never ceased behind them. Fortunately, they were all militiamen familiar with the rural paths, sprinting briskly. They had fled like rabbits throughout the evening and finally lost the Mexica far behind. When night fully fell and their torches burned out, leaving them blind to the path beneath their feet, they stopped to rest in a desolate village.


    The fleeing brothers were exhausted. As soon as they lay down, they fell deep asleep. Only the Warrior Captain was sighing and tossing all night, muttering about the King, the Chief, without a trace of his usual sharpness, not even knowing when he had fallen asleep...


    The old militiaman glanced around; the brothers all seemed ready. No longer waiting, he raised his right hand, gave the Warrior Captain a hard slap, and then shouted loudly.


    "Captain, the Jaguar Warriors are catching up!"


    "What? Jaguars?! Let¡¯s go, quick!"


    Puap jolted awake from his dream. Like a rabbit, he sprang from the ground, frantically searching for his weapons. The old militiaman forced a smile, shook the Warrior Captain¡¯s arm, and said respectfully.


    "Captain, day is breaking, and the Mexica are right behind us. Let¡¯s hurry!" sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Puap looked around, saw the fully equipped militiamen, and took a deep breath. He raised his hand, about to slap Chiwaco back, but the old militiaman stepped back, a smile in his eyes, while his hand gripped the sharp long spear. Puap paused his hand midair, turned to look around, his pupils contracted slightly, then he too put on a smile and warmly patted the old militiaman¡¯s shoulder.


    "Good, good! Chi, we owe a lot to you and the brothers on this journey! When we return to the Capital City, I will personally speak for your valor in front of the Chief!"


    Chiwaco nodded respectfully, silent with a smile. He looked to the surrounding militia and then called out sternly.


    "You blockheads, come and help the Captain don his armor!"


    Under the leadership of a few old brothers, the surrounding militiamen obeyed and helped Puap into his leather armor. The Warrior Captain looked around; most of his trusted samurais were lost in the night, leaving only the close-knit militia... He paused then nodded amiably to everyone, wisely remaining silent.


    As the sky grew lighter, the remnants had also finished preparing their gear. They gathered from the surrounding houses, numbering fifty or sixty.


    The old militiaman inspected them closely; half were remnants from unknown factions, their armor severely damaged. Chiwaco thought for a moment, then dispatched subordinates to roughly organize the remnants into squads, bringing them crudely under control. Soon, just as the sky began to lighten, the old militiaman asked Puap to raise the Captain¡¯s banner, leading everyone on the road hastily.


    Outside the village, the veteran scout Necali, with several sharp warriors, was making a fire for cooking in the wild, resting for a moment. He was the most elite scout, always well-fed, and could navigate by moonlight. After the great battle, as the Mexica warriors pursued relentlessly night after night, reinforcements from the Capital City were routed, mostly captured without a fight like turkeys. Necali was the one who had fought through the night, rushed all the way to this point.


    The fire flickered, softening the watery corn cakes, steam also carrying the scent of blood from the armor. Necali wiped his hands on the long grass, leaving behind a dark red bloodstain. Then, he grabbed a hot corn cake, devouring it hungrily, finishing it in a few bites.

 Chapter 455 - 227 Goodbye_2

    Necali exhaled contentedly, licked the dew off the morning grass, and silently stood up from the bushes. With the faint light of dawn, he looked around like a fierce beast, searching for his next target. Soon, the experienced scout¡¯s gaze sharpened, and a look of pre-hunt excitement appeared on his face again.


    "Hurry, eat up! There¡¯s a squad of remnants outside the village to the northwest, let¡¯s go devour them!"


    Hearing this, several scouts looked towards the northwest together. One of them swallowed his food, glanced at his palm, and hesitated before asking.


    "Chief, there are two palms of warriors there, and we have only one palm. This... we probably can¡¯t beat them, can we?"


    "No! Those Tarasco fugitives are just panicked rabbits, and we are Mexica cheetahs! Just one surprise attack, and the rabbits will scatter in panic like last night, falling prey to the cheetahs!"


    While speaking, Necali narrowed his eyes and scrutinized carefully. A moment later, a raging fury rose in his heart. He spotted a familiar figure, wrapped in a rare headband, carrying a usual spear... The battle on Lake Yuriria came to mind again.


    "Damn it, that cunning black fish, those cunning rabbits, they¡¯re all still alive! Stop the noise, come on, follow me!"


    Necali abruptly drew his war club and rushed towards the distant enemy. The scouts were stunned briefly, but soon drew their weapons and chased after their leader, attacking together.


    "Ah! Mexica! Jaguar Warriors are catching up!"


    The dark green war clothes suddenly appeared on the field, catching the Tarasco remnants¡¯ eyes. The Scout Warriors ran swiftly, emitting terrifying howls. Even with a distance of a kilometer between them, the Tarasco militia were already plunged into chaos. About twenty dispersed militia turned to flee, and the rest were on the verge of collapse.


    "Old man Qi, Jaguar Warriors are coming! Let¡¯s go, we need to hurry!"


    There was utter panic among the remnants, and Puap¡¯s expression became frantic. He grabbed an old militiaman¡¯s arm, urgently pressuring him.


    Chiwaco felt uneasy internally, but his face still maintained composure. He tiptoed to get a better view in the distance, counting on his fingers.


    "It¡¯s impossible, how can Mexica run faster than rabbits! By the three gods, the enemy is more numerous than wolves! They actually have one, two, three, four, five... five... Eh?!"


    The old militiaman paused, quickly counted his fingers again, then suddenly straightened up, pushed through the panicking Puap, and shouted loudly to his comrades.


    "Fools, don¡¯t panic! The enemy has only one palm, not Jaguar Warriors! We can fight them! Quick, get into formation, spear formation. Just like on the lake, just like at the rivermouth, get into formation and stab them dead!"


    While speaking, the old militiaman swung his long spear around, hitting his disordered comrades with the blunt spear shaft. Weizti also joined in with six old comrades, kicking and punching to help. Very soon, over twenty militiamen equipped as Tarasco warriors hastily formed a spear formation; dozens of spear tips glinted coldly, facing the Mexica warriors rushing towards them.


    Seeing the enemy in formation, Necali momentarily paused. He bit his teeth hard and deftly maneuvered to the sides, continuing to emit intimidating howls. The other scouts quickly caught up, circling the spear formation and occasionally swinging their war clubs.


    Puap stood behind the spear formation, only now realizing the situation. He looked to the end of the plain, as no more enemies appeared, feeling a mix of shame and embarrassment. The brave Huitu warrior glanced at the old militiaman commanding the spear formation and then suddenly let out a roar, charging directly at the leading Necali.


    The old militiaman in the formation observed for a moment, then commanded loudly. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Left front, advance, stab!"


    Nearly ten militiamen moved together to the left, thrusting their long spears, and managed to knock down a scout. The loose spear formation briefly scrambled. The remaining three elite scouts hesitated not a moment, immediately breaking into the gap and knocking down five or six militiamen with their strikes.


    "Brothers, aim well, together, stab!"


    Chiwaco continued to shout, leading with his spear, sharply stabbing a scout in the thigh. The scout immediately lost his balance, screaming in pain as he fell bleeding. The other six comrades, well-seasoned on the battlefield, covered by the militiamen, made precise thrusts. Within a couple of exchanges, two more scouts were laid on the ground.


    "Surround them, help the warrior master!"


    Chiwaco shouted again, and the remaining dozen militiamen swung their long spears, surrounding the already gaining Necali.


    "Cowardly warriors! Damn rabbits!"


    Necali swung his war club, emitting an angry roar. Under Chiwaco¡¯s command, more Tarasco militiamen joined the battle. Puap took the opportunity to step back, gasping deeply and wiping the sweat from his forehead.


    The bright long spears rapidly increased, gradually surrounding Necali. The seasoned warrior moved swiftly, desperately swinging his shield and club to block the militiamen¡¯s thrusts, but his space to dodge grew increasingly tight. Finally, he let out a desperate tiger¡¯s roar, looked towards Chiwaco¡¯s direction, and desperately threw his bronze axe. But the opponent nimbly ducked and raised his shield, blocking it steadily like a turtle.


    The fight lasted only a short while; a dozen copper spears quickly encircled Necali. The hunter became the hunted, and death loomed imminently. The seasoned scout angrily bit his lip, crying out unwillingly.

 Chapter 456 - 227 Goodbye_3

    "Damn turtle! I am a military noble of Mexica, I am a Samurai of the Royal Family! I demand a sacred and honorable duel with your leader!"


    "Stop! Stop! Take him alive!"


    Upon hearing Necali¡¯s cry, Chiwaco paused momentarily, hurriedly raised his hand, and the Militia stopped together. The sharp point of the Bronze Spear, chilling to the bone, pressed tightly against the veteran Scout¡¯s vital points, leaving him unable to turn around.


    "You, what did you say? You, a military noble? Have you seen the Mexica Marshal?"


    The old Militia Chiwaco took two steps closer, struggling to gesture to Necali using the dialect similar to that of the eastern mountain region and the Mexica.


    "Of course! I am a Samurai directly under the Royal Family, serving the King generation after generation! I am the most outstanding Scout, His Highness who is skilled in battle often personally meets with me to listen to intelligence from the battlefield! Old warrior, are you their leader? I challenge you to a duel!"


    Necali glanced at the old Militia and replied directly in fluent Tarasco Capital City language.


    "All right! Strip him of his weapons and tie him up first!"


    The old Militia laughed and nodded, completely ignoring Necali¡¯s request, and shouted the order directly. Weizti immediately followed the command. He first hit the opponent¡¯s arm with the shaft of the spear, then snatched away his shield and War Club, and finally, he threw the veteran Scout to the ground, hands tied behind his back, like a deer caught in a snare.


    "Damn black fish, how dare you tie up your own...uh...uh...ugh!"


    Beaten again by a Militia with a turban wrapped around his head, Necali¡¯s eyes flared with sudden rage. He struggled fiercely, cursing out loud, and then a gray cloth was stuffed in his mouth, tainted with the stench of sweat.


    Chiwaco stood to the side, thought intently for a moment, and felt that something was amiss. So he scratched his head and walked straight toward Puap.


    "Master, the King is dead, what will happen to the Capital City now?"


    Chiwaco approached Puap with a respectful demeanor to inquire.


    Upon hearing this question, Puap¡¯s expression darkened. He glanced at the old Militia and replied with a low tone.


    "When the ancestral cocoa tree falls thunderously, the Hummingbird struggles feebly in the wind... Without reinforcements for the Kingdom, the Capital City¡¯s morale dissipates, and it cannot be defended for long. No matter how the chief tries to keep it together, in a few months at most, the grand Capital City will fall to the Mexica."


    "And once the Mexica march upon the city, those shameless Nobility, those incompetent Priests, will all scramble to secretly send Envoys. They will betray the Capital City to the Highness of Mexica in exchange for conditions to ensure their own survival!"


    Hearing this, Chiwaco expressed his admiration.


    "Master is wise! When the fox digs a hole, the rabbits will run all over the place, and the ones that run slowly become the fox¡¯s meal. When the bear knocks over a tree, the monkeys also run wild, who will care about the fruits on the tree? They all become the bear¡¯s meal."


    During the conversation, the old Militia seemed thoughtful. His gaze grew profound, his voice gradually became deeper, and an inexplicable smile appeared on his face.


    "Master, the King is dead, the army is defeated, and the Kingdom¡¯s end is near! This war will soon be decided. It¡¯s a war of the King, a war of the Nobility, a war of the Priests, but it is not our war! It destroys everything of the King, yet it is our opportunity!" sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At these words, Puap looked over in surprise. Chiwaco paused, then pointed at the overgrown fields with his finger, where weeds were thriving amidst the farmland.


    "Look, Master! The cocoa tree has fallen, the cornstalks have collapsed, but the weeds grow taller and taller, soon to be like little trees! Master, do you want to fall, or do you want to grow into a small tree?"


    Puap¡¯s expression shifted, less intense than before, as the seeds already began to sprout in his heart. He glanced again at the Spear tightly held in Chiwaco¡¯s hands, then at the few Militia surrounding them, and cautiously asked in a low voice.


    "Old Chi, what do you mean?"


    "Faced with danger, rabbits have to run faster than others, and bears just want the fruits... Master, we have a suitable candidate right here!"


    "Ah, this... Run fast, offer the fruits? A suitable candidate?..."


    Upon hearing this, Puap¡¯s gaze flickered. He turned his head to look at Necali, who was firmly bound.


    "You¡¯re saying... that could be... but... my family has passed down this legacy for generations, and the chief has been good to me!"


    "Master, your family has been loyal for generations; it can¡¯t end here! The Mexica prince is known for rewarding and punishing clearly, favoring common samurai. With your talents, if you can perform great deeds, you are certain to attain high position... And only if you attain high status will you have the chance to look after the chief¡¯s family in the predetermined future!... Anyway, it¡¯s better than letting the nobility and priests run ahead..."


    After Cihuacoton finished speaking, both fell silent. The breeze blew through the grass, producing a rustling murmur and bringing the scent of spring grass. After a long while, Puap sighed.


    "Hmm... Indeed, that¡¯s true. The chief has been good to me; I must find a way to look after the chief¡¯s family..."


    The old militiaman nodded calmly and asked in a low voice,


    "Master, exactly! Shall I go and talk to him then?"


    Puap lapsed into silence once more. He bowed his head in thought for a while before whispering so faintly it was barely audible,


    "...Hmm. Upon my return to the capital city, I¡¯ll strive to guard the southern gate... at night, there will be the sound of the night owls... forget it, things that are too bothersome are always prone to mistakes, here¡¯s my token..."


    Cihuacoton listened carefully, and suddenly felt a chill in his left hand. He looked up and saw an additional jade talisman in his palm.


    "...Master is wise!"


    A sincere smile once again surfaced on the old militiaman¡¯s face. He respectfully bowed, clutching the spear and the jade talisman tightly, and walked briskly to stand before Necali.


    Necali lay bound on the ground, his mouth emitting muffled shouts. Seeing the old militiaman approaching with the spear and the fierce smile on his face, Necali struggled more fiercely, screaming hysterically.


    The old militiaman stood firm, gently poking the patterns on Necali¡¯s war clothes with a smile, then using the spear tip to count the marks of his military achievements, nodding in satisfaction. After that, he watched coldly for a moment until beads of sweat formed on Necali¡¯s head. Then he waved his hand to disperse the guarding militia. Cihuacoton then bent down and whispered a few words into the ear of the seasoned scout.


    Necali¡¯s shouting abruptly stopped. He stared, disbelieving, at the old samurai before him. Cihuacoton smiled, pulling the grey cloth from Necali¡¯s mouth and untying the ropes binding his hands and feet.


    "You?... You!... Damn it! Was what you just said true?"


    The experienced scout shouted out several times in excitement, but soon calmed down and asked in a lowered voice,


    "Of course! If it¡¯s just weeds, one must still find a way to live... The prince treats the people of the Lake Region better than these nobles... If you move quickly, and catch up with this year¡¯s spring plowing, the Lake Region can also have fewer deaths..."


    The old militiaman also grew excited but quickly lowered his eyes and took a deep sigh. Then, he extended his hand and grasped Necali¡¯s hand.


    "Here, take this. Keep it safe."


    "This is... a token?"


    "Yes. It¡¯s also a token of trust from the prince."


    Necali clenched the token, silent and wordless, slowly standing up from the ground. He glanced at the few scouts that had followed him, now cold corpses. He then looked at the fallen militiamen nearby, also turned into cold bodies. He looked around under the bright sky, on the vast plains, where there was only a lonely village and a dozen dirt-covered militia in front of the village, along with himself, drenched in sweat, captured and then released.


    A ridiculous smile spread across the experienced scout¡¯s face. He glanced at the profound Cihuacoton and the wooden-faced Weizti, feeling a torrent of emotions in his chest, but only uttered a brief farewell.


    "Goodbye, Prepetcha people."


    "Goodbye, Mexica man. The sooner, the better!"


    Necali nodded, the words of farewell dissipating in the wind. As the morning sun rose into the sky, the two groups turned and parted ways. They ran towards their respective destinations, while also awaiting a new beginning.

 Chapter 457 - 228: Post-War Sacrifice, Troops Surround the Capital City!

    ```


    The resplendent morning sun rose towards the sky, bringing the night¡¯s banquet to an end. In the vast encampment, wisps of cooking smoke dispersed into the horizon, and the song of the priests carried far and wide. Soon, under the leadership of the war priests, tens of thousands of samurai began to assemble in formation, praying in hushed tones. They praised the rays of light emitted by the sun toward the east; they lauded the victory bestowed by the War God and looked forward to the grand sacrificial ceremonies after the battle!


    In this barbaric era of warring states, low productivity levels curtailed indulgence in pleasure. Weak rice wine could hardly intoxicate, and food served more for ritualistic purposes and to fill the belly. Whether commoners or samurai, life was tough, the social hierarchy rigid, with a proclivity for life over death and a devout belief in the spirits. The militaristic society of the alliance demanded that the militia continuously farm and fight; for the exalted samurai, abstinence, combat, sacrifice, and reverence to the deities were required. Thus, in the entire alliance, the truly captivating public activities were the various religious rituals.


    "The grand affairs of the nation lie only in warfare and ritual. It is the same with the Alliance!"


    Under the newborn morning sun, Xiulote, adorned in the priestly garb of the Black Wolf, his head donning an elongated priestly feather crown, and his hand clasping a gemstone-encrusted priestly scepter, sat majestically atop a three-meter-high altar. Despite a sleepless night, he was still full of vitality, his eyes bright. Taught by his grandfather, the young priest understood clearly that religious ceremonies controlled the hearts of the people, which were fundamental to his lasting influence. No matter how great the military achievements he attained, the power of religion could not be entrusted to others, and he himself must preside over the legion¡¯s important rituals.


    With this in mind, Xiulote tilted his head back and raised an obsidian lens to his eyes. After observing the sun¡¯s position for a while, he turned to the lower-ranking priests below the altar and solemnly commanded.


    "The sun rises, the deities awaken, ignite the Sacred Fire!" S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Sacred Fire blazed instantly, the warm heat waves spreading with the wind. A great amount of spices were thrown into the fire, burning with a rich fragrance, as if carrying the breath of the deities.


    "The earth shakes, samurai dance, priests sing!"


    The Temple Warriors burst into an ecstatic war dance, while the priests sang ancient ballads. The earth swayed, the white clouds drifted, all the way to ancient afar.


    "Bury the departed, their bodies will return to the embrace of the earth, giving rise to prosperous fields!"


    A giant pit had already been dug at the edge of the encampment, with thousands of samurai surrounding it, laying the bodies of the fallen into the pit. A distant lament filled the camp, accompanied by low murmurs of farewells and blessings.


    Xiulote watched for a moment, his expression solemn. The Tarasco Royal Army was incredibly tenacious, and the decisive battle was exceedingly brutal, both sides fighting to the last moment. The total number of troops the Mexica Alliance deployed was around eighteen thousand, with the astonishing figure of over five thousand casualties. Because of the brutality of the fight, the proportion of those killed was especially high. At this moment, over three thousand bodies were being buried, and of the remaining two thousand wounded, half suffered severe injuries.


    Upon closer analysis, the three thousand Religious Legion on the flank that fought to the death with the enemy, and were also directly breached by the Copper-axe Guards, suffered the heaviest casualties, almost losing half of their number. The three thousand Holy City Legion on the other flank fared slightly better, but still suffered nearly a thousand casualties. The six thousand Longbow Legion at the center bore the brunt of heavy archery fire and were also stormed once by the Copper-axe Guards, with casualties as high as fifteen hundred. Fortunately, thanks to the protection of Paper Armor and Rattan Shields, the injuries from arrows were mostly not severe, and most of the center¡¯s wounded could recover. The rear three thousand Ranged Troops also suffered over six hundred casualties, a third of which were part of Xiulote¡¯s valued Personal Army.


    In Yuku¡¯s final assault, over sixty of the five hundred Jaguar Warriors fell. Over sixty nobles of military merit ascended to the Divine Kingdom! In the eyes of the Nobility of the Alliance, this was the gravest loss of the battle. In contrast, two thousand Longbow Militia from the Black Wolf, who blocked the reinforcements from the capital, suffered seven to eight hundred casualties, yet this barely registered in the minds of the commanders.


    At this point, Xiulote¡¯s face was austere as he sighed quietly in his heart.


    "The Copper-axe Guards are indeed tough as nails. The Tarasco Royal Army, my first formidable opponent, has met its demise at my hands!"


    Soon, Xiulote¡¯s spirits lifted again. He held his head high, surveying the tens of thousands of Mexica legions loyal to him, this was his power! Then, the Priestly Scepter in the young priest¡¯s hand was raised high once more as he chanted again without expression.


    "Sacrifice the enemies, let their fresh blood call upon the descent of the Sun God!"


    Amidst the priests¡¯ chants, the samurai¡¯s war dance became even more intense. The fervent battle drums rang out, seasoned warriors imitating the cries of Jaguars and Eagles, howling to the sky with abandon. A surge of despair erupted from the nearby prisoner compound, quickly subdued by the Alliance¡¯s samurai. Two thousand elite samurai dragged an equal number of prisoners to the vast pit.


    Xiulote glanced up briefly and continued to gaze at the distant sky. Including the Capital City reinforcements, the Tarasco had deployed thirteen thousand legionaries of which ten thousand were the elite Royal Army. Following the great battle, the Tarasco Guards were completely annihilated, the Royal Warriors decimated with scarcely one in ten surviving, and the Longbow Militia were nearly wiped out. Pursued relentlessly throughout the night by the Mexica legions, the remaining ten thousand or so Tarasco legionaries were vanquished. Less than two thousand routed soldiers managed to escape to heaven, mostly being Capital City reinforcements.


    In the post-battle tally, about seven thousand enemy soldiers lay dead, and close to four thousand Royal Army prisoners were taken, most wounded. Sacrifice after battle was always a custom of the Alliance, and those with severe injuries rarely escaped the fate of death. Xiulote only spared two thousand robust warriors and militia. As for the remaining two thousand captives... their faint screams of agony drowned in the shouts, vivid red overflowing into the deep pit. Then the cries waned, the redness ebbed away, the sacrifices turned cold, and the Sun God descended upon the land!


    ```

 Chapter 458 - 228: Post-War Sacrificial Rites, Troops Surround the Capital City!_2

    "At noon, the gods descended, and the Divine Kingdom opened! The gods have arrived to lead the souls of the deceased!"


    The clear call echoed under the sky, and a thunderous roar ascended. The samurai in the camp suddenly became noisy. They shouted their final blessings, bidding farewell to the souls of those who died in battle, rising until the red kingdom. It was a long time before the shouting gradually quieted down.


    Xiulote once again raised the Divine Staff in his hand, chanting the final farewell.


    "The gods have departed, taking with them the souls of those who died in battle! The warriors who died for the gods have gone to the glorious Divine Kingdom, transformed into beautiful flora, forever enjoying peace and joy! Praise the Chief Divine, shout thrice His name!"


    "Praise the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! Praise the Sun God Huitzilopochtli! Praise the War God Huitzilopochtli!"


    The shouts in the camp boiled to a climax, turning into a powerful and orderly prayer. All the Mexica warriors lay face down on the ground at the same time, their faces pressed deeply against the earth, offering the most devout salutes to the Chief Divine! Soon, the camp was quiet, leaving only the distant sound of a flute and the far-off wind.


    Xiulote slightly closed his eyes, meditated silently for three minutes, before finally chanting.


    "The ritual is complete! The Sun God returns to the sky, promising this year¡¯s harvest; the War God blesses us, the western campaign is about to be victorious!"


    The deafening cheer rose again, even the air seemed to come alive. The samurai, smiling, began to rise from the ground. They greeted each other, fists clenched and arms crossed, hopeful for the fields¡¯ bounty, and more so for the victory in war. The samurai responsible for the funeral began to fill the pits with soil. The warriors of the Alliance were buried in the main pit, with carvings of the sun and the Hummingbird on the sealed soil. The deceased of the kingdom were hastily buried in the surrounding subsidiary pits, keeping them in long company with their former enemies, lying side by side.


    The ceremony ended, Xiulote slowly walked down from the divine platform, his back soaked with sweat. The weather in April had become hot, and the ceremonial dress allowed for no negligence. Accompanied by Bertade, he returned to the commander¡¯s tent, changed into a comfortable shirt, rested briefly, then once more headed towards a side tent in the rear camp.


    The side tent was small, yet guarded firmly by a dozen samurai. Xiulote lifted the tent door, looked directly at the grass bed inside.


    Cazonci Su¡¯angua of the Tarasco Kingdom was lying on the bed with his eyes tightly closed, a peaceful smile on his face, resting tranquilly. His injured right arm had been carefully bandaged, and the arrowhead had been removed; he had been changed into a clean white robe. At that moment, he looked like a sleeping white deer. Next to Su¡¯angua, an elderly priest bowed respectfully, and a young priest nodded back in salute.


    "How is Su¡¯angua?"


    "Respected High Priest, his wounds have been meticulously treated. Last night I administered a potent potion, and he has been sleeping since then." sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Good! Do not stop the priest¡¯s potions, call for more from the rear if needed. Remember, he is the most sacred of sacrifices, you must sustain his life, he must not be allowed to commit suicide!"


    Upon hearing this, the elderly priest nodded fearfully, and respectfully replied.


    "Rest assured, High Priest! The use of hallucinogenic Holy Water and anesthetizing potions alternately will surely prevent any chance of suicide, and he will soon lose his clarity of thought!"


    "Hmm, good. Now, wake him up!"


    The elderly priest took out a jar of pale yellow potion, feeding it to Su¡¯angua. Moments later, the young king coughed violently, painfully shook his head, and finally woke from his deep sleep again.


    "Yuku... give me my armor..."


    Xiulote stood still, silently watching the pale-faced king, saying nothing.


    "Bring me honey water... guard? Yuku!"


    Su¡¯angua shouted out and abruptly opened his eyes, just meeting Xiulote¡¯s gaze. His expression shifted from surprise to confusion, then to bewilderment and finally transformed into anger.


    "Damn it! You are..."


    "Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Mexica, Xiulote."


    Upon hearing this, the young king¡¯s pupils harshly contracted. He instinctively reached toward his waist, feeling a sharp pain in his right arm, but touched nothing. He then looked at his clothes, glanced at the Mexica warriors on both sides, and suddenly his face turned deathly pale, draining all his strength.


    Xiulote slightly shook his head. The priests¡¯ numerous potions acted on the nerves, and although potent, severely impacted the user¡¯s thinking, causing memories to become scrambled. The high priests and veteran warriors of the Alliance were cautious with the use of potions to avoid adverse effects.


    "The Divine allow us to meet! Greetings, Cazonci of the people of Prepetcha, the Divine Eagle of Tarasco! Xiulote of Mexica greets you!"


    Hearing the familiar greeting, Su¡¯angua tightly pursed his whitened lips, remained silent for a long while. After a while, the pride of the Royal Family compelled him to look up, responding in a low voice.


    "With the Three Divine as witnesses! Greetings, Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Mexica. The King of Tarasco greets you!"


    Xiulote smiled and nodded. He examined the king¡¯s expression with a smile, then spoke gently.


    "Your Excellency Su¡¯angua, how does your body feel? Is there any discomfort? The Alliance holds customs in high regard, if you have any requests, feel free to make them here!"


    Hearing this, Su¡¯angua gritted his teeth, clenched his fists tightly. After a long moment, he finally replied in a low voice.


    "I, am well. Your Highness of Mexica, if you have anything to say, just say it!"


    Xiulote paused for a moment, indeed having some thoughts... The young priest smiled again and spoke.


    "Since you put it that way, I will speak plainly. Your Excellency, you are defeated, and the Tarasco Kingdom has no more armies. Though Capital City Qinchongcan is strong, it could hardly withstand the attack of the Alliance armies. The war has come to an end, and enough lives have been lost. For the sake of the lives of the capital¡¯s residents, and this year¡¯s spring planting, would you be willing to step forward and negotiate the surrender of Qinchongcan City?"

 Chapter 459 - 228 Post-War Sacrifice, Troops Surround the Capital City!_3

    The young King remained silent, not saying a word. He lifted his head, gazing at the pristine tent as if seated above the clouds. Xiulote waited patiently for a long while before asking again. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Majesty, what are your thoughts?"


    "How will the Mexica Alliance deal with me?"


    Su¡¯angua watched the youth, asking with a cold expression.


    Xiulote lowered his eyes slightly and continued speaking softly.


    "The Alliance will try to satisfy your demands. You will be the most sacred guest of the Alliance, until you depart for the Divine Kingdom in glory."


    "Satisfy my demands, depart in glory to the Divine Kingdom?... Damn, greedy jackals! You see me as a sacrificial offering?! Cough, cough..."


    Su¡¯angua thought for a moment before suddenly realizing. He roared angrily, flailing his arms, then started coughing violently.


    The Mexica warriors on both sides immediately drew their war clubs and stepped forward. Xiulote gestured for the warriors to step back. Then, he looked calmly at the King of Tarasco, his eyes showing a hint of pity.


    That gaze seemed to have the power to stab with pain. Su¡¯angua coughed and turned his head to avoid the young man¡¯s eyes. The young King continued to ponder for a long time before looking at Xiulote again.


    "If Qinchongcan City surrenders, can the Tarasco Royal Family be spared?"


    At this, Xiulote slowly shook his head.


    The young King fell silent once more. He thought deeply for a long time and then looked at Xiulote with hope.


    "In your hands, my fate is already sealed, but the bloodline of the Divine Eagle must not perish by my hand. I can give you Qinchongcan City, and I can persuade the nobles of the South to surrender! I seek not the preservation of the entire Royal Family, but to leave a single bloodline, to be enfeoffed in the remote southwest. I implore you, your Highness of Mexica, with a heart as merciful as the Feathered Serpent, to grant my reasonable request!"


    This time, Xiulote thought for a long while. To preserve the Royal Family went against the elders¡¯ directive; to enfeoff the southwest clashed with his own plans. And such a promise would have to be sworn to the gods, witnessed by the nobility and priests... After careful consideration, he still slowly shook his head.


    "Your Majesty, please consider another condition!"


    "This is my only condition! If the bloodline of the Divine Eagle is extinguished, everything about the Kingdom is meaningless! What does it matter if all of Qinchongcan¡¯s commoners die?! If the Mexica break the bloodline of the three gods¡¯ Royal Family, they will surely suffer the wrath of the three gods! All the tribes in the world will unite and attack you, the savage Aztecs!"


    Su¡¯angua¡¯s words turned into a roar. He clenched his fists and struggled to rise from the grass bed, lunging at Xiulote. Xiulote remained calm, taking two silent steps back. Beside him, Head Warrior Bertade stepped forward and firmly subdued Su¡¯angua, pressing him down onto the grass bed. The eyes of the King of Tarasco turned red as he recognized Bertade¡¯s identity, and he started to struggle fiercely again.


    "It¡¯s you! The warrior who killed Yuku! Damn you, Mexica prince who has sunk into the Abyss! I am the King of Tarasco; give me back my kingdom, my legions, my great generals!!"


    Seeing the frantic King of Tarasco, Xiulote helplessly shook his head. He signaled an old Priest, who once again took out a jar of pale green potion and forcibly opened Su¡¯angua¡¯s jaw, skillfully pouring it into his mouth. In just over a dozen breaths, the King of Tarasco suddenly fell silent, his body went limp, and he fell back into a quiet sleep.


    "Let it be. Take good care of him; I will come to see him in a few days."


    After giving a couple of instructions, Xiulote turned and left. There was much to attend to after the battle; he needed to reorganize the legion and send troops to the Capital City as soon as possible!


    The long wind swept through, stirring the pines and cypresses by the lake; the sunlight poured down, turning into ripples on the surface of the lake. The Alliance¡¯s messengers ran across the plains of the Lake Region, spreading the news of the Alliance¡¯s decisive victory far and wide. With the spreading news, people¡¯s hearts were trembling, the world was changing, and the Alliance was advancing.


    Prisoners were sent northwards, food came from the south. Only two days after the decisive battle, the Mexica legion, like a surging flood, moved northwestward, arriving at the shores of Lake Patzcuaro, eyeing the last bastion, Qinchongcan City. Soon, five thousand of the southern vanguard arrived first to encamp below Qinchongcan City, cutting off the surrounding roads and sealing off the western lakeshore. Afterward, more than ten thousand from the Northern Army arrived in succession, completely surrounding the Capital City!


    With the Royal Army destroyed and the enemy surrounding the city, the shocking news came all at once, and the majestic Capital City of Tarasco was thrown into utter chaos, full of frantic nobility and priests. Sacrificial rites atop the Akatla Pyramids continued through the night without rest, and the ceremonies of offering Sacrifices never ceased. The Chief Minister immediately took all of the Royal Family¡¯s heirs into the Royal Palace and then forcefully reorganized the city¡¯s military.


    In Qinchongcan City, counting the retreating defeated army, there were just over two thousand Samurai. Most of these were private armies of the nobility and Divine Guards of the priests, with only a quarter being directly loyal. The Militia in the city numbered close to twenty thousand, nearly half of whom were restless tribesmen from the Tekos Tribe.


    Facing this situation, Jinjinni displayed a level of firmness never seen before. He dispersed his loyal Samurai, took control of the Militia within the city, and then suppressed the restless nobility and tribesmen. In just two short days, hundreds of heads fell. Under the Chief Minister¡¯s authority, the city¡¯s defenses were barely established. But beneath the calm surface of Lake Patzcuaro, there were invisible raging currents.


    Another day passed, and the flag of the Black Wolf appeared to the east of Qinchongcan City. More than four hundred Jaguar Warriors, over two thousand archers, all escorted the highest Commander of the Mexica, arriving three hundred strides from the city walls.


    Xiulote stood beneath the towering walls, observing this grand city. At the end of April, after a full year of campaigning, the Mexica legion had finally arrived below Qinchongcan City, besieging the Capital City of Tarasco! The Kingdom of the Prepetcha people was on the brink of extinction, and the extensive western campaign was about to reach its final conclusion!

 Chapter 460 - 229: The Capital City and the Throne

    ```


    "What a magnificent city!"


    Xiulote, clad in armor and carrying a bow, gazed at the capital city not far away, a look of admiration spreading across his face. He closed one eye, extended his left arm, and raised his thumb, noticing with just a quick glance that the city wall was an impressive eight or nine meters high, with an astonishing width of two to three kilometers.


    The blue stone walls were engraved with divine symbols, and the wide city gates were decorated with patterns of gold and silver. On the tall city walls, many militia holding long spears and samurai carrying bows and arrows stood densely packed. Among the defending militia, stacks of brick, wood, and stone were piled up, along with pottery jars filled with lime.


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze lingered momentarily among the ranks of the defending army. He estimated the ratio of samurai to militia and looked at the throngs of people from the Tekos tribe, his smile growing even more radiant.


    "Truly a majestic sight to behold!"


    The young commander lifted his head, looking past the towering city wall at the even taller "House of Wind" ¨C the Akatla, continuing to marvel with a smile.


    According to the scouts¡¯ reports, Qinchongcan City covered an area of six or seven square kilometers, usually home to over forty thousand citizens, making it one of the largest cities in Central America. And now, with the addition of the people from the surrounding lake region, the number of people within the city had at least doubled.


    At the heart of this expansive metropolis was the ancient and weathered Akatla Pyramid "House of Wind." Five circular Akatla Pyramids lined up in a row, along with the extended annex Temples and Priest quarters, spanning almost two kilometers! The two sides were about thirty meters high, while the three central Chief Divine Pyramids were nearly fifty meters tall. Looking up, the enormous pyramid complex was like towering mountains, or like great beasts lying in wait. The Sacred Fire, lit at the temple atop the pyramids, resembled the burning eyes of the beasts.


    "The grand city that has thrived for a thousand years, the capital of a two-hundred-year-old kingdom, truly lives up to its reputation!"


    With a smile in his eyes, Xiulote looked at this ancient city as if beholding his own treasured possession. Then, he turned his head slightly to look at the surrendered generals by his side and asked with a smile.


    "Oorta, why do the people of the Lake Region build such magnificent pyramids? What is the significance of this wonder in the hearts of the Prepetcha people?"


    "Respected Your Highness, in the olden gods¡¯ mythology, Qinchongcan City is the center of the universe, and the group of pyramids is the source of heaven and earth. Sun, Earth, Moon¡ª the divine powers of the three Chief Divines reside within the pyramids, driving the rising and setting of the sun, the flourishing and withering of plants, maintaining the world¡¯s operations. Ordinary citizens haven¡¯t been in contact with the highest Chief Divine, and the ancient three gods are the faith they¡¯ve inherited for a thousand years. Of course, the power of the Chief Divine is supreme and omnipresent. To me, it seems that the sun Chief Divine Curicaveri might just be an incarnation of Huitzilopochtli."


    The Family Head Oorta spoke respectfully. After finishing, he bowed deeply, paying his respects to Xiulote.


    Xiulote nodded, patting the other¡¯s shoulder, then his gaze turned smilingly to Oorta.


    A complex expression covered Oorta¡¯s face. In front of him lay the glorious Tarasco Capital City, and behind him were tens of thousands of Mexica warriors. How could he not be moved by such a return to the capital city? After a few breaths, the Crocodile Marshal sighed. He bowed his head to pay his respects and explained in a grave tone.


    "Your Highness, the Akatla Pyramids were built by the ancestors of the Lake Region and have a legacy that may span a thousand years. They not only serve as Thrones of the Gods, where divine spirits reside, but also as tombs for the Royal Family and nobility, venues for festivities, and the spiritual lodestone of the people of the Lake Region!


    For the High Priests, the pyramid complex also serves as an observatory, a sacred place for determining celestial timing. The corridors among the pyramids point in fixed north-south directions, and the stone bricks in front of the pyramids are cut with precision and divided according to strict hierarchical order. Every rise and fall of the sun leaves a changing shadow over the stone bricks, indicating the precise time. Twice a year, the shadow from the pyramids points to the center of the stone bricks. The first of these days is when preparations for spring plowing begin, and the second is for getting ready for the autumn harvest."


    "Your Highness, every person of Prepetcha believes that the souls of the deceased ascend the Akatla Pyramids, led by the Goddess of the Moon, to the Land of the Dead beneath the earth. The temples atop can change, but the pyramids themselves remain forever in people¡¯s hearts. After conquering Qinchongcan City, if you wish for a stable and lasting rule over the Lake Region, I beseech you to show mercy towards this wonder..."


    "Vernal and Autumnal Equinoxes... so it¡¯s a large coronagraph and an observatory, a classical wonder indeed."


    After listening to Oorta¡¯s narrative, Xiulote pondered for a moment and nodded with a smile. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Very well! Fear not, Crocodile, the people of Prepetcha will be my citizens, and I will respect the cultural heritage of the people of the Lake Region! ...I am certainly a fervent admirer of wonders..."


    His voice trailed off into a near whisper with the last sentence. Oorta didn¡¯t catch it clearly but didn¡¯t dare to ask more, only resuming his thankful bow.


    Xiulote looked around, beside the grand "House of Wind," was the splendid and magnificent royal "Palace of Wind." The height of the "Palace of Wind" paralleled that of the central pyramid, surrounded by a circle of sturdy stone buildings, with the palace above featuring a mix of stone and wooden structures, and balconies with fluttering drapes. On the highest tower, an old man clad in gold and silver finery was looking out from half a city away, gazing towards the legions outside the city.


    Xiulote watched for a moment; the old man was nothing more than a tiny speck, indistinguishable. He withdrew his gaze, continuing to survey the city¡¯s defenses, and it was only after a while that he spoke with a smile,


    ```

 Chapter 461 - 229: Capital City and Throne_2

    "The troop deployment is meticulous and the order is well-kept. The Chief Minister of Tarasco is indeed a pillar of strength, living up to his reputation! What do you think are the weaknesses of this city, and how should we attack?"


    Upon hearing His Highness¡¯s query, the young Oorta raised his head, hesitated, and then after a moment, he lowered his head and said.


    "Your Highness, since Cazonci Su¡¯angua has been captured by you, the authority of Jinjinni¡¯s Chief is just like water without a source. He can¡¯t truly unify the nobility or suppress the priests. Although this city is strong, it is in disarray, and the key lies with the nobility and priests!"


    "Hmm, disarray among the people. Well said!"


    Xiulote nodded in approval and looked up at Aweit. The Crocodile Marshal, however, kept his head down, remaining silent.


    "I¡¯ve seen enough of this city for today. Let¡¯s stop here!"


    Xiulote said with a light chuckle, shaking his head. He turned around and walked away, enjoying the scenery around the Capital City. The area boasted convenient waterways, fertile and cultivated fields, densely clustered villages, and lush spring greenery. The youthful king finally couldn¡¯t help but burst into laughter, his laughter filled with joy.


    "Situated in the northwest of the world, with high and wide terrain. Rich soil, densely populated. With great rivers to the north and south, and mountains to the east. With rivers and mountains crisscrossing, fortresses that are strictly guarded. A culture deep and longstanding, with the nobility swept away, and the benefits of copper, iron, gold, and silver! This place, indeed, is the fertile soil of Guanzhong, the foundation of kingship!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily as he walked away, his trusted aides closely following behind. Though the generals could not understand, they could feel the king¡¯s vigorous spirit and pleasure, and they too broke into joyful smiles. Their laughter mixed with the spring breeze and gradually carried away across the whole area.


    The following week was peaceful and tranquil. Nearly twenty thousand Mexica legionnaires completely unfolded around Qinchongcan. The massive siege camp layer upon layer, elite Scout Warriors patrolling all around, totally severing the Capital City¡¯s external connections. The north and west sides of the Capital City, near the lakes, were narrow in terrain. The Mexica craftsmen then built assault ramps on the east and south sides of the city, and began constructing wooden siege engines.


    Qinchongcan City lacked elite warriors, unable to strike out and harass, staying in an absolute defensive position. Upon the Chief¡¯s orders, all four gates of the Capital City were blocked with bricks and stones, completely sealed. The Defending Army on the city walls could only watch as dozens of ramps slowly heightened. Even though there was enough food in the city and the ramps would take a long time to surpass the walls, the atmosphere of anxiety slowly spread. The powerful Chief controlled the Capital City, and the nobles could only gather secretly. Every night as darkness fell, secretive envoys would move about in the shadows, conducting discussions.


    Xiulote sat comfortably in the eastern command tent, merely assembling surrendered generals daily, chatting about stories of Tarasco, asking about history and culture. He spent his evenings at banquets drinking, seemingly not at all concerned about the siege. Another week passed, and when the May winds blew from the East, an envoy hurriedly arrived, shouting joyfully.


    "Honored Your Highness! The Supreme King himself, leading ten thousand warrior vanguard, has marched to twenty leagues east of here!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote threw aside the Prepetcha board in his hand, joyfully standing up.


    "We¡¯ve waited long enough, the King has finally arrived! Bertade, you go prepare the banquet and check the camp again. The rest of you, get ready and join me in greeting the King!"


    The golden sunset illuminated the vast land. On the verdant earth, there were massive tents, and tens of thousands of Mexica legionnaires. Xiulote, dressed in the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s attire, stood solemnly outside the camp gate, waiting for the long-awaited King.


    The blood-red sun flag first appeared on the horizon, followed by the solemn procession of tens of thousands of elites, and lastly, a noble battle group of fully two thousand warriors. The majestic Jaguar Warriors, draped in vibrant tiger skins, and the proud Eagle Warriors, dressed in splendid feathered garments, together surrounded the central King. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aweit, donned in a white, "Evil Spirit" leather armor and wearing a fearsome "Skull" helmet, strode out from the battle group. His face bore the solemnity of divinity, his right hand clasping the Yellow Gemstone Heritage Scepter, sternly gazing at Xiulote and the other generals as they emerged from their encampment.


    Suppressing the excitement in his heart, Xiulote slowly knelt to the ground. He bowed deeply to the King dressed as a divine being and, lifting the Marshal¡¯s Scepter with both hands, respectfully shouted.


    "Blessed by the Chief Divine! Xiulote, Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Route Army, offers his sincerest greetings to the Alliance¡¯s Tratuoani! Supreme King, you are my monarch, father, and teacher. I offer you the honor of victory and the command of the legion!"


    Hearing Xiulote¡¯s shout, Aweit¡¯s solemn face broke into a hint of a smile. He stepped forward, took the Scepter from Xiulote¡¯s hands, and then gently ruffled the young man¡¯s hair.


    "Witnessed by the divine! Xiulote, you are my most outstanding subject, son, and student. I accept the honor of your victory!"


    Then, Aweit placed the Scepter back into the young man¡¯s hands, smiling as he exclaimed.


    "My child, you are my most distinguished general! I bestow upon you the command of the Northern Route Legion, along with the vanguard of the Southern Route, once again!"


    Without waiting for the young man¡¯s reply, Aweit reached out with both hands and lifted him directly from the ground. Under the watchful eyes of the generals, the King gave the young man an equal and solemn embrace. Faced with such an extraordinary display of ritual, Xiulote, surprised, widened his eyes and, for a moment, seemed at a loss. Aweit laughed heartily, his right hand tightly grasping the young man¡¯s left arm before raising it high, proclaiming to all present.


    "Witnessed by the divine! Mexica¡¯s fledgling Eagle has soared into the sky, transformed into the golden morning sun. His brilliance is unmatched, and his glory accompanies me!"


    "Witnessed by the Chief Divine! I am the noonday sun, commanding the vast heavens and earth, leading the Great Alliance! And Xiulote, he is the red sun that rises on the horizon! In the distant future, when I journey to the Divine Kingdom, he will take my place, dwelling high in the highest heavens, continuing to lead you forward! Chief Divine bless, the gods love our people!"


    "Witnessed by the divine," being the most solemn oath, and the sun symbolizing the King. Faced with this sudden declaration of succession, the generals of both the Northern and Southern Armies exchanged glances for a moment, then all knelt in salutation.


    "Praise the Sun God! Heaven-sent King and Prince!... Chief Divine bless, the gods love our people!"


    The thunderous shouts spread far and wide. Hundreds of steps away, the Intelligence Officer Gillim looked somber. He stood in the shade of the crowd, gritted his teeth, and sighed deeply. The spirited shouts continued to drift farther, awakening Su¡¯angua in the camp and alerting Jinjinni on the city walls.


    Under the setting sun and the witness of the crowd, Xiulote finally lifted his head. He revealed a radiant smile, looked up at the vast sky, and toward the supreme Sun Throne, took the second step that everyone expected.

 Chapter 462 - 230: Late Night Conversations and Oaths, Enfeoffment and Promises!

    The bonfire burned brightly, the night air was warm, the welcoming feast was simple yet solemn. Simple in the food that was served, solemn in the samurai¡¯s etiquette.


    King Aweit sat in the central seat of honor, with Xiulote taking the place nearby. One after another, the military leaders came forward, successively toasting the king and his highness, then presenting the flowers of spring, along with the most precious spoils of war. Aweit watched the assembly with a smile, engaging in cordial conversations, occasionally praising the achievements of various commanders-in-chief, then inquiring about the casualties of the troops. Xiulote, on the other hand, maintained his silence, nodding to the officers while contemplating the next steps in his plan.


    When the round of toasts from the generals was complete and the situation of the Northern Army was more or less clear, Aweit stood up from the main seat with a laugh and raised his glass to address the officers magnanimously.


    "Excellent! During this Western campaign, the Northern Army was the first to breach the border fortress of the Tarasco Kingdom, successively defeating several Tarascan legions, and even capturing the King of Tarasco! The commander-in-chief is a brilliant strategist, the samurai are loyal unto death, invincible in attack and unbeatable in battle, the Northern Legion has become renowned throughout the world!"


    Then, King Aweit patted Xiulote on the shoulder with affectionate admiration.


    "Xiulote, you have given me many surprises! You are the youngest marshal in the Alliance and the most skilled in battle, the greatest hero of the Western campaign. This cup is to you! Come, let all the generals fill their cups and drink with me!"


    "To his highness!"


    Hearing the king¡¯s words, generals from both north and south raised their cups and drank in tribute. Xiulote quickly rose and drank, then poured another cup to reciprocate Aweit. After the two of them had drunk, Aweit waved his hand with a laugh and said to the officers.


    "The prey is right beside us, Jaguars cannot afford to doze off and sleep! Let¡¯s end today¡¯s banquet here, everyone return to your camps, get the troops ready, and fully prepare for the siege!"


    "Yes, we will follow your decree!"


    "Um. Xiulote, you stay!"


    The generals accordingly gave their salutes and dispersed, and the tent quickly became quiet. Aweit took off his elaborate royal attire, removed his ornate long crown, and simply draped himself in a comfortable plain robe, sighing with relief. Then, casting his smile aside, he fondled the Divine Staff in his hand, pondered for a while, and then asked seriously.


    "Where is Su¡¯angua?"


    "He¡¯s in the rear camp."


    "Take me to see him!"


    "Yes, your majesty." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote bowed his head in salute and then turned to lead the way. The two walked one after the other under the crescent moon of early month. The moonlight was faint, the stars twinkled, and there was a song of prayer from the tents. The distant singing seemed to tell of the alternating cycles of the four Sun Eras. En route, the two kings walked quietly, listening to the ancient ballad, neither speaking a word.


    "This way."


    Xiulote stopped in front of an outer tent, where numerous samurai guards saluted in unison. Aweit gestured with his hand and was the first to lift the tent flap, striding in.


    The interior of the outer tent was still a humble grass bed. Su¡¯angua¡¯s complexion was much better than the last time. He lay quietly on the bed at an angle, with a strange smile on his face.


    "Ah, greetings, most high king..."


    The elderly priest hastily bowed in salute.


    "Ha ha ha!... Su¡¯angua! Su¡¯angua!"


    Seeing the king of Tarasco on the grass bed, Aweit laughed heartily, nearly to the point of tears. Amidst his unrestrained laughter, memories of the past surged: the spirited valor of the first campaign to the west four years ago, the hardship and weariness during the mountain battles, the pain and unwillingness of the army¡¯s defeat, the terror and panic when being pursued by the Copper-axe Guards, the torment and anguish after losing his right of succession... until the thoroughly satisfying revenge of today!


    "Ha!"


    Aweit burst into laughter and approached, grabbing a hold of Su¡¯angua¡¯s hair to examine his face up close. This was the first time he got to see the King of Tarasco from such proximity, although he had imagined this scene countless times before. The king laughed freely as he examined him, as if he were looking at a precious treasure, with an inner sense of gratification; while the other king remained dormant, his lips curled into a smile, as if unwilling to wake in the cruel world.


    After laughing for a while, Aweit gradually calmed down. Then he turned to the elderly priest and demanded fiercely.


    "How is he?"


    "Ah, respected king! The Sacrifice¡¯s life is not in danger, his body is healthy. He woke up once in the afternoon, and cursed his highness for a while. Since we approached the Capital City, his emotions have been quite unstable... so I fed him a little more of the Potion... Respected king, do you want me to wake him up?"


    "Good!"


    Aweit nodded eagerly. The elderly priest then took out a vial of Potion, pinched Su¡¯angua¡¯s chin, and was about to forcefully administer the medicine. Su¡¯angua kept his lips tightly shut, refusing to open his mouth. Sweat started to form on the priest¡¯s forehead. He glanced surreptitiously at the expressionless king, felt a chill in his heart, and hardened his grip, going straight to choking the other¡¯s neck.


    Observing all this, Aweit¡¯s face began to stiffen. He watched the priest clutch Su¡¯angua¡¯s throat, turning his face purple, yet Su¡¯angua still did not open his mouth, seemingly preferring to suffocate in such a manner.


    "Stop! Let go, stand back!"


    Aweit commanded coldly.


    "After all, he is a noble Divine Descendant king!"


    At these words, the elderly priest released his hold nervously and stepped aside.


    Aweit took a step forward. This time, he simply bent down, staring intently at the man¡¯s face.


    "Su¡¯angua, oh Su¡¯angua. My old friend, my old adversary, you indeed are a proper eagle! Because of you, I lost my throne! Because of you, I suffered the greatest setback of my life!... But in the end, I have risen again, and now I stand before you!...

 Chapter 463 - 230: Night Talk and Oaths, Fief Distribution and Promises!_2

    "In the eyes of the eagle, only the distant peaks exist! Tizoc was the first, and you are the second at my feet! Once the peaks are flown over, everything in the past seems tasteless and even uninteresting to recall... Ah, this world is ultimately vast, and the eagle is destined to conquer it!... It¡¯s just that you will no longer have the chance to see it!..."


    Having said this, Aweit reached out and gently patted Su¡¯angua¡¯s cheek. He gazed at his "old friend¡¯s" sleeping face, then his eyes flickered, revealing a faint smile.


    "Xiulote, let¡¯s go! Next, we must quickly conquer Qinchongcan City!"


    Aweit turned around and walked out of the tent without looking back. Xiulote thought for a moment, gave the sleeping Su¡¯angua another look, and then quickly followed Aweit.


    The aged Priest bowed deeply, respectfully sending off the King and his Highness, before he finally took a deep breath. Then, he muttered a curse under his breath and slapped the sleeping Su¡¯angua twice before going off to prepare a potion.


    The tent grew quiet again, with King Tarasco still deep in slumber. Unbeknownst to anyone, tears began to trickle from the corners of his eyes.


    The starlight was still brilliant, yet the campsite began to quiet down. Aweit stopped in his tracks and found a clear, flat area to sit cross-legged in the grass. He gestured with his hands for his trusted aides to disperse and then signaled for Xiulote to sit beside him.


    The two looked up at the night sky, once again in silence. After a long while, Aweit said with a smile,


    "Xiulote, do you remember the first time we watched the stars?"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and hesitantly asked,


    "That day there were no stars, and you asked me what humanity is?"


    Aweit was stunned for a moment before laughing out loud.


    "That was the second time! The first time you were drunk and told me many things on your mind. About equality, about life... I¡¯ve always remembered it very clearly!"


    "Uh?... I don¡¯t remember that. But it does sound like something I would have said!"


    Xiulote thought for a good while, but his mind was blank, so he could only smile wryly and shake his head.


    "Haha, actually, I had added some potion to the wine that time... Xiulote, my student, do you still believe in those things now?"


    "Hmm... I once firmly believed. Then I didn¡¯t. Now, I somewhat believe again."


    "Oh? Why do you somewhat believe again?"


    "Because, I can now change this world!"


    Xiulote said confidently with a smile.


    Aweit was silent for a while, a sincere smile also appearing on his lips.


    "So fast! In just three years, you have grown to where you are today! Seeing you, I feel like I am the best teacher in the world!"


    "Haha, then I am also the best student in the world!"


    Both kings laughed heartily. Their cheerful laughter echoed under the night sky, as if intending to conquer it.


    "Alright, Xiulote, my child."


    It was a while before Aweit stopped laughing. He turned his head and looked into the young man¡¯s eyes, saying earnestly,


    "The young eagle has grown up! It cannot stay in the mother¡¯s nest. It needs to spread its wings and fly, and it needs its own territory and sky!"


    Hearing his teacher¡¯s words, Xiulote seemed enlightened. He remained silent for a moment and then nodded.


    "The High Priest must have told you about the plan for enfeoffment." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote nodded again.


    Aweit stroked the young man¡¯s head, continuing in a calm tone,


    "Now that we have reached the gates of Qinchongcan and our two armies have successfully met, victory in the western campaign is almost certain, and enfeoffment is close at hand. It¡¯s time to personally talk to you about this matter."


    "Gillim gave me some advice. Some I agree with, some I do not. This year, having been accustomed to martial prowess and bloodshed, you have grown a lot, and I myself have also changed a lot. Now it seems, many things in the world cannot be kept hidden and should be directly discussed!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote was taken aback. He sensed something... The young man looked into Aweit¡¯s eyes, listening carefully.


    "Xiulote, my ambition is to conquer the world! You are my best assistant. With the enfeoffment imminent, it will be difficult to meet again. We must not harbor any resentment between us!"


    You were born into a branch of the Royal Family, and you also have a strong foundation. My youngest child is still small, and my most beloved elder daughter is your fianc¨¦e... Today, I have sworn before the gods and generals: you will be the successor of the Alliance, and this will not change! You also have the capability to manage the Alliance and protect the world I am about to conquer!"


    Xiulote looked into Aweit¡¯s sincere eyes, memories of the past surged in his mind. He pursed his lips and nodded solemnly.


    "Aweit, you can trust me at any time, and I will never betray you!"


    Upon hearing this, Aweit threw back his head and laughed. He affectionately wrapped his arm around the young man¡¯s shoulder, speaking gently.


    "From the day I was rescued from Totec¡¯s hands, I took an oath to my ancestors: as long as you don¡¯t betray me, I will make you the jade to inherit the world! The ancestors¡¯ position is higher than that of the gods. In my heart, Lisa and you are the only two people I can fully trust!"


    Saying this, Aweit reached into his bosom, pulling out a beautifully wrapped cotton cloth and a blue sachet.


    "Here, this is a letter from Lisa for you, and this small sachet. Don¡¯t open it now, wait until you get home. Ah, my daughter has grown up, and her thoughts cannot be contained any longer. In her heart, you probably matter more than I do. She has never written such a long letter to me..."

 Chapter 464 - 230: Night Conversations and Vows, Feudal Grants and Promises!_3

    Xiulote carefully placed the letter and sachet into his bosom, keeping them close to his body. Inside, there was also the longing he had awaited for so long.


    Aweit sighed, looked at the starry skies for a while, and then said with a smile,


    "Let¡¯s continue discussing the division of land. After conquering the Tarasco Kingdom, I plan to divide the land in the lake, roughly into three parts."


    Xiulote stood up straight, listening intently to Aweit¡¯s arrangements.


    "First is your fief. To the north, it goes up to the long Lerma River, to the east to the mountains of the Apachigan State, and to the south to the vast Tarsas River. The flourishing Patzcuaro Lake Region, the important southern copper mines of the Lake Region, the majestic Qinchongcan City, and the rich Ihuatzio City... I entrust all these places to you! As long as you can effectively control the situation, most of the kingdom will be your fief!"


    "Xiulote, my student, I should live a long time yet! And it will be a very long time before you return to the capital city. During such a long time, you should be given the opportunity to wage war. Therefore, I will not set the western boundary of your fief. This westward campaign will stop at Qinchongcan City; after that, the focus will be on the Tlaxcala people. The further west Chapala Lake Region, the southwest Colima Mountain Region, the northwest Guamal Canine Descendants, and even the far North Tekos, I leave to you to slowly conquer!"


    Hearing such frank words, Xiulote broke into a slight sweat on his forehead, and his heart was full of emotion. He did not know what to say and could only bow deeply in respect.


    "Your Majesty... Aweit... I..."


    "No rush! As a king, I must make the necessary arrangements, and also to prevent others from inciting you to do foolish things that would put me in a difficult position."


    Aweit laughed heartily and patted Xiulote¡¯s shoulder once more.


    "Next is the nobleman Tepopolo of honor. He has relinquished the nominal fief of Tlatelolco City and requested to move to a foreign state. His fief will be on both sides of the Lerma River. The ring of wooden forts on the north coast, the state of Akanbaro on the south coast, and the rivermouth fortress to the west are all granted to his family. These areas are densely forested and sparsely populated, full of fortresses and poor land; they are primarily military territories intended for defense. He won¡¯t be a threat to you."


    At this point, Xiulote was stunned. He opened his mouth to say something, but he did not know how to start.


    "Lastly is Iskali, of the Royal Family. His fief is in the Apachigan State. This fief is even smaller, also primarily for defense, a fully militarized complex of fortresses. Furthermore, he is also responsible for overseeing the new royal direct territory to the south of the Tarsas River, the Weytamo State, which has many copper mines. The copper mines south of Ihuatzio City are given to you, and this region with copper ore will be directly under the Royal Family!"


    Xiulote recalled the map of the lake¡¯s central area in his mind, making Aweit¡¯s arrangements even clearer. The northern Akanbaro State had a strong fortress line, and the southern terrain of Apachigan State was even more formidable. This division effectively created separate military territories along the attack routes of the northern and southern armies, carving out the southern and northern barriers of the Tarasco Kingdom, leaving the heartland to himself.


    Thus, the core of the alliance, the Texcoco Lake District, would maintain a commanding geographical position. Even if the Patzcuaro Lake Region once again became prosperous and powerful, or even if it sought to become independent and rebel, it would hardly threaten the core of the alliance.


    After clarifying these points, Xiulote found it difficult to speak again.


    "Aweit, is this... this plan... designed by Gillim?"


    "Hmm, it¡¯s the Intelligence Officer¡¯s second proposal. Why, Xiulote, are you not satisfied?"


    Aweit¡¯s gentle gaze suddenly sharpened. He looked into Xiulote¡¯s eyes and said with a faint smile,


    "Xiulote, my student. I have already done my utmost to give you the most! According to the Intelligence Officer¡¯s first plan, the Tarasco Kingdom was to be divided into dozens of fragmented small cities, with the local nobility checking and balancing each other... My student, what more do you desire?"


    Xiulote fell silent for a while, clenched his teeth, but still looked into Aweit¡¯s eyes and spoke honestly.


    "Aweit, I want the rivermouth fortress! To subjugate the Chapala Lake Region and Guamal Canine Descendants we need the waterways of the Lerma River. The rivermouth fortress is the best naval base and an excellent center for shipbuilding! Besides, I have a distant idea: to let the naval forces travel along the Lerma River, all the way to the Great Lake, then north, to the many islands on the lake. There are countless natural fertilizers there... I can give up part of the Lake Region fief..."


    Aweit did not speak. He gazed into Xiulote¡¯s sincere eyes and nodded slowly.


    "Good! The Rivermouth fortress was conquered by you, so I am giving it to you! Since you want to build ships, I will also provide you with a group of shipwrights!"


    Xiulote¡¯s face revealed genuine joy. He pondered for a moment, then promised earnestly.


    "The bronze technology of the Prepetcha people is unparalleled. They possess not only the simple skills for red copper but also the sophisticated technology for bronze! The spearheads of the king¡¯s army spears are all made of sturdy bronze, the battle axes of the Copper-axe Guards are also bronze weapons, and even Su¡¯angua has a cumbersome suit of bronze armor!"


    These bronze weapons hold a tremendous advantage. The reason why the Tarasco Kingdom was able to centralize power and become the sole kingdom is by relying on the central bronze technology. Qinchongcan City has always strictly managed the bronze technology as a top secret, and only the softer red copper is exported...


    I have captured a batch of coppersmiths in Ihuatzio City and roughly understand the manufacturing of bronze. Just give me some time to experiment, and I¡¯ll be able to figure out how to build large-scale copper smelting furnaces. Once we conquer Qinchongcan City, I will quickly organize these technologies and hand them over to you. With the ability to mass-produce bronze, the Alliance can effectively reform the mining industry, mass-produce bronze agricultural tools and implements, and then construct roads in the wilderness to connect the Alliance into a kingdom!"


    Aweit listened quietly to Xiulote¡¯s narration. Although he did not understand the craft of these metals, he could discern the excitement in the young man¡¯s words and envision a brand new future. After a while, Aweit responded with a smile.


    "Haha, Xiulote, you are the prince of Divine Revelation. I will leave all these technological inventions to you!"


    Then, Aweit¡¯s expression grew slightly solemn.


    "The people of Tlaxcala from the East have mobilized thirty thousand Samurai, thirty thousand Militia, and have already invaded the southeast of the Alliance, capturing half of the Xochipeople State. And the people of Vastec to the northeast are also showing signs of instability. Along this path, the enemies of the Apachigan State have already surrendered due to lack of provisions, and Commander-in-Chief Quiyus is nowhere to be found. The total of the Southern Army now has just over thirty thousand Samurai and twenty thousand Militia, with most having returned to support. The rest have followed me here. I also will not stay too long in Qinchongcan City."


    "Thirty thousand Samurai, thirty thousand Militia? The Tlaxcala really launched a major invasion?! Is Acap alright in the Holy City Cholula?"


    Xiulote showed surprise. He had been moving through the hinterlands of Tarasco and was not well-informed about distant news.


    "Ha, Acap is very welcomed by the elders in the religious City-States, with sacred smoke, Holy Water, songs and dances, beautiful women¡ªhis days are much more comfortable than ours. As for our old enemy Tlaxcala, I will personally lead the troops into battle! Xiulote, do you have any plans for attacking the formidable Qinchongcan City?"


    "Hmm, regarding the siege, I indeed have some plans. These days, some Nobility from within the city have secretly sent Envoys to contact me. They are willing to collectively surrender on the condition that the Alliance guarantees their fiefs."


    As he said this, Xiulote¡¯s face showed a faint smile.


    "Guaranteeing their fiefs... Well, although a Monarch is a proud eagle, sometimes it can also be like a clever fox, flexibly dealing with the foolish turkeys."


    Aweit chuckled.


    Xiulote too, laughed. He squinted his eyes, smiling like a little fox.


    "That won¡¯t be necessary. I actually have another approach. These days, the legions appeared to be slowly building siege mounds and equipment, lulling the defending army within the city into complacency, while I¡¯ve also been making secret contacts. I¡¯ve been waiting for your reinforcements to arrive so that we can overwhelm Qinchongcan City in one fell swoop!... Yes, that¡¯s the way... Just like that." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh? That¡¯s great! Since you¡¯ve already been planning ahead, then the eight thousand Samurai at my command will also be temporarily placed under your orders!"


    "Ah, thank you your majesty!... Thank you, my mentor!"


    Xiulote bowed deeply on the ground, and Aweit accepted it calmly. The night was deep, and stars scattered across the land, the two kings sat opposite each other. In a few brief exchanges, they decided on matters of national importance; with relaxed and cheerful banter, they set the rise and fall of the world. The long night conversation continued under the gleaming starlight, until dawn approached. The Ziwei Star disappeared to the north, the Baixing star rose from the east to the west, and a new day was about to begin!

 Chapter 465 - 231 Letters and Promises

    The splendid morning sun rose from the horizon, with dawn¡¯s light floating like strands of gold silk, converging into bands of morning glow. Samurai Xiulote stood shoulder to shoulder with Aweit, their pupils reflecting the burning red sun, their chests stirred with grand emotions from afar. It wasn¡¯t until the sky turned completely bright and the sun became unbearable to look at that the two kings bid each other farewell.


    Xiulote returned to his tent. He summoned the veteran Scout Necali and inquired in a low voice about the previous night¡¯s progress, then nodded in satisfaction, letting him go to make preparations. Next, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed Bertade to rest and carefully took out a roll of exquisite cotton cloth from his bosom, delicately unfolding it.


    With the sunlight pouring down from above, Xiulote eagerly looked at it, and crooked, scribbled handwriting came into view, with crude drawings between the paragraphs.


    "...Xiulote, it¡¯s been a year since I¡¯ve seen you! Do you know, I miss you so much. This is what I look like when I¡¯m missing you..."


    Xiulote looked closely, and at the end of the paragraph was a simple drawing of a little figure, sitting on the ground with legs hugged, in front of a few red roses. The young man zoned out for a moment, then eagerly continued reading.


    "...Little Aviloztli has grown bigger already, half as big as me! It¡¯s not afraid of the little green one anymore. It can fly very fast, carrying my longing to you... It can fly very high, up to the distant places like you... But after flying, it always returns to my side... You¡¯ll come back too, right?..."


    Xiulote blinked his eyes. He looked at the crude drawing of the little bird, a white cloud beside it, and a small snake underneath looking up... Longing flooded into his heart like a tide.


    "...I am now a qualified Pharmacist! I can remember the properties of hundreds of herbs, I can make many potions that heal ailments, and I can also mix Holy Water that makes people happy... Father says I am the spirit of the plants, but I said, ¡¯No, I am Xiulote¡¯s spirit.¡¯... Hmm, Father suddenly became unhappy..."


    Xiulote chuckled upon reading this, a warmth flowing through his heart. At the end of the paragraph was a drawing of a small hand holding a green herb. He touched the drawing at the end, as if he were holding the girl¡¯s soft, slender fingers.


    "...I¡¯ve grown up a little more, and the maids all say I am pretty, like a beautiful white flower... They also say I smell like a flower, but I can¡¯t smell it myself... Um, is that true? Xiulote, would you like to come smell me, and then tell me the answer..."


    The young man¡¯s heart pounded suddenly as he continued to read, listening to the girl¡¯s whispers.


    "Alright, draw a flower, then draw a Hummingbird... I am a little flower, waiting for you. I want to turn you into a Hummingbird, flying very fast, all the way to my side. If the Hummingbird lands in the flower, I will enfold it, and it will enter my heart too...


    ...I will also feed it sweet dew, the very sweet kind... Um, if you don¡¯t believe me, you can come and kiss me... sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ...I even want to look into his eyes, from day to night, just like the stars in the sky..."


    Xiulote forgot to breathe. A strong longing surged in his chest, even causing palpitations. He looked at the girl¡¯s drawing, picturing her appearance. At that moment, he wanted to become an eagle, flying back to the Lake Capital City, wanting to hold her in his arms and never let go...


    After a long while, the young man pursed his lips and began to read the last part of the letter.


    "...Xiulote, I¡¯ve heard a lot of news about you in the Capital City... Everyone is in awe of you... I am happy but also worried... The battlefield is very dangerous, you and father must take good care of yourselves! You two are the people I love the most in this world...


    Before setting out, Father asked me a terrible question. ¡¯If one of Xiulote and I were to die in battle, whom would you choose?¡¯... I was very afraid, terribly afraid... I told Father, ¡¯If the gods must take someone away, I would choose to sacrifice myself¡¯... Father was silent for a while... He promised me he would be alright... Xiulote, you must promise me too..."


    At the end of the letter were drawings of two samurai figures, one taller with a weapon in his left hand, the other shorter with a weapon in his right hand. And between them was another simple figure, with each hand holding a samurai¡¯s hand, then, her face showing a radiant smile.


    Xiulote was silent for a long time. He stared at the drawing at the end, at the smile of the tiny figure, yearning for the distant person. After a long time, he once again carefully rolled up the letter and placed it close to his heart. Next, he touched a soft Sachet. The young man sniffed the sachet, inside was a faint floral scent. He carefully opened it only to find a lock of hair.


    Xiulote was stunned, slowly bowing his head, pressing the sachet tightly against his face. It wasn¡¯t until a while later that he murmured a promise.


    "Yes, you are the scented flower... I promise you... that both Aweit and I will... be alright."


    The sunlight fell, the breeze wafted, and the flowers of spring bloomed in the fields of the Lake Region. The young king¡¯s promise would accompany the blossoms, drifting into the river of time~


    At the same moment, at a not-too-distant place, atop the South City wall of Qinchongcan City...


    "Is this a letter from Prince Mexica?"


    Huitu Puapu stood in the corner of an attic on the city wall, surrounded only by a few trusted samurai and Militia. He lifted the pristine sheet of paper above his head, examining it thoroughly in the light of the morning sun.


    "Old Qi, what exactly is written on this?"

 Chapter 466 - 231 Letters and Promises_2

    Puap looked blankly for a long while, his eyes widening in confusion as he murmured softly. His head spun as he stared at the square characters, as though he were facing the Divine Script of the temple priests.


    "Sir, what a good question you¡¯ve asked! How could a humble militiaman like me know the Divine Script of the Mexica?"


    The old militia Chiwaco smiled, dodged Puap¡¯s fist, and leaned in to whisper.


    "Sir, last night the nobility who contacted me mentioned... Look at this corner! This symbol is the seal of His Highness of Mexica."


    Puap examined it carefully and saw only three neat squares surrounded by a circle of red stamping, the precious rouge-red dye.


    "Sir, look beneath the seal at the pattern. These two small figures, the kneeling one is you!"


    "What? You¡¯re the one who¡¯s kneeling!"


    Puap slapped Chiwaco on the shoulder, causing him to grimace in pain. Ever since returning to the Capital City, he had regathered a dozen or so loyal samurai, still a respected master. After the reinforcements disbanded, most of the Hummingbird Family¡¯s chief samurai had fallen in battle, and those who were left were even more cherished. Now, Master Puap not only was in charge of the defense of the southern gate of the Capital City but also had been newly assigned over five hundred militia under his command.


    "Sir, even if I wanted to kneel, I wouldn¡¯t have the opportunity! Look, the one standing is His Highness of Mexica, holding your hair, bestowing a noble title upon you. The yellow robe on you and the green Long Feathers are the symbols of Second Level hereditary Nobility!"


    Upon hearing this, light nearly emanated from Puap¡¯s eyes. He greedily gazed at the drawing in the corner, as if he wanted to swallow the letter whole. After a while, the Huitu master let out a deep sigh.


    "Alas! My Huitu family has served the Hummingbird Family for generations, and my ancestors all died on the battlefield, yet I¡¯m still nothing more than an experienced samurai without any renown. Only thanks to the Chief¡¯s grace did I become a Military Noble for just a few months, free from being ordered around by the Nobility and Priests, but in reality, I am of no consequence... This Prince of Mexica, handing out hereditary nobility titles so freely..."


    "Sir, isn¡¯t being a hereditary noble a good thing? That¡¯s as tall as a cocoa tree, so much higher than a cornstalk! From now on, you¡¯ll be a Great Nobility of the Alliance, and so will your son!"


    Chiwaco said with a chuckle, genuine envy in his voice.


    "That¡¯s good indeed... But I, Master, am feeling quite bewildered right now... After all, the Chief has been good to me!..."


    As Puap sighed, he carefully rolled up the letter and tucked it away close to his body. Then, he extended his hand, anxiously asking.


    "Did you say His Highness gave you his Jade Talisman too? Where is it? Give it to me, quick!"


    Chiwaco smiled sheepishly. He fumbled in his chest for a long time before reluctantly taking out a delicate Jade Pendant.


    "Sir, this is a token for contact, even the nobility who sent the letter are envious of it! They say that with this Jade Pendant, you could meet His Highness of Mexica... You must keep it safe!"


    "Nonsense!"


    Puap snatched the Jade Pendant. He examined the jade carving meticulously, the same three neat squares as on the letter. The Huitu master then beamed with joy, securing the Jade Pendant close to his body as he spoke with a smile.


    "Great, just great, the Prince is truly generous! Old Chi, I tell you, the promised wealth isn¡¯t worth much. What is not in this city? I can lead you to get much more!... But only with the Prince¡¯s support can the possessions be kept safe..."


    Chiwaco nodded in agreement. Then, he straightened his face, looked around, and became serious.


    "The Mexica said we will act the night after tomorrow."


    Puap too, stopped smiling. He waved his hand, signaling his confidants to disperse and then asked in a low voice, S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "When exactly?"


    "The moon rose to the middle of the sky, and everyone had fallen asleep. By then, a squad of elite scouts will have entered the city first, followed by the main force of samurai. The problem is that the city gates have been blocked, so entry will be much more troublesome... I¡¯ll go prepare more rope ladders for the city walls..."


    "Ha, that¡¯s not a problem to worry about!"


    At this point, Puap revealed a smug smile on his face.


    "The city walls are very tall, and climbing the walls would easily be spotted by the enemy. Old man Qi, you¡¯re a countryman and lack worldly experience! In fact, there¡¯s a secret door built into this part of the South City wall, initially intended to facilitate surprise attacks by the defending army. Later, it became a secret route for smugglers to enter the city. Ha, not many people know about this dark gate, and I am one of them. My family made a fortune through this in the past! As soon as we got back to the city, I dispatched a few samurai to take control of the secret door on the south wall."


    "Ah, a secret door? Where is it? My lord, I guard the city wall every day and haven¡¯t seen any vulnerabilities!"


    "Foolish! How could it be a secret door if it could be seen? Of course, there are arrangements inside and out, and it only allows one person to pass through at a time. But recently a few samurai from the Nobility families have been loitering around the secret door... It seems that many have the same idea, so I can¡¯t delay any longer..."


    "As for the South City gate, it was I who personally led you to block it. When we were doing the work, I kept an ace up my sleeve; only the outermost layer was truly blocked off. As long as we have enough manpower, we can open it from the inside in just a quarter hour!"


    "My lord is truly wise!"


    Hearing this, Chiwaco bowed with admiration, his old face brimming with a smile. Then, as if something occurred to him, he asked in a low voice.


    "Manpower is the problem. I only have about thirty trustworthy men at hand. Most are Militia who have shared life and death with us during the last sortie, along with some old brothers from my hometown. My lord, how many men do you have?"


    Hearing this, Puap gave an embarrassed smile.


    "There¡¯s no need to talk of ¡¯yours¡¯ or ¡¯mine¡¯... There are not many people in the family, and I dare not call upon many old acquaintances, fearing the plans may leak... I have roughly twenty or so reliable men at hand, all of them samurai."


    The two raised their heads, staring at each other in silence for a moment. In this city of tens of thousands, fifty-odd men truly seemed insignificant. After a moment, it was the old Militiaman who spoke first.


    "My lord, there¡¯s no need to worry, you have five hundred Militia under you! The country folks don¡¯t have too many concerns, all were conscripted to defend the city. Treat them well with good food and drink for the next couple of days. The night after tomorrow, once the Mexica scouts have entered the city, we¡¯ll take control of the Militia, then force them to act with us! Once the city gate is open and the main force of samurai enters the city, there¡¯ll be nothing left to worry about!"


    Upon hearing the old Militiaman¡¯s encouragement, Puap nodded vigorously.


    "Old man Qi, you¡¯re good at working with the Militia. Accompany me in this task for the next couple of days too!"


    "Sure!... My lord, actually, I have another idea... Once the Mexica have entered the city and chaos erupts... we..."


    After hearing Chiwaco¡¯s words, Puap leaned against the parapet on the city wall, silent with his head bowed. The sun shone on the parapet, casting long shadows that also veiled the face of the samurai from Huitu.


    "My lord?"


    Chiwaco¡¯s eyes flickered questioningly.


    After a long pause, Puap finally let out a long breath, his voice as though coming from the depths of the Abyss.


    "As you say! Alas, may the three gods forgive us..."


    The deep voice dissipated into the wind and reached Chiwaco¡¯s ears. The old Militiaman gripped his copper spear, his lips curving into a faint smile. He looked up at the bright sun in the sky. The sunlight fell on his face and slowly scattered, spreading into a profound smile.


    "My lord, you misspoke. It¡¯s the Chief Divine who will protect us."

 Chapter 467 - 232: Breaching the City (Part One)

    "Luwei, my daughter... remember your daddy¡¯s words. Tonight you must hide inside here and not come out! No matter what you hear, don¡¯t come out!"


    The old militiaman Chiwaco squatted in a corner of the hut, whispering the instruction again and again. He reached out his hand towards the ground, and his palm disappeared into thin air.


    The fire pit inside the hut flickered with a dim glow, illuminating the simple straw hut and outlining the shadows in the corner. Unbeknownst, a small hole had appeared in the earthen floor. Hidden within the hole was a small figure. The old militiaman affectionately touched the figure¡¯s head, unable to resist repeating himself.


    "Don¡¯t come out no matter what! Wait for daddy to come back."


    In the cramped hole, the young Luwei nodded timidly. Beside her was a jug of water, a few pieces of cornbread, and a small basket of dried fruit. Chiwaco squatted down to look at his daughter for a while before remembering the gift he had brought back. He fumbled in his bosom for a moment and pulled out a rare piece of dried deer meat, carefully handing it into the hole.


    Smelling the aroma of the dried meat, Luwei¡¯s eyes lit up. She took the meat from her daddy¡¯s hand and started nibbling on it. The meat was thin and not too hard; Luwei chewed it carefully, like a little hamster gnawing.


    A tender smile emerged on Chiwaco¡¯s face. After watching his daughter for a while, he could not resist pinching Luwei¡¯s little cheek before sighing and saying.


    "Luwei, daddy has to go now. Daddy has many things to do today... I have to avenge you, your brother, and your mother... If I don¡¯t come back, you have to take care of yourself..."


    Luwei shook her head, struggling to free her little face from Chiwaco¡¯s hand. Then, she continued to cheerfully gnaw on the dried meat, seemingly unaware of her daddy¡¯s words.


    Chiwaco sighed again. How could such a small daughter possibly take care of herself? He watched her a while longer before reluctantly getting up, carrying over two bundles of straw to cover the entrance of the hole, leaving a gap for ventilation. Then he looked around the shabby home, flung the clay pot to the ground to smash it, overturned several clay jars, and kicked the straw bed around so it was scattered everywhere.


    After creating the appearance of a ransacked home, Chiwaco took one last look toward the hole. Luwei obediently hid inside, not making a sound. The old militiaman smiled, extinguishing the fire in the hearth, pushed the door open, and left it ajar as he departed. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At the doorway, Weizti wrapped in a headscarf, holding a spear, stared blankly at the moon, lost in thought. It was more than a week into May, and the waning half-moon hung in the night sky like a half-eaten biscuit. The old militiaman stepped forward and forcefully patted the shoulder of the daydreamer.


    "Weizti, is everything taken care of?"


    "Hmm. There wasn¡¯t much to take care of."


    Weizti replied in a low voice.


    Chiwaco nodded and then, gripping his spear, strode toward South City.


    "Let¡¯s go. Time to hit the road!"


    Soon, the remaining old brothers gathered one after another. The group didn¡¯t speak, quietly advancing under the faint moonlight.


    The Capital City at night was like the waning moon. The half near the city gates was the Civilian District, desolate and rarely lit by firelight. The half closer to the inside was the Nobility District, bright with lights and still bustling.


    In the distance, the towering House of Wind stood tall, its Sacred Fire illuminating the skies. The solemn and sacred hymns drifted in the wind. Priests prayed throughout the night, beseeching the spirits for blessings, victory, and that the grand Capital City would never fall.


    Amidst the priests¡¯ chanting, a cold smile played across Chiwaco¡¯s lips. Soon, the cold smile gave way to a forced grin. A patrol of samurai passed by, with the leading nobleman asking a few detailed questions before gesturing for the militiamen and samurai to "scram."


    Silently, the men continued their walk, heads bowed, until they reached the South City gates. Puap had already been anxiously waiting there with a dozen samurai.


    "Old Chiwaco, have you made all the arrangements?"


    "Yes, I have. What about you, master?"


    "Ha! Arrange? What¡¯s there for me to arrange? If I die tonight, will my wife and kids survive? Besides, there are too many people at home; if I really arranged something, it might leak out."


    "The master is wise and resolute, fit for great undertakings."


    Chiwaco spoke in a low, sycophantic tone. Then, he glanced at the city walls nearby and cautiously asked.


    "Master, what about the militiamen on the city walls?"


    "They¡¯re all in the houses. Today, I collected a supply of fruit wine, then found an excuse to gather the militiamen together. They¡¯ve been drinking all night, and by now they must be sleeping like logs in their places."


    Puap was clearly edgy. Following the old militiaman¡¯s gaze, he glanced at the sparse figures on this section of the wall and spoke impatiently.


    "Relax, the few men on the walls are ours. The secret doors below have been cleared. Now we just wait for the Mexica to arrive!"


    Chiwaco nodded. He turned to the youngest, Ayuli, and said.


    "Little Ayuli, you¡¯re the most agile. Take the token for the rendezvous and wait outside the city."


    Ayuli blinked and headed toward the secret door. Chiwaco looked around for a moment more, then moved into the shadows at the base of the wall to wait patiently.


    Puap glanced at the deep night sky, then at the distant palace flames. He paced back and forth restlessly, then couldn¡¯t help but blurt out.


    "Why haven¡¯t they come yet?"


    The old militiaman raised his head, checked the position of the moon, and answered patiently.

 Chapter 468 - 232: Breaching the City Part 2

    "The moon has not reached its zenith yet. No need to rush, the Mexica will come... They are more anxious than we are."


    The night wind blew, and a dark cloud slowly drifted over, obstructing the dim moonlight, making the sky even darker. The sound of the wind howled through the city walls, like a low, mournful dirge. Suddenly, several deep hoots of night owls, "hoo hoo," came from outside the city.


    Puap¡¯s spirits lifted. He looked up at the city walls, where a torch shook and then circled a few times repetitively.


    "The Mexica have finally arrived!"


    Not far outside the city, Necali crouched, looking up at the shaking torch on the city walls. Then, turning to the elite scouts behind him, he whispered.


    "This is it! Get close to the city wall, and keep quiet."


    After speaking, the seasoned scout crouched down and approached the edge of this segment of the city wall. The city wall, heavily guarded during the day, was now eerily deserted. Large piles of stones and ash jars were placed on the city¡¯s crest, which made Necali¡¯s palms sweat. Near the wall¡¯s defensive equipment, a few sparse Defending Army members peeked out. Seeing the Mexica scouts rapidly approaching, they simply nodded in delight.


    "Come, the secret door is here!"


    A slender figure suddenly emerged from beneath the city wall. Little Ayuli was energetically waving his right hand, holding a red wooden board. Necali drew his bronze axe from his waist and quickly stepped forward. After glancing at the shape of the wooden board, he again signaled quietly to those behind him.


    Under the faint moonlight, Mexica scouts followed Ayuli¡¯s figure to a rough and uneven section of the wall. Ayuli squatted down and then disappeared from the scout¡¯s sight. Necali hastily moved forward and bent down to examine. He realized that at the base of the wall there was a very inconspicuous hole. The hole sloped downward to the side, very narrow, barely wide enough for one person to pass through with difficulty.


    "I hate burrowing like a wild rabbit!"


    Necali grumbled resentfully as he squeezed his body into the hole. What sort of secret door was this? It was clearly a tight tunnel! The walls were roughened with pits and uneven surfaces, scraping marks into his leather armor. After crawling for not much longer, the scout¡¯s forehead was already sweating again. In such terrain, he couldn¡¯t even stand upright. If there were two people blocking the other end, it¡¯d be like spearing fish on land, a certain death for each one speared.


    After a struggle lasting dozens of breaths, the exit of the tunnel became clearly visible. Holding his breath, Necali cautiously reached out his hand to feel around. But another pair of calloused, large hands grabbed him and with a strong pull up, dragged him out from the tunnel.


    "Chief Divine protect! We meet again, Mexica!"


    Chiwaco¡¯s face was smiling.


    "Hmm. Chief Divine protect! Thank you for your help, Prepetcha."


    Necali had just steadied himself on the ground when he eagerly began to look around. The tall stone walls once seemed impregnable yet now stood behind him. And before his eyes lay the magnificent and bustling Capital City! The glorious pyramids lit the Sacred Fire, the towering Palace of Wind shone bright with candlelight. And on the streets at the city center, countless lights twinkled like stars. The light flickered among the nobility¡¯s gardens, resembling the Starlight scattered across the night sky!


    Seeing all this, a wolf-like grin spread across Necali¡¯s face. He greedily watched for a moment, then turned around to help the following scouts into the city. The old militiaman¡¯s expression was calm, observing as more and more Mexica samurai gathered. These warriors wore Tarasco-standard leather armor and strapped light bronze axes to their waists, their demeanor fierce and resolute, much like the former Copper-axe Guards.


    The moonlight flowed quietly. About a quarter of an hour later, the area by the tunnel had amassed over a hundred elite Mexica, each donning armor and wielding an axe, their eyes filled with the intent to kill. Watching these stern and formidable Mexica warriors, Huitu Puap shivered, suddenly feeling regret.


    Seeing Puap¡¯s expression, Necali gripped his bronze axe tighter and sneered with a smile.


    "Hey, partner from Prepetcha. It¡¯s time to open the city gates now, isn¡¯t it?"


    Huitu Puap bit his lip and shook his head.


    "Wait a little longer... The noise from the digging is loud, and it might draw the patrol¡¯s attention... We don¡¯t have enough people yet. By the way, the Defending Army in this section is under my command, all arranged in the houses up ahead, we need to deal with them as well. Bring some warriors and come with me; we¡¯ll round them up first..."


    Upon hearing this, Necali frowned. He asked, puzzled.


    "You can¡¯t control your own men?"


    "I haven¡¯t been in charge of this troop for long, and I have too few trustworthy confidants. As for something like tonight¡¯s affair, the fewer people who know, the better..."


    "Fine! Lead the way ahead." S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Necali nodded expressionlessly. He looked around, estimated the number of insiders, and began to take the initiative. The seasoned scout gestured, and nearly a hundred Mexica samurai followed Puap and the old militia toward a row of large houses not too far away.


    "Which houses have people?"


    "To defend the city, households near the wall have been relocated by the chief, only the Militia are left here. Starting from here, all the way to here... Later, you¡¯ll block the doors, and I¡¯ll send men to wake them up batch by batch and force them to join us..."


    "No need for such trouble!"


    Necali abruptly cut off Puap¡¯s words with a cold demeanor, a cruel smile spreading across his face.


    "Are all your men here?"


    Looking at Necali¡¯s cold smile, a chill went down Puap¡¯s spine. He instinctively glanced at the old militiaman. The man sighed and looked down as if he hadn¡¯t heard anything.

 Chapter 469 - 232: Breaching the City Part 3

    "Yes... but..."


    "You all go in, not a single one spared!"


    Necali looked toward the Mexica samurai beside him and coldly issued the command. Hundreds of elite samurai grasped their axes, silently nodded in agreement, and swiftly, like hunting packs of wolves, disappeared into the large house ahead.


    "Damn it! You..."


    Puap opened his mouth to speak but was met with the cold eyes of the seasoned Scout. He felt the undisguised intent to kill in the other¡¯s gaze and wisely shut his mouth again.


    The dark night was peaceful, the warm breeze carried the scent of alcohol. Soon, faint sounds of disturbance arose from within the houses, accompanied by the sound of blood flowing from axe-wounds. Several muffled screams penetrated the air, their faintness belied an eerie intensity. Puap inhaled sharply; he could smell the thick scent of blood as if it emanated from his own hands.


    Chiwaco shuddered when he smelled the blood in the air. He lifted his head to look at Weizti beside him. The lanky man stared dumbly at the cold Necali, recalling that he had once harshly struck him twice... He could not help but shiver as well. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sensing the gaze upon him, the seasoned Scout sharply turned his head, giving a cold smile. Weizti immediately quieted and lowered his head. Necali pursed his lips and continued to patiently wait. Before long, the houses quickly returned to silence, teams of samurai gradually emerged. Their expressions still calm, only their bronze axes hung low, dripping with fresh blood.


    "Have you all cleaned up?"


    "Yes, it¡¯s clean, captain."


    Necali nodded in satisfaction. He looked around, counting on his palms, the number of elite samurai who had entered the city had already exceeded two hundred.


    "That¡¯s about right. You, come here, take us to the city gate!"


    Faced with the large group of elite Mexica, feeling the boiling killing intent, Puap froze like an insect in the chill, simply nodding silently. He led Necali to the gate of the city. Nearby torches had been completely extinguished, only the faint moonlight from the sky fell on the cold samurai.


    "These are the prepared stone shovels... mainly the outer layer... the inside is actually hollow..."


    By the moonlight, Necali examined the city gate that would be sealed and frowned again. He pointed to both sides, and nearly half of the Scouts dispersed to secure the perimeter around the city gate.


    "How long will this take?"


    "About a quarter hour. If there are enough men and they work hard, probably just over two quarters."


    "Good. Start working, and make it quick!"


    "The moonlight is quite dim. Can you see clearly? If not, light the torches."


    Puap hesitated to ask.


    "No need. Everyone here can fight in the night... the less noise before the city gate opens, the better."


    "That¡¯s right!... Captain lord, there will be patrol teams at night... We have enough people here. It¡¯s best we go there, and watch the intersection in advance."


    Chiwaco raised his head. He pointed to a large house half a street away and suggested with a smile.


    Necali looked at the position of the house and slowly nodded. A group of several dozen people then headed toward the house. A fire pit in the center of the house had already been lit, surrounded by a circle of clay bowls, some cakes and fruits, and two jars of open fruit wine. From several dozen steps away, an enticing aroma drifted through the air.


    "Oh, that¡¯s clever! Whose idea was this?"


    Necali instantly understood. He smiled at the group, and the old Militia also smiled. The group sat down in the house, pouring wine into their bowls. From a distance, the gathering of people drinking looked harmoniously united.


    The firelight flickered, time ticked away, the ticking sound echoing faintly from ahead. Under the deep night sky, a team of samurai patrolling through the night finally approached, carrying torches and striding toward them!

 Chapter 470 - 233: Breaching the City Part 2

    The faint moonlight illuminated the streets, making the deep night in the Capital City filled with a tense atmosphere. A flickering torch became ever clearer, as a squad of twenty people from Tarasco appeared at the end of the street.


    "You wait here and be ready... Old man Qi, take a few people and come with me to check it out." S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Puap gritted his teeth and looked at Necali. The veteran Scout squinted and slowly nodded his head.


    A few of them, gripping their long spears, walked out from the large house. Puap stood and watched until the familiar figures appeared in front of him; then he licked his lips and stepped forward to greet them.


    "Youpil! How¡¯s the patrol tonight? Any unusual situations?"


    "Eh, Puap? It¡¯s so late, and you¡¯re still not asleep?"


    Under the bright torch, the leading Samurai, young and dressed in the same leather armor as Puap, also had the Hummingbird family emblem engraved on it. He recognized Puap¡¯s distressed look and clapped his old friend on the shoulder.


    "Huitu, why do you look like someone in your family died? If something¡¯s bothering you, spill it out and let your brothers have a laugh!"


    Watching Youpil approaching, Puap tightened his grip on the spear in his hand; his face stiffened with a forced smile.


    "Haha, it¡¯s the Mexica laying siege. I¡¯m a bit nervous and can¡¯t sleep at night..."


    "Yeah, my lord, the Mexica are indeed terrifying! Two weeks ago, we went out of the city to assist, and saw tens of thousands fighting, with the dead piling up like weeds. That scene still wakes me up in my sleep! Later, the Mexica chased us for two days, and a leopard almost bit off my rear end; I barely made it back..."


    At this moment, the old Militia, patting his chest, added with great trepidation.


    Youpil glanced at the panic-stricken expression of the old Militia, scoffed disdainfully, but doubted nothing. He smiled and said to his old friend.


    "Puap, you¡¯ve always been fearless. What happened this time that now even the dark scares you! Don¡¯t worry, judging by the situation outside the city, it¡¯s still early before they attack..."


    At this point, Youpil sniffed deeply.


    "...What¡¯s that smell? Alcohol? You still have booze to drink?! Damn, you¡¯ve really made it big, the chief sure takes good care of you!..."


    "Yeah, just having some drinks with a few brothers, keeping an eye on the situation in the city. Not long ago, the chief personally summoned me, telling me to be cautious of the shameless nobility inside the city..."


    "That¡¯s right! The chief warns us family warriors like this. The central nobility district is also a key area for nightly patrols; I just came from there."


    "How are the nobility doing?"


    "Hmm, even at this time, they¡¯re still constantly gathering, the lights burning all night! Outwardly it¡¯s socializing and drinking, reciting poetry, but who knows what they¡¯re discussing behind closed doors! But the chief, with his martial prowess and decisive orders, commands us all to keep a close watch, they won¡¯t be able to turn the skies!"


    "Right, the chief is wise... Youpil, do you want to join us for a drink?"


    Faced with the proposal, Youpil sniffed again, and his throat made a gulping sound, evidently tempted.


    "I¡¯m on night patrol, and still have to make another round... Is that okay?"


    "Look, just in the house up ahead."


    Puap gestured to the side and scanned the patrolling crowd. The front row of Samurai all wore thin silver necklaces, with bone whistles hanging from them.


    "Rewarded by the chief, to placate the barbarians of Tekos with fruit wine. This is a precious reserve from the Royal Family, drink it now or else the barbarians get it all!..."


    "Ah, Royal Family¡¯s reserve!...What right do barbarians have to drink these...well, I¡¯ll just try a little."


    Youpil rubbed his hands and followed Puap to a large house next door. Just as they were about to reach the door, he suddenly remembered something and called out to the last few newcomers.


    "You new ones, stay at the door and wait! We still need to patrol later!"


    The newcomers had to suppress their cravings and obediently stayed by the door. Puap signaled to the old Militia, who also holding onto his spear, stayed outside the door.


    As soon as they entered the house, Youpil stopped short. He glanced at the twenty or thirty Samurai in the room, surprised and admiring.


    "Eh, you¡¯ve done well, lad! You have so many elite warriors under your command?..."


    "Oh, this is...this is because the chief values the defense of the South City, and recently assigned these warriors to me. They said these are the Royal Army¡¯s deserters, redeeming themselves through service..."


    The last few words, Puap deliberately lowered his voice. Then he chuckled as he poured a bowl of alcohol, offering it to his old friend.


    "Come, don¡¯t think too much! Drink with us!"


    Youpil¡¯s gaze lingered on Necali¡¯s bronze axe at his waist, and he slowly nodded. His expression was complex as he accepted the drink and downed it all at once.


    "Royal Army... Imperial Guards... Hah, delicious! It¡¯s been a long time since I had such good alcohol, come, fill it up again! Brothers, enjoy your drink!"


    The patrol members then placed their long spears by the door and crowded around the large clay pot, eagerly starting to drink.


    Puap looked at his childhood friend, paused thoughtfully, and then spoke meaningfully.


    "Youpil, my old friend! I must tell you, this time leaving the city was like escaping death itself, almost ran my legs off!"


    Upon hearing this, Youpil was taken aback, yet still managed to joke.


    "Escaping death? Ran your legs off? Hah! Couple of days ago, we went to the logistical camp together, you were drunk as a lord, shouting, ¡¯It¡¯s over, it¡¯s done¡¯, insisting on finding a few pale city girls to cheer... Turns out it was all just drooling from afar!"


    At that, Necali¡¯s eyes turned cold. Puap opened his mouth but found it hard to speak. With the chief suppressing the entire city, several Noble families were arrested, and their relatives taken to the logistical camp. The warriors forcibly collected surplus food, and even the common households in the city began to lack food, with many selling their children... Puap liked this kind of thrill, especially at a critical moment of massive undertakings; he couldn¡¯t help but succumb to his impulse once.

 Chapter 471 - 233 Siege Broken Part_2

    "...Bullshit! I¡¯m as valiant as ever... But, Youpil, our families have been old friends for generations, and we¡¯ve known each other since we were kids. To say something I shouldn¡¯t, sometimes I truly feel... the kingdom is probably..."


    Puap let out a deep sigh. He looked up into his old friend¡¯s eyes, gauging the changes in his expression.


    "When two nations go to war, even the mountains crumble. Youpil, we¡¯re just ordinary samurai, what can we do?" Hearing this, Youpil didn¡¯t speak. He filled his bowl with liquor to the brim, drank it in one gulp, then wiped the residue from his mouth before heaving a long sigh.


    "What can we do?... Since we are samurai, brilliant as flowers, there will always come a time when the flowers wilt! Today we drink in agony, gripping the weapons in our hands; tomorrow we bleed upon the earth, falling with a smile into the Netherworld. Puap, our ancestors died in battle for the head of our clan, so let¡¯s die for our leader as well! Come, let¡¯s drink a few more bowls!"


    Upon hearing this, Puap lowered his head to conceal the changing expressions on his face. The smiles of his ancestors reappeared in his mind... He shook his head fiercely, trying to forget the dead, and poured another bowl of liquor, drinking it with a gulp.


    On the other side, Necali was also visibly moved by Youpil¡¯s words. He observed the Patrol Captain¡¯s expression and slowly tightened his grip on the bronze axe.


    Outside the great house, a few rookies stared inside, swallowing hard with envy. The city was in need of samurai, most of them having been conscripted from the militia. The sole Tarasco samurai shook his head, pursed his lips, and forced himself to look away, turning his gaze toward the streets in the distance. A moment later, a hint of confusion crossed the samurai¡¯s face.


    "Sounds like... there¡¯s some noise?"


    The Tarasco samurai took a step forward, following the barely perceptible sound of the wind, looking toward the southern city gate. Tonight was pitch-black, with no lights at the city gate. Squinting through the faint moonlight, he seemed to see some swaying shadows.


    "Eh, what¡¯s that?"


    The Tarasco samurai¡¯s eyes widened, and without hesitation, he turned and headed inside.


    "Captain!... The city gate... uh, ah!"


    The tip of a long spear suddenly pierced through the Tarasco samurai¡¯s abdomen, eliciting a piercing scream as he collapsed limply to the right. Behind him, an old militiaman looked on with cold indifference, stirring his hands forcefully. The spear was pulled out with a "pfft" from the warrior¡¯s body, and blood sprayed instantly!


    "Attack!"


    Necali leaped up from the ground, his battle axe severing the nearest patrol member¡¯s neck as he commanded in a low voice.


    "Not one should survive!" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    More than twenty Mexica warriors inside the house drew their axes at once. The clay bowls fell to the ground, shattering with a clear sound; the fruit liquor spilled out, spreading a captivating aroma. Then with the cleaving of the bronze axes, one by one, the figures struggled and fell to the ground, too late to blow the bone whistle, leaving only their blood to flow freely.


    "You... you... Puap!"


    Youpil¡¯s eyes were bloodshot. His right hand desperately brandished the short dagger he carried, and he bellowed in anger.


    "Puap! What are you doing!"


    Looking ashamed, the Huitu warrior drew the war club from his waist, holding it in front of him but hesitating to strike.


    "Youpil, my brother... The king is dead, the nation has fallen, the Mexica have entered the city!... Join the great Alliance with me! I guarantee the safety of your family..."


    "Mexica?! Go to hell!"


    Youpil, like a frenzied tiger, lunged forward, stabbing with the dagger in his hand.


    "This is how you repay the Chief! Generations of loyalty from your family! And you bring the Mexica into the city!!"


    "Youpil, listen to me! If we surrender, we can preserve the Chief¡¯s..."


    "Uh... Ah!..."


    Youpil attacked with abandon, while Puap struggled to justify himself. At that moment, a sharp bronze axe, showing no mercy, struck from behind, cleaving precisely into Youpil¡¯s neck.


    "Zzzap!" Warm blood splashed all over Puap¡¯s face and head. He stood there dumbly, reaching out to touch. But his old friend slumped sideways, crashing into a vat of liquor. In an instant, the clear liquid turned red, and the aroma of the fruit wine grew even stronger.


    "Youpil..."


    Necali lowered the bronze axe in his right hand, red blood slowly dripping from the blade. He gave Puap a cold glance and continued to brandish his battle axe to pursue and kill.


    This was a one-sided slaughter. In less than a quarter hour, all patrol members were hacked to death without anyone sounding an alarm whistle. The old militiaman, with a few brothers, dragged the bodies outside the door into the house, piling them in a corner of the room. Then he approached the wine vat, about to drag Nepal¡¯s body out, when Puap pushed him away with a shove.


    "Hmm!?"


    Necali put down the blood-red cotton cloth and gripped the freshly polished bronze axe, his eyes filled with killing intent as he looked at Puap.


    "It¡¯s all right, it¡¯s all right... He was a fool, but he won¡¯t cause any trouble. "


    The old militiaman quickly waved his hand with a smile. Then, he moved closer to Puap and whispered in persuasion.


    "My lord, the man is already dead. This is the path he chose, and there¡¯s nothing to regret... We have our own path to follow... If you really feel bad, you can take good care of his family... The Mexica captain kills without batting an eye, after doing so much, please don¡¯t fall here... "


    Puap jerked his whole body and then managed a strained smile. He turned and leaned against the corner of the wall, bowing his head in silence. Necali loosened his right hand and continued patiently waiting.


    Time flowed like wine, staining the ground red and painting the aroma of wine in the heart. Two to three quarters of an hour quickly passed, and there were no further incidents. Dozens of Mexica samurai worked frantically, finally digging through the blocked South Gate. The heavy creaking echoed in the night sky, accompanied by the suppressed cheers from inside and outside the city. The South Gate of Qinchongcan City was finally opened at this moment!


    The city gate was wide open, without any defenses. At this moment, the sturdy Qinchongcan City was like a turtle¡¯s egg with its shell cracked open, revealing the delicious egg white, with no obstacles whatsoever! Hundreds of Mexica warriors gathered outside the city swarmed in at once. Dozens of Mexica scouts climbed up to the city gate, lighting bright torches, while waving signals toward the camp in the south.


    Outside the camp, Xiulote had been sitting cross-legged for a long time. Seeing the signal at the city gate, he finally stood up, excitedly waving his scepter.


    "With the capture of the South Gate, Qinchongcan has fallen! All commanders heed my command!"


    The young Marshal¡¯s chest swelled with fervor. He looked around at the waiting commanders, observing the silent samurai numbering in the thousands, and ordered loudly.


    "Black Wolf Torc!"


    "Present!"


    "Lead a thousand vanguards, strike directly at the Royal Palace, and seize the Tarasco chief! Do not give Qinchongcan City any chance to organize a defense!"


    "Understood! Watch the might of Torc!"


    Black Wolf excitedly slapped his chest. He ran at the forefront, the first to lead his troops away.


    "Olosh, teacher!"


    "Here, Your Highness."


    "You have five thousand warriors, attack the Tekos camp in the city at once! I give you the authority to decide on your own, kill or negotiate surrender, just do not let these barbarians create havoc in the city!"


    "I will follow Your command!"


    The ferocious Jaguar warrior bowed his head in respect. He lit five battalions of a thousand men each and disappeared into the night.


    "Marshal Iskali!"


    "Your Highness."


    "Please lead six thousand of the southern army to raid the militia quarters of the other three gates, completely sealing off the Capital City!"


    "Leave it to me, Your Highness!"


    Iskali nodded in acknowledgment. Six thousand warriors surged north, shielding and wielding clubs.


    "General Etalik! You have two thousand warriors, take control of the city¡¯s treasury!"


    "Monkey Kuluka! Five thousand militia, block the roads within the city, prevent the enemy from gathering, and take control of the city¡¯s order!"


    "General Natali! With two thousand warriors, eliminate the nobility within the city!"


    "The end of the Western Expedition, is at this very moment!"

 Chapter 472 - 234: The Crimson Road

    "Qinchongcan City... this great capital, stood unyielded for generations, but now..."


    Puap stood dumbly by the city gate, like a statue devoid of expression, his heart filled with confusion.


    He watched as massive ranks of Mexica samurai, in neat formations, streamed through the gaping city gate. The dark green figures layered upon one another, boiling with audacious killing intent, like an unstoppable deluge. In the deep darkness of the night, thousands of "deluges" held up glaring torches, as if to burn everything in sight to ashes!


    The bright light of the torches was striking, painting the southern sky red. The piercing sound of the bone whistle blew suddenly in the city, and nearby militia camps started to stir noisily. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Mexica samurai surged forward, quickly encountering spontaneous resistance from the militia. But under the swing of the war clubs, that resistance was so frail, soon overwhelmed by the merciless tide. Terrifying screams broke out continuously in the streets up front, accompanied by the clash of weapons, leaving a fresh crimson trace on the ground. At this moment, the majestic yet tranquil capital city, like a dying white deer, jolted awake, erupting with a final mournful cry!


    "It¡¯s all because of me..."


    A strange feeling arose in the heart of the Huitu samurai. Suddenly, he no longer felt like just a weed in the war, but rather so grand, so significant, able to decide everything, like the sacred cocoa...


    "Necali, who is the inside man!"


    A loud shout suddenly jolted Puap awake, also shattering his brief illusion, plunging him back into the dust of the era.


    The Huitu samurai looked up, only to see a young samurai with sharp brows and bright eyes, carrying a longbow and holding a war club, quickly rushing in from the city gate. Subsequently, the Mexica captain in front saluted respectfully and gestured in his own direction. The young warrior suddenly turned around, revealing a pair of eyes emitting a cold sharpness, walking over with a chilling authority. This face... it looked somewhat familiar.


    "You, quickly! Take us to the Palace of Wind!"


    Black Wolf Toltec, his eyes filled with murderous intent, disdainfully sized up Puap and abruptly grabbed his garment, shouting out loud.


    "Lead the way! I, Black Wolf Toltec, will achieve the greatest merit! Ha ha, the Marshal is mine, the King is mine, the chief of Tarasco is also mine!"


    Hearing this unforgettable voice, an old militiaman nearby lowered his head in fear, a nightmare from beyond the city flashing through his mind. This was the "Black Wolf Warrior" they had once battled against! Panic also surfaced in Puap¡¯s eyes. He quietly acknowledged and then silently led the way with his brothers. Black Wolf Toltec shouted loudly, and a thousand Mexica vanguard troops immediately followed with high-held torches.


    Qinchongcan City, historically rich and vast in area, was also clearly ordered and rigidly hierarchical, bearing the marks of a slave society. From the sturdy bluestone city walls to the very center¡¯s "House of Wind" Akatla, the capital was distinctly divided into four different class zones.


    The outermost layer, which occupied over sixty percent of the area, housed over fifty thousand villagers, townsmen, and slaves. This was the lower layer of the capital, also housing the main force of the conscripted militia and Tekos barbarians.


    The civilian district¡¯s roads were complicated, but Puap knew them well, navigating without any hesitation. He had lived in the capital for thirty years, spending most of his time in this area. The roads here were only wide enough for a few people to pass, flanked by low and densely packed thatched houses. All around, vast stretches of these houses were completely dark, void of any light, though occasionally the suppressed cries of children could be heard, followed by the fearful low curses of adults.


    Black Wolf Toltec, cautious, raised his shield and surveyed the surroundings. The marching torches continued unfaltering, pushing forward. As they proceeded deeper into the heart of the city, the roads grew broader. Among the large swaths of simple civilian communities, tall continuous stone buildings began to appear, with fires burning between them.


    Puap knew these were the dwellings of civilian samurai families and small merchants of the capital, now also housing scattered troops of barbarians and militia. As the conflict intensified, the Tekos people became increasingly defiant. In order to control the numerous tribal people, the chief both bestowed favors and enforced discipline, placating them gently, all the while deliberately scattering them by tribal units and arranging nearby stationed militia to maintain a precarious balance in the capital.


    "Ahead there are two stations... one with two hundred militia, one with five hundred barbarians,"


    warned the Huitu samurai cautiously. Black Wolf Toltec glanced at him, nodded casually, and continued on without stopping.


    Suddenly, hundreds of conscripted militiamen appeared on the street side. They, seeing the approaching massive Mexica legion, frantically raised their long spears, attempting to form a spear formation.


    Black Wolf Toltec roared like a tiger and led a few dozen trusted aides directly into their midst! He fiercely swung his war club, easily slaughtering the disorganized militia, occasionally letting out a horrific roar. Within mere moments, the militiamen were devastated by the fierce charges! They dropped their weapons and turned to flee, their cries of terror mingling as they jostled each other, only to be caught and cut down like straw by the ruthless samurai.


    Among the gradually fading screams, Chiwaco walked forward barefoot, his expression calm. Blood covered the narrow path, dampening his feet, which felt somewhat warm and somewhat slippery. Hence, he stopped, slowly looking down.

 Chapter 473 - 234 The Crimson Road_2

    Under the flickering firelight, the Capital City Militia lay dying everywhere, surrounded by the cold bodies of villagers, and the road beneath his feet had turned crimson. The old militiaman paused for a moment, tightened his grip on his long spear and continued forward.


    Not far from the militia¡¯s quarters was a wide courtyard, now in chaos, clearly disturbed by the fierce slaughter. Led by a Tekos tribe Chieftain, dozens of Tekos warriors, with a ferocious demeanor and disheveled hair, charged out of the yard to confront the oncoming Mexica legion head-on!


    Toltec roared again. Clutching his blood-dripping war club, he launched himself violently forward, smashing to death the nearest enemies.


    The tribe Chieftain¡¯s eyes bulged as he looked at the elite Samurai filling the street and their dark green Leather Armor, his mouth agape in horror. Then, seeing the unstoppable Black Wolf rapidly approaching, he shuddered violently, turned, and fled, shouting urgently.


    "Surrender! Surrender! The compliant citizens of the Volcano are willing to surrender to the powerful Eastern Chieftain!"


    "Black Wolf warrior, they wish to surrender!"


    Hearing the Tekos¡¯s cries, Puap quickly chased after Toltec, shouting the translation.


    Toltec stopped, frowning slightly. He looked toward the tribe Chieftain, who had already fled into the courtyard, surrounded by hundreds of tribal militiamen.


    "Take twenty men, guard the entrance, leave it to the reinforcements behind. The rest of the Samurai, move forward!"


    The Vanguard Army advanced once again, more Samurai walking abreast, the buildings on either side no longer dim. Occasionally, squares were interspersed among the buildings, with a fortress-like residence further away.


    Puap pursed his lips. This area was the district of high-ranking Samurai and Craftsmen, also where his family resided. The squares between the buildings were used for regular assemblies and community trade. The fortress-like residence was the official Craftsman center, where thousands of lifelong Craftsmen were tightly supervised. They obeyed the Royal Family¡¯s commands, produced a vast amount of weapons and equipment, and were a vital source of strength for the Defending Army!


    After several battles, the Samurai of the Capital City had suffered severe losses, one in ten remaining. Therefore, this area was the most empty, and the Vanguard Army passed through with little resistance. Toltec gave the massive Craftsman center a distant glance, smacked his lips regretfully, and continued moving forward to kill.


    Soon, the cobblestone main road appeared beneath everyone¡¯s feet, with many firelights twinkling not far away. A group of Tarasco Samurai rushed over hastily, unable to Formations, they were scattered by the fierce Black Wolf. Toltec launched a swift attack, hacking the leading Warrior Captain to death in a few strokes, unstoppable like a savage beast! Following that, the Vanguard Samurai surged forward, and after a series of screams, the main road turned red with blood.


    Chiwaco clasped his long spear tightly, keeping up with the footsteps of the Mexica Vanguard, stepping across the blood-soaked battlefield. Red footprints stretched forward, and the view on both sides suddenly expanded. The old militiaman, with concerns in his heart, carefully observed the unfamiliar sights along the way, clucking in amazement.


    "This, this is where Great Nobility lords live! ...Ah? All stone, can¡¯t even see a thatched roof..."


    This area was already the Great Nobility district at the center of the city, usually off-limits to commoners, including ordinary Samurai. Under the firelight, the old militiaman looked around, distant solid White Stone houses, beautiful water well gardens, and tall pines and cypress trees that dazzled and filled him with longing. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Nobility of the city had been alarmed by the turn of events. They quickly summoned their nearby private soldiers and Escorts, and soon figures moved about the gardens and houses, flashing with cold light. There were about a thousand private soldiers in this area, each controlled by several dozen Nobility of varying ranks. Under the pressure of the Chief Minister, the Nobility had no chance to assemble. Now faced with sudden calamity, they could only defend their family estates and fight nervously on their own.


    Toltec dodged an incoming Copper Spear with a hop, and then, with a swift sideways strike, he cut down the foremost attacking Tarasco Nobility. The blades of trusted aides clashed on either side, hacking and slashing, and a group of Nobility¡¯s private soldiers obstructing the way was annihilated. Black Wolf surveyed the surroundings, glanced at the Nobility¡¯s private soldiers holding defensive positions further away, swung his hand forward, and led the charge!


    No Guidance was needed now. Following the clear main road, the Vanguard Army ignored the scattered enemies nearby and quickly made their way to a palace thirty meters tall. Brilliant lights were lit all around the palace, bringing perpetual brightness, and exquisite verandas stood high in the sky, as if they were the abode of Divine Descendants on earth. This was the last palace and Temple area, the Palace of Wind of the Tarasco!


    Black Wolf looked up, his brow deeply furrowed. The brick and stone foundation ahead was several meters high, with grand steps rising in sequence to uphold a majestic and solid wood and stone palace. Above the palace, wooden pavilions were stacked while numerous sturdy stone towers surrounded it. Hundreds of Tarasco samurai were pouring out of the palace, many wearing Hummingbird leather armor. These loyal family warriors brandished shields and waved copper spears, forming formations on the advantageous high ground. Then, someone brought out a longbow!


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    A merciless hail of arrows shot forth, accompanied by the shrill sound of the wind, "thwack"ing into the leather armor. A chorus of screams suddenly erupted around Black Wolf, as more than a dozen Mexica samurai toppled over in an instant. Black Wolf¡¯s pupils dilated sharply, and with an agile roll to the side, he ducked behind the nearby houses. Leaning against the wall, he carefully observed and saw that a hundred elite archers were perched atop the stone towers, firing their arrows!


    "Damn it, how did the enemy gather so fast?...Front line, raise shields and charge; back line, scatter and shoot! Split two teams of samurai to encircle from both sides!"


    Toltec waved a small flag and shouted orders. Then, he took a longbow off his back, and with just a quick aim, he released an arrow swift as lightning!


    "Hit!"


    "Ah!" An archer let out a brief cry of pain before plummeting from the top of the stone tower, crashing to the ground with a "thud," and the sound was abruptly silenced.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" The Tarasco samurai in front of the palace also began to release their arrows in unison. Even more arrows came down from above at intersecting angles, striking down dozens in the frontline vanguard. Moments later, the warriors in the rear returned fire with a volley of arrows. More than a dozen figures suddenly fell from the high pavilions, bursting into eye-searing blooms of red.


    Soon, more than three hundred vanguard warriors, holding shields, stormed up the stone steps. They roared and swung their war clubs, clashing with the defending Tarasco spear formation, falling intermittently. At that moment, in front of the magnificent Palace of Wind, arrows crisscrossed fiercely, weapons clashed brutally, and the air was filled with the stench of death!


    Behind the Mexica samurai, Huitu Puap crouched down and carefully hid at the edge of a building. He looked at the fierce battle raging above and below the palace, his heart full of complex emotions.


    As a trusted aide highly regarded by the Chief Minister, he had been to the Palace of Wind many times and was thoroughly familiar with the situation. He certainly knew that the main force of loyal samurai were gathered here, ready to suppress the nobility in the city at any moment. He also knew that the stone towers on either side housed elite archers, and a secret passage lay behind the palace walls. He even knew that the Chief Minister of the Hummingbird was on the highest pavilion, with the Royal Family¡¯s heir by the Chief¡¯s side!


    All this critical intelligence, Puap kept buried in his heart. He had no intention of telling the courageous Black Wolf, nor had he told anyone else, except for...


    Amidst the whistling arrows, the aged militiaman Chiwaco cautiously raised his shield, following the shadows of the walls, tiptoeing over. Behind him, a dozen trusted militiamen, all clad in Hummingbird leather armor and wielding sharp copper spears.


    "Master, are you ready? The time we spoke of... has come..."


    "Hu..."


    Puap exhaled heavily, then took a deep breath of the sweet, pungent air. In that moment, his eyes flickered with an unusual glow, like a dog transforming into a wolf.


    "Let¡¯s go... May the Chief Divine protect us..."


    "Good. May the Chief Divine protect us."


    Chiwaco¡¯s aged face broke into a smile, his feet stained with bright red. His deep prayers scattered into the air, as dark as the night itself.

 Chapter 474 - 235: Revenge!

    Moon Star was hidden, and the dim sky lacked any light; a mournful night breeze carried screams of death. At the magnificent top level of the Palace of Wind, lonely wind chimes sounded their melancholic tunes. The curtains of the Three Gods fluttered in the wind, shielding the murals of the Divine Eagle and the Hummingbird, both being simultaneously concealed, turning into the dust of history. In the clear light of the candle, there stood a silently imposing figure in front of the window, speechless like a frozen painting. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Chief Minister of Tarasco, Jinjinni, alone, with hands behind his back, gazed at the battleground outside the palace.


    In just over half a year, his hair had turned entirely white, his face had deeply aged... only his eyes, still as profound as distant stars, heavy as massive mountains. He watched the widespread blaze across the Capital City as if watching the last fireworks; watching the fierce combat beneath the palace, he felt a serene finality in his heart.


    Shortly after, two guards, faces grim, came running. Not far behind them followed a dozen warriors of the House of Hummingbird, most somberly walking with bowed heads. From a distance, the guards called out loudly.


    "Chief, Warrior Captain Puap requests an audience! He says there¡¯s urgent intelligence to report!"


    Jinjinni turned around, his gaze calm as he looked inside the palace. In this grand Palace of Wind, not many guards remained on duty. Most warriors were engaged in a desperate battle at the front gate, a few guarded the rear exits. Only a handful were left by his side. Of course, even if a thousand more warriors were present, the outcome of this night had already been sealed.


    The dozen Hummingbird warriors soon entered the palace, everyone¡¯s armor stained with blood, expressions pale and heavy. Puap quietly surveyed, his gaze meeting that of the Chief. It was still as sharp as an eagle¡¯s, as if capable of piercing the heart. The Huitu warrior, feeling guilty, lowered his head, a trace of panic evident on his face.


    "Puap, what are you doing here?"


    The Chief¡¯s words were calm and profound.


    "I... I have urgent intelligence!"


    Somehow, faced with the Chief¡¯s calmness, fear surged again in the heart of the Huitu warrior, even though the other was unarmed.


    "...Speak."


    The deep voice hinted at age and exhaustion.


    "...Chief, I... I am sorry!..."


    Puap raised his head, looking at the aged Chief, at that tired face, and suddenly tears of genuine emotion flowed, his face full of remorse. This was the Family Head he had loyally served for over twenty years.


    "Chief... someone opened the secret door of South City, let the Mexica people into the city... I... I lost the gate of South City..."


    "Who?!"


    Finally, a deep anger arose in the Chief¡¯s words, like the roar of an aged beast.


    "I... I..."


    Faced with the interrogation of the Family Head, Puap¡¯s knees weakened, and he "thud" fell to the ground. He cried bitterly, explaining from the depth of his heart. Every word was true, every emotion genuine.


    "The defending army¡¯s morale is lost... There was no light at night... It was chaotic at that moment... Nepal... he... he died in battle right before my eyes... I am sorry for him! I am sorry, Chief!... Oh..."


    Low sobs sounded, Jinjinni did not speak. He watched Puap lying on the ground, crying, and after a long while, he let out a long sigh.


    "Little Nepal... Ah, little Huitu, get up! At this moment, punishing you has no meaning."


    Jinjinni sighed, uncharacteristically saying much. In that fragile moment, he seemed just like an ordinary old man.


    "Little Huitu, I have no one left to trust... Your arrival with these few men is timely, I¡¯ll give you one last task to carry out!"


    "Chief?..."


    Puap immediately stopped crying. He stood up, cautiously watching Jinjinni, still showing a trace of fear on his face.


    Outside the window, the noise of shouting and the whistling arrows nailing on the palace building, making a "thud thud" muffled sound, intensified. The Chief of the Hummingbirds nodded his head, raising his voice.


    "Guards! Bring Prince Shatini over, and also the prepared goods."


    Three more guards entered the palace from outside. One of them held the hand of a child about seven or eight years old, who was crying. The other guards carried several solid bamboo baskets.


    "Puap, I am giving you one final task. Take advantage of the chaos, and lead Prince Shatini out of the city!"


    Chief Jinjinni motioned, and Puap stepped forward. Then, the Chief passed the child¡¯s hand into the hands of the Huitu warrior.


    "Little Huitu, the other princes of the Predecessor Monarch, I have already arranged for warriors to escort them away. Shatini is the youngest, and his birth was most unusual. His mother is a Tekos, his maternal grandfather a Great Chief of the Colima Mountain Region. According to the law of the Kingdom, his right to succession originally was the least..."


    Having said this, Jinjinni sighed softly, his expression becoming resolute again.


    "Puap, I entrust Shatini to you. From now on, his life is your life! Remember, although he is not the eldest, he is the prince with the highest promise for restoring the kingdom! The Capital City is about to fall, without the army of the Capital City, it will be difficult for regional commanders to obey a young lord, and they might surrender to the Mexica people one by one...


    Take him to Colima! His blood carries the lineage of both the Royal Family of the Divine Eagle and the Noble Chiefs of the Tekos. The Great Chief of Colima is ambitious, always seeking an alliance through marriage with the Royal Family... He will see Shatini as the perfect heir, enabling the maximum inheritance of the kingdom¡¯s legacy after its fall! This is the last hope..."


    "I have suppressed the Tekos all my life, unwilling to let them peer into the kingdom, that is why I kept Shatini till the last... Your appearance, perhaps it¡¯s the will of the Three Gods... Take this Jade Talisman of the Chief Minister, leave through the north gate! Arranged boats are at the northern lake... Also, take these bamboo baskets, they contain gems, gold and silver, jade artifacts, feathers... and a wooden board of inheritance. Lastly..."

 Chapter 475 - 235: Revenge!_2

    The Chief Minister stepped forward a few steps, retrieved an emerald gemstone the size of a fist from a hidden compartment, and set it atop a basket of feathers. Under the bright candle light, the giant emerald gemstone was translucent and pure, refracting a soul-stirring radiance, like a splendid illusion.


    Puap¡¯s eyes instantly widened, his pupils filled with the sparkling gemstone. The eyes of the militia were also captivated by the immense gemstone. Such a sacred gemstone was certainly rare in the world, invaluable.


    "This is a gift for the Great Chief, from the distant southern Rainforest, a treasured heirloom of the Royal Family."


    The Chief¡¯s words were calm yet stern.


    "Remember! You may use the other valuables, but the gemstones and the Prince, you must hand them all to the Chief!"


    Puap bowed his head, not daring to look directly at the Chief¡¯s profound and weathered gaze, and responded softly.


    "Yes..."


    "Puap, time is of the essence, hurry and take the Prince away!"


    "Oh, Chief Minister, what about you..."


    "Go!"


    The Chief Minister waved his hand and turned around wearily. He gazed at the mural of the Divine Eagle and the Hummingbird, watching the Divine Eagle soar then fall, the Hummingbird circle then cry mournfully, his eyes already showing resignation to death. Beneath the mural lay an unlit torch and a row of legacy wooden planks.


    Chiwaco glanced at the emotionally shaken Puap, shook his head slightly. He and his brothers exchanged looks, then slowly dispersed, approaching the sobbing guards, and then suddenly thrust their copper spears!


    "Ugh! Ah! Ah!..."


    The cries of death echoed in the grand hall, piercing into everyone¡¯s hearts in an instant. The sharp copper spears swung mercilessly, aiming for vital points. In just a few breaths, five guards lay dead or dying. Blood, for the first time, flowed in the Royal Family¡¯s grand hall!


    Jinjinni spun around, his eyes wide with shock. He incredulously watched the traditionally loyal Huitu samurai.


    "Puap! What are you doing?!"


    "Ah... Chief Minister... I..."


    Puap stuttered, his face flushed with shame, unsure of what to say. Even though he had been prepared, at this moment, his mind was still out of control.


    "I... as a Mexica..."


    "Pu... ap... Pu!"


    Jinjinni¡¯s voice was as cold as ice at the bottom of a lake. He let out a bitter laugh, his eyes seeming to burn with the darkest flames.


    "Ha! I actually misjudged you?! The loyalty and honor of generations of the Huitu Clan, today are to be destroyed by your hands!"


    "Chief Minister... I am sorry... just surrender!... I promise, the Mexica will embrace you and preserve your clan!"


    Puap, ashamed, bowed his head and no longer dared to look at the Chief Minister.


    Jinjinni coldly watched the samurai in front of him, like an eagle eying a turkey. Then, he looked toward Prince Shatini not far away, the young Prince, although full of fear, had stopped crying and clutched the dagger at his waist.


    A trace of reassurance and expectation flickered in the Chief Minister¡¯s eyes, which then turned into sorrow and despair. Suddenly, a severe pain shot through his waist, instantly draining all his strength!


    "Ah!..."


    The elderly Chief Minister bit his lip, emitting a suppressed cry of pain, his forehead instantly covered in sweat.


    "Old man Chi... what... what are you doing?!"


    "What am I doing?"


    Chiwaco coldly smiled, then stirred his long spear again. Jinjinni could no longer stand firmly and collapsed sideways. Bright red fluid flowed swiftly from the wound in his waist, further staining his white hair.


    "What am I doing?! Great Master, at this time, how could you be soft-hearted? How could the Great Chief surrender? If the Mexica accepted the Great Master and let him continue his reign, what place would there be for us? Great Master, you really are like a foolish squirrel, dropping the corn in your hands at the sight of an acorn; paralyzed with fear when confronting a cat... How could your brothers trust their lives to you like this?"


    Hearing the old militia¡¯s words and sensing the veiled threat within them, Puap turned his back, finally whispering low.


    "Make it quick, let there be no pain!"


    Jinjinni lay on the ground, powerlessly gazing ahead. The legacy wood planks were stained red with people¡¯s blood. The divine curtain no longer fluttered. Looking up from the ground, the ancient murals of the flying Divine Eagle and Hummingbird were both plummeting.


    "Haha, Chief Minister, the great Chief Minister! Destroying our village, destroying my home, you old white-headed bird, finally captured in my hands!"


    The old militia pulled out the long spear, then thrust it again into Jinjinni¡¯s aging chest and abdomen. Listening to the Chief Minister¡¯s painful moans, Chiwaco laughed loudly, his laughter filled with the joy of revenge!


    "Haha, this spear thrust, is for my wife! She was with me for decades, and in the end, not even a corpse was left! Come, this one is for my son. He left his parents, suffered untold hardships, and I could only pretend he was dead! Haha, Chief Minister, does your heart ache now?!"


    Chiwaco laughed maniacally, his laughter echoing through the palace, even causing tears to flow. He let go of the spear stuck in the ribs, bent down in front of the Chief Minister, and then pulled out the short dagger from his waist. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Haha, this dagger, is for my daughter! She was just so small when drafted into the logistics camp!... Draft after draft, the Mexica never conscripted one of our own!... Great Master, with a wave of your hand, we were sent thousands of miles away to die like weeds!... you wave again, and our village is gone, all that¡¯s left when we return is a cursed old man...

 Chapter 476 - 235: Revenge!_3

    "Chief Minister, you sit in a palace like it¡¯s the Divine Kingdom, your eyes looking up at the high heavens. Can you see us below you? Ha ha, I don¡¯t believe in the three gods, they are all dead! I only believe in my brothers¡¯ weapons! Ha ha, now, your neck, do you feel our coldness?"


    The old Militia seemed crazed. He laughed with tears streaming down his face. He pulled out the bloodstained Dagger and held it across Jinjinni¡¯s throat. The sharp Obsidian Short Dagger pierced the skin, and the Chief Minister closed his eyes, forever dimming his profound gaze.


    "Ah, ha ha!"


    Chiwaco, using all his strength, pressed down the Dagger. Then, standing up amidst the shocked stares of the Militia, he laughed wildly as he fumbled in his chest, eventually shaking out a bean and forcefully throwing it onto the Chief¡¯s corpse.


    "Ha ha, ha ha! This biggest bean... is your debt... and now you¡¯ve repaid your debt!"


    "Old Chi...you...you...have you gone mad?!...How could you sever the Chief Minister¡¯s head!..."


    Puap¡¯s eyes widened, staring at this comrade so familiar yet so transformed, a vague fear arising in his heart. This Chiwaco of the night was a darkness and crimson he had never seen before.


    "Ha ha, old Pu, how could I miss such a grand deed? We can¡¯t carry the body... Let¡¯s wrap the head, it¡¯s easier to carry." S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Their eyes met, but the old Militia¡¯s were clear, and within that clarity was an unprecedented joyous sneer. He grabbed a piece of sacred fabric, quickly wrapped Jinjinni¡¯s head, then picked up the huge Emerald Gemstone with praise.


    "Tsk, tsk, so round, so bright! Just like the roundest moon... I, old Chi, have never seen something this beautiful in my life!..."


    Weizti shuddered as he watched his uncle, who while speaking of beauty, kept his eyes fixed continually on the head. The uncle smiled as he buried the blood-dripping package and the beautiful gemstone together in the Feathers, then shouldered the lightweight bamboo basket of Feathers.


    "You dumb logs, what are you staring at?! Hurry and carry these baskets of treasures on your backs. Master, quickly knock out the Prince beside you. We need to go now, the Black Wolf warriors of Mexica are coming up!"


    The skirmish outside the window gradually quietened, but the killing shouts below the towers were becoming more imminent. Urged by time, the Militia obeyed and shouldered their bamboo baskets, the heavy gemstones and Gold and Silver bringing a delighted burden.


    Puap turned his head and saw Prince Shatini raising a Dagger. Huitu Samurai quickly stepped forward, seized the Prince¡¯s weapon, and struck him twice on the jaw, knocking the Prince unconscious. Then, he himself carried the Prince as if he was the greatest treasure.


    "Tell me, where is the Chief Minister of Tarasco?! Where are the Princes of the Royal Family?!"


    In the corridor below, Toltec¡¯s roar was now distinctly audible. He seized a guard and bellowed, but the man kept his lips tightly sealed.


    Hearing the familiar battle cries, old Militia Chiwaco waved his hand, and the group obediently ran towards the back of the palace. There was an emergency passage there, the same route they had taken when they were allowed entry.


    As the night deepened and the palace elongated, the shouts and roars gradually faded. The old Militia strode ahead quickly toward the palace exit, Puap closely followed, with the other Militia trailing behind. The Huitu Samurai wore a complex expression, dazed all the way to the palace gate, before he quietly asked.


    "Old Chi, where do we head now? To the lake by the north gate? Or south gate to find the Mexica commander?"


    "Neither, we go to the east gate."

 Chapter 477 - 236: Stealing Credit

    The firelight gradually kindled in the majestic capital city, and the night breeze carried sounds from afar. Everywhere were various boiling shouts, along with hoarse howling, as if the end of days had descended.


    "Look to the south!"


    Chiwaco stopped in his tracks. He stood on the high stone stairs outside the palace, gazing at South City, which was bathed in the red glow of torches. A surge of dark green flooded in, seemingly endless and unstoppable, threatening to engulf everything in its path.


    Puap turned at the sound and saw the tide branching out, advancing to the front of the palace and the temple district, revealing the Mexica Samurai clad in leather armor, fierce and grim. He exclaimed in surprise.


    "Gods! So many! All samurai!"


    Chiwaco nodded gravely.


    "There are too many samurai in the south! The army has entered the city; they are like a pack of hungry wolves with red eyes, always ready to hunt. If a few of us go south, clad in the Kingdom¡¯s leather armor, and run headfirst into samurai from who knows where... we might be torn to pieces by the wolf pack before we can pull out the jade talisman to explain... Head east! We must leave the city quickly to meet with the Mexica Prince!"


    Hearing this, Puap looked down at his leather armor. In this moment, the Hummingbird¡¯s family emblem was glaringly conspicuous. He gritted his teeth, shook his head, and asked in a deep voice.


    "Throw away this leather armor?"


    "No, tonight, an extra layer of leather armor means an extra chance at life... Foolish wood, bring the clothes I prepared, let everyone put on a robe over it."


    Hearing his uncle¡¯s command, Weizti took out a cloth bundle and opened it, revealing a dozen or so black robes of civilian style. Puap widened his eyes in surprise, looked at the well-prepared Chiwaco whose face was always smiling. Soon, everyone put on the black robes, blending into the shadows of the night, becoming even less conspicuous.


    "Go!"


    About ten people carrying bamboo baskets and war trophies hurriedly left. The splendid Palace of Wind was still lit up, but the fierce sounds of fighting gradually extinguished in the wind. Then, a furious shout suddenly exploded, echoing around the palace like the roar of a heroic spirit!


    "Ah! Who stole my Black Wolf¡¯s glory in battle!"


    Chiwaco smiled, looking back. Hundreds of steps away in front of the palace, soaked in blood. Hundreds of samurai lay scattered, fallen on the cold stone steps, becoming just as cold corpses. The bright Hummingbird fell on the damaged leather armor, reflecting the all-night lights of the high buildings, like a stunning painting. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The old militiaman¡¯s eyes gleamed, pausing for a moment. He turned his head, gave Puap a faint glance, then silently pulled out a pea and stealthily scattered it into the wind.


    "The leading family¡¯s samurai... they¡¯re all here now... "


    "Old Qi, what are you saying?"


    "I¡¯m saying, let¡¯s hurry. The Mexica Samurai have gone to the Temple!"


    Puap looked up to see the towering "House of Wind," Akatla, standing at the very center of the Capital City, with the blazing Sacred Fire lit at its grand summit! Priests of the three gods inhaled divine smoke, circling the perpetual Sacred Fire, dancing frantically and possessed, occasionally scattering yellow powder. The priests¡¯ singing carried far, as mournful as a dying night owl. Before long, a desolate howling drifted into the wind, laced with the desperate, final prayers. And among those prayers was the Mexica people¡¯s frenzied shouting!


    "Kill the three gods! The Chief Divine is most high and mighty! Glory to the warriors of the divine battle!"


    The pyramid¡¯s shadow was vast and overwhelming. In its cast darkness, thousands of Mexica legion surrounded the "House of Wind." Shining war clubs were waved in combat, each layer surging towards the summit; whooshing arrows "whizzed" skyward, pinning the temple¡¯s defenders to the ground.


    The temple¡¯s samurai, numbered only in the hundreds, had no powerful longbows. They futilely threw their javelins and stones, their numbers quickly dwindling in the fight. Soon, the Mexica legion had reached the summit!


    "The three gods are calling us! The Stone of the Dead opens the gate of the Moon God! The blue fire is the path to the Divine Kingdom!"


    The lead priest shouted out for the last time! Then, he violently threw the torch in his hand onto the temple¡¯s ground. The dim blue flames instantly surged like a tide, toxic smoke spreading in all directions, engulfing the priests in an instant, also claiming the nearest Mexica Samurai. Thousands of pounds of the Stone of the Dead burst into flames at this moment, carrying everything in the temple into a world of ashes!


    "Ah, this! The three gods¡­ dead?... Chief Divine¡­ most high..."


    Seeing this, Puap shuddered deeply and hastened to turn and flee with Chiwaco. Faith and loyalty had completely crumbled that night, and his spirit had already collapsed into nothingness. The Huitu samurai half-closed his eyes, wandering in a daze for who knows how long, when the sounds of battle once again erupted by his side. He opened his eyes once more to find they had reached the nobility district.


    Chiwaco led his brothers hiding in a garden, carefully observing the movements ahead. A large contingent of the Mexica legion, brandishing weapons, had firmly surrounded a magnificent estate. These devout samurai shouted slogans of the gods, their necks adorned with Hummingbird Sun amulets. They mercilessly swung their weapons, killing the resisting escorts, then chopped down the nobles in front of them. Many of these samurai were even dressed in Otomi attire!


    The nobility initially resisted valiantly, cursing loudly, then laid down their weapons, kneeling to beg for mercy. The Otomi Warriors remained expressionless, mercilessly executing the commands of the Commander-in-Chief. Soon, the lavish estate was filled with the bodies of the nobility,

 Chapter 478 - 236: Stealing Credit_2

    Chests of gold and silver fabrics were plundered and taken away, followed by large groups of young womenfolk, who were bound into a line by the samurai with ropes. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In this era inherently defined by rank, wealth was wholly concentrated in the hands of the hereditary nobility. The great nobility lived unimaginably extravagant lives, while the samurai were greatly consuming, and the commoners were destitute, with virtually no savings.


    After the battle, a large troop of Mexica samurai, shouting the names of the gods, advanced to the next mansion. Chiwaco also continued cautiously forward with his brethren and soon arrived at the Craftsman District.


    There weren¡¯t many Mexica samurai here, nor were there troops sent to plunder. The large contingent of samurai gathered at the massive craftsman center, taking the craftsmen into custody and providing protection en masse, numbering over a thousand. Occasionally, small squads of samurai, bloodthirsty with rage, would blindly charge here, only to be ordered back to the Nobility District by their commanders.


    Puap looked towards the location of his family estate and then silently stepped forward. He patted the shoulder of the old militiaman and indicated for him to lead the way. They followed a narrow path, circled around the craftsman center, and returned to the expansive Civilian District.


    The Civilian District of South City had gradually become calm, but this part of the East City was still embroiled in fighting. Throngs of Tarasco militiamen scattered across the streets, with Mexica samurai chasing and slashing behind them; occasionally, some would drop their weapons and surrender. Swarms of Tekos brutes charged out of the enclosures they had been trapped in, like uncaged hyenas, looting the nearest houses with roars. They grabbed anything from cakes, jerky, fabrics, cocoa, to exquisite pottery, and then set them ablaze. Flames raged, smoke billowed, and terrified Tarasco civilians fled from their houses. They were like wild rabbits dashing in all directions, filled with panic as if their burrows were collapsing, avoiding all armed predators.


    The blazing fire soon caught the attention of the Mexica legion. A large number of samurai stormed in, easily striking down the tribesmen with their bulky and small bags. Then, shouting, they followed the orders of the Prince, putting in effort to extinguish the flames or isolate the fire scene.


    Chiwaco, with a ferocious expression, thrust his spear and impaled two Tekos brutes who were running towards them. Then, he worriedly looked back at South City, unable to discern the exact location of the fire. Puap, carrying the Prince, urged softly,


    "Old Chi, this way. The East City gate is near! Hopefully, there¡¯s still a Defending Army holding out that can get us down the city walls!"


    As he spoke, he touched the two differently shaped Jade Talismans in his chest, preparing for all eventualities.


    The old militiaman, with lips pursed, silently led his brethren forward. Just as the group had turned a street corner and seen the dense lanterns at the East City gate, they collided head-on with a large squadron of Mexica samurai marching quickly.


    Coyote Family Head Coyote was taken aback and stopped in his tracks. He drew the weapon at his waist and scrutinized the group that had suddenly appeared. His gaze lingered on the more than a dozen long spears, then swept over the black robes of civilian style.


    "Eh, a dozen scattered militia? Come, kill them all!"


    Coyote indifferently raised his hand, and dozens of samurai drew their weapons, spreading out to encircle them.


    Puap had just taken out the Prince¡¯s Jade Talisman and was about to speak when the old militiaman quietly waved his hand. Taking a step forward, he brought out a connecting token, bowed, and said with a grin,


    "Master, we, the Alliance¡¯s inside operatives! Obedient, good people!"


    Hearing the Mexica language that was not entirely fluent, Coyote tilted his head warily, and a trusted aide stepped forward to take the wood token. After examining it for a moment and seeing the Hunter symbol on it, the aide respectfully turned and reported back.


    "Family Head, it¡¯s indeed a token from the Northern Legion, belonging to the Scout Vanguard. They must be the inside operatives in the city."


    At this news, Coyote¡¯s expression slightly relaxed. He observed the attire of this group of inside operatives, his brow furrowing with curiosity as he asked,


    "The army has already entered the city; since you are inside operatives, what are you doing here?"


    "We need to leave the city, to report the latest intelligence,"


    Puap answered cautiously.


    Coyote¡¯s eyes flickered, his gaze slowly scanning the group¡¯s bamboo baskets, noting the vaguely exposed Wealth. Then his gaze settled sharply on the child Puap was carrying on his shoulders. The Coyote Family Head sniffed lightly, then advanced with a dozen trusted aides,


    "You, don¡¯t move! Who is he?"


    Coyote narrowed his eyes and raised the torch in his left hand. He looked at the child¡¯s arm and neck, noting the pale complexion and delicate skin, which stood out starkly against the samurai¡¯s rugged appearance. A cold smile spread across Coyote¡¯s face as he tightened his grip on his War Club in his right hand.


    Sensing the sharp murderous intent, Puap¡¯s pupils suddenly constricted, and he too reached for his own weapon.


    "Ah, Master, this is the Prince! Captured, to be presented to the great Alliance. To you, the noble Commander-in-Chief, for you... We, only want, the plundered Wealth."


    Seeing this, the old militiaman hurriedly bowed, a smile plastered across his face as he stepped forward. He tugged at Puap¡¯s arm and carefully lowered the silent Prince Shatini to the ground. Then, waving his hands, the old militiaman pulled the furious Puap away, cautiously leading the militiamen back.


    "Oh? The Prince? The Tarasco Prince!"


    At this, Coyote¡¯s eyes lit up. He bent down to inspect, checking the Prince¡¯s pearly teeth, examining the uncalloused small hands, and finally noticing the Divine Eagle tattoo on the neck, erupting with elation.


    "Ah, truly the Prince of Tarasco?! A noble, sacred Sacrifice! The Alliance¡¯s superior battle merit!"

 Chapter 479 - 236: Stealing Credit_3

    Hearing this, the confidants all revealed expressions of joy and visibly relaxed. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hmm¡­ Prince¡­ military exploits¡­ hey!"


    The eyes of the weasel became even greedier, his greed tinged with a hidden murderous intent. He lifted his head, and seeing the insiders stealthily retreating, he shouted loudly.


    "Stop! Put down the treasures in the bamboo basket! Otherwise, I will catch you all and kill every one of you! ..."


    "Damn it! This is what I got at the risk of my life, after so much scheming and killing...,"


    Puap could no longer hold back and burst into an angry roar.


    "Put it down, put it all down! Master, please put it down!"


    The old militiaman shouted urgently. He raised his hand, personally helped Puap to unload the bamboo basket, and then signaled the surrounding militia with his eyes.


    "Throw it out! Throw!"


    Seeing the joy on the face of the opposing commander, Chiwaco abruptly shouted and smashed the bamboo basket toward Coyote. The weasel family head was quick to dodge with a swift sidestep. Even though the other old brothers were reluctant, they did not hesitate to throw the bamboo baskets out.


    "Clang! Dang!" The bamboo baskets hit the ground, making a crisp crashing sound. A large amount of gold, silver, and jewels scattered across the floor, glimmering brilliantly and tinkling like enticing spring water.


    "Flee!"


    Chiwaco shouted loudly and turned to run. Puap reluctantly glanced back but still led the militiamen to escape together. In just a brief moment, the crowd that was full of spoils was left with nothing but the feather-filled bamboo basket on the old militiaman¡¯s back.


    "Family Head, should we go after them?"


    The weasel¡¯s eyes flickered. He watched over ten militiamen run away quickly, then looked at the scattered wealth¡­ After hesitating for a few moments, he shook his head.


    "Heh! They¡¯re smart, I¡¯ll spare their lives today!"


    Afterward, Coyote no longer hid the greed in his eyes. He waved his hand broadly and shouted.


    "Hurry! Collect all the wealth on the ground, no hiding any! I am not a stingy man! Divide it into ten parts, two for Her Majesty, one for the captain, one for His Highness, and one to be rewarded to you all!"


    The confidants let out a low cheer. This distribution ratio was the old rule of the nobility¡¯s private army. Weasel felt no guilt, pleased with his own generosity. What, you ask about the remaining five portions? Naturally, they all belong to the master!


    "I never thought guarding the gate would yield such a harvest, truly the Chief Divine is generous! Ha ha!"


    Coyote revealed a satisfied smile and walked toward the Prince, who had now woken up. His eyes shone as if he had seen a rare treasure.


    "Boy, don¡¯t pretend to be asleep, who do you think you can fool? Come on, tell us your family name! ..."


    The night breeze swept through, and young Shatini opened his eyes. He stared defiantly with a trembling body at the swelling crowd of Mexica samurai approaching him...


    "Old Chi, we¡¯ve run so far in one go!... Where are you heading? Are we not leaving the city anymore?"


    "Master, the east gate is blocked, and the west gate is definitely the same. These Mexica seem to be not with the Mexica captain¡­ it was really dangerous just now! We¡¯ll detour to the southern civilian district to hide for a while, then meet up with my daughter and the families of our brothers!"


    Chiwaco glanced at the continually loyal dozen brothers, slowed down, and whispered to the crowd. Then, he patted the feather bamboo basket on his back and encouraged with a smile.


    "The most important things are here! As soon as we see the Mexica Highness, everyone will have a share of the merits!"


    The group awkwardly gathered again and trudged forward. As they moved, the situation in South City gradually stabilized, occasionally encountering Long Spear troops blocking the streets.


    Chiwaco patiently observed for a long time but could not distinguish whether they were samurai or militia. These vine-hat wearing spear soldiers focused on cooperation, their actions stiff, but their discipline quite strict. Operating in squads of hundreds, they controlled key intersections, extinguished sources of fire, and jabbed to death those who created chaos. In densely packed places, some spear soldiers stepped out of the ranks, soothing the panicked civilians of the capital city with unusually skilled Prepetcha language.


    Chiwaco lurked in a dark place, watching these soldiers¡¯ silent, simple faces and familiar wooden expressions. He did not see the characteristic aggressiveness and bloodlust of the elite Mexica samurai; instead, he felt a kind of kinship and homespun atmosphere.


    "Eh, is this a southern accent of the capital city? Does the Alliance have other insiders?"


    Puap listened intently and then looked puzzled.


    "Old Chi, the road ahead is blocked, what do we do?"


    "Let¡¯s gamble on it! These people seem reliable!"


    Chiwaco bit his teeth hard. He dropped the spear he never parted with and raised the wooden plank in his hand, pulling Puap forward.


    "Chief Divine bless, friendlies!"


    The shout spread far, and hundreds of Long Spears militia turned to look. A young captain blew a whistle, and the militiamen silently lifted their copper spears, closing in from all sides!

 Chapter 480 - 237: Meeting and Presenting Gifts

    "Eh? The Alliance¡¯s Scout wooden plaque? It¡¯s of a higher rank than mine."


    The Spear Militia were meticulous, forming a tight formation surrounding the two men with their sharp Copper Spears. The young commander, Guzman, looked perplexed. The two figures in front of him were dressed in Black Robes, bloodstained, and carrying a bamboo basket on their back. He examined the wooden plaque handed to him, scrutinizing it for a while before asking again in Mexica.


    "Are you the Kingdom¡¯s insiders?"


    "We, Alliance¡¯s, people!"


    Chiwaco blinked his old eyes, repeating in simple Mexica language. Guzman scratched his head, unable to fully understand the other¡¯s accent, then turned to his trusted Militia.


    "Please call General Ezpan over; there might be urgent intelligence."


    One of the Militia promptly stepped out of the formation and headed north. The rest stood firm with their Spears aimed at the two within the encirclement, the spear points pressuring their vitals. Chiwaco and Puap repeated themselves several times, but the captain across from them remained silent, his expression stern. Soon, large beads of sweat seeped from their foreheads.


    Not far to the north, Ezpan stood at the end of the street, his armor stained with blood. He clutched the cold Spear in his hand, gazing at everything before him.


    The majestic Capital City was collapsing under the night sky, its flames and cries of slaughter scattering with the wind; the flag atop the Palace of Wind silently fell, crashing in front of the blood-stained palace; the top of the House of Wind burst into blue flames, the centuries-old Temple destroyed amid thick smoke; generations of the Great Nobility also fell with wails, becoming cold adornments amidst the opulent Manor...


    These images were imprinted in the eyes of the Surrendered General Ezpan, also translating into the tumultuous emotions welling up in his chest. Once invincible Nobility and high Priests now lay as low as dust, crawling at his feet, their lives or deaths at his mere word!


    Ezpan¡¯s expression shifted. He caressed his severed finger, his heart filled with a mix of exhilaration and disorientation. After a while, he turned around, looking towards the Prince¡¯s position, bowing deeply with a long sigh.


    "Such is the choice of life!... The God of Destiny is unfathomable, only the avatars of the divines endure in this world!... If not for His Highness, what end would I have met?..." S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As Ezpan was reflecting, the reporting Militia came quickly. After a brief exchange of words, the two headed south together. Soon, Ezpan saw the surrounded insiders. He glanced over their tattered Black Robes, noting the faint pattern of the Hummingbird, and his gaze sharpened.


    "You are insiders? Samurai of the Hummingbird Family?"


    Hearing the familiar accent of the Capital City, Puap¡¯s expression finally relaxed. He nodded and cautiously replied.


    "We are the insiders who opened South City. There is urgent military intelligence we wish to report to His Highness."


    "Meet His Highness? Military intelligence? What intelligence?"


    "..." Puap was momentarily at a loss for words. He looked towards the old Militia.


    "Chief Divine bless! May I ask who you are?"


    The old Militia asked with a respectful smile.


    Ezpan first looked at the Scout wooden plaque, then examined Chiwaco¡¯s smiling face, and finally glanced at the bamboo basket before he finally spoke.


    "I am Ezpan, born in the southern region of Qinchongcan, worked many years as a miner. Now, I am the new Legion Commander of the Tarasco Militia of the Alliance, as well as the interim Adjutant of the Spear Legion!"


    "Ah! Legion Commander!"


    The old Militia looked bewildered, while Puap exclaimed in surprise.


    "In the Mexica Alliance, we, the people of Prepetcha, could actually achieve such a position! To command a legion all by ourselves!"


    "Yes. I have followed His Highness for two years, one of the earliest partisans of His Highness!"


    Ezpan lifted his head, answering proudly, his heart warming slightly.


    After a moment of contemplation, Chiwaco tugged at Puap forcefully, then pointed at his chest.


    "Old Pu, take it out! We can trust him!"


    The Huitu Samurai hesitated for a moment before pulling out the Jade Talisman from His Highness. Ezpan¡¯s pupils instantly contracted. He examined it carefully, his expression turning solemn.


    "His Highness¡¯s Jade Talisman?!"


    Chiwaco nodded, earnestly saying.


    "Great Master, we know where the Royal Family¡¯s Prince is and would like to report back to His Highness!"


    "What? The Prince! Where?!"


    A smile squeezed onto Chiwaco¡¯s face.


    "Great Master, this... we are all people of Prepetcha, bound to serve His Highness in the future. We should look out for each other... Perhaps, you could join us to report to His Highness?"


    "Indeed, His Highness personally promised me a Noble title and granted the Jade Talisman as a token... We are all loyal Prepetcha to His Highness..."


    "Hm?... People of Prepetcha... His Highness¡¯s promise... Looking out for each other..."


    The fiery glow illuminated the three faces looking at each other. Miner, farmer, Samurai, three different identities of Tarascans meeting here for the first time. In this era of change and uncertainty, the once ordinary fates of these men were altered by the war of the Mexica Alliance. They had attached themselves to His Highness, embarking on paths they never imagined. Ahead lay bright prospects and unforeseeable futures!


    After a while, Ezpan touched his severed finger again. He finally smiled, nodding solemnly.


    "Chief Divine bless, it should be so!"


    "Chief Divine bless!"


    The three prayed with smiles. Chiwaco breathed a sigh of relief, his back drenched with sweat. He earnestly entreated Ezpan.


    "Great Master, let¡¯s set out now! The city is in chaos and carnage, could you dispatch two squads of Militia to look after our families?"


    "Done! Where do you live?"

 Chapter 481 - 237: Meeting and Presenting Gifts_2

    ```


    "Great Master, wait for me." sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The old militiaman turned and ran halfway down the street, calling out his hidden brothers. He clapped Weizti on the shoulder forcefully and instructed carefully.


    "Wood, you stay here and go find Luwei. She¡¯s in the dugout at home! Be careful!"


    Puap also left a trusted aide. Ezpan sent Guzman to lead the team to protect them. Then, he hurried to the south of the city with a group of people. His Highness has entered the city and is now personally presiding over the South City gate!


    The long breeze swept over the torch-filled South Gate. Xiulote stood atop the eight-meter-high city tower, gazing at the city¡¯s endless lights of the sleepless night, his heart brimming with conquering passion and excitement! He watched as the dark green torrents swept forward relentlessly, occupying various parts of the city, demolishing all resistance, then planting the Alliance¡¯s flags!


    The distant sounds of battle cries and the gradually rising cheers. In the eyes of the young king, tonight¡¯s picture was so beautiful, as if he had painted the masterpiece himself. A refreshing night breeze blew by, so pleasant, prompting thoughts of distant lands.


    "The wind in May is so warm! After capturing the Capital City, the samurai should take a break. We must fully protect and provide relief to the people of the Capital City, maximally preserving our manpower! Next, spring farming is the first priority!"


    "Your Highness is merciful!"


    Bertade praised sincerely.


    Xiulote smiled. He looked around, with hundreds of trusted aides gripping bows and sticks, firmly guarding the South Gate. Messengers were running back and forth, reporting the latest battle situations.


    "Your Highness, General Olosh has sent word: most of the Tekos camps have been broken through, the surrendering enemies are like turkeys all over the hills, and captives number in the thousands!"


    "Your Highness, Marshal Iskali has sent word: all four gates are now completely sealed, and not a single Divine Descendant of Tarasco shall escape! General Coyote at the East Gate is valiant and keen-eyed, having captured a prince! Truly the Chief Divine¡¯s blessing!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote was stunned for a moment, the visage of the Coyote Family Head appearing before his eyes. He nodded with a smile.


    "Send him to the main camp for identity verification. If confirmed, record a major merit."


    "Your Highness, General Etalik reports: the craftsman¡¯s camp has been taken, with the capture of over a thousand senior craftsmen, including more than a dozen master coppersmiths! The recently occupied logistics camp has revealed large amounts of food, military supplies, and women!"


    "Your Highness, General Kuluka reports: South City is under control, and the fire has been contained. The Spear Legion is heading toward the eastern and western parts of the city!"


    "Your Highness, General Natali reports: the temple priests have ignited the flames, and the Temple at the top of the pyramid is burning. It is unlikely any priests have survived. Troops are currently plundering the Great Nobility in the city center, seizing many treasures, please send reinforcements!"


    "Order Olosh¡¯s troops to enter the Nobility district as soon as possible, and ensure the plunder is recorded clearly!"


    Then, Xiulote frowned and demanded.


    "The House of Wind, a temple with a history of hundreds of years, humble yet magnificent, famous throughout the world... why not extinguish the fire quickly?!"


    "This... Your Highness, the temple priests have ignited tens of thousands of jin of Stone of the Dead... the thick toxic smoke has spread, enveloping the entire pyramid... the samurai had to retreat!"


    "Igniting tens of thousands of jin of sulfur!"


    Xiulote was shocked, looking into the distance. Under the dark sky, thick black smoke could be faintly seen rising from the center of the city. The smoke spread across the sky, obscuring the light of stars and moon, making the sky even darker. The flames at the top of the temple were hidden in the black haze, occasionally revealing a few piercing blue glows, like the arrival of the world of the dead.


    "The priesthood tradition of Tarasco will end here... Well, let the Chief Divine reshape the faith!"


    Xiulote shook his head. Then, something occurred to him, and he asked with a puzzled look.


    "Where is the messenger from Toltec? Has the Chief Minister of the Palace of Wind been captured? What about the other members of the Tarasco Royal Family?"


    "This... General Toltec has already taken the Royal Palace. He has sent out trusted aides, reporting that the Chief Minister might possibly be dead? The Royal Family members are still being hunted..."


    "Might possibly? Being hunted?"


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze hardened, and the pressure of a mountain became apparent. The messenger "thud" knelt down, answering fearfully.


    "General Black Wolf says he will personally ask for Your Highness¡¯s forgiveness!"


    The young king¡¯s face remained calm as he nodded slowly. He looked towards the city, where a squad of spear militiamen bearing torches were approaching from the end of the street, quickly arriving before his eyes.


    "General Ezpan requests an audience, with important intelligence to report!"


    "Let him come up."


    The group swiftly ascended the city tower. Ezpan, accompanied only by Chiwaco and Puap, came to ten paces before His Highness and knelt down respectfully to salute.


    "Your Highness, a brand-new sun shines in the sky, soaring above the majestic Capital City. The Capital City of Tarasco has fallen, and you are the one true King in the hearts of all the people of Prepetcha in this vast lake region!"


    At these words, Xiulote laughed heartily. He looked at Ezpan and shook his head with a smile.


    "Stop there! There¡¯s still much to do afterwards. What the people of Prepetcha think of me will depend on how this year¡¯s spring farming goes! Ezpan, you didn¡¯t come to see me just to offer a few congratulatory words, did you?"


    "Your Highness is wise! I encountered several insiders from the city. They are the heroes who offered up South City gate, bearing Your Highness¡¯s Jade Talisman. Now, they wish to report information about the Tarasco prince!"


    "Oh?"


    Xiulote looked interestedly at the two men in front of him.


    The older Prepetcha man on the left was aged, with a face showing respectful smiles and yet a certain steadiness. His eyes were framed with weathered wrinkles, making him look much like an old farmer. The samurai on the right, who seemed to be in his thirties, appeared quite tense. With a fierce face and a bulky figure, he was at this moment bowing respectfully and also presenting the Jade Talisman in his hand.

 Chapter 482 - 237: Meeting and Presenting Gifts_3

    The young king took the Jade Talisman, glanced over it, and confirmed it was the Token he had issued not long before. He nodded slightly and said with a gentle smile,


    &"Very well! By offering up the southern gate and sparing the army from a siege, you preserved many lives within the city. Your contribution is significant! I promised you a hereditary nobility title, and I won¡¯t go back on my word. The due rewards and riches will also be granted... Hmm, where is the Prince of Tarasco now?"


    &"Thank you, Your Highness, for your generosity!"


    Puap¡¯s face was bright with joy as he knelt on the ground. He kowtowed several times before speaking indignantly,


    &"Your Highness, we snuck into the Palace of Wind and went through considerable trouble to take Prince Shatini of the Royal Family. But when we reached the eastern gate, a city-guarding commander intercepted us... The prince and the riches were taken, and we nearly lost our lives!"


    Upon hearing this, Ezpan¡¯s face stiffened, and he translated Puap¡¯s words. Xiulote frowned slightly before he spoke, his face calm,


    &"I see... The prince captured at the eastern gate is called Shatini. Hmm, I¡¯ve never heard the name; it seems he is not high in the line of succession."


    Chiwaco looked up, carefully observing His Highness¡¯s expression. Seeing him unaffected, he understood there would be no commendation for this military achievement. The old Militia clenched his teeth, set down the bamboo basket behind him, and after rummaging through the soft, beautiful Feathers, he finally produced, under Bertade¡¯s wary gaze, an Emerald Gemstone as big as a fist!


    &"For you, oh Great Master of the Heavens! This is the Emerald Gemstone inherited by the Tarasco Royal Family, as large as the moon!"


    The lustrous Emerald shined under the firelight, casting a captivating light. In that instant, the surrounding Samurai all held their breaths, fixated on the enchanting, shifting radiance. In Central American culture, a gleaming and dazzling Emerald symbolizes supreme wisdom, able to see through everything and foresee the future like the Feathered Serpent Divine!


    Xiulote straightened his back and reached out his hand. Chiwaco carefully handed the gemstone to the trusted aide, who briefly inspected it before giving it to His Highness. Xiulote caressed the bright, smooth, gigantic gemstone, his eyes showing delight.


    &"Such a massive Emerald Gemstone! It perfectly matches my title of Divine Revelation!"


    &"Your Highness, this gemstone is passed down from the Royal Family of Tarasco. It witnesses your majestic feat of destroying a kingdom and aligns with your Divine wisdom... It is a gift from the Chief Divine! Promising you the power to rule the lands around the lake,


    if it were to be crafted into a Divine Staff and declared before the masses... and if the Priests were to write praises and the Poets to compose songs in its honor... not only would the army¡¯s generals be in awe, but the people of Prepetcha, upon hearing of it, would prostrate and accept your rule!"


    Ezpan¡¯s eyes gleamed. His thoughts flashed rapidly, and he knelt again, congratulating. As a Prepetcha, he knew well that the lake-dwelling people shared a devout faith in the divine, a fascination with Divine Objects, and a reverence for fate and omens. If properly utilized, this gemstone could be more powerful than tens of thousands of Samurai!


    Hearing Ezpan¡¯s suggestion, Xiulote pondered for a moment before bursting into hearty laughter.


    &"Commanded by heaven, may the longevity and prosperity... Good, very good! Ezpan, you indeed came up with an excellent idea! After this western conquest, you too should be promoted to hereditary Nobility. And with this idea alone, your future is assured of glory!"


    Upon hearing His Highness¡¯s promise, Ezpan shook with excitement, joyfully bowing deeply. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    &"Thank you for this grace, Your Highness! Please take hold of my hair, for you are my only sun!"


    Xiulote extended his hand with a smile, and the trusted aides¡¯ faces instantly showed envy. Chiwaco and Puap might not fully understand, but they could roughly grasp the meaning. The old Militia¡¯s eyes slightly reddened. He bit his lip and once more, from the bamboo basket, produced a bloodstained cloth bundle!


    &"Generous Great Master, contained within here, is the head of Tarasco¡¯s foremost chief!"

 Chapter 483 - 238: A Conversation with Destiny

    Flames flickered on the city battlements, illuminating the astonished expressions of everyone; the night wind weaved through the city towers, carrying the lingering scent of blood. Xiulote¡¯s smile paused in the wind. His expression instantly turned solemn, focusing on the cloth bag in Chiwaco¡¯s hands.


    "The chief of Tarasco? Bring it here, open it!"


    The trusted aide promptly stepped forward and carefully opened the cloth bag. An aged, white-haired head was presented before everyone. The head¡¯s features were old, the expression peaceful, the eyes closed, with only the white hair stained with blood. Puap couldn¡¯t bear it and turned away, slightly bowing his head and wiping the corner of his eye with his hand.


    Xiulote stared at the head for a moment, then looked back at Chiwaco. The old militia¡¯s expression was equally tranquil, tinged with a hint of anticipation as he looked at him.


    "The chief of Tarasco... the greatest contribution to this battle..."


    The young king pondered for a while, then gazed at the Surrendered General, Ezpan.


    "Ezpan, have you ever seen the Hummingbird chief?"


    Ezpan shook his head with a bitter smile.


    "Your Highness, I was just a miner before... later just a Militia Captain..."


    "Hmm. Summon Commander-in-Chief Crocodile, Ospai!"


    Xiulote nodded slightly, then fell into deep thought.


    The young king had never seen the chief of Tarasco but had long heard of this opponent and greatly admired him. If the Tarasco Kingdom were likened to a chariot, the young King Su¡¯angua was merely a general waving long spears on the chariot. Chief Jinjinni was the true charioteer controlling the kingdom. Born into distinguished nobility, he had managed the kingdom for thirty years, aiding successive monarchs. He was ruthless and flexible externally, suppressing the northern and southern Tekos; internally, he strengthened central authority, controlling both the Priest and nobility. It could be said his understanding and influence over the Tarasco Kingdom surpassed that of anyone else in the world.


    In this western campaign, the fierce resistance encountered by the two Mexica legions originated from the Hummingbird chief¡¯s desperate mobilization in the Lake Region. Without the aid of new weapons, the second western campaign likely would have also returned without success... Although hope was extremely faint, Xiulote still wished to recruit the opponent... but now...


    The young king once again looked towards the serene, closed-eyed head, feeling an inexplicable surge of anger and irritation in his heart.


    Chiwaco carefully observed the contemplative His Highness. His face bore desire and hope, yet a hint of ill-omen surged in his heart.


    The torches flickered, the wind gradually died. The city tower was quiet; even the air turned solemn. Soon, a procession of torches rushed from the camp outside the city and headed straight towards the city battlements.


    Ospai, in his sleeping robe, with messy hair and dark circles under his eyes, glanced over the capital filled with fire and conflict, his heart growing sadder, even his steps staggered. The Crocodile Commander-in-Chief bowed his head, stopping several paces away, then prostrated before His Highness.


    "Respected Your Highness, Ospai greets you. What may I do for you?"


    "Hmm, Ospai, calling you out so late, there are mainly two matters."


    A faint smile appeared on Xiulote¡¯s face. He stood atop the city wall, overlooking the magnificent capital city, then glanced lightly at Ospai.


    "The lights tonight are extraordinarily brilliant! From above, the city¡¯s flames, fallen banners, burning Temple, present a sight rarely seen in a century. Ospai, you are a wise man, you must have seen clearly on the way here, what are your thoughts?"


    "Ah... thoughts... I... the King has been captured, the Kingdom is lost... Your Highness, by the Chief Divine¡¯s witness! From now on, I will be loyal to you!"


    Ospai¡¯s eyes flickered. As clever as he was, he instantly understood the meaning of His Highness. His heart still struggled, but his body truthfully knelt on the ground, earnestly responding with his words.


    "You rise like the sun, Your Highness! I will exert all my effort, to aid Your Highness, ruling the lands of the lake!"


    "Very well. Ospai, rise. Oh, there is one more thing I wanted to ask you."


    Xiulote chuckled softly, lightly patting Ospai¡¯s shoulder, then pointed forward.


    "You see, I have a newly acquired head, and you should be acquainted with it. Hmm, what do you think, how should it be dealt with?"


    Ospai¡¯s heart shuddered; upon hearing this, he looked up to see in a trusted aide¡¯s hands, an aged head being held. The Crocodile Commander-in-Chief shivered all over, and after barely recognizing it, he fell to the ground in horror, his voice trembling.


    "Ah, Your Highness... this... this!... I...


    "What, don¡¯t you recognize him?"


    "Your Highness, Chief Jinjinni managed the kingdom for thirty years, naturally, I recognize him..."


    "Oh?"


    The young king¡¯s voice slightly raised. He continued smiling and asked.


    "Ospai, then how should it be dealt with?"


    "Pounding" the Crocodile Commander-in-Chief violently knocked his head on the ground several times, then with tear-filled eyes, said,


    "Your Highness, although the Hummingbird chief resisted the Alliance and committed great sins... he was distinguished, lived simply, and had a resolute character. In the hearts of the Tarasco nobility, he is a figure both revered and feared...


    I was stationed on the frontier, also suppressed by the chief for over a decade, often harboring resentment... but now seeing his head, I also cannot help but shed tears... Since the chief has been beheaded, please, Your Highness, preserve his last dignity and let him turn to ashes in the flames..."


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression shifted slightly, and he nodded slowly. He sighed softly, then patted Ospai¡¯s shoulder again.


    "Alright, as you say!... Ospai, I know you value loyalty and integrity, and I admire your talents... I will grant you the highest rank among the Prepetcha people in the lands of the lake. I treat you sincerely, you must not be double-minded again! Otherwise..."


    The voice suddenly grew cold. The young king¡¯s face expressionless, he looked again towards the aged head. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 484 - 238 Destiny’s Conversation_2

    "Your Highness, I...I swear on the name of my ancestors!"


    Overwhelmed, Espai trembled violently, forcibly casting himself down to the ground. His emotional defenses collapsed in a moment, fear, awe, anticipation, and gratitude surged through his heart, emerging as a choked and sobbing cry.


    "From this day forward, I shall serve you unto death!"


    Xiulote calmly regarded Espai for a moment before smiling. He stepped forward, grasping the Crocodile Commander¡¯s hair, and said with a gentle smile.


    "I am aware of your loyalty. The night is deep, go back and rest!"


    Upon hearing this, Espai hurriedly rose, bowing deeply to His Highness. He glanced one more time at the Great Chief¡¯s head, then staggered and turned to depart.


    Xiolote¡¯s eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched Espai disappear from the ramparts. Only then did he slowly turn, his gaze shifting towards the two surrendered men, his smile turning icy cold.


    "The Chief of Tarasco...did he leave any last words before he died?"


    The old Militia watched the Great Master¡¯s expression and shuddered inside. After Ezpan translated the question, Puap respectfully bowed his head and repeated the Chief¡¯s final instructions.


    "The Colima Mountain Region, the Great Chief, the noble bloodline, Prince Shatini..."


    After listening to Ezpan¡¯s translation, Xiulote¡¯s gaze flickered. He mused for a moment, then sighed softly.


    "To make such arrangements before death, almost planting a seed of trouble for the Alliance...such dedication from a Chief..."


    The young King was stirred by complex emotions. Looking at Puap, he asked without a trace of emotion.


    "Your Family Head put great trust in you, entrusting the Prince to your hands. Then, you turned around and beheaded him, bringing both the Prince and the head to us. Puap, as a loyal Samurai, do you feel any guilt?"


    "I..."


    Upon hearing His Highness¡¯s calm question, Puap felt both ashamed and remorseful, unable to utter a word. Fear and guilt entwined in his heart, he suddenly fell to his knees and wept softly.


    "I didn¡¯t want it to be this way...it was...it was always Chiwaco who did it..."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s eyebrows rose slightly as he shifted his cold gaze towards the old Militia.


    "Was it you who killed your own Family Head, severing his head?"


    Seeing the eyes of His Highness, Chiwaco¡¯s heart beat violently, a sense of imminent danger rising within him. The old Militia immediately fell to his knees, bowing deeply three times before raising his head and shouting urgently.


    "Wise Great Master, this so-called Chief was never my Family Head, nor have I ever received an ounce of kindness from him. On the contrary, he was a cruel tiger, a greedy wolf! He destroyed my village, killed my fellow villagers, and ruined my home! He was my enemy!"


    "Hmm?"


    Xiolote¡¯s expression changed as he spoke.


    "Enemy?"


    "Yes, Great Master."


    The old Militia clenched his teeth, gathering the courage to look directly into Xiulote¡¯s eyes, and spoke with sincerity.


    "I was once a farmer in a village of the Lake Region. I had a hardworking wife, a fifteen-year-old son, and a thirteen-year-old daughter. Although the Tribute was heavy, we farmed and fished, and life was rather good. Corn turned into cakes for Tribute, pumpkins and beans filled our stomachs. We also grew sweet potatoes, made pots and bowls, even bricked under our house..."


    Chiwaco¡¯s expression became distant as scenes of the past flashed before his eyes. He thought he had become cold enough, but now a warmth flowed within him. However, soon dark memories followed.


    "Last spring during the planting, I was busy in the fields, my wife cooking with the children. The Samurai came from the Capital City for conscription. I boarded a small boat, took up a Long Spear, and before I could speak to my family, I was taken hundreds of miles north. I was stationed at the Rivermouth fortress, then the Lords boarded us onto a ship to a Great Lake where I faced a massive battle. I will never forget that scene. Fire Arrows flew across the sky, becoming exploding Fire Demons, countless ships burning, flames covering even the water!"


    "The Battle of Lake Yuriria." S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiolote¡¯s eyes sharpened; this was a veteran of the battle on the lake.


    "It was terrible! When ships crashed together, they burnt together. Lords fell like cornstalks, Militia like weeds. Dozens of my fellow villagers died in that battle, leaving only a handful of old brothers. We rowed a small boat, escaped back to the Rivermouth fortress. The Alliance army soon followed. Surrounded for months, Feathered Arrows flew, the roar of the God of Thunder outside and inside the walls, Fire Demons burning on the ramparts. Lords on the ground and on the wall turned to weeds, charred by flames. Then, the Force of the God of Thunder struck, the western gate where I was stationed burst open, and the Alliance¡¯s Lords flooded in like a deluge!"


    "The Battle of Rivermouth Fortress. You actually escaped alive!"


    Xiolote was visibly moved. He considered the old Militia before him thoughtfully.


    "I led my brothers out of the city, got a small boat, and fled south to my home. I was full of hope, wanting to escape the war and live the same life as before with my wife and children. But when I returned to my hometown..."


    Suddenly, Chiwaco sobbed uncontrollably. Large tears fell from his eyes, soaking his blood-stained Black Robe.


    "The village was gone...my wife was gone...my son and daughter gone! This damned Chief, thrice conscripted, not even a living dog remained in the village, just one old man who should have died but didn¡¯t! His son died too, he had no more hope. When I last ventured out, he too had perished, his body sprawled like a dog!"

 Chapter 485 - 238 Destiny’s Dialogue_3

    "Great Master, with just a few fleeting words, the Prime Minister destroyed everything we had, and we didn¡¯t even need to face him! From that moment on, I regarded him as an enemy to the death! Tell me, what¡¯s wrong with killing him?"


    Chiwaco stared with tear-filled eyes, bloodshot with desperation. Xiulote slightly lowered his gaze, avoiding the old Militia¡¯s eyes, at a loss for words.


    Beside him, Puap¡¯s expression changed rapidly as memories of the past flashed through his mind. After a moment, he looked at the old Militia with shock, as if seeing him for the first time. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Old Chi...you...you!..."


    "Haha, that¡¯s right. The Hummingbird Samurai, still wouldn¡¯t let us go. A few old brothers and I were dragged into the city like stray dogs, following Great Master Huitu, tasked with guarding the city walls. Then, night and day, I searched until I found my own daughter. She... had been sent to the logistics camp... Oh... I failed her. I swore an oath to find every opportunity to avenge my wife and children!"


    "The Alliance¡¯s army soon marched south, facing off against that damned King. We emerged from the city to aid them, and watched as the King¡¯s banners fell. The Kingdom¡¯s cocoa fell, and the monkeys scattered from the trees! I finally found my chance and made contact with the Alliance nobility."


    "So that¡¯s how it was! On the plains of the Lake Region, the Royal Army decided to fight. Not only did you flee, but you also passed on a message."


    Xiulote let out a deep sigh. Here was a tenacious old Militia, impossible to crush down.


    "Great Master, we guided the Alliance into the city. Not only for your reward but also for the civilians of the Capital City! What does the outcome of the nobles¡¯ wars have to do with us humble weeds? The longer the city is besieged, the more people inside die; the fiercer the attack, the more people die on its walls. Aren¡¯t those who die in front of us just common folk to be trampled upon?"


    "Great Master, the Prime Minister of the Royal Palace is the enemy of the people! He conscripts us, takes our food, sends our women to barbarians like beasts, forcing so many to their deaths! I stood tall and killed him with a clear conscience, with no guilt in my heart, only full of satisfaction and joy! And for the Alliance, with so many merits to our name, have we done anything wrong?"


    Chiwaco finally knelt up straight, candidly meeting Xiulote¡¯s gaze. His face was so plain, his wrinkles so aged, with old tears twinkling in his eyes. Yet upon closer look, Xiulote found the old Militia¡¯s gaze exceptionally bright, like a profound morning star.


    "Alas...the living barely scrape by...for miles no chickens crow...when the Kingdom falls, it¡¯s the common folk who suffer the most, yet no one hears their voice!"


    Xiulote turned his back, his hands clasped behind him, gazing up at the night sky of the grand Capital City, watching the subsiding glow of fires, muttering to himself. The King¡¯s turbulent emotions gradually calmed. Then, he looked at Chiwaco again, his eyes mild with appreciation, his tone becoming gentle.


    "Well said! Neither you nor Puap are wrong, you are both heroes of the Alliance! He led the opening of the south gate, and I promised him a hereditary noble title. You offered the gemstone and the head, what else do you want?... Speak boldly, I will try to grant it!"


    Chiwaco¡¯s expression froze. He thought of his daughter, of the future life, and his straight back slowly curved again. The old Militia thought carefully for a long time before responding with sincere and cautious words.


    "Great Master, I was born a farmer, at most a Militia, not cut out to be a master. I don¡¯t fancy ordering others around or being waited upon. If you ask me what I want, I only wish for a promise from you for a peaceful life! I just want to live quietly with my daughter and son-in-law, my whole family safe and secure, no longer conscripted by the Alliance or oppressed by the Samurai."


    "Oh? A modest life, free from taxes and labor, peaceful for a lifetime?"


    Xiulote paused, pondering for a moment, his smile growing even warmer as he continued to ask.


    "Just that simple, anything else?"


    "There is more, I wish for a few brothers who followed me to have a chance at life. So they won¡¯t be like wild turkeys, running wild with no peaceful home to return to. Lastly, I¡¯d like to ask you to help look for my son. Although he¡¯s likely dead, my heart can¡¯t stop worrying..."


    "Hmm, I will grant your brothers the title of nobility for their military merits. I will also dispatch people to search for your son. But..."


    The young King showed a kindly smile, touching Chiwaco¡¯s hair with his hand. A long-held plan resurfaced in his mind, and this time, he had finally met the perfect candidate.


    "Chiwaco, how is your swimming?"


    "Swimming? You mean swimming? I grew up by the lake; my swimming is just a notch below the fish."


    The old Militia felt the palm on his head, confusion on his face, but a new sense of crisis began to grow.


    "Good, very good! Chiwaco, you managed to escape all the way from the northern borders and survived the great war. It seems the God of Destiny favors you! No matter the adversity, you always have a chance to survive!"


    "Ah? This!... Great Master, I¡¯m just a common Militia, and I don¡¯t fight battles..."


    The old Militia hurriedly explained, only to be interrupted by the Prince¡¯s ruthless words.


    "Don¡¯t worry! I¡¯m not sending you to battle, nor right away."


    Xiulote withdrew his hand, stroking the smooth Emerald. His face lit up with the smile of destiny, as if glimpsing a distant country.


    "I¡¯m just asking you, to take a long journey in the near future!"


    The vast winds swept through the gradually calming Capital City, billowing black smoke into the wide sky. Carried by the wind, the smoke, like spirits riding the clouds, flew towards the distant horizon. And the King¡¯s gaze settled on the boundless south!

 Chapter 487 - 239: Conversion Ceremony, Enfeoffment Ceremony, The End of the Western Expedition!_2

    The Head Warrior bowed and complied. The young King then turned and descended from the castle tower. He was to meet Aweit in person, report the latest situation, and discuss subsequent arrangements.


    Five days hurried by, and the winds of May blew from the East. In front of the remnants of the House of Wind Temple, under the majestic reflection of the pyramid, nearly seventy thousand city residents were driven to the surroundings of the square. Twenty thousand Mexica legionnaires held shields and staves, three thousand archers occupied strategic positions, and the Temple District was tightly controlled. The atmosphere was filled with solemnity.


    High atop the Akatla, a great altar was set up, and a roaring Sacred Fire was lit beneath the pyramid. Xiulote, adorned in a Feather Crown Ceremonial Dress, stood at the peak over forty meters high, overlooking the sprawling masses below like a swarm of ants. A surge of heroic spirit echoed in the King¡¯s heart, as if he held the world in his palm. Behind him, Aweit, dressed in the King¡¯s Divine Garb, sat solemnly on a golden Throne of the Gods, his face breaking into a smile as he watched the young High Priest.


    Incense was thrown into the Sacred Fire, and the divine smoke that spiraled upward spread a pleasant aroma. Hundreds of War Priests began to sing sacred hymns, and their solemn praises resonated throughout the Capital City, drowning out faint cries. Subsequently, Xiulote raised both hands, and twenty thousand samurai simultaneously knelt on one knee, shouting prayers toward the pyramid.


    "Praise the highest Chief Divine! Praise the majestic King! Praise the brave Highness!"


    In the midst of thunderous cheers, Aweit stood up, solemnly raising the Yellow Gemstone Scepter in his hand and bellowed loudly. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Chief Divine has decreed His will! He has conquered the three gods, His Throne of the Gods raised high once again! The Chief Divine says, the light of the Sun encompasses the lands amid the lake, the Tarasco Kingdom perishes today! Henceforth, the people of Prepetcha are now Citizens of the Alliance, devotees of the Chief Divine, partners of the Mexica! The glorious conquest to the west has been victorious, the warriors of the divine battle, shall be blessed by the Chief Divine!... God bless the Alliance, ruling over the whole world!"


    "God bless the Alliance, ruling over the whole world!"


    The boiling shouts shook heaven and earth, also shaking the people of Prepetcha in the square. Twenty thousand Mexica warriors banged their shields, chanting in unison with the Priests to pray to the Chief Divine, praising His divine light.


    "Praise the Sun God Huitzilopochtli! His light falls upon the earth, and also upon the hearts of the believers! He is the deity that commands all, also determining the fate of the non-believers! Offer the Sacrifices, pray for the coming of the Chief Divine!"


    "Bang! Boom! Boom!" The priests poured carbon powder into the Sacred Fire, causing the flames to suddenly flare up. Then, two wooden cannons fired simultaneously into the sky, the thunderous sounds echoing throughout the Capital City. The city¡¯s residents trembled in terror, cowering on the ground in reverence of the divine power, finally praying to the Mexica¡¯s Chief Divine.


    The Sacred Fire burned fiercely, the sounds of the cannons roared, and five hundred eighty-four Temple Guards dragged an equal number of captives from the Royal Family and the Nobility in front of the priests. It was the cycle of Venus, heralding destruction and rebirth. The Divine Descendant captives were dressed splendidly, bound hand and foot, with cotton stuffed in their mouths. They were the ceremonial Sacrifices, large ceramic pots were ready with tequila already poured in them.


    Moments later, the priests¡¯ chanting suddenly intensified, and the warriors¡¯ cheers erupted fiercely; the residents of the Capital City widened their eyes. The sharp Obsidian Dagger traced the ritualistic arc with exceptional precision. Following that, the sublime essence rose upwards and the vibrant life descended. The great pot of Blood Wine was mixed, provided for the devoted warriors and Militia.


    "Praise the War God Huitzilopochtli! He uses the blood and souls of the Sacrificers to grant courage to those in battle, promises victory to warriors, also controlling their body and mind!... Drink the Blood Wine, shine the glory of the Chief Divine!"


    Guided by the Mexica warriors, over ten thousand captive Tarasco warriors, Militia, and members of the Tekos Tribe were the first to convert. Soon, the first batch of a thousand warriors knelt before the Sacred Fire, had their hair cut off by a thousand War Priests, thrown into the fire, then drank the crimson Blood Wine, reiterating their oaths of loyalty to the Chief Divine. Then, they were led dazedly to kneel aside.


    Ezpan, accompanied by the Militia of royal descent, guarded the perimeter. They shouted loudly in the Prepetcha language, recounting the might of the Chief Divine, praising the future of the believers, then threatening with the fate of the unfortunate. Hundreds of elite warriors looked somber, lowered their Bronze Axes, fresh red dripping down the blades, the consequences of non-conversion apparent.


    Blue smoke rose, carrying the scent of burning hair. The Nobility and senior officers among the captives had already been led away; the remaining Soldiers could only go with the flow. Large groups of warriors poured in like a stream. They knelt, cut hair, saluted, drank, prayed, and finally withdrew. Occasional resistance and uproar were like insignificant waves, instantly turning red.


    Xiulote looked solemnly from high atop the pyramid. Tens of thousands of Tarasco soldiers gathered like tiny specks of dust. Swept by an irresistible Force, they were transformed, their spirits impacted, silently scattering to the sides. In this moment, the King, high above, effortlessly controlled the life and death of everyone. This peculiar sensation was intoxicating, making one feel light and somewhat dazed.


    Xiulote turned back to look at the seated Aweit. The true King appeared calm, overlooking the world, his gaze treating all people as insignificant. Only when his eyes met the young one did he nod slightly, smiling gently.


    "Praise the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! He brings light to all who are lost, allows them to feel the warmth of the gods, and saves the souls of all!... Convert to the Chief Divine, remember His divine name!"

 Chapter 488 - 239: Conversion Ceremony, Enfeoffment Ceremony, The End of the Western Expedition!_3

    Amidst the chanting of the priests, more than ten thousand warriors had converted, prostrating themselves on the blue stone ground. Next, it was the turn of nearly sixty thousand civilians. The priests removed the Blood Wine, replacing it with lukewarm corn cakes, the fragrance of the food instantly diffusing. Another wave of restlessness emerged in the crowd. The Temple Warriors strode forward. They swung their War Clubs through the air, blew the chilling Death Whistle, and easily suppressed the commotion.


    The conversion ceremony for the civilians was even simpler. A single priest could handle seven or eight people at a time. The civilians trembled as they knelt before the Sacred Fire. They cut off a lock of hair and cast it into the flames, listening to the priest¡¯s prayers. They needed to remember the name of the Chief Divine, repeat it three times, and then they could carry the corn cakes to either side.


    The Sacred Fire was fed twice more, as the sun slowly set. In the glow of the sunset, the pyramid cast a slanting ephemeral shadow, covering the crowd on the ground. Countless ¡¯ant-like¡¯ figures moved slowly, pausing before the Sacred Fire, then gathering like dust to all points of the compass. They were like the sand in the hourglass toys of the deities, silently running out.


    The setting sun¡¯s blood-like hue imbued the youthful king¡¯s eyes. Xiulote slightly lowered his head, looking at his own hands, which seemed to grasp the fates of countless people.


    Aweit slowly rose from his golden throne. He looked around, guards stood at a distance, kings sat high above. At this height shared by only two, he took out a newly-crafted Emerald Divine Staff and asked with a smile.


    "Xiulote, my child, are you ready?"


    "Aweit, I am ready."


    Xiulote turned around, facing his mentor, and slowly knelt to the ground. His gaze was calm and joyful, yet his shoulders seemed ever heavier.


    "The sun opens its red eyes, the Chief Divine witnesses the blood-colored future!"


    Aweit raised both hands high, the priests cried out in unison, and a hundred thousand people simultaneously fell silent. At this moment, at the foot of the grand pyramid, no matter whether nobility, samurais, or civilians, all were prostrated on the blue stone ground. A hundred thousand people looked up to see the red sun sinking on the pyramid¡¯s pinnacle, the blood-colored brilliance emerging on the kings¡¯ bodies, stirring the heart. The sacred heaven and earth tightly connected at this moment, and the incarnation of the deities descended upon humanity!


    "The Chief Divine witnesses! He departs with the crimson sky, leaving the earth to mankind!"


    "He says, the Alliance is destined to conquer the world, kings are born to reign over all directions! The leader of the Mexica is the ruler of the world, the king of Mexica is the king of the world!"


    "In the name of the Divine Descendant king, in the king¡¯s name!"


    King Aweit, with a face like a deity, clasped his fists, looking down at all directions like a mighty eagle. Where the king¡¯s gaze roamed, tens of thousands in the crowd bowed their heads to the ground. They offered up heartfelt reverence and obedience to the incarnation of the deities. A smile emerged on Aweit¡¯s face, which he then reined in, once more solemn and sacred.


    "In the king¡¯s name! I, Aweit, king of all, assign the land in the heart of Lake Michi to my heir, the ¡¯Divine Revelator¡¯ Xiulote! From the Rivermouth fortress to the north, to the Tarsas River to the south, from the Xitaqualo Mountains to the east, to the endless Great Lake to the west, all shall become his fief! He shall wield the authority of both deity and king to rule over the rivers, mountains, flora, and fauna of the Lake Region, govern the cities and villages upon this land, and all its citizens, exercising a power second only to mine!"


    With these words, Aweit finally approached Xiulote. A smile played on his face. He raised his right hand and passed the Emerald Divine Staff in his hand to Xiulote, letting the youth feel its cool touch. The bright Emerald Gemstone emitted a radiance of boundless wisdom, also foretelling a future without limits!


    "Xiulote, I entrust to you the Divine Object of Tarasco! From this day forth, you are the king of the land within the lake!" Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote nodded in salute, suppressing the excitement in his heart, and tightly gripped the Divine Staff. Then, he slowly rose, facing the hundred thousand people below the pyramid, and slowly spread his arms!


    The Divine Staff raised high, the gemstone glittering, the cheers of the Mexica legion erupted in a moment! Shouts filled the Capital City, shaking the souls of everyone, until they converged into an overwhelming cry:


    "Divine Revelation Priest, king of the Lake Region! Priest King!"

 Chapter 489 - 240: The Four Directions, Population, and Able-bodied Men

    The June wind came from the Great Lake in the East. It traveled over the undulating highlands and journeyed two thousand miles to the basin of Patzcuaro. The air began to fill with moist vapor, signaling the imminent arrival of the rainy season to the lands by the lake.


    Xiulote stood atop the Palace of Wind, gazing at the surrounding mountains, rivers, and fields. Plumes of conspicuous black smoke rose from the nearby plains, spreading like ink across the sky, leaving lingering traces. The young king watched intently for a moment before slowly turning around. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The slash-and-burn fires this year seem more intense than in previous years."


    "Fields laid fallow are severe, and there¡¯s more vegetation than in the past, so naturally, the smoke from burning them is thicker. But if you look closely at the amount of smoke, you¡¯ll realize that the lands around the lake have become desolate like saline lakes, in need of patient rehabilitation before they can once again teem with prosperous schools of fish."


    Aweit responded with a smile. Dressed in a breathable plain robe, he was inspecting a wooden board in his hands. Soon, he passed the board to Xiulote with a light chuckle.


    "I heard that the Capital City has fallen and Akanbaro State, to the northeast of Qinchongcan along the southern bank of the Lerma River, has sent people to surrender. This is their submission document and pictographic record."


    Xiulote took the board and examined it closely. He saw six banners, each bearing sixteen feathers. In the center, there were three Samurai figures and eight Militia figures. Below these illustrations, there was a figure kneeling, head bowed, genuflecting before a larger figure. The larger figure wore a blue-green Hummingbird helmet, radiated with sunbeams, and held the characteristic Javelin of the Chief Divine. Clearly, this was a symbol of the Mexica Alliance.


    "At this point, Akanbaro State still has three thousand Samurai and eight thousand Militia?"


    Xiulote was somewhat surprised.


    "Haha, that¡¯s just the last gobble of a turkey before it¡¯s caught."


    Aweit laughed.


    "The Intelligence Officer has already conducted a thorough investigation. Many of the minor Nobility from Prepetcha have also pledged their allegiance to me. After being pursued by you all along the way, Akanbaro State now has about one thousand five hundred Samurai and five or six thousand Militia. Most of the Militia were reinforcements sent from the Lake Region to the northern fortresses, but your march southward was too swift, so they stayed where they were."


    "The fortresses of Akanbaro are still relatively strong, but lacking in provisions and supplies, they¡¯ve never had the capability to launch an attack. Now that the Capital City has fallen and the Kingdom has perished, and with the crucial time for spring cultivation upon us, surrender has become inevitable... The difference lies only in the terms of surrender."


    As he spoke, Aweit pondered for a while. He kept the number of banners unchanged, crossed out half of the feathers, and then looked up with a smile.


    "All six hereditary families will be retained, but the number of Great Nobility must be halved, and they will decide among themselves who stays. Let these families fight amongst themselves for a while, and then let Tepopolo take fief over them, which is the best way to keep Akanbaro State firmly in hand."


    Xiulote nodded. Then, he looked at the figure of the Militia on the board, a glint forming in his eyes.


    "Aweit, since these Militia are all sturdy men sent out by the Patzcuaro Lake Region, as a condition of their surrender, they should be returned from Akanbaro State!"


    "Ah, returned? Amidst ongoing conflicts, few Nobility would be willing to give up their sturdy men. However, Akanbaro State is severely short of grain now. If you provide a batch of grain, I can use it to intimidate them during the surrender, which could make them hand over half. As for the remaining half... that will be Tepopolo¡¯s future fief, and you need to leave him something."


    "Good! Three thousand Militia are not an insignificant enhancement. The small city of Patzcuaro to the southeast has already surrendered to the Legion, and there¡¯s a Tarasco Kingdom military granary there. The stored grain can feed more than one hundred thousand people for a year. I don¡¯t lack grain at the moment, just sturdy men."


    A smile formed on Xiulote¡¯s face.


    "Oh? The small city of Patzcuaro... that must be the Tarascan supply depot for the southeastern front, for Xitaqualo State... If it¡¯s sturdy men you lack... the southeastern Legion of Tarasco has already surrendered to me in Xitaqualo. Apart from the few thousand sacrificed wounded, there are about twenty thousand Militia left, and five thousand Tekos Samurai. These people consume a lot of grain, and guarding them requires thousands of Samurai. If you can afford to feed them and keep them under control, they can all be handed over to you!"


    Aweit stretched out his hand and patted Xiulote¡¯s shoulder. Then, a hint of indifference surfaced on the king¡¯s face.


    "If you don¡¯t want them, I can hand them over to the elders, to be used as supplies for building the Temple and as Sacrifices for the Capital City festivities."


    "Twenty-five thousand Surrendered Army!"


    Upon hearing this number, Xiulote¡¯s throat twitched, and he swallowed. He carefully calculated his military forces at hand and then struggled to say.


    "Give me the twenty thousand Militia for collective conversion and reorganization, and I should be able to keep them under control. As for the Tekos Samurai... these tribal forces can only be subdued with overwhelming power. The language barrier makes them difficult to govern, and they are fiercely independent... I only need a few dozen guides from the Colima Mountain Region, that¡¯s all!"


    "Then it¡¯s settled. I¡¯ll send out an Envoy today; you prepare the grain supply for the journey."


    In a light-hearted conversation, the two of them decided the fate of tens of thousands. Aweit smiled faintly, once again looking at his student, with a touch of examination on his face.


    "Xiulote, you¡¯ve been tallying the population these days. Now how many troops, sturdy men, and people do you control?"


    The young king thought for a while, took out a scroll he always carried with him from his garment, and opened it to look through in detail.


    "I¡¯ve been moving southward from the north of the Lerma River. In the battles on the Lake and the siege on the fortresses, I¡¯ve taken about five thousand surrendered Tarasco; then I captured the Huayamo Fortress and fought a major battle with the Chapala Legion, taking another seven or eight thousand, of which more than two thousand Tekos were handed over to Xilotepec City as part of the exchange for the Canine Descendants. Of the remaining more than five thousand, there are over two thousand warriors from the Sky families and more than two thousand archers. That makes a total of ten thousand combat-ready surrendered troops."

 Chapter 490 - 240: The Four Directions, Population, and Able-bodied Men_2

    "Following the fierce battle with the Tarasco Royal Army, it was quite gruesome. Most of the over 3,000 captives were injured. After sacrificing the more severely wounded, only 2,000 were incorporated. After conquering the Capital City, nearly 15,000 surrendered troops were assimilated, half of whom were common folks from the Tekos Tribe. Adding the surrendered towns in the Lake Region, that totaled 30,000 surrendered troops."


    At this point, Xiulote sighed.


    "These 30,000 surrendered troops can also be considered as the able-bodied men of the Prepetcha people. In the fiefdom areas I control, Qinchongcan City has 60,000 civilians, of which 20,000 are able-bodied. Along the lake, there are only over a hundred thousand elderly and frail. The northern part of Lake Patzcuaro is in ruins, only the western part of the lake area is slightly better, and by my estimate, there are about a hundred thousand people, around ten thousand able-bodied. Whereas the southern part of Lake Patzcuaro is a bit better, mainly the intact state of Apachigan, but I estimate it¡¯s also no more than two hundred thousand people, forty thousand able-bodied."


    "Aweit, I haven¡¯t had the chance to sort out the south. Although the state of Apachigan has already surrendered, it still largely maintains autonomy... Roughly speaking, you have given me such a large fiefdom, yet there are fewer than five hundred thousand people, a hundred thousand able-bodied. And truly under my control, there are only about three hundred thousand people, sixty thousand able-bodied."


    Upon hearing Xiulote¡¯s grievances, Aweit could not help but chuckle. He reached out to the young monarch¡¯s head, and Xiulote instinctively tried to dodge but then stopped himself. Aweit gripped the youth¡¯s hair then again smiled.


    "Xiulote, three hundred thousand people, sixty thousand able-bodied, what else could you possibly be unsatisfied with? When the twenty thousand surrendered militia arrive, you will have eighty thousand able-bodied, most of whom are warriors experienced in combat! In the west of this realm, you will not encounter any rival!"


    At this, Aweit¡¯s gaze grew profound. He continued to smile as he spoke.


    "My intelligence officer has already given me a report. The fief of Tepopolo in Apachigan has a sparse population, dense forests, merely seventy to eighty thousand people. And Iskali¡¯s Xitaqualo, with its rugged terrain and rolling hills, has also only sixty to seventy thousand people. As for the southern copper mountain region of the Alsace River, Weytamo... although the area is vast and has over a hundred thousand inhabitants, the mountain people have always been fierce and difficult to manage, and the terrain fragmented and broken, nowhere near as good as yours!"


    Listening to Aweit¡¯s description, Xiulote quickly updated the map in his mind with the demographic situations of the surrounding areas. These figures, although roughly estimated and even reliant on the number of Samurai and salt consumption, were rare secrets of the age. In the entire realm, only the Mexica King, who valued intelligence and had many scouts, could understand the conditions of each state in detail.


    It was a good while before Xiulote finally let out a sigh.


    "Your Majesty, I am already very satisfied with my current fiefdom... It¡¯s just that I feel somewhat emotional. You gave me the essence of the Tarasco Kingdom, the entire Patzcuaro Lake region. Just a few years ago, even last year, this place had a population of a million, two to three hundred thousand able-bodied. Yet within just a year of great war, the population has halved, and six out of ten able-bodied men have perished. If it continues for another two years... the brutality of the western conquest, the difficulty of the Alliance¡¯s victory, it¡¯s clear from here!"


    At these words, Aweit paused. He turned his back, walking to the balcony, gazing out over the vast lands to the east. The smoking peaks of the Divine Mountain seemed within reach, and the mountain fortresses of Xitaqualo resurfaced in his mind.


    "Indeed, crossing hundreds of mountains, flying over hundreds of miles of forests, the golden eagles and red hawks battle to the death, such is the hardship of the western conquest!"


    "This past year of warfare, the Southern Army lost nearly 15,000 Samurai, over 20,000 militia. Nearly forty thousand warriors perished in the lands around the lake, needing years, perhaps a decade, to recuperate fully. And the consumption of hundreds of thousands of catties of provisions has completely emptied the capital¡¯s storehouses, pushing the tribute demands to their limits. It will take years to accumulate sufficient food and supplies again!"


    "A monarch¡¯s ambition flies high like an eagle, yet his gaze fixed upon the entire realm. However, neither people nor food can grow overnight, leaving only the passage of time, as the mighty eagle ages in vain!"


    Aweit looked at the soaring eagles in the distant sky, exhaled deeply, and slowly shook his head.


    At these words, Xiulote fell silent. He resumed scrutinizing the fresh red markings in his carry-on booklet, and after a while, he too sighed.


    "The casualties of the Northern Legion were also severe. Over the year, despite my advantage in weapons and my efforts to catch the enemy off guard in field battles, we still lost ten thousand Samurai, seven thousand Militia, and had many wounded. I called up many Otomi Warriors and Canine Descendants as Mercenaries, and I used them on the frontline of the siege, thus minimizing the casualties of the Mexica warriors..."


    "After this Western Campaign, the military strength of the Alliance was reduced by a full quarter, and the direct forces of the Royal Family suffered even greater losses. Indeed, we cannot launch a major military campaign again for several years. The Tarasco Kingdom has already been annihilated by the Alliance, and my next focus is to integrate and assimilate the Prepetcha people."


    Hearing this, Aweit nodded. He turned his body to look at the hall of the Palace of Wind, where a mural was yet to be covered. The Divine Eagle soared in the sky, accompanied by Hummingbirds on both sides. On the ground, a group of people came from the northwest along the river, settled by the lake, built houses and towns, and their tribes flourished and expanded. And on the eastern side of the mural, the sun was slowly rising.


    "The painting is quite good! The painter¡¯s skill is exquisite, no less than that of the Lake Capital City."


    King Aweit laughed in admiration and then spoke somberly.


    "Xiulote, my student, you have done well! The Chichimeca Canine Descendants of the north have already moved south on a large scale, and the northern Tekos Tribe is also causing trouble. The Chapala Lake Region has already suffered heavy losses, and with the casualties of the Western Campaign, the population will probably be halved. I have already received their Messenger. The new Feather Prince intends to submit to the Alliance and will soon send delegates to present gifts."


    "Feather Prince Pengguari? The one I dealt with? He¡¯s sending people to present gifts?"


    Xiulote remembered encountering the swift-as-wind Feather Marshal and was slightly surprised. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, he is quite a character! After the defeat in the battle with the Northern Army, he successfully led the main force of his family back and still holds the Silver Family Head. In less than half a year, he purified the Sky Family, married the legitimate daughter of the Silver Family, and then unified the entire Chapala Lake Region, proclaiming himself as a Prince and claiming to be a descendant of the Divine Eagle."


    At the mention of the Divine Eagle¡¯s descendant, Aweit laughed once more.


    "Now, Pengguari essentially inherits the legacy of the Tarasco Kingdom in the northwest. He controls three hundred thousand people, sixty to seventy thousand able-bodied, with the administrative center in Tzitzapan, still five hundred miles away from Qinchongcan Capital and even further from the Lake Capital City. In the short term, the Alliance has neither the desire nor the resources to launch another large-scale, long-distance campaign, so we naturally accepted his submission."


    Aweit¡¯s eyes shone like burning flames. He looked at Xiulote, his expression now serious.


    "Xiulote, my student! The Tlaxcala Wolfhounds are barking in the east, and I will not linger here long. I will return to the East in the coming days, but let me speak a few last words to you."


    "This Western Campaign resulted in the population of the Tarasco Kingdom, originally over 1.6 million, being reduced to about one million. These six hundred thousand skeletons are the price paid for the rise of the Sun God! Groups not under the control of the Alliance, no matter how many die or are injured, need not concern us. The common people will always grow back like weeds. It is only the lands and lakes that are the foundation of everything!"


    "You should patiently recuperate for a few years, win over the hearts of the Lake Region people, and train the able-bodied Prepetcha. Then take control of the south¡¯s Apachigan, and campaign against the west¡¯s Saka and the further west Chapala Lake Region. To the southwest, there are still many Tekos Tribes and the Colima Mountain Region you constantly think of."


    "Xiulote, after I return to the East, the issues in the west are yours to handle. Whether to subdue or conciliate the various factions is up to your decision. I just want peace in the west, so it doesn¡¯t affect the Texcoco Lake District. After a few more years of accumulating provisions and training a new batch of warriors, the time will come for a thorough resolution with the people of Tlaxcala!"


    The long wind blew, lifting the black hair of the Kings and revealing their ambitious, dark eyes. The wind chimes at the top of the Palace of Wind swayed in the wind, ringing with a clear sound, bearing witness.

 Chapter 491 - 241: Submission, Army, and Farewell

    June swiftly passed by a week. Two Kings sat loftily in the Capital of Qinchongcan, with thirty thousand Mexica legions intimidating every direction, and envoys of submissive regions arrived one after another.


    The mountain tribes from the Weytamo copper district presented newly crafted copperware; the Great Nobility from the southwest of Apachigan submitted their declarations of submission; the Tekos Tribe from the edge of the Colima mountain region delivered the daughter of a Noble Chief; and finally, the envoys from the Chapala Lake Region arrived.


    In the grand Palace of Wind, King Aweit adorned in divine attire, holding the inherited Divine Staff, received the audience of the Chapala envoy. The envoy, clad in a gem-embedded feathered long robe with a noble feather crown on his head resembling the spread wings of a mighty eagle, kneeled humbly before the two rulers of the Mexica Alliance.


    "Most High Sun God King, valorous God of Death, bloodline of the Holy Eagle of Prepetcha, ruler of the Chapala Lake Region, Divine Descendant Prince Pengguari, sends greetings to the great Kings through his envoy! Admiring the greatness of the Alliance, revering the martial prowess of the Alliance, he wishes to offer his unparalleled loyalty to the Most High King!"


    "Before I set out, the Prince cut his hair and dripped blood, swearing by the name of his ancestors! He vowed to spill the last drop of the Holy Eagle¡¯s blood for the Most High King, and to guard the northwestern wilderness for the great Alliance for generations. As long as the Prince lives, the fierce Chichimeca Canine Descendants shall never set foot on the soil south of the Lerma River!"


    "The Prince¡¯s loyalty is visible to the divine spirits! He has already imprisoned the former queen of the Tarasco Royal Family. He presents to you gold and silver, gems, feathers, and jade artifacts, along with a beautiful girl from the Feather Family. Among those accompanying me, there are several princes from the former royal family, all of noble blood¡­"


    At this, Xiulote was slightly surprised. The implication of noble blood meant that they could serve as holy sacrifices for the grand celebration.


    "Sun God King, as the ruler of the Chapala Lake Region, the Prince wishes to submit at your feet and battle for your glory! Please grant a noblewoman from the Mexica Royal Family to be the Prince¡¯s new wife¡­"


    At this point, the envoy finally took out a wooden plank of submission from his chest, held it up with both hands, and presented it to the Great Tlatoani of the Mexica Alliance.


    "Most High King, this is the pictorial of the Lake Region¡¯s submission, with the annual tributes listed behind it."


    Aweit extended his hand, and a trusted aide took the pictorial, carefully inspected it, and then handed it to the King. After looking at it for a while, the King smiled gently and passed it to Xiulote.


    "Acceptable! Let submission be converted to faith, and grant him the noble lady. Spring and Autumn tributes cannot be delayed!"


    "Exalted is Your Will!"


    The envoy bowed again, his face tightly pressed against the cold ground, revealing a barely noticeable slight smile.


    Xiulote took the pictorial, glanced at the densely packed Feather Family banners, counted the exaggerated figures of over a dozen warriors and dozens of militia, and shook his head with a smile. He turned to the back and saw drawings of gold, silver, gemstones, jade artifacts, feathers, and robes, and figures with bound hands, yet saw no corn, beans, pumpkins, fish, wood, or stones. The young King then slowly nodded.


    Although forced by circumstances, the Chapala Lake Region had shown submission, but the Alliance still had almost no influence over the area. In fact, both parties clearly understood that today¡¯s submission was merely a superficial ceremony, a bowing under military threat. Once the Alliance¡¯s main forces returned to the East, the land of Chapala would be an independent kingdom.


    "The faith in the Three Gods is deeply rooted in the Lake Region, but it is not without its flaws. Hmm, the militia captured earlier, converted then released¡­"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then revealed a smile as well.


    The audience ceremony ended quickly, and the Chapala envoy respectfully bowed once more, then, guided by the guard, turned and departed. Yet, as he left, he inevitably raised his head and swiftly glanced at the grand murals of the Palace of Wind.


    As the guard and the envoy gradually moved away, the grand hall was once again left with only the two Kings. Aweit removed his heavy crown, opened his elaborate robes, and laughed, saying.


    "Pengguari is not an eagle, but rather a cunning fox. From now on, this fox is yours to deal with."


    "Although the fox is cunning, it is not good at fighting. Faced with the swift Black Wolf, it is merely delicious prey cowering at home."


    Xiulote, full of confidence, smiled and shook his head again.


    "It¡¯s just that, this fox¡¯s den is somewhat too far."


    Both laughed heartily. Their laughter echoed in the grand hall, like the loud cries of an eagle. After a long while, Aweit became serious again.


    "Xiulote, after meeting the Chapala envoy, I will lead the army away tomorrow. On the way back, I will take the Northern Army¡¯s route, swiftly returning by water route.


    I will meet with your father once at the Rivermouth fortress, board the Naval Forces ships of Annatri to return to the East. Then, at the southern bank of Lerma River in Akanbaro State, I will stay for two days, summon and pacify the local submissive nobility, and conduct the glorified nobility division ceremony for Tepopolo.


    Eight thousand warriors, two thousand from the Noble Chief Battle Group, will head north with me. Tepopolo and the remaining fifteen hundred Royal Warriors will also travel with me to the fief. As for Marshal Iskali, he will stay here with five thousand men to guard until the end of the July spring planting when the stability of the Lake Region is confirmed, after which he will commence his journey back to the East, heading to his fief in Xitaqualo State."


    Aweit¡¯s expression had become somewhat serious. A hint of worry was hidden in his eyes.


    "As spring planting begins, the Militia mobilized by the Alliance are gradually dispersing, and the City-State Warriors are eager to return home. The number of troops under your command will significantly decrease, and the support capabilities of the Alliance will also diminish..." S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Xiulote, my student, the first year is the greatest challenge, you must try to establish a firm footing. From today, the four hundred Jaguar Warrior Brigade and over three thousand Royal Warriors at your command are now truly yours! You must distribute lands to them here, let the warriors take root. I will also gradually relocate their families from the Alliance."


    Upon hearing Aweit¡¯s words, Xiulote was emotionally moved and nodded, then performed the gesture of a student.


    "Thank you, Teacher! The legions from the western city-states have already returned East not long ago, the legions supported by the northern Otapan City-State have been dismissed, the Divine Blessing Legion from Xilotepec City will also return, and the surrendered army from Tarasco still needs time for integration... Indeed, I need a trustworthy force to suppress the various territories in the Lake Region!"


    In the recent days, the counting of the legions had been completed. Now, in my hands, there are nearly a thousand trusted aides, over a thousand Temple Guards, over a thousand Longbow Militia, more than two thousand Holy City Legion, over five thousand Long Spear Militia, plus the thousands you¡¯ve left to me, as well as several hundred Canine Descendant Mercenaries, adding up to fifteen thousand Mexica legions.


    "This number of troops, dispersed throughout the territories, can basically maintain the stability of the Fief. As for the thirty thousand Surrendered Army from Tarasco, I have a new resettlement plan..."


    "Oh? This is indeed a fresh plan, having the legion taking up the hoe... I¡¯ve never thought of that... But it can only be implemented among the surrendered soldiers without political status, and it requires the Commander¡¯s sufficient prestige..."


    Aweit looked curious. He listened patiently for a while, his eyes brightened, then he nodded thoughtfully.


    "Not bad! Xiulote, the legions of the Alliance can conquer nations and destroy city-states, but establishing firm rule is far more difficult than conquest... This requires more nuanced and flexible governance skills, gradually controlling the hearts of the people... and food, that is the most important public sentiment, the most fundamental cornerstone of rule!"


    Having said this, Aweit smiled faintly.


    "Xiulote, are you sure you do not need me to leave behind the Great Nobility of the capital? They are very familiar with this land and hold considerable influence, capable of helping you quickly control everything in the Lake Region."


    Xiulote shook his head firmly.


    "No, Aweit, I do not need them. Take them all away!"


    Aweit slowly nodded, displaying a calm smile. The fate of the captured nobility was thus decided. The Mexica King looked at his successor with solemnity.


    "Good. Xiulote, since you do not need me to leave behind the Great Nobility of Tarasco, from now on, the rule over the lands within the lake will be entirely up to you! Remember, governing a nation is like taming a golden eagle, sometimes fierce, sometimes gentle, all depending on the situation, never be impatient!"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then responded seriously with a nod.


    "Yes... to conquer territory with a War Club and Bronze Axe, and then to rule with divinity and food... Aweit, I do not need the Tarasco nobility from the capital, nor do I intend to rely on the old governing system...


    "The power of a King comes from the hearts of the people, and from the people he stands upon! The Patzcuaro Lake Region has been swept clear, it is a brand new blank slate, I want to build a more centralized kingdom here, and with it, create a completely new, strong masterwork!"


    Hearing this, Aweit slightly lowered his eyes and slowly nodded his head. He stepped forward and gave Xiulote a solemn hug, also leaving a parting word.


    "Soar high, my mighty eagle. I will watch you fly from the nest at the peak, and wait for the day you return!"


    The breeze blew, all whispers merged into the wind. The hall then fell silent, only the sound of wind chimes ringing clearly.


    The next morning. The splendid morning sun rose from the eastern horizon, illuminating the majestic bluestone capital and also shining on the splendid Mexica legions outside the eastern gate. Under the reverent gaze of tens of thousands of Alliance warriors, two kings clad in sacred and solemn royal attire, held up the Divine Staff to each other, conducting a silent communion between deities.


    Their silent gaze lasted a long time, until the sky was completely bright and the Sun God ascended the sky. Aweit finally gave Xiulote one last deep look, turned majestically, and departed. The Royal Banner was raised high to the north, followed closely by tens of thousands of warriors. The somber atmosphere spread across the field and gradually disappeared into the horizon¡¯s end.


    Only then did Xiulote let out a gentle sigh. He raised his slightly lowered head, looking invigorated towards the sky. The golden light bathed the land, with an eagle soaring at the zenith!


    "Bertade, fully supervise the spring planting affairs! Send out trusted aide messengers, see how the Surrendered Army is doing! After a while, I shall personally inspect the fields. Spring planting is currently the top priority!... Starting today, whether warriors or Militia, everyone must give their all to the spring planting!"


    "Kuluka, gather the Scouts and long-distance merchants, and report back to me in detail about the situation in the Fief!"


    The young King commanded sharply, the generals and trusted aides saluted in turn. Centered on the capital, countless Messengers scrambled in all directions, heading to every corner of the Patzcuaro Lake Region. As they raced along, they implemented the King¡¯s will across this reborn land!

 Chapter 492 - 242: Spring Plowing, Military Farming, and Fields

    The wind of June was relentless, driving layers of cloud and mist as it rose from the Great Lake in the Gulf of Mexico. After half a month¡¯s journey, it finally arrived above the fields of the Patzcuaro Lake region, bringing with it the first rain of the rain season.


    The sound of rain dropped steadily, a light drizzle fell from the sky, scattering onto the half-barren land of the Patzcuaro Lake region, softening the soil, making it more suitable for the farming tools. The fine rain danced in the air, moistening the endlessly cultivated fields, and dampening the heads of the busy young men.


    The weather in June had already become hot, and thousands of young men worked collectively in the fields, like a bustling colony of ants, creating a rather spectacular scene from a distance. Most of the young men were bare-chested, wearing just a loincloth around their waists, carrying a bamboo basket on their back, and wielding a digger in their hands, maintaining their vigorous work. The fields under their feet were simply marked with sticks, divided into clear strips, each man having a set length to complete.


    Old Militiaman Chiwaco used both hands to forcefully jab the digger into the field, then twisted it to create a hole finger-deep. Next, he took a few corn seeds from the bamboo basket on his back, carefully placing them into the dug hole, and then used his foot to gather the ash from burnt weeds around, roughly filling the hole¡ªa planting spot was thus completed.


    Then, the old militiaman stepped forward about half a meter and dug another hole. He had been doing this kind of farming work for over a decade and was extremely familiar with it. Picking it up again now, he felt a heartfelt fondness and tranquility.


    The gentle rain caressed, and a light breeze lingered, and half a day passed swiftly. The old militiaman had continuously worked over a hundred steps before finally straightening his back, leisurely sighing. He looked up at the cloudy sky, wiped the rain and sweat off his face with his hand, and shook his hands vigorously. Then, he turned his head to look back at Weizti, who was lagging behind.


    "Dumb log, pick up the pace! It¡¯s getting darker over the horizon, and the rain is likely to get heavier. Let¡¯s finish up today¡¯s work and rest under the shed together."


    "Um, okay."


    Weizti, wrapped in a headscarf, glanced at his uncle. Despite his small frame, he worked much faster than his younger counterpart in the fields. He responded dully and continued to dig with the stone knife tip of his digger. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "This scene, it¡¯s so bustling! Just like a huge swarm of bees."


    The old militiaman, resting his feet, surveyed the surroundings. He first saw the crowd of busy young men and clicked his tongue in admiration. Then, tilting his head, he looked at the long strip of land he had cultivated.


    This type of narrow strip had recently been designated by the Great Master, called "mou;" it was further dictated that a step to the left and right counts as one "step." Each mou is 240 steps long and one step wide, marked beforehand by the Great Master¡¯s men with wooden sticks, and each mou spaced half a step apart. The young men just need to keep their heads down and work in a straight line. The planting of each mou remained the same as before: first corn, then beans, and finally squash.


    Chiwaco was an old farmer. He stretched out both hands, carefully calculated for quite a while, and roughly figured it out. In a normal year, on regular land, the yield of one mou would be around eighty or so pounds, mainly of corn, with beans as a secondary crop, and squash as an addition, with squash leaves also being edible as vegetables. The spacing for planting corn had to be large enough to ensure each plant had space; otherwise, they wouldn¡¯t develop ears.


    Overall, the yield of a field fluctuated with the soil and was also related to precipitation, fertilizer, light, and heat. On the fertile lands near the lake, the yield would notably increase by twenty percent, whereas on the poor soils of the mountain areas, it would decrease by twenty percent. The tropical region didn¡¯t lack sunlight or heat, so generally, the biggest limitation was precipitation.


    In terms of precipitation, the Patzcuaro Lake region was a highland valley, similar to the Sichuan Basin, and had an annual rainfall similar to the Lake Texcoco region, ranging from 1000-1500 millimeters. The mountain ranges on both sides contributed to streams that converged here, so agricultural production was not lacking in water, but the distribution of rainfall was uneven, posing the danger of seasonal flooding.


    The climate here was of the tropical grassland type, with an average annual temperature in the twenties, distinctly divided into dry and wet seasons. During the peak of the rainy season in August and September, the area of Lake Patzcuaro would visibly expand, so planting near the lake required extra caution, either by constructing slightly elevated fields or, like the Mexica, building floating gardens on the water.


    As for the fertility of the fields, in this era lacking iron farming tools and large domestic animals, and thus unable to plow deeply, it was only possible through natural fertilizers and the practices of fallowing and slash-and-burn. The large spacing required for planting corn, along with the use of beans for nitrogen-fixation, was to maintain an adequate supply of nutrients.


    "Hmm, the yield from four mou of land, over three hundred pounds of grain along with field vegetables, just enough to sustain a young man for a year. Is this what the Great Master was talking about, ¡¯one stone¡¯?"


    At this thought, Chiwaco lifted his head and counted the long strips he needed to complete, which just happened to number ten. The old militiaman let out a deep breath. He murmured a complaint, but his face showed a smile.


    "That¡¯s tough, one young man farming ten mou! When it comes to harvest time, he¡¯s likely to be as exhausted as a fish out of water, collapsed on the shore. But oh, I really look forward to seeing that harvest scene!"


    "Uncle, I¡¯m done. This work is more exhausting than what we used to do in the village, let¡¯s take a break!"

 Chapter 493 - 242: Spring Plowing, Military Farming, and Fields_2

    Weizti finally caught up with the progress. Panting, he dragged Chiwaco to the pavilion between the fields. The neatly organized fields were clearly demarcated, with a large thatched pavilion every some distance. Inside the pavilion, there were several large barrels and a corner piled with farming tools and seeds, with a simple altar for the Chief Divine in the center. It was raining today, and the sun wasn¡¯t too fierce. Once the rain stopped, it would be impossible to work under the midday sun; they would have to rest in the shade.


    As the two approached, they could see two Mexica samurai sitting cross-legged on the ground chatting idly in the pavilion. The weather was indeed hot, so they were not wearing armor, just holding war clubs, with sharp bone whistles hanging around their necks. These two samurai were supervisors of this area of fields. They were responsible for overseeing the work of the men, guarding the Chief Divine altar, and also looking after the farming tools, water buckets, and seeds in the pavilion.


    "You..."


    Seeing someone approaching to rest, one of the young samurai looked up and was about to scold them. However, the older samurai quickly stopped him, pulling his arm.


    "Let them rest... They¡¯ve made great achievements, seen His Highness... Supposedly, they¡¯re to be ennobled as nobility!" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The young samurai swallowed the rest of his words. He gave a couple of looks and then turned his head away, muttering resentfully under his breath.


    "Just some Prepetcha militia who betrayed their old master, with no exceptional martial arts, and yet they¡¯re to be ennobled as nobility of the Alliance, standing above us!... Ah, His Highness said he would distribute lands as rewards to us, so why is there still no movement? Instead, we samurais are tasked with watching over these mundane field chores."


    "When has His Highness ever made a mistake? No matter the background, whether one is a traitor or not, rewarding contributions is His Highness¡¯s constant practice... Recently, hasn¡¯t His Highness already handed down rewards of gold and silver cloth, promoted our samurai ranks? Now with a shortage of laborers, if we were indeed given fields, would you farm them yourself?... We just need to follow His Highness¡¯s orders!"


    "His Highness is, of course, never wrong. It¡¯s just that gambling is forbidden in the military, there¡¯s not much fun in the city, and even women are drafted to work... These gold and silver coins are of little use in our hands!... As samurais of the Alliance, we must seek our prospects on the battlefield. As long as we collect enough captives and severed heads, make enough merits, we can eventually become nobility by military service!... What kind of future can one have by sticking around in the fields."


    Upon hearing this, the older samurai also sighed. His eyes showed a longing for battle, like a wolf with hidden fangs, enduring in silence, yet he continued to pacify his companion.


    "Keeping gold and silver in hand, even if it can¡¯t be spent here, can be used in the markets of the Alliance¡¯s hinterland. When our families relocate from the hinterland of the Alliance, we all need to establish our foundations here. Building residences, acquiring herbs, purchasing slaves; each requires a significant amount of wealth..."


    "As for making merits, following His Highness, do you fear not having opportunities to earn them? After fighting this campaign in the west, everyone is quite exhausted, deserving some rest. Once the autumn harvest is complete, we can go out to conquer again and capture more laborers and food!"


    The young samurai nodded, his face showing an expectant smile. By this time, Chiwaco and Weizti had already entered the pavilion. The Mexica samurai greeted them briefly, then fell silent, stopping their conversation.


    Chiwaco¡¯s old face smiled in return. Then, he went to the barrel, scooped out some water with a wooden ladle, and drank directly from it. The ice-cold water flowed down his throat, dispelling the heat from his body and even carried a bit of sweetness and saltiness.


    This water was fetched by laborers from a nearby deep well, stored in wooden barrels, and transported here in the morning by a new type of wheeled cart. The Great Master had ordered that no one should drink lake water during the rainy season at will; everyone must drink well water or clean stream water. The Alliance never lacked salt, with large salt fields near the Capital City, so the Great Master had ordered laborers to add salt to the water to better sustain the workers¡¯ strength.


    As for that type of wheeled cart, an old militiaman had also curiously inspected it closely. This type of single-wheel cart could move freely on the muddy plains of the Lake Region, but it was uncertain in the forest with intertwined tree roots. The cart had two wooden handles, a flat box for carrying loads, and a large wheel below. The center of the large wheel was hollow, supported by evenly cut wooden rods and secured by two rings of shiny bronze nails... Anyway, it looked time-consuming and labour-intensive, definitely requiring bronze tools to make; it was also expensive, seemingly something used by the Lords.


    Beside the old militiaman, Weizti took a few quick sips of water and then went to the center of the pavilion to the altar. The altar was piled up with wooden and stone blocks, displaying the Mexica Chief Divine¡¯s sun emblem, surrounded by rings of dried grains, mainly corn kernels, bean pods, and pumpkin seeds.


    Weizti bowed his head, silently praying in his heart, reciting the name of the Chief Divine, praying for this year¡¯s harvest.


    Normally during spring plowing, the village priests would lead everyone in praying to the God of Harvest. Now that the Alliance managed everything, Mexica priests also toured to perform ceremonies. It was said that the Chief Divine was very powerful, capable of taking care of everything, including the harvest... it was somewhat doubtful, but praying seemed better than not, so let¡¯s see what this autumn¡¯s yield would be like.


    The two rested for a quarter hour, then continued back to their work in the fields, busy until dinner time. By then, the rain had slightly eased, and the clouds had thinned somewhat. The sun hid behind the clouds, staining the dark edges of the clouds with a stunning red glow, emanating an inexplicable charm.

 Chapter 494 - 242: Spring Plowing, Military Farming, and Fields_3

    This day was a non-stop grind, and they only managed to cultivate just over an acre. Ten acres would require five or six more days of toil.


    Chiwaco wiped his sweat and picked up the tip of the digging stick. In less than two days, the stone blade had worn down significantly, needing a replacement midway. Fortunately, it was said that the Great Master had made arrangements early, and the craftsmen in the city were forging spare farming tools using bronze, continually supplying them to the able-bodied men cultivating outside the city.


    The old Militia had used bronze Long Spears and knew that this metal was quite durable. However, production was scarce and the cost was high, so they were always prioritized for tools and weapons. As for bronze farming tools, they couldn¡¯t count on them just yet.


    In reality, digging holes for planting was not too bad. There was no need to plow, and stone digging sticks worked just as well. The real exertion came during harvest with the sickles; having sharp sickles could save a lot of effort. And when it came to sharpness, the Alliance¡¯s Obsidian blades were the sharpest, even faster than ordinary bronze blades. However, the sources of Obsidian Stone were limited, it wore out quickly, and the cost was also very high.


    The old Militia walked leisurely along the ridges, mind wandering aimlessly as he looked towards the horizon. The able-bodied men around him finished their work one by one, forming groups on the way back. They chatted about the day¡¯s meals, causing a commotion over the fields. Now and then, someone greeted Chiwaco with a bow, and the old Militia smiled back.


    The Mexica Samurai maintained the order of the ranks as they returned together, leaving only a duty-bound worker in the pavilion. This worker had to sleep in the fields overnight to guard them. If any agricultural tools were lost or the altars damaged, it would result in severe punishments including hair cutting, whipping, or even beheading.


    Such tedious tasks of course wouldn¡¯t fall to Chiwaco. He was now a Camp Commander in the fortification army, commanding a Militia brigade of two hundred men. Yes, the able-bodied men were all part of the Tarasco Surrendered Army, now arranged by the Great Master to engage in collective farming. They were organized in the form of an army, lived in communal camps, had to get up on time every day for prayer, breakfast, farm work until evening, followed by another prayer, dinner, and then rest back in their tents.


    This life was essentially farming in military style and feeding themselves, with surplus food serving as military provisions for campaigns. The number of Surrendered Army personnel was calculated in the tens of thousands, now scattered in units of a thousand men each, divided into thirty fortified camps. Each camp¡¯s officers were composed of Mexica Samurai, Mexica Militia, honored Tarasco Surrendered Generals, or earlier Tarasco Surrendered Soldiers.


    Puap now led one of these thousand-man camps, and most of his old comrades were also leaders of two-hundred-man squads, except for Weizti who had given up his squad leader position to quietly follow the old Militia.


    The crowds gathered at the end of the fields and then roughly split according to different battalions, noisily heading back to the camp. The squad leaders shouted loudly, the able-bodied men marched amidst the shouting and chaos, maintaining basic order with difficulty.


    The old Militia led his own battalion, cajoling like he was leading a flock of turkeys. After several days of collective labor, these able-bodied men had started to follow basic rules. At least they wouldn¡¯t stop halfway, urinate on the spot, or chase wild rabbits in the bushes. This might also be due to the effect of the Mexica Samurai¡¯s whips.


    At the very front of the column, Puap marched with a stern face, leading the fortified camp. Finally having become a hereditary Great Nobility, he still had to lead his subordinates in this strenuous fieldwork. Huitu Puap was now full of complaints, but didn¡¯t dare show it, as this task was a strict mandate from the Prince and highly valued.


    A few days ago, when spring plowing began, the Prince even went down to the fields himself, leading a group of high-ranking Commanders and generals, each planting just over an acre. A Legion Commander, who was particularly good at farming, even managed to plant two acres in the same amount of time. Since the Prince and the Commanders had personally set an example, the officers at all levels naturally did not dare to slack off, at least until this wave of enthusiasm passed.


    Huitu Puap thought about the good days after this wave would pass, and a smile slowly spread across his face, but he was met by a group of neatly arranged fortified army troops coming his way.


    Seeing the march of the opposite army, Puap¡¯s countenance became serious. After a brief assessment, he identified that this was a purely Samurai-involved thousand-man camp. Among the thirty fortification camps, about five such Samurai camps existed, all consisting of surrendering Tarasco Samurai from previous battles. The troops in front of him were particularly disciplined, led by the young Family Head of the "Sky," Oorta.


    Oorta¡¯s face was also grim, like a creditor coming to collect debts. His followers were his own family¡¯s Samurai, who arrogantly claimed unity and cohesiveness. The Prince hadn¡¯t split and reassembled them.


    In the last two days, terrifying news had come from the northwest: the two-hundred-year-old Sky family had been completely eradicated by the Feathers Prince, vanishing into thin air in the Chapala Lake Region. The Prince had personally summoned the Sky Family Head, kindly soothing him and even promised a Mexica noblewoman in marriage, allowing the Sky family to establish its roots in the Alliance.


    In the face of the Prince¡¯s consolation, Oorta responded gratefully, yet his face could not show a smile. A deep hatred accumulated in his heart, constantly craving for revenge and battle, looking forward to the day when he could campaign against Chapala.


    Under their Commanders¡¯ lead, the two fortified camps gradually approached each other. Puap measured for a moment, then stopped his steps, signaling for the Sky Samurai to pass first. Oorta proudly nodded and moved on, only to recall something after a few steps and turned back to face the Huitu warriors.


    "Huitu Puap?"


    "Respected Sky Family Head." Puap¡¯s expression changed, but he first bowed his head in greeting.


    As an aristocratic-born, Oorta then bowed in return. He forced a stiff smile, looking at the newly established nobleman before him.


    "Huitu Noble, there¡¯s a favor I must ask of you, please do not refuse."


    "Speak." S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The Prince has ordered us to fortify our lands, and each man in the camp must complete ten acres, a total of ten thousand acres for a thousand-man camp."


    "Indeed,"


    "My camp is composed of Samurai, not skilled in farming chores. Could you possibly send some seasoned farmers among your able-bodied men to assist us somewhat?"


    Puap paused for a moment before nodding with a smile in agreement.


    "No problem, it¡¯s only natural."


    "Good!"

 Chapter 495 - 243: The Roots of Dominion, Directly Governed Villages

    The July rains fell softly, so warm and unhurried. A fine mist moistened everything: lush plants flourished in the mountains, birds chirped joyfully in the forests, and new sprouts dotted the fields with green¡ªall bustled with the vitality of early summer.


    Xiulote, draped in his thatched raincoat, stood quietly in the rain by the shore of Lake Patzcuaro.


    He looked up at the overcast sky. The pitter-patter of raindrops formed intermittent lines, drifting onto the cloud-enshrouded mountains and then flowing down to form streams in the valleys. He turned his gaze toward the stream at the base of the mountain. The clear brook flowed gently, nourishing the burgeoning shrubs along its path and the freshly tilled farmland.


    The young King¡¯s eyes moved across the orderly fields before finally settling on the village by the lakeshore.


    "Let¡¯s go, let¡¯s take a look over there."


    Xiulote commanded in a deep tone. Bertade nodded and hurried off with a few dozen trusted aides to inspect the village first. Meanwhile, over a hundred Samurai, cloaked in capes and wielding shields and axes, stood guard beside His Highness.


    "Be careful not to step on the new sprouts!"


    Xiulote ordered loudly before slowly crossing the ridges between fields. He bowed his head to observe the cultivated acres on both sides, carefully inspecting the new sprouts and estimating the timing of the planting.


    Once corn seeds are sown, they absorb water and germinate within a week, given appropriate soil temperature and moisture conditions. The germinating sprouts first send out roots, spreading three or four primary roots deep into the surrounding soil, and then reach upwards with their shoots.


    Thinking this, Xiulote squatted down, carefully measuring with his fingers. He then grabbed some sandy loam from the field, feeling its texture and viscosity, and nodded in approval.


    At this stage, the corn sprouts had just begun to emerge, about the length of a little finger, with the first pair of cotyledons yet to unfold, still encased in a tubular shape. The gathering rainwater flowed through the fields, past the young corn sprouts, causing them to lean slightly.


    "The seeds have only germinated for a week... which means planting was completed two weeks ago... just before the heavy rains. Good enough!"


    Xiulote gazed at the tender sprouts, lost in thought. If they were to grow for another week, the roots would firmly anchor into the soil, and the cotyledons would open into a heart-shaped leaf form. Only then would the corn sprouts be fully developed and less likely to be damaged by heavy rains... But when too much water penetrated the soil, it would decrease the oxygen, damaging the crops¡¯ roots. This also required deeper and longer roots to overcome...


    All in all, farming activities needed to align with rain and temperature. This year¡¯s spring farming was indeed a bit late... Fortunately, on his way here, it seemed that the settlements around the Capital City, both military and civilian, had roughly completed their cultivation tasks, which should not affect the autumn harvest.


    As Xiulote pondered, Bertade quickly returned from the village and stood by silently. Looking up, the Head Warrior gave a serious nod. The young King then rose, brushed the sandy loam from his hands, and strode toward the village.


    The village chief, Priest, and villagers were already waiting at the entrance to the village, forming a dense crowd, surrounded by dozens of supervising trusted aides and accompanied by a Translator. The Tarasco language and Mexica language are not much different, with many similar words and pronunciations. Even without a Translator, Xiulote could roughly communicate with the people of Prepetcha.


    Seeing the distinguished His Highness approach, everyone simultaneously bowed down in salute. Xiulote, with a calm expression, nodded and gestured with his hand, signaling the Priest, village chief, and Militia Captain to rise and speak.


    This was one of over eighty villages in the Patzcuaro Lake region, located on the North Coast of the Great Lake. The village was large and used to be populous and prosperous. However, last year, the village suffered multiple levies by the Tarasco Kingdom and was later harassed by a defeated army, leaving it severely damaged.


    After the capture of the Qinchongcan Capital, Xiulote accounted for 60,000 civilians in the city, nearly half of whom were refugees from the countryside. The young King organized these 30,000 people, together with the over 100,000 vulnerable populations around the Capital, into villages around the Lake Region. He then directly appointed Priests to manage them, establishing them as communities directly under his jurisdiction. Each community village had a sizeable population of around 2,000 inhabitants, totaling approximately 80 communities with about 160,000 people.


    Community management was a Mexica tradition, which was the backbone of the Alliance¡¯s strong ability to mobilize. The essence of community cultivation was structured household registration, rigorous oversight of farming, and command of agricultural activities. However, Xiulote lacked reliable grassroots administration and low-level Priests proficient in accounting. Therefore, the organization of the communities had just begun and remained at a very rudimentary stage.


    The young King had simply dispatched newly trained, low-level Priests to various community villages, selected local chiefs, and supported them with stationed Militias, barely managing to control the 150,000 to 160,000 rural people surrounding the lake. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Therefore, in the community village before him, the highest authority was the village Priest directly under His Highness, who could communicate with superior Priests, oversee religious activities, tax collection, and the proclamation of edicts; next was the locally selected village chief, usually from a family with many mouths to feed, who practically managed agricultural production, coordinated village affairs, and inspected communal storage; lastly, the appointed or selected Militia Captain, holding the village¡¯s military power, maintained the safety of the village, guarding the warehouse, and dispatched tribute teams on schedule. Of course, in an Alliance that revered military strength, the political status of the village chief and Militia Captain was actually roughly equal.

 Chapter 496 - 243: The Roots of Rule, Directly Governed Village_2

    Under such grassroots construction, the old nobility¡¯s influence, along with their bodies, were completely erased by the devastating national war. New civilian administrators were able to emerge and become the managers of the village, striving to implement the will from the power center... meaning, the degree of centralization had further increased.


    Seeing the sign from His Highness, the three power-holders in the village once again bowed respectfully, and then carefully stood up. The village Priest softly called out, and two young girls came forward, heads lowered, to offer fresh wreaths to His Highness.


    Xiulote smiled slightly and tilted his head. The Head Warrior then took the wreath and handed it to the Escort beside him. Next, the young King gazed solemnly at the middle-aged Priest.


    "Take me to see the village¡¯s altar. How is the spring cultivation sacrificial rite? Are the dawn and dusk prayers completed on time? Have the Alliance¡¯s religious laws been recited?"


    The middle-aged Priest, half-bowing yet displaying a hint of a Warrior¡¯s demeanor, came from the Alliance. He had undergone five years of military training in his youth and was also skilled in combat. Fluent in both Tarasco and Mexica, he was at the far end of the great tree of the Alliance¡¯s rule.


    "Respected Priest-King, the spring cultivation rites were grand. According to the latest directives of the High Priesthood, the Chief Divine has replaced the God of Harvest, without erecting statues, only leaving an Emblem... Prayers are held communal in the morning and evening, and although the villagers were somewhat confused, they are now gradually getting on the right track... The busy farming season just ended, and I¡¯ve just finished reciting the merits of military promotion by the Alliance, encouraging cultivation and fertility... Your Majesty, the altar is here."


    As they spoke, they arrived at the center of the village. There stood a stone and wood altar, two meters in height, with a large wooden Emblem of the Sun Hummingbird atop, nearly four meters in total height. Around the altar lay various grains, as well as some sacrificial feathers, birds, and small beasts.


    Xiulote watched for a moment, his face revealing a slight smile. With religion at the core of the Alliance¡¯s rule, the altar was crucial to both divine right and public opinion.


    "The Chief Divine is bright and merciful... preservation of manpower should be maximized; sacrifice birds and beasts... even in major festivals, do not sacrifice humans."


    The young King commanded solemnly, the middle-aged Priest blinked and nodded seriously. Then, Xiulote turned to the village chief who followed him.


    "How well was the village¡¯s spring plowing done? Was the required acreage achieved? How was the collection of manure? How is the village¡¯s granary construction?... Everyone in the village must participate in labor, and you are no exception!" S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The elderly village chief nodded repeatedly, his face¡¯s wrinkles blooming like a flower. He replied lowly and respectfully.


    "Yes, yes! Your Highness, I have personally led everyone in cultivation, not resting for a moment. The village¡¯s spring plowing was completed three weeks ago, without delaying the farming time!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote frowned slightly, but said nothing. He simply glanced lightly at the old village chief. The latter shuddered slightly and continued.


    "As per your instructions, the able-bodied men in the village need to cultivate eight acres, adult women six acres, and the elderly and frail four acres. Additionally, a few craftsmen were specially arranged to repair damaged farming tools... Outside the village, a pit was dug to collect manure, which is also used as a communal toilet. Everything is guided by the Priest, and we are also making compost... The village¡¯s granary is somewhat damaged, being filled with earth and stone, and will soon be repaired."


    The old village chief led Xiulote to the front of the granary. This was a robust brick and stone building, usually the most important building in a village. Due to the lack of metal farming tools and plowing animals, villages in Central America mostly still maintained a collective village system, somewhat similar to the well-field system of the West Zhou dynasty. The villagers needed to work collectively, then centralize most of the harvest into a public granary for storage during barren years, and subsequently, the village administrator was responsible for the allocation of granary food, paying the Lord¡¯s tribute, and arranging villagers¡¯ labor.


    Under Bertade¡¯s escort, Xiulote entered the granary. He looked at the corners of the room smeared with mud and the rainwater seeping into the warehouse, then touched the slightly damp clay floor, and slowly shook his head.


    "This won¡¯t do! The granary must be waterproof, and the foundation needs to be paved with brick and stone!"


    Xiulote pondered for a while. He looked at the frightened old village chief and reassured him.


    "This is not your fault. I will soon build a large kiln around the Capital City for firing building bricks. When that happens, you can send someone directly there to get bricks for repairing the granary... But, these bricks must be used on the granary, and the granary must be completely waterproof! Otherwise..."


    Hearing this, the old village chief immediately prostrated himself, repeatedly assenting. Xiulote nodded, then strode out of the granary. Next, he beckoned and walked away with a hint of a smile on his face.


    "Come here. Are you a militia under Ezpan¡¯s command? How are things going here?"


    The Militia Captain set down his spear, approached Xiulote empty-handed, and then dropped to his knees with a thud to pay his respects.


    "Your Highness, I pay my respects to you! Yes, I am a militia under Captain Ezpan¡¯s command. The captain often says that you are our only sun!"


    "I am doing well here! I married a local wife, raised a flock of turkeys, and even got a large house... Oh, about the village... Now I have five militiamen who followed me here, and another twenty local able-bodied men recruited to protect the whole village... When harvest time comes this year, I will lead them to deliver the tribute to the capital city!..."


    Xiulote listened patiently and nodded slightly. A village of two thousand people, with five seasoned militiamen and twenty ordinary militiamen, along with the authority of the priesthood and the village leader, could almost maintain basic order and catch sporadic bandits. After all, this was the heart of the Lake Region, not the borderland ravaged by the Canine Descendants. The village¡¯s militiamen could take an extra ration from the storage to sustain several training sessions a month.


    "Very good!"


    After hearing the Militia Captain¡¯s story, Xiulote smiled and nodded. He raised his hand to take a red cloak from a trusted aide, and personally handed it to the Militia Captain. The captain, somewhat excited, draped the cloak over himself and then knelt to pay his respects.


    "Your Highness... Marshal! When will the legion march again? I want to fight valiantly for you and also to rise as a respected senior samurai!"


    At these words, Xiulote¡¯s eyes twinkled with amusement and admiration. He stepped forward, kindly patted the Militia Captain¡¯s shoulder, and spoke with a smile.


    "There¡¯s no need to rush, just patiently root down in the village and maintain good order in the community. You are the cornerstone of the Alliance... There will be many opportunities to go on expeditions later..."


    Afterward, Xiulote continued his tour around the village. He stood outside, looking at the villagers¡¯ humble and cramped thatched houses and peered inside through the doorways. The expression of the young king grew serious; the limitations of the era restricted the development of productivity, leaving the lives of ordinary people merely to struggle for existence.


    The young king issued no further orders but only stood in front of the altar for a while, then gazed at the wooden emblem of the Sun Hummingbird. The towering hummingbird spread its wings, flying toward the hopeful sun. Then, under the escort of his aides, Xiulote turned and left, not stopping until he disappeared at the end of the fields. Only then did the prostrate villagers rise, their faces showing divine-like reverence.


    Rumors had already begun to spread unconsciously around the royal city that the king, embodied as a high priest with the Emerald Divine Staff, foresaw all futures...


    Xiulote returned through the drizzle. He passed through the sturdy city gates, traversed the empty streets of the capital city, and returned to the magnificent Palace of Wind, all the way to the grand hall. Two painters, who had been working, immediately set down their brushes, paid their respects to his Highness, and bowed out.


    The young king briefly surveyed the wall murals, which were being altered. The Prepetcha people, led by the Sun Hummingbird, had come to the fertile lakeside. Then, they joined the powerful and tolerant Mexica Alliance, with their Mexica kin, they built the magnificent Qinchongcan City. The existence of the "House of Wind" pyramid stood as a testament to the Chief Divine descending to the mortal realm, issuing decrees, and completely merging the two clans!


    Then, Xiulote took off his raincoat, wiped off the rainwater, and sat down at a wooden table to examine the latest album.


    Kuluka the Monkey busily helped hang his Highness¡¯s clothes and brought over a cup of honeyed hot cocoa, then sat cross-legged beside him.


    "Monkey, have all the latest scout reports been delivered?"


    "Yes, Your Majesty, they¡¯re all here... Your fief is truly vast!"


    At this, Kuluka took out a large wooden board, carefully handed it to Xiulote. The young king looked at the densely marked board, studied it for a moment, and a satisfied smile finally appeared on his face!

 Chapter 497 - 244: Fief, Farmland and County System

    "From the Rivermouth fortress in the north to the Tarsas River in the south, from the mountains of Xitaqualo in the east to the mountains of Saka in the west... This vast land is my fief!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily, revealing his pearly white teeth. The smile of the young king was handsome, and within that handsomeness lay a touch of solemn majesty. He stretched out his finger, tracing the edges of the atlas, etching the hills and rivers, villages and towns into his mind, as well as comparing them with the memories of his journey to the west.


    "The fief stretches from north to south between two rivers, sandwiching two lakes; from east to west, from mountain range to mountain range. The climate here is of a tropical savanna with clear distinctions between dry and wet seasons, and the terrain is largely flat highland. Between the crisscrossing mountains and rivers, the highland dips to form a natural chain of lakes. Around these lakes rivers converge, forming the Lake Region. The land around the lake is fertile, much like the Bashu Basin; the rivers have well-defined courses, similar to the plains of Guanzhong."


    The young king perused the map, extracting information, while using the memories of his later years to understand and integrate it.


    Administration of the fief required specific data for support; governance must never be based on whimsical guesses. Though the figures estimated from sampling surveys in various places were imprecise, they played an essential role in guidance.


    Xiulote looked over his fief, first estimating its specific area.


    "At this time, the fief around the lake in my hands is approximately the size of three states. Roughly one hundred kilometers from east to west, and more than one hundred and fifty kilometers from north to south, covering an area of about 15,000 square kilometers, which is almost one-tenth the size of Henan." S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote¡¯s fingers moved across the map. He touched the blue markers for the lakes, also gauging the green-marked plains around them. These areas were fertile and flat, mostly already cleared for farmland.


    "This land is the essence of the Tarasco Kingdom, with the most prosperous Patzcuaro Lake region at the center, the once densely populated Cuitzeo Lake region to the north, and the trade-rich North Coast of the Tarsas River to the south. In this era, populations always cluster near water sources, relying on rivers and lakes. On this 15,000-square-kilometer land, there once resided a million people, making up sixty percent of the Tarasco Kingdom¡¯s population."


    Thinking of this, the young king scrutinized the map again. Drawing on all the information that had converged, he roughly estimated the agricultural land area of the fief.


    "In this fully cultivated prime area, the arable land area, which has been cleared by slashing and burning is roughly one-quarter to one-third of the fief¡¯s total area, that is, 4,000 to 5,000 square kilometers."


    "Currently, the adult men are not tall, with slightly smaller strides. One step to the left and right makes one stride, with a stride length of about 1.3 meters. One acre is 240 stride-lengths by 1 stride-width, that is, 1.3*1.3*240... Hmm, 405 square meters. Therefore, ten thousand square kilometers is about twenty-five million acres, just under. The number of acres of cultivated land in my fief is between ten to twelve million acres!"


    Xiulote paused for a moment, rapidly calculating with a charcoal pencil in his hand. Kuluka watched from the side, covertly learning the weird numbers often used by His Highness. Moments later, the young king calculated the acres of the fief¡¯s land. He looked at the numbers at the pencil tip, his spirit invigorated, and he continued to estimate further.


    "Most of the fief practices Milpa agriculture, uses slash-and-burn methods, sows with wide spacing, and crops are intermixed. There is no deep plowing or substantial fertilization. Apart from the fertile land a few miles around the lakes, most agricultural land requires burning and fallowing... Thus, in each farming season, the actual cultivable land is roughly... slightly over five million acres!"


    After calculation, Xiulote pondered for a while. He was always diligent in matters of field cultivation, accustomed to personally inspecting the fields and often gathering old farmers to inquire.


    The current density of farming is low, corn breeding has not reached the peaks of later generations, and with beans and squash, the yield per acre of Milpa is about eighty pounds or more. Because corn¡¯s nutritional value is somewhat low, the yield from four acres is needed to sustain an adult male for a year. For this unit, Xiulote referred to the data from the Neon Warring States period, and defined it as one "shi," which is about 320-350 pounds of grain.


    "My fief has over five million acres of farmland. If there is sufficient labor to cultivate it, at the current level of technology, the annual yield is roughly 1.3 million shi. In other words, hmm, I am also a lord of a million shi!"


    The idea unexpectedly popped into the young king¡¯s mind. He couldn¡¯t help smiling. This time he had put great effort into planning, redrawing the agricultural system, dividing steps, acres, shi. Then, relying on these data, he organized military and civilian settlements, naturally with grand ambitions, thinking of establishing foundational laws for the fief!


    Without iron farming tools or large draft animals, a farmer¡¯s ability to cultivate is greatly limited. In the Celestial Empire, where cultivation is meticulous with only human labor, a strong farmer could at most manage five acres. Iron implements can reduce physical exertion and allow for deeper plowing. Oxen and horses can at least double or triple this figure.


    Thus, in early Tang, twenty acres per adult male were considered the limit for effective cultivation. With iron implements and oxen, twenty acres in the northern plains with one harvest per year; and for southern rice paddies with two harvests per year, ten acres per person.


    In Xiulote¡¯s fief, the size of an acre is roughly the same as those in the Celestial Empire, just slightly smaller. The planting density of the crops, however, is only one-third to one-half that of the Celestial Empire farmers. Due to the diversity of crops, the busy farming time is extended by about twice.


    Accordingly, the maximum farming area for a strong adult is around eight to ten acres. The normal annual harvest is between two to two and a half shi, enough to support two adult males, or to support one while the rest acts as tribute and reserves for lean years.

 Chapter 498 - 244: Fief, Farmland and County System_2

    It was precisely by relying on these data that Xiulote was able to outline the details of military and civilian settlements and roughly plan future tax levels, envisioning the direction of further reforms.


    Military settlements would farm 10 acres per able-bodied man and contribute 2.5 dan of grain, with the surplus provided to the troops. Civilian settlements would farm 8 acres per able-bodied man and contribute 2 dan, half for self-sustenance, and the remaining three-fifths as tribute, two-fifths as village savings¡ªtaxes were around 30 percent. Adult women were to till 6 acres and contribute 1.5 dan; the elderly and infirm would farm 4 acres and contribute 1 dan, calculated in the same manner. Including corv¨¦e labor during agricultural downtime, the future level of taxation in the fief would be equivalent to that of the Qin Dynasty after its centralizing reforms.


    "Encourage farming, construct water conservancy projects; register households uniformly, reward childbirth; develop metal farming tools, and assign land according to military merit... The fief¡¯s land would support ten people with every twenty dan of grain, and three able-bodied men were required from every ten people. In times of war, one of these three would be conscripted, so six thousand soldiers would be mobilized for every one million two hundred thousand dan of grain..."


    A multitude of thoughts flashed through the young king¡¯s mind, eventually settling into a smile on his lips. Learning from Shang Yang¡¯s reforms, imitating the Qin Dynasty¡¯s agricultural and military system, was the direction he intended for his future governance. However, details still needed to be clarified. He continued to ponder over the map, considering the current population of his fief.


    "The northernmost part of the fief is bordered by the Lerma River, with the Rivermouth Fortress at its center, and a few dozen miles to the southwest is Lake Cuitzeo. This is also where the Alliance¡¯s naval forces are moored. Kuluka, have you been to the Rivermouth Fortress to see my father?"


    Upon hearing this, Kuluka nodded and proceeded to give a detailed report.


    "Your Majesty, I have visited the Deputy Marshal. He oversees the Rivermouth, having refurbished the fortress anew, and has arranged the logistics very adequately. The wounded have also been treated, and the recovered samurai are beginning to rejoin the legion. The collapsing forces in the vicinity have been reorganized or eradicated, and the towns and villages maintain order and compliance. The farmers have completed the spring plowing on schedule. However, there is a severe shortage of priests there; after the nobility were purged, most villages are managed by the elders themselves."


    "The land around Lake Cuitzeo is replete with water and fertile. Within a few dozen miles of the lake, numerous villages are densely spread, once aggregating a population of two to three hundred thousand. There are millions of acres of cultivated farmland, all free of tree roots and stones."


    Hearing this, Xiulote nodded. He stood up, paced back and forth in the hall with his hands behind his back, lost in thought.


    The area around Lake Cuitzeo in the north of the fief originally had over forty large villages and market towns, teeming with people and rich in products. However, the north had been ravaged by war, with the kingdom frequently conscripting troops, and the towns had suffered the most destruction. Now, with the northeastern area of Akanbaro State having been partitioned away to become Tepopolo¡¯s fief, the entire north needed to be reorganized. Determining the fief¡¯s administration was the first step in the new policy.


    After much deliberation, the young king made a decision.


    "Monkey, take a pen and record this."


    Kuluka nodded in acknowledgment. He took out a fine brush, dipped it in ink, and began to scribble and sketch haphazardly.


    "Redesign the state and county system, demarcate boundaries and population. South of the Lerma River and north of Huayamo Fortress, the northern part of the fief extends 150 miles east-west and over fifty miles north-south, encompassing the entire Lake Cuitzeo area and half of the Saka State¡ªto be set as a ¡¯county.¡¯ The Rivermouth Fortress will serve as the county government, hence called Rivermouth County. It will govern over forty large villages, a population of one hundred thousand, and ten thousand able-bodied men. Quickly register households uniformly and establish civilian settlements!"


    "County?"


    As Kuluka wrote, he drew figures and simplified radical characters. His face then showed confusion. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Majesty, what is a county? How is it different from a state?"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then smiled slightly.


    "Autonomous states and directly subordinate counties!"


    Next, the young king¡¯s gaze moved from the north to the south, settling on the heart of the fiefdom¡ªthe Patzcuaro Lake region and the basin. This was where the most prosperous Capital City lay; it was also the cosmic center in the mythology of the Prepetcha people.


    "The area of a hundred li north to south and two hundred li east to west, with the Huayamo Fortress to the south, the state of Apachigan to the north, the mountain regions and river sources as the Western Domain, and Xitaqualo as the Eastern Domain, is designated as the Capital Region, centered on Qinchongcan Capital. It governs one hundred villages and towns, with over two hundred thousand people including about seventy thousand able-bodied men and surrendered army. Among them, fifty thousand are allocated for military settlements and one hundred fifty thousand for civilian settlements, with about thirty thousand residents in the Capital City itself."


    By July, the two thousand of the surrendered army promised by Aweit had already arrived in the heartland of the Lake Region not long before. They had endured the rainy season on their journey, suffering from food shortages for months since their surrender, looking gaunt and haggard. Now, these militia turned surrendered army had missed this year¡¯s spring plowing, and their bodies needed recuperation.


    Xiulote just dispatched officers and Priests to organize the newly arrived surrendered army on the one hand, and on the other hand, to have the Priests convert and teach them faith. These able-bodied men would be able to participate in the autumn harvest. The young king had another plan in his mind, one that awaited inspection.


    "Designate the area from the copper mines a few dozen li south of Ihuatzio City as the Northern Domain, the Tarsas River as the Southern Domain, east to the mountains of Xitaqualo, west to the first north-to-south river, with a hundred li from north to south and over a hundred li from east to west, with Kulamo City at the center of the entire Apachigan state, as Kulamo County, same as Zicao County. It governs nearly a hundred villages and towns, with two hundred thousand people, including forty thousand able-bodied men. Hmm, quickly investigate the local Nobility¡¯s fiefs to implement the next step in the plan!"


    The area of the Apachigan state was vast and could roughly be divided into three parts according to its features. To the slightly northern part, there were several shallow copper mines; the southern part boasted a lot of exposed Gold and Silver mines. In fact, deep within these veins were branches of copper mines where Gold, Silver, and copper coexisted. Towards the extreme south near the Tarsas River, which runs through half the world, there were many towns thriving on riverside trade¡ªa land rich in mining resources and commercial prosperity!


    Kulamo City is located in the very south of the Apachigan state, slightly to the west, a large city by the river. The first great river of the southern central part of the world, the Tarsus River, expands here, forming a broad lake basin and connecting to the edges of the Colima Mountain Region. This large city is a famous trading hub; merchants from Mistec, Zapotecs, Tepanec, Tekos, and other groups all gather here, together making it one of the most developed cities in the southern region.


    The advance force of Iskali had landed in the southeast of Apachigan and had not passed through Kulamo City. Thus, the city was spared during the war but also retained its traditional Nobility rule.


    In the Prepetcha language, the meaning of Kulamo refers to the broken cloth tree of the indigo family, a type of beautiful, tall tree which can grow up to 8 meters and has bright corymb-shaped flowers. In full bloom during summer, the broken cloth tree is extremely appealing and greatly beloved by the people of Prepetcha. It is worth mentioning that the seeds of the broken cloth tree have a high oil content, making it one of the rare sources of oil in Central America.


    With thoughts flickering rapidly, Xiulote once again approached the large wooden board. His hand traced over the meticulously marked map; this north, central, and south tri-county area was the core of the lake-centered fiefdom.


    During the western campaign, the northern Rivermouth County and the central Capital Region had seen the fires of war, with the Tarasco Nobility nearly completely purged, losing their local influence. The population of the Capital Region had already been divided into military settlements, civilian settlements, and were under the direct jurisdiction of the central government; whereas the population of Rivermouth County was in a semi-autonomous state, only waiting for the new batch of Priests to arrive to be wholly brought under control. Only the southern Apachigan state, planned to become Zicao County, had not experienced much war and, while retaining the majority of its population, also retained too many remnants of the old Nobility.


    At this thought, the young king¡¯s expression grew cold. He firmly pressed his palm onto the position of Kulamo City on the map, his gaze turning profound.


    "Your Majesty, what is the next step in the plan?"


    Seeing the prince¡¯s actions, Kuluka looked up. His eyes sparkled with intelligence as he cautiously inquired.


    Xiulote smiled. He reached into his chest and pulled out a scroll, slapping it onto the wooden table before him. And on the top of the scroll were neatly written four large characters.


    "Granting land for military merits!"

 Chapter 499 - 245: The Land Grant for Military Achievements (Vote Request)

    "Military... Force... Grant land?"


    Kuluka the Monkey widened his eyes, stared for a long while, and finally made out the words on the book. He thought carefully for a moment before speaking, half in surprise and half in joy.


    "Your Highness, are you truly going to distribute land to the Samurai?"


    "Of course! Before the decisive battle with the Royal Army, I personally promised the Northern Army: if we win this battle, we shall grant rewards and bestow titles. Distribute fertile lands! Today, I have established a Kingdom in the lake region, and it¡¯s time to fulfill those promises. The Head Warrior has mentioned it to me, even the Samurai of the trusted aide are growing impatient!"


    As he spoke, Xiulote glanced at the Head Warrior beside him. Bertade had been quiet until now, but he smiled and spoke then.


    "These lads dare not speak directly to Your Highness, always pestering me with questions, so much so that my ears are calloused. And it¡¯s the same with other divisions. These legion warriors have followed Your Highness in battle, bravely and loyally to the death; they are indeed Your Highness¡¯s greatest foundation!"


    "Distributing land is what the military heart desires, and we must not fail to do so. Only by settling the Samurai down, getting them rooted in farmland, and having them own land, houses, and families within the Fief can I truly establish a firm foundation in the lake region!"


    The young King nodded, then pondered aloud.


    "For the ranks of the Samurai and the Nobility, I have a detailed plan. Warriors shall advance based on military merit, and the amount of land they own will be tied to their rank and title. This will create a clear path of advancement, giving hope of ascension to all the Samurai, Militia, and even Slaves of the Fief!"


    Speaking of which, Xiulote smiled slightly. Undoubtedly, this system was inspired by the Warring States and Han military meritocracy. Land belonged to the Monarch, who would then grant it based on military merit, bestow it according to titles, and also reclaim the old lands of the Nobility.


    The young King had contemplated this system for several years. However, within the Mexica Alliance, the Great Nobility were deeply entrenched, affecting all aspects of the Alliance, thus such radical reforms had to be handled with extreme caution, or they might end up like Shang Yang.


    Only now, with the lake region as his Fief, controlling a loyal and powerful legion, had he taken out the plan again. Most of the old Nobility of Tarasco had been destroyed in the war, and the rest were too weak to resist. As the old order of the Kingdom crumbled like clay, it was like a blank canvas, and he truly had the opportunity to comfortably design a new system!


    While pondering, Xiulote opened the book. The first few pages covered records and planning on land output. Only by clarifying the agricultural system and understanding the output and labor cost could he define the rights and obligations of Samurai and Nobility of different ranks. In essence, what rank should hold how much land, how many Agricultural Slaves should work the fields, and how many warriors should go on campaigns.


    "Today, one man with a family of five manages a hundred mu and annually harvests one and a half dan."


    The young King turned the first page, recalling the memories he had fought to remember. This was Li Kui¡¯s estimation of agriculture during the Warring States period. A dan here equals about 20 liters, holding 24 jin of grain. The mu during the Warring States era were small, three and a half equaled one standard mu. So, in the era of land grants in the Qin State, the fertile lands of the Yellow River basin typically harvested once a year, and one able-bodied individual would cultivate about 5-6 mu, with an average yield of around 120 jin per standard mu.


    The next sentence under Xiulote¡¯s finger read, "Ten hu per mu, this is called good land, a common term throughout the land." This record was from the Wei-Jin period, with one and a half mu equaling a standard mu, and one hu roughly equivalent to half a dan during the Warring States, i.e., 12 jin. Meaning, a standard mu of high-quality land at the time would produce about 180 jin.


    Thus, during the entire Qin and Han period of land grants, the Yellow River region¡¯s land yield peaked at between 120-180 jin. However, Qin had little water and the land was mostly mediocre, producing much less, around 100 jin. The agricultural technology of the Qin and Han periods was not yet developed, and the south had not been cultivated, in fact, the per unit yield was much less than that of the Lake Region¡¯s Milpa. The number of land grants in military honors should thus be adjusted accordingly to the current situation.


    Xiulote continued to ponder, his gaze drifting toward the distant homeland. During the mid-Ming dynasty in this era, because American crops had not been introduced, the north usually had one harvest per year, while the south had two.


    In the north during the Jiajing era, due to the constraints of soil and water, especially rainfall, there were many thin and dry fields. "The land in the north is poor, each mu yielding but a few dou."; "Getting five or six dou per mu is a cause for celebration." Each dou being 18 jin, this meant, the water-scarce northern ordinary land yielded about 90-120 jin per mu.


    For northern fields along lakes, where water is plentiful, like Huaiqing Prefecture, Zhangde Prefecture, and Minzhou Wei, along rivers, "the land yields ten hu or eight hu per mu", "a large mu yields three or four dan." According to "Chinese Historical Grain Output per Mu Research," one dan in the Ming dynasty was slightly more than 180 jin, with one large mu about three standard mu. Thus, the yield of good northern fields in the Ming dynasty was slightly more than one dan per mu, about 200 jin.


    Therefore, in this era, the Celestial Empire¡¯s northern dry lands yielded 90-200 jin of original rice, and it took about 3-4 mu to fully support one able-bodied individual. This was similar to the high-yielding Milpa of the Lake Region, which was located in a tropical area with plenty of rainfall. Each mu of Milpa produced about 80 jin of corn and beans, and approximately 200 jin of pumpkin.


    In reality, ancient civilizations in America, with corn, pumpkin, sweet potatoes, and potatoes, were never outshone by any country from the old world in terms of food production during this era. This is also why the Stone-Bronze Age civilizations of America could sustain populations ranging from millions to tens of millions with relatively small land areas.


    S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 500 - 245: The Land Grant for Military Achievements (Vote Request)_2

    In this era, in the south, intensive farming of rice fields that could be harvested twice a year presented a completely different scene. The best fields in the south yielded an astonishing amount, four to five times that of the good fields in the north, and were very similar to the floating gardens of Tenochtitlan. However, such outputs equally demanded large amounts of manure and river silt to maintain nutrient input.


    In the region of Liang Lakes, where rice was planted in two seasons, "the fields near the city were so fertile, harvesting no less than five or six stones per acre". In the Pearl River Delta, "the best fields harvested eleven or ten baskets, the next best eight or nine baskets, and the least five or six baskets." Usually, two baskets are equivalent to one stone, so in the Guangzhou region, the best fields yielded about five to six stones of rice per acre in two seasons, nearly 1000 jin; the average fields produced about four stones, roughly over 600 jin; and the poorest fields two to three stones, around 400 jin.


    Therefore, it calculates that the yield of rice fields in the Ming Dynasty¡¯s southern regions was about 400 to 1000 jin per acre per season. Of course, the poorest fields were the most numerous, with an average yield of about 500 to 600-plus jin per acre, enough to sustain one able-bodied man per acre of wet rice field.


    Seeing this, Xiulote paused for a moment and sighed softly.


    At the end of the 15th century, when the Old and New World had not yet communicated, Europe¡¯s yield per acre was actually far inferior to those of the Near East, India, the Celestial Empire, and even ancient American civilizations, due to temperature, precipitation, crop variety, and agricultural levels.


    In the records of a manor in Norfolk, England, in the 15th century, the yield per acre of wheat was about eight to nine bushels, while that of barley was six to seven bushels. Each bushel of wheat was about 54 jin, and barley about 42 jin, making one acre about slightly more than six city acres. After conversion, it was only about 40-80 jin of grain per city acre. In the cold, mountainous regions of Northern Europe, these grain yields were even less.


    Generally, in medieval Europe, ten acres of land could only sustain one adult male, and each man, using horses and iron tools, could farm 20-40 acres where he would cultivate thinly over large areas and also grow pasture grass.


    In this era of emerging maritime exploration, the whole of Europe had low yields and suffered from plagues. The total population was only about 80-90 million people. Among them, France had the most, under 15 million, and all of Italy and Shenluo each had about 10 million. The colonial empires of Spain and Portugal combined had only about 7-8 million. Before the cold-resistant potato was introduced, the population in Northern Europe was extremely limited. The narrow British Isles had a total regional population of only about 3-4 million. During the same period, Denmark and Sweden each had about 6 million people, and Norway only 3 million.


    It was only after the discovery of America that navigators obtained the high-yield crops of America and ecstatically brought them back to the Old World, bringing Europe into the demographic explosion of the 16th century and a new era of rapid civilizational development.


    In places where corn, sweet potatoes, potatoes, and pumpkins spread, barren mountains could be cultivated, field yields multiplied, and the burgeoning population increased explosively. The rapidly increasing population also provided the foundation for the Age of Great Colonization.


    It is no exaggeration to say that the discovery of America ignited the first flame of Europe¡¯s emergence. The crops of America were the most important cornerstone in Europe¡¯s hundreds of years of great development and truly changed the entire world!


    Xiulote stared silently for a moment, as countless images of the future flickered through his mind. He took a deep breath and buried everything in his heart. The monkey named Kuluka carefully glanced at His Highness, feeling that there was a fire burning in His Highness¡¯s eyes.


    Then, the young King continued to flip through the pages until he came to the land grant document he had written himself. Bertade and Kuluka leaned in, carefully examining the diagrams and text on it.


    "Military Merit Land Grant Document," the first line had five characters, depicting a figure holding a weapon, next to symbols of status like war clothes, and farmlands where crops grew.


    "All the youths from community military schools, the militia who have passed real battle tests, and a portion of strong and capable slaves, can join the Fief legions, becoming the most basic young warriors," Bertade read the next line. His demeanor, no longer calm, rapidly changed as he seemed deep in thought. After a while, the Head Warrior asked in a low voice,


    "Your Highness, do you really intend to open the distinguished warrior rank to ordinary militia and lowly slaves?"


    Xiulote nodded calmly, affirming,


    "Of course! I will open this grand avenue to all suitable warriors, and I will even allow certain devout foreign mercenaries to join. In my Fief, I make the rules! I want to strengthen the legion¡¯s power as much as possible and integrate the ruled populations!"


    Kuluka¡¯s eyes flickered. He quietly and quickly read on, soon coming to different ranks of warriors.


    "Young warriors, issued sleeveless cotton armor, war clubs, and shields. Capturing or decapitating one enemy, promoted to First Level Captor, becoming a First Level Warrior,"


    "First Level Warrior, granted war clothes, leather hat, and Obsidian Dagger. Capturing or decapitating two people, promoted to Second Level Vastec Hunter, that is, Second Level Warrior," S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Second Level Warrior, granted an honorary cloak. Given 20 acres of land, one agricultural slave/servant. Capturing or decapitating five militia/one warrior, then promoted to Third Level Elite Fire Warrior... Spear Legion of 5500 militia, all promoted to Second Level Warriors, tentatively granted 11,000 acres, given agricultural slaves/servants 5500 people?!"


    Upon reading this, Kuluka exclaimed in surprise. His own Spear Legion being promoted to warriors meant that he himself would naturally become the leader of the warrior group.


    "Your Highness, do you really want to promote all the Spear militia to warriors? While we indeed have enough land now, where will we find so many slaves to work it?"

 Chapter 501 - 245: The Land Grant for Military Achievements (Vote Request)_3

    Hearing this, Xiulote smiled and nodded, only answering the first question.


    "The Spear Legion has been tempered by war, achieving countless combat achievements on this journey, even crushing the central army of the Tarasco Royal Army and capturing the Divine Eagle¡¯s Royal Banner! Their combat power is there for all to see. In group battles, they are no less inferior to the Samurai Legion, and their resilience is even stronger. They rightfully deserve to be rewarded!...


    To grant them 20 acres of land, deducting fallow land, there would only be 8 acres to cultivate each season, thus needing one agricultural slave. According to the standard of 4 acres per adult, this is sufficient to support two people."


    "As for the samurai¡¯s food consumption in training, one person can equate to three adults. Therefore, a samurai of this rank needs to often stay in the warrior camp, where the fief provides centralized support and military training. If they return to their own fields, they cannot fully dedicate themselves."


    The young king pondered for a moment and added an explanation. A samurai of this rank is actually similar to the elite Ashigaru of the Japanese Warring States period. They are the backbone of the legion, as well as the most numerous force.


    "Third-Level samurai are granted advanced War Clothes. They are bestowed 100 acres of land and 5 agricultural slaves/servants. Capturing alive or decapitating 12 Militia or 2 elite warriors, they are then promoted to Fourth-Level senior samurai. Altogether, 4,000 warriors have accumulated rewards, granted 40,000 acres of land, with 20,000 slaves."


    This rank of samurai can be considered the lowest tier of military nobility, akin to the rank of common officer in the Qin and Han dynastic military hierarchy. By granting 100 acres, of which 40 are actually cultivated, requiring 5 people and producing enough food to support 10 adults. In theory, the agricultural slaves distributed come from the captives taken when the samurai are promoted. The non-productive consumption of a samurai is around 3 adults, and around 5 during times of war.


    In other words, a Third-Level samurai is a fully professional soldier who can also be self-sufficient in food to a certain extent. They can also be considered the lowest rank of military landlords, and this is exactly the class that Xiulote hopes to foster.


    Bertade took a deep breath. This military land-grant document, nominally following the Alliance¡¯s promotion system, has an inherently different substance and could even be described as a revolutionary reform. The Head Warrior shook his head and continued to look at the distribution of land for the Fourth-Level senior samurai.


    "Fourth-Level samurai are granted exquisite Leather Armor, allowed to don feathers of various colors symbolizing honor. They are granted 240 acres of land, 12 servants. Comparable to a squad leader who leads 20-80 people in the army during war. They provide two samurai or one samurai plus one Auxiliary Troop. If they achieve a major accomplishment, they will be promoted to First-Level military nobility. In all, 1,600 people have been granted fiefs, 40,000 acres of land, and 20,000 servants."


    Upon reaching the level of Fourth-Level senior samurai, one can establish their own family, becoming an independent samurai clan. Their status is similar to that of an intermediate officer in the Qin and Han military hierarchy, enjoying exemptions from labor. With 240 acres to grant, about 100 are actually cultivated, requiring 12 people and able to support 24 adults. Converted to military population, a Fourth-Level senior samurai can support two professional samurai and one semi-non-productive Auxiliary Troop. These individuals are usually family members.


    The Head Warrior and the monkey exchanged glances, their minds filled with myriad thoughts, all converging into silence in the grand hall. After a long pause, they continued to read about the nobility land grants below.


    "First-Level military nobility, endowed with Jaguar or Eagle Battle Garments, Exquisite Beast Helmets, equipped with Bronze Axes... granted 800 acres of land and 40 servants. Comparable to an army leader of 200 people or a Camp Commander. During war, they provide two to three samurai, plus one to two Auxiliary Troops. A total of 500 people have been promoted, along with 400 from the Jaguar Warrior Brigade being transferred to fiefs, totaling 900 people. They are granted 72,000 acres of land and 36,000 servants."


    A First-Level military noble can be compared to the officer class within the twenty-rank nobility system, or viewed as a Noble Knight of Medieval Europe. With 800 acres granted and over 300 actually cultivated, they can sustain 80 adults. A First-Level military noble can thus support at least five full-time samurai and two to three Auxiliary Troops on their land. They already form the lower tier of the political members with a voice within the fief¡¯s military group.


    Bertade nodded. Such rewards were superior to the Alliance¡¯s military nobility but were largely within an acceptable level. He continued reading, his brow furrowing unconsciously.


    "Second-Level hereditary nobility, participate in the fief¡¯s council, with the fief being passed down through generations... granted 2,000 acres of land and 120 servants. Comparable to a Camp Commander of a thousand and a Legion Commander. In times of war, they provide eight samurai and four Auxiliary Troops. This time, 20 are promoted, granted 48,000 acres of land and 2,400 servants.


    The specific list includes: Veteran Etalik, Monkey Kuluka, Black Wolf Toltec, Naval Commander Annatri, Eagle Warrior Balda, Tarasco Group Commander Ezpan, Huitu Puap, Crocodile Marshal Osta, and Head of the Sky Family Oorta..." Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "My King! Thank you for your grace! The monkey swears to serve you unto death!"


    Kuluka whispered emotionally upon reading this. Overwhelmed, he knelt to the ground, tears shining in his eyes.


    As a Second-Level hereditary noble, as the name suggests hereditary land and titles, they represent the peak that most of the Alliance¡¯s families aspire to, the class of the Great Nobility... For an ordinary samurai, this was also the pinnacle of life he once longed for. He never imagined that merely following His Highness for a few years would allow him to achieve it today!


    Xiulote smiled and nodded, reaching out to lift Kuluka. A hereditary noble granted 2,400 acres, of which 1,000 are actually cultivated, with 120 servants, can support 240 adults. Solely relying on the land¡¯s output, a noble family can maintain an affluent lifestyle, supporting at least 15 full-time warriors and half as many Auxiliary Troops. They will participate in the decisions on major affairs of the fief and lead the army when going to war.

 Chapter 502 - 245: The Land Grant for Military Achievements (Vote Request)_4

    In this list, the civilians born Kuluka, Toltec, and Ezpan had been promoted two levels, while most of the nobly born other generals had mostly been promoted one level. The Surrendered General Oorta was granted a flat rank, and Ostpai, a noble who had lost his family¡¯s warrior¡¯s glory, had been demoted.


    Jaguar Warrior Olosh and Divine Blessing Legion Legion Commander Natali should have also been on this list. However, after the autumn harvest, Olosh was leading the Holy City Legion and would return to the Holy City with his father, while Natali¡¯s Divine Blessing Legion would also return to Xilotepec City. Xiulote had temporarily noted down both of their achievements and would wait for a time when he had the authority to grant rewards.


    Upon rising, Monkey bowed deeply again. It took a while before he managed to calm his excitement and finish reading the list, but he did not see the Head Warrior¡¯s name. His mind quickly turned as he looked further down, instantly experiencing a longing he had never considered before.


    "Third-Level Noble, involved in national affairs, heritage passed down through generations... granted 8000 mu of land, 400 servants, ranked higher than a legion commander... deploying 30 warriors and 15 auxiliary troops in wartime. This time promoting one person, Holy Eagle Warrior Head Bertade!"


    The Noble granted 8000 mu of land actually cultivated 3200 mu, 400 servants, enough to support 50 full-time warriors, and over 20 part-time auxiliary troops. This was already the highest level among the nobility within the fief, second only to the supreme divine Monarch.


    On reading this, Bertade pursed his lips. He knelt on one knee, profoundly bowing to His Highness. Then, while still kneeling, he loudly suggested to Xiulote.


    "Your Highness, please retract this grant! I come from a humble background as a common civilian warrior, have always been your Escort, and I have never led a legion nor achieved remarkable deeds. Now, to elevate my rank above the rest, I fear others might resent it..."


    "Bertade, what are you talking about?"


    Xiulote interrupted with a laugh. Then, his expression became serious and he spoke earnestly.


    "You were the first to follow me and have always protected me, saving my life numerous times! You led the Personal Guard, single-handedly trained numerous warriors and generals, and have always been utterly loyal! You are always calm and speak little, decisive and strategic in your actions. In terms of seniority, accomplishments, abilities, character, and even popularity... you are truly exceptional. How can you not accept this division of land and become the highest-ranking noble of honor?!" Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    On hearing this, Bertade appeared deeply moved. Facing the dignified His Highness, he opened his mouth, but for a moment, he could not speak. The Head Warrior had to prostrate himself fully and perform a solemn bow before he could continue speaking.


    "Your Highness, the fief is newly established, it is not suitable to grant such generous rewards now. It might be better to wait for the future..."


    "This grant to you is in part to set an example for the generals and is precisely for the future! I have a long-term plan, and I need you to train your own trusted aides to truly stand on their own!... In a few years, you will travel to the far Eastern Great Lake... to the serpentine island in the lake... to conquer the local natives... in the farthest east... to wait... to capture..."


    On hearing His Excellency¡¯s prophetic speech, Bertade showed an astonished expression, which then turned solemn. He respectfully bowed again, resolutely saying.


    "Your Highness, your will is my life, and even if I have to travel thousands of miles to the Endless Great Lake, I will capture the foreigners as foretold!... But..."


    The Head Warrior paused for a moment, seeming hesitant.


    "Speak freely!"


    "Your Highness, I am not speaking for my own sake. It¡¯s just that this grant, though named by Alliance levels, is actually entirely different. The warrior hierarchy¡¯s rewards are extremely generous, and their status is quite high. Military noble ranks are roughly equivalent, but hereditary and honorary nobility, compared to the Alliance, are much more stringent... Your Highness, do you intend to limit the top-tier Great Nobility and cultivate the middle warrior class?"


    "Ha ha, you see right through it! Bertade, you are now the only one by my side whom I can trust with great responsibilities!"


    The youthful King¡¯s face showed a genuine smile. The old nobilities of the fief¡¯s south had occupied the majority of the local villages and fields. Their land and servants vastly exceeded the standards in the military grant document... and this was the basis for the next step.


    "Monkey, didn¡¯t you just ask me where all these lands and servants came from?"


    Xiulote laughed heartily, his laughter filled with grandeur and killing intent.


    "This time with the granting of lands, 11,000 people were rewarded, with nearly everyone in the Northern Route Army receiving promotions and grants. 220,000 mu of land to be granted, 110,000 servants... And all these lands and servants, they¡¯ll all come from here!"


    The young King pointed forcefully at the large map, as if swinging the legion¡¯s flag. And the red flag¡¯s pointed location, the Mexica legion¡¯s advance, was just south of Apachigan, on the fertile lands by the river in the prosperous Kulamo City!

 Chapter 503 - 246: The Situation in All Directions, Intelligence and Diplomacy

    The rains of July lingered over the boundless fields, as the scorching sun occasionally showered the land with the light of life. The young seedlings were lush, and the fruit trees were thriving, bringing vitality to the earth of the Lake Region. When the pumpkin seedlings took shape, more rains roared down, obscuring the sky. The torrential rain transformed into creeks that merged into broader lakes, making Lake Patzcuaro all the more magnificent.


    "This is the rainy season of August, which comes in with a drumbeat and devours mountains and rivers."


    Xiulote stood on the top floor of the Palace of Wind, gazing at the northern waters. At the peak of the rainy season, the Great Lake¡¯s water level rose significantly, submerging the surrounding area. The endless reflection of water looked vast and bold from afar. The young king watched for a moment and then suddenly frowned.


    "The Lake Patzcuaro in rainy season can expand this much! Although a lot of fertile land by the river has already been vacated, it¡¯s still flooded up to the edge of the farmlands. And this is just a normal year. If there were a big flood, the submerged area would probably... No wonder the villages by the lake are all built on highlands... Well, what needs to be done is flood control around the lake!... Lake Patzcuaro needs to be tamed, just like Lake Texcoco, surrounded and segmented by countless dams, fully managed and tamed!"


    Xiulote reflected silently, with fiery passion resonating in his chest. A king¡¯s passion is sometimes similar to that of ordinary people, yet often immensely different. This difference lies in an added confidence and boldness to reshape the mountains and rivers!


    The wind swayed the wind chimes, their crisp ringing overshadowing the sound of the rain. The weather, being stormy, was unsuitable for traveling. The young king quietly watched for a while, recorded his new plans in his mind, and turned to head towards the great hall.


    In the magnificent hall, the guards had already prepared breakfast. A soft baked corn cake, a small bowl of tender roasted matsutake mushrooms, a grilled fish spread with chili sauce, two pieces of smoked deer meat with honey, and a cup of sweet hot cocoa.


    Xiulote sat cross-legged at the table, eating his simple breakfast while reading the latest reports.


    The tense period of spring plowing had ended, and the fief was tranquil. The garrisoned troops and the people alike enjoyed the rare leisure amidst the storm. In the meantime, numerous scouts had been dispatched to gather information about the southern nobles and to examine the movements of the surrounding tribes.


    "News of the downfall of the Tarasco Kingdom has spread far and wide. All parts are shaken. From the southwest of the fief, nobles from the Tekos have already sent envoys expressing their willingness to submit and pay tribute. The latest envoys have also requested the redemption of the captured nobles and samurais."


    Reading this, Xiulote pondered for a moment. Most of the samurai prisoners of war from the southern Tekos had already been sent to the Lake Capital City, and he had only kept some guides and tribe militiamen incorporated into the garrisoned troops.


    "Since they were once enemies of the Alliance, they must pay a price! Sooner or later, I must personally conquer the Colima Mountain Region... Well, I might send back a few tribal nobles, but it¡¯s absolutely impossible to release the capable samurais and militiamen."


    Xiulote shook his head, issued a brief directive, then set aside the report. He continued reading to understand the conditions of the surrounding city-states and to outline the diplomatic policies for the newly formed fief.


    "After spring plowing, the fief¡¯s northern allies from Otapan City-State immediately sent congratulatory envoys to celebrate Your Highness¡¯ victory... and at the same time sought support regarding the ownership of the land on the north coast of the Lerma River?... Tepopolo has already demanded the land of the northern Wooden Fort, threatening with the massive army of the Alliance, while the Otomi people are garrisoned in the northern Wooden Fort and reluctant to hand it over..."


    Reading this, Xiulote fell into deep thought.


    The Otapan City-State is the ancestral city of the Otomi, holding a special place in the hearts of the Otomi. Under the influence of the old Priest Olte, the city-state¡¯s Commander Jiowar had sworn a blood oath to him, willingly becoming a vassal. The westward conquest was arduous; the 3,000 Otomi troops had fought hard, first plundering to lure the enemy, then suffering heavy losses while attacking the formidable Rivermouth fortress. The Otomi City-State also served as a sturdy barrier for the northern part of the fief against the Chichimeca Canine Descendants.


    As for the Tepopolo fief in the northeastern part of the Lake Region... though they were of the same origins and had participated in the western conquest together, they couldn¡¯t be considered as belonging to his own line of force... there was no subordinate relationship between them, and there was even competition...


    The young king pondered for a moment before turning to the Head Warrior standing by his side.


    "Bertade, General Jiowar has sworn a blood oath to me, and Noble Chief Tepopolo fought alongside us... I really don¡¯t wish for them to fight each other over a fief. However, His Majesty delineated the boundaries of the Lake Region and personally informed me, so I find it difficult to openly take a stand on this matter."


    "Your Highness, do you mean... there¡¯s a difference between close and distant relations?"


    Bertade¡¯s expression remained calm, but his eyes flickered slightly.


    "Yes, Bertade, the Alliance has its own rules, but it depends on the execution... Otapan City had contributed greatly during the western conquest and has always been close to me, I will remain fair... Tepopolo was only recently enfeoffed, with an unstable foundation. He has little reliable force in hand, and his authority isn¡¯t yet established. It¡¯s impossible for him to send troops north this year... The main southern forces have already returned to the eastern border, currently engaging with the Tlaxcalan troops. His Majesty, overlooking the world, wouldn¡¯t consider this small strip of north coast wasteland... Head Warrior, discreetly send envoys to inform the old Priest Olte of these realities. He will know what to do."


    The Head Warrior nodded, took out paper and pen, and recorded His Highness¡¯ words.


    S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 504 - 246: The Situation in All Directions, Intelligence and Diplomacy - Part 2

    Tepopolo had relocated his old quarters, held a grand assembly of the nobility, appealed to the samurai, and hurried the spring plowing ever since he arrived in his fief. These series of actions indicated that the transferred noble was eager to make his mark. The population of Akanbaro State had been sparse due to the ravages of war, and even with the addition of the transferred noble families, it remained under a hundred thousand, with no shortage of land for cultivation. His threats this time to demand lands in the north seemed more about establishing his credibility among the local nobility.


    "The young Jaguar commands the surrounding mountains and forests. The land in the lakes does not need another strong and greedy wolf."


    Bertade¡¯s gaze deepened. Xiulote, unaffected, continued perusing the report.


    "In the northwest of the fief, in the Chapala Lake Region, the Feather Prince led the samurai legions to defeat several powerful Guamal Canine Descendants Tribes repeatedly. Upon hearing about the rampage in the Lake Region, most of the other plundering tribes, carrying their looted goods, food, and captives, began to retreat to the Tlacaelel state in the northern highlands. This large-scale invasion by the Canine Descendants should now have ceased."


    "Congratulations to His Highness on his magnificent victory, you are like an eagle soaring through the sky, dominating the vast and magnificent mountains and rivers... The chieftains of the Guamal Tribes have asked the traders if they would like to purchase the captured Prepetcha slaves. The Canine Descendants aren¡¯t interested in gold or silver, they only ask for food, wine, salt, or weapons in exchange. An adult captive can be traded for about three hundred pounds of food, or a hundred pounds of rice wine, or over ten pounds of salt, or two sets of cotton armor, which can also be replaced by an equivalent amount of cocoa beans. Young women are half price, and children can be added as a side deal..."


    "The trader¡¯s estimates of the number of captives range from 10-20 thousand to 20-30 thousand, mainly vigorous men and women. With bulk purchasing, the price can be greatly reduced. Please, gracious Highness, respond as soon as possible... Those innocent lives, like flowers in the summer rain, tremble, ready to fall at any moment, buried in the soil of the rainy season... Asides from valuable craftsmen and doctors, the Canine Descendants have limited food and will not keep many captives who consume it... The traders have already purchased a group of slaves in advance with the merchandise at hand. Just follow the Lerma River, and it won¡¯t take a week to bring them back to the fief."


    Xiulote frowned again. He examined the letter in his hand, which mixed common pictographs with neatly written Chinese characters, even verses that rhymed. The young king asked in confusion.


    "Who wrote this report? It doesn¡¯t seem like the work of samurai."


    Upon hearing this, Bertade smiled faintly, his expression amused.


    "Highness, you forgot. The supervisor for the northern caravan is Balamo. He has been blown by a year¡¯s worth of sand on the northern plateau and even saw the white snow. Every month, the report he sends back always includes some poetry."


    "Ah. Haha."


    Recalling this, Xiulote couldn¡¯t help but laugh. Not long after the western campaign began, when the Divine Blessing Legion arrived, he assigned Balamo, the Poet Commander of the legion, to take full responsibility for managing the caravans and scouts in the north.


    There were many considerations. To trade in the barbarian regions, one must first excel in martial arts and have both courage and insight. Additionally, one must be adaptable, articulate, skilled at social interaction, and having some cultural knowledge was even better. Lastly, it was about using the northern wind, sand, and cold waves to temper the temperament of the Poet Commander further.


    "How is Balamo faring in the north? Looking at this report, it seems he is still quite free-spirited," Xiulote asked with a smile. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Balamo makes a very good caravan supervisor. He is eloquent, skilled in martial arts, and has recently learned some songs and dances, making him quite popular on the northern plateau. Well, he also maintains very good relationships with many Noble Chiefs¡¯ wives. The customs are different on the plateau and in the Alliance, and the people in the Canine Descendants Tribes often do not know who their fathers are... Often, it¡¯s the noble women who have the final say... Although Balamo has it tough, he also enjoys it," replied Bertade.


    At this, both men laughed heartily. After a while, the young king composed himself and said earnestly.


    "Our fief lacks population. The proposal to purchase captives is feasible; we need men and women of working age and children as well! Among the materials for the purchase, start with salt, then liquor, followed by grain, and finally the damaged weapons and equipment from the western campaign. Have Balamo press down the prices, and try to trade along the Lerma River as much as possible. I will have Anna¡¯s Naval Forces transport them. Also, send additional priests to the northern caravans to spread the glory of the Chief Divine as quickly as possible!"


    The Head Warrior quickly noted this down, then bowed to Xiulote.


    "Highness, your kindness is boundless!"


    Xiulote nodded. In the aftermath of war, the fief¡¯s population was much scarcer than materials and needed to be replenished in any possible way. As for the future arrangements of the Poet Commander... some new ideas emerged in his mind, which he quickly suppressed... The young king continued to examine the movements in all directions.


    "From the south of the fief, envoys from the Tlapanec Tribal Alliance have arrived. They expressed their submission to the Alliance and are willing to tribute the rainforest¡¯s specialty products, including feathers, spices, gemstones, and salt from the south. They request to continue the copper trading that had existed previously with the Tarasco Kingdom and are equally eager for the obsidian mostly monopolized by the Alliance,"


    Reading this, Xiulote shook his head.


    The Tlapanec tribal groups formed a loose alliance located south of the Weytamo mountains. They are scattered between the east-west mountain ranges and the sea to the west, residing in the lowland rainforests and coastal plains. The Tlapanec tribes have a small population and limited farmland, but they excel in trading, mostly engaging in wholesale trade. To their east are the Mistec and Zapotecs Alliance.

 Chapter 505 - 246: The Situation in All Directions, Intelligence and Diplomacy - 3

    "You must not! The Alliance prohibits luxury. Bronze and Obsidian are strategic materials, controlled centrally by the Kingdom, lords or merchants are not allowed to sell them abroad..."


    Xiulote issued his directive without mercy. The formal subordination of the Tlapanec people offered no benefits to the Alliance. Their remote location, settled among the complex terrains of the lowland rainforest, made their land of little value and difficult to be threatened by the military power of the Alliance.


    "...send out a squad of Samurai, ban Tlapanec merchants, and monitor the private trade of the southern nobility. If anything is discovered, just collect evidence and hold on to it for a little while."


    The young monarch thought for a moment, then added specific handling methods.


    He stamped the document with a jade badge in red ink, and then handed the document and the token over to the Head Warrior, keeping a concise backup record for himself. The Head Warrior immediately summoned several trusted aides, chose a responsible one, and handed over the document and token. Subsequently, the responsible aide securely kept the document and immediately took the token to mobilize troops in the camp, enforcing His Highness¡¯s commands directly.


    Although the execution process of this series of policies was somewhat rough, it worked as smoothly as moving one¡¯s own arm, simple and efficient, only following the commands of the authority.


    As Xiulote¡¯s authority increased, a multitude of information from both inside and outside the Fief and all powers were now fully converging to him. Normally, he was the reviewer of information and the ultimate decision-maker; his generals and trusted aides formed the circle involved in policy discussion; his trained guards, department heads, and officers at various levels of the legion were the specific executors. Belonging to the execution group were thousands of craftsmen serving, tens of thousands of Mexica legionnaires, and hundreds of thousands of community civilians who had been effectively integrated.


    This governance system relied not on a mature system of legalism but rather on the monarch¡¯s personal authoritarian control. Compared to the mature civil official system of the Celestial Empire, the Alliance¡¯s form of governance was more akin to the nomadic tribes on the northern plains, led by a strong "Khan" or "Great Chieftain" who made major decisions.


    "To the southeast of the Fief, the Mistec people sent envoys to pay tribute, offering dyes, gold, silver, gemstones, pearls, and young girls. Your Highness, they seek trade relations with the new kingdom and also wish to form a closer partnership with you. Meanwhile, the monitoring scouts have discovered that they are continuously inquiring into the details of the western expedition war and are very interested in the newly appeared weapons of the Heavenly Divine... Additionally, according to uncertain news from long-distance traders, the Southern Route Commander of the Tarasco Kingdom, Prince Quiyus, might have already escaped along the Tarsus River to the Mistec..."


    "Craftsmen with exquisite skills in precious metals, the cloud people, the Mistec... the secret of gunpowder... Quiyus..."


    Xiulote fell into thought. The Fief had nominally controlled Apachigan, capable of moving along the Tarsus River upwards through the subjugated Qontal tribe, facilitating large-scale exchanges with the southeastern Mistec people.


    Unlike the politically loose, sparsely populated Tlapanec tribes, the Mistec Alliance had the rudiments of a state, with a population of about eight or nine hundred thousand, and under the pressure of the Alliance, they advanced and retreated together with the Zapotecs. They thrived with a population of at least twenty thousand Samurai, occupying the fertile southern lands, producing many luxury goods, and possessing a large number of skilled craftsmen... Thinking of this, the young monarch picked up his pen again.


    "Accept the Mistec¡¯s request for trade but restrict the exchange of strategic materials. Do not accept the Mistec¡¯s proposals for marriage, and allocate the tribute girls to the soldiers of the Mexica legion. Keep control of the gunpowder craftsmen, and maintain strict secrecy of the gunpowder formula. Sweep the battlefield of the great war again, strictly prohibiting the outflow of new weapons! Additionally, test the Mistec envoys to see if they are willing to exchange Tarasco nobles for a batch of weapons and leather armor..."


    After a pause, Xiulote wrote again.


    "If the Mistec are willing to sell slaves on a large scale, the Alliance is willing to sell a sufficient amount of bronze, grain, salt, and military supplies."


    The young King handed the document to the Head Warrior and then picked up the last piece of correspondence on the table. He scrutinized the text of the letter, and a smile finally appeared on his face.


    "The esteemed King Aweit, leading the southern legion, battled the Tlaxcala people multiple times in the southeastern Xochipeople state of the Alliance. Relying on the range superiority of their longbows and powerful crossbows, the Mexica legion suppressed the Tlaxcalans¡¯ archers and achieved victory in two field battles! Including the Militia, the Tlaxcalan forces suffered close to ten thousand casualties and retreated to the eastern Xochipeople state, where they now hold several border fortresses. It is now the peak of the rainy season, and the combat between the two parties has temporarily ceased, holding position half a state apart..."


    "Besides the two states harassed by the Tlaxcalans, this year¡¯s spring farming went smoothly for the Alliance. After applying well-ripened manure, the crops in the Texcoco Lake District are flourishing, and the grain output is expected to increase significantly..."


    "When the news of the magnificent victory in the west reached the Capital City, the High Priest personally led a twelve-member Priesthood to hold a grand sacrificial ceremony in front of the Great Temple, celebrating the victory of the western campaign! The Elder personally presided, making offerings to the Chief Divine and the ancestors. The sounds of celebration in the capital city were like thunder in the rainy season, everywhere filled with all-night uproarious shouts!


    The names of the King and Your Highness, just like the great predecessor monarch Montezuma, were prayed for by the warriors of the Alliance during the sacrificial rites! Now, the citizens of the Lake Capital are merely awaiting the King¡¯s victorious return to hold a grand victory sacrifice! The post-war victory offering is likely to be scheduled on New Year¡¯s celebration day... by then, it will be an unmatched grand ceremony, possessing the most numerous and holiest Divine Descendant sacrifices!"


    Xiulote was slightly distracted, with the image of King Su¡¯angua in his slumber arising in his mind.


    In the past three months, the Alliance¡¯s searching teams had successively captured several fleeing princes of the Tarasco Kingdom. And the King of Tarasco, the Royal Family, and many from the Great Nobility, had already been handed over to the returning troops of Aweit. Their fate, like a high piled pyre, had already been selected by the Divine flame, destined to turn into ash scattered by the wind amidst the excited cheers of hundreds of thousands.


    The young King¡¯s heart was already like iron. He merely gazed for a moment before turning to the final words.


    "The High Priest along with the Elder Priests have resolved to establish a total ecclesiastical district in Tarasco. His Highness has been promoted as the youngest Fifth Level Supreme High Priest, fully in charge of all matters within the Tarasco ecclesiastical district! Meanwhile, a large contingent of priests will be drawn by the capital city Priesthood, led by the newly promoted Fourth Level Supreme High Priest Ugus, to arrive at the Mikenque Lake Fief before the autumn harvest to assist the new district¡¯s affairs...


    At His Highness¡¯s request, a large number of senior craftsmen from the Divine Revelation Place in the capital will also be dispatched to Qinchongcan City, to establish the second Divine Revelation Place. As His Highness has been granted land in the lake, following discussions between the Elder and the High Priest, the capital city¡¯s Divine Revelation Place is now managed by the Elder Priests. And the newly built second Divine Revelation Place is fully managed by His Highness..."


    "Hmm... newly promoted Fourth Level Supreme High Priest, son of Elder Uguel... Ugus... the Tarasco ecclesiastical district... the youngest Fifth Level Supreme High Priest... large group of supporting priests... newly established Divine Revelation Place... in exchange for the old Divine Revelation Place... hmm, it¡¯s only fitting, I¡¯m in need of capable hands, it¡¯s a fair deal..."


    Xiulote stood up and paced thoughtfully. Behind the simple few lines of text were a series of political trades and struggles for power. Fortunately, with his grandfather serving as the High Priest at the apex of central power, the results of the trade were satisfactory.


    Time faded gently alongside the ticking of the rain, as the King mused. It was a while before a trusted aide stepped into the great hall. He knelt respectfully on the floor, and his loud report startled the reflective king. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness! Responding to your invitation, the original epic custodian of the Palace of Wind, the learned Elder Sage Jatili from the Prepetcha people, has arrived. He is outside the hall, requesting an audience with the respected King!"

 Chapter 506 - 247: The Knowledgeable Elder

    "Oh! Has the learned elder Jatili already arrived? Summon him at once! No, I myself shall go to the entrance!"


    Xiulote suddenly awakened and turned around. A trace of joy appeared on his face as he quickly made his way towards the great hall¡¯s entrance. Then, the young king suddenly remembered something. He glanced at his plain robe, paused briefly, and gestured for the Head Warrior to drape him in a formal ceremonial dress before he strode eagerly to the entrance to look carefully.


    The mighty wind blew along the corridor, entering through the doors of the Palace of Wind; a curtain depicting the Chief Divine stood in the corridor with the Hummingbird Sun emblem fluttering in the wind. Two lines of silent Mexica samurai stood guard, with only the sound of wind chimes gently ringing in the palace.


    Between the lowered war clubs of the samurai, an old man with white hair, leaning on a rustic wooden staff, quietly gazed at the ancient frescoes in the corridor as well as at the freshly painted marks on them. His figure was thin and his face rosy; he wore a flat, dark round hat and the traditional blue robe of Prepetcha. The back of the blue robe trailed with a few black and white ribbons embedded with various mysterious symbols.


    This sage¡¯s attire, though simple, was not something ordinary people could wear. It symbolized a rare and noble status, representing those in the tribes who possessed knowledge and traditions. Wearing this outfit in public naturally earned the reverence of various Prepetcha tribes.


    Upon hearing the sound, Sage Jatili finally shifted his gaze from the ancient and fresh frescoes. He turned his head, revealing a pair of deep eyes like lake waters, and an aged yet sharp face. He looked at Xiulote, observing the young king¡¯s delicate and resilient features, his gentle eyes like jade, and then assessed the king¡¯s formal and dignified posture, eventually showing a hint of surprise on his face. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The decayed wood of Prepetcha, the remnant people of the Tarasco Kingdom, Jatili, pay respects to your Highness of Mexica, the conqueror of the kingdom, the great new king!"


    Jatili, caught off guard for a moment, lowered his wooden staff and bowed deeply.


    The king before him was so young, merely a fifteen or sixteen-year-old youth! The young king¡¯s appearance was handsome, his demeanor grave and his gaze wise and firm, starkly different from the cruel and tyrannical image of the Mexica conqueror he had imagined... With this thought, a slight movement stirred in the sage¡¯s heart, a divine light flashing in his eyes.


    "Respected learned elder, revered by our kingdom¡¯s citizens for your seniority, I admire you immensely. Please, dispense with the formalities!"


    Xiulote quickly moved forward two steps, carefully lifting the elder by his arms. In the Prepetcha language, the name "Jatili" itself means an old sage.


    The elder naturally stood up straight, without much fuss, and a calm smile appeared on his face. However, this smile was soon replaced by surprise once again.


    The young king released his hands, stepped back, then clenched his right fist to his chest and bowed deeply, performing a solemn ritual.


    "Sage Jatili, you are the keeper of history for the Tarasco Kingdom, the bearer of the Kingdom Epic. Today, there are no distinctions of sovereign and subject, only teacher and student. This gesture is in honor of your wisdom! As a newcomer to this land, I sincerely seek your instruction on the Tarasco epics and ask for guidance from a wise man!"


    Jatili shifted his thin frame to sidestep the king¡¯s gesture, then returned the formal gesture with equal solemnity.


    "A man from a vanquished nation dares not accept a gesture from his Highness... What skills does a turtle, coiled in a mud pond, have to teach an eagle soaring in the sky?"


    Saying this, Jatili paused. Observing the young king¡¯s sincere expression, he continued.


    "A turtle living long in a mud pond might have glimpsed some forgotten skies. If the eagle does not mind, I am willing to slowly share what I know."


    Upon hearing this, a genuine smile appeared on Xiulote¡¯s face.


    The cultural heritage of Tarasco was largely concentrated in two places. One was the Temple of the House of Wind, guarded and handed down by the priests of the three divinities. But this inheritance, along with the knowledgeable high priests, had turned into ethereal blue flames on the night of Qinchongcan¡¯s downfall.


    The other heritage was preserved in the Palace of Wind, managed by generations of tribal sages. Thanks to the sudden uprising of the old militia, the Tarasco chief died too abruptly to light the prepared fire. Thus, the codices, books, and frescoes in the Palace of Wind were preserved intact.


    In these days, Xiulote was both drafting laws for the fief and studying the ancient codices.


    In his reading, Xiulote realized that although the Tarasco Kingdom had lasted only two hundred years, the Prepetcha civilization of the Lake Region had been handed down for nearly two thousand years! The upper echelons of the Tarasco Kingdom were originally from a tribe of Chichimeca Canine Descendants from the northwestern highlands. More than two hundred years ago, they had moved south, conquered the Lake Region, and then integrated into the ancient civilization of the Lake Region, becoming members of the Prepetcha people. In the Lake Region, the overwhelmingly predominant Prepetcha people possessed a mature and unique cultural system.


    Xiulote wished to understand the spiritual world of the Prepetcha people and explore the cultural origins of the civilization to better formulate strategies for tribal assimilation. However, these ancient records, abstract and mysterious, profound and difficult to interpret, and not written in text, required an oral tradition from inheritance bearers for proper understanding.

 Chapter 507 - 247: The Knowledgeable Elder_2

    The young king had searched for a long time before finding that the epic keeper of the Palace of Wind had survived the war and was hiding in a civilian community, being well taken care of by the residents of the Capital City. He then sent a large group of trusted Samurai to formally invite the other party to come and explain the epic of the Prepetcha people.


    Many thoughts flashed through Xiulote¡¯s mind, quickly sinking into the depths of his heart. He wore a gentle smile, personally supporting Jatili¡¯s left arm with his right, guiding the old man toward the center of the grand hall. Jatili tried to pull away his arm but could not break free from the young king¡¯s strong embrace. The old man had no choice but to smile helplessly and let himself be assisted with sprightly steps.


    "Guard, bring two cups of fresh hot cocoa! Add honey and herbs, just as I usually like it."


    The two reached a wooden table in the hall. Xiulote helped the old man sit down on the floor before releasing his arm and sitting cross-legged opposite him. Then, he commanded the guard loudly. The guard brought the hot drinks that had already been prepared. The young king grasped the clay cups with both hands and passed one to Jatili with affection and certainty.


    "Respected sage teacher, please try this cup of hot cocoa! It refreshes the mind and revitalizes the spirit, a sacred beverage of the Mexica Alliance!"


    Jatili took the hot cocoa, gently sipped it, and savored the flavor, praising it.


    "Excellent! Unlike the cold cocoa of the Mexica Alliance, this must be your majesty¡¯s innovation... Fermented fine cocoa beans, finely ground to separate into a light brown cocoa liquor. Wild honey from the southern Rainforest, originating from the vibrant flowers of spring, still carrying a delicate floral fragrance. The vanilla from Texcoco Lake Region¡¯s Chinampa, harvested from the lake in the late autumn. From the blooming of flowers in spring, pollinated by skilled old farmers, taking eight months to yield mature vanilla pods, only the Mexica Alliance can produce them in large quantities... Once these fine ingredients are mixed and boiled with the slightly sweet well water of the Royal Palace, it results in this wonderfully aromatic taste!"


    At this, Jatili paused, then again observed every nuance of Xiulote¡¯s expression with penetrating eyes.


    "Your Highness, the effort required for these two cups of hot cocoa needs a strong young farmer to labor in the fields for an entire year!"


    Listening to the sage¡¯s praise, Xiulote¡¯s face began to show a self-satisfied smile.


    In this era, there weren¡¯t many beverages that could please him. Yet the honey-herb hot cocoa was the perfect drink he had concocted based on memories from a past life, connecting him to bygone recollections. These all-natural, top-quality ingredients blended together offered a taste far superior to the cheap products of the industrial age.


    However, with Jatili¡¯s emphatic final statement, the young king¡¯s smile instantly froze on his face. He forced a smile, a hint of shame flashing across his face.


    "Respected learned elder, I do not favor luxury, but merely prefer fine foods... The people¡¯s strength is precious and should not be wasted; the citizens are like water, they carry the vessel but also capsize it. A monarch must always remember... Hmm, Sage Jatili, when you were at the door just now, you were looking at the new mural in the hallway, do you have any insights?" Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The citizens are like water, they carry the vessel but also capsize it..."


    Jatili chewed on these words, a mysterious gleam flashing in his eyes. He gave Xiulote a profound look, then spoke with a smile.


    "Rumors say that Your Highness is blessed with divine wisdom, is adept at embracing advice, generously kind and merciful, valiant in battle, a natural-born king... Seeing you today, I now understand that the wind and light entering the tent are due to the holes at the top! As for the views on the murals..."


    Jatili turned his head and looked at the murals in the great hall. The Divine Eagle and Hummingbird had vanished. Under the majestic light of the Chief Divine, Lake Patzcuaro shimmered with waves. To the west, the people of Prepetcha and, from the East, the Mexica were together building the magnificent and beautiful Qinchongcan City, stacking high pyramids that seemed to connect the Divine Kingdom with the human world. Beside the bustling city, flowers encircled, butterflies danced among the flora, and laborers transported exquisite objects of gold, silver, and copper, a sight of wealth and beauty everywhere.


    Seeing this, Jatili once again revealed a faint smile. He first praised,


    "Your Highness took over the Palace of Wind just a few months ago, not only fully engaged in spring farming, organizing the people directly, removing obstructive nobility, but also renovated the murals, spreading the faith of the Chief Divine, making poetry sung across the fields... It is evident that Your Highness¡¯s sight is indeed as far-reaching as the Divine Eagle, looking over the world and into the future!"


    Listening to the elder¡¯s praise, Xiulote¡¯s pupils slightly constricted. He pondered for a moment, then took out a wooden spoon and stirred it in a clay cup filled with cocoa. Then, he handed the same wooden spoon to Jatili. The other took the spoon, stirred the layered cocoa, gazed at the mixed cocoa for a while, then took a light sip.


    Jatili, with a profound look in his eyes, continued to speak to the young monarch.


    "Your Highness, I know not much, nor do I intend to comment on your new policies in front of others... Just from this mural alone, Lake Patzcuaro and the people of Prepetcha are blended together, the strokes ancient and antiquated, the environment harmonious and natural, also containing the vitality of when the Kingdom was initially flourishing, certainly the Royal Palace¡¯s old paintings.


    The Mexica¡¯s image is simple and robust, with a square and archaic face shape, movements simple yet vivid. This method of painting is equally ancient, filled with simplicity and boldness from ancient times. The painter must have come from the Holy City of Teotihuacan, imitating the mural art of the Teotihuacan civilization.


    The Mexica Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli¡¯s image is vague yet grand, descending upon the pyramid, radiating a brilliant aura. Feathers behind the Chief Divine are lively and flowing, the pyramid under the feet of the Chief Divine robust and massive, this strong contrast in techniques originates from the craftsman spirit of the Toltec civilization, also embodying the Tepanec people¡¯s ambition and inclusiveness. The legacy of the Toltec civilization was carried on by the Tepanec and then fell into the hands of the Alliance. The painter must have come from Askapozhaleike on the western shore of the Texcoco Lake.


    As for the city¡¯s surrounding flowers and butterflies, laborers carrying gold, silver, and copper objects, the brushwork is intricate and splendid, maximizing details and colors. This opulent style, appearing entwined and dizzyingly captivating, is characteristic of southern City-States. The painter might come from Mistec, or perhaps even further south from the Zapotecs..."


    Jatili, smiling, commented one by one, and then summarized with another smile.


    &"In my view, the three styles each have their features and strengths. However, the essence of painting demands unity. Compared to the original murals, the ancient technique of Teotihuacan is the most natural and closest. The two origins merge seamlessly, like ink blending into water, without any gap. Toltec Chief Divine¡¯s style is the most inclusive and broad, blessing the world, with all people prostrating, like a queen bee commanding the swarm, ordinary bees although distinctive, still toil and follow. Whereas the southern City-States¡¯ style, though seemingly opulent and prosperous, clearly demarcates layers from the original, distinct in high and low. While aesthetic for a time, viewed long enough might start feeling unbalanced, likely not enduring."


    Having said this, Jatili looked at the young monarch with a meaningful inquiry.


    "Your Highness, I was invited by your Samurai, merely wishing to be a turtle closing its eyes. Yet, seeing Your Highness, I suddenly became confused, opened my blind eyes, and spoke all this nonsense. I wonder if Your Highness is satisfied with my commentary? And also, in the governance of your Fief, which style of painting do you prefer?"

 Chapter 508 - 248: Discussion on Governance

    A gentle breeze swept through, like a darting cat, caressing the murals in the grand hall. It tinkled the wind chimes in the corner of the room, stirring the King¡¯s thoughts. The chimes rang softly, and the sage¡¯s words were aged but forceful. The echo resonated in the vacant Royal Palace, gradually dissipating in the wind and sinking into the depths of the King¡¯s heart.


    Hearing Jatili comment on the technique of the murals, Xiulote paused for a moment and looked inquiringly at the Head Warrior, whom he trusted the most.


    Bertade was always composed, yet now, his eyes were unusually fixed. Born a commoner, he had spent half his life in the army. He was genuinely proficient in all but one aspect of the so-called painting and art. Xiulote, who had not attended Priest school, received an incomplete Priestly education, which was hardly any better. The two seasoned Samurai exchanged glances for a moment before the Head Warrior finally spoke in a complex tone.


    "Your Highness, I have recorded that the painters indeed came from three places... as the Sage said, the first two batches came from the Holy City in the Alliance and the west side of the lake. The third batch of painters came from the Mistec."


    The young King slightly furrowed his brows. He stood up from his seat, turned halfway, and looked at the mural in front of him while masking his changing expressions.


    In the Alliance¡¯s political system, the Holy City, Teotihuacan, had been headed by a branch of the Mexican Royal Family for three to four generations now. This lineage from the Holy City was closely knit and culturally integrated, serving as the most trusted direct descendants of the Alliance and the Lake Capital City. The City-State of Askapozhaleike in the west of Lake Texcoco was an old capital of the Tepanec people. The Tepanec and the Mexica are both of Nava descent, intermarried for generations, and shared beliefs. Under the directive of the Chief Divine, they had merged for half a century and were now fully integrated into the Mexica group. Both City-States were loyal members of the Alliance, responding to calls to arms and obeying commands, considered as "one of their own" within the Alliance.


    The southern Mistec was different. Although subjugated under Montezuma I¡¯s campaigns, the Mistec people had been vassals of the Mexica Alliance for nearly twenty years, paying regular tributes annually. However, the control the Alliance had over the Mistec was still limited to military deterrence and collecting tributes. The Mistec retained a completely independent political system, semi-autonomous foreign powers, and a unique cloud-centered belief system. They were allied with the Zapotecs, subtly resisting the influence and integration by the Alliance.


    "The Mistec people... They are far away, with a long history and a culture and belief system uniquely their own. Indeed, they differ artistically from the various parts of the Alliance."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, regained control of his expressions, and then resumed his seat. He looked at Jatili, not answering the latter¡¯s question but instead asking with a smile,


    "In the presence of a Sage, I ought to seek frank advice. The direct descendants of the Holy City, the backbone in the west of the lake, and the southern vassals, their governance indeed differs across these three. What could the Sage teach me? And how does it relate to the different factions of the Prepetcha?"


    Facing the young King¡¯s inquiry, Jatili smiled slightly. His wrinkles relaxed like waves, his eyes shimmered like lake water, and he spoke loudly as if the wave crests,


    "Your Highness, would you like to hear the truth, or falsehoods?"


    "Naturally, the truth! I seek knowledge from the Sage, and whatever is spoken, I only seek the beneficial aspects. Should it prove advantageous for governance, I shall certainly reward you!"


    "Your Highness¡¯s magnanimity is truly as vast as a bear¡¯s!"


    At this, Jatili loudly expressed his admiration, then continued with a smile,


    "Your Highness, at my age, I no longer seek rewards. I merely hope to do things beneficial for our tribe and citizens¡­ This governance, on the one hand, depends on how the ruler views the Citizens. It involves classifying people into various ranks, the number of people in each rank, their privileges, the Tribute they owe, and how lower-tier individuals can rise up. Then, there are handling famines and disasters; how to react during wars and unrest... These matters are all decided by Your Highness, testing the level of governance, and also depending on the enforcer¡¯s practices."


    Xiulote reflected for a moment and then nodded affirmatively.


    "The people of Prepetcha are my Citizens. They are the foundation of the Kingdom, the green leaves on the lofty Divine Tree. I will hold them in benevolent regard, treating them equally as the Mexica! As for the distinctions among nobility, Samurai, and commoners, and the proportion of taxes, I have my plans, and I shall not oppress the commoners of the Prepetcha."


    "Your Highness, you soar like a mighty eagle, embracing the whole land. The Prepetcha people wish to be your wings!"


    Jatili bowed his head respectfully. Then, with a solemn expression, he earnestly said,


    "Relying on the Akatla Pyramids, heaven and earth are interlinked. The sky watches over the earth, bestowing thunder and nourishing dew; the earth also watches the sky, rising clouds and high mountains in response. The interaction between heaven and earth, another aspect of governance, is how the Citizens view the ruler. The most direct response is how they react to the ruler¡¯s attitude." S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hearing this, a familiar saying surfaced in Xiulote¡¯s mind. He pondered for a moment, and suddenly recalled the Tarasco chief and the old Militia. He spoke somewhat emotionally,


    "Heaven and earth interact, the Monarch and his subjects correspond. If the Monarch regards them as beloved kin, they see the Monarch as dependable parents; if the Monarch regards them as mere weeds, they can naturally treat the Monarch as an adversary."


    At this, Jatili paused, his deep eyes widening as he closely evaluated the young King again before solemnly saying,


    "Your Highness, your compassion is rare, yet it must be judiciously applied, only used where appropriate. The phrase you just said could be spoken by a Poet, could be spoken by the Nobility, but it should not be uttered by a Monarch."


    "Citizens view their rulers just as weeds view the Divine Tree. They observe the colors of the trees, find similarities with themselves, and thus, a closeness is born. This represents the external appearance, customs, and habits of a people."


    "They hear the rustling of the wind through the tree leaves, just like the rustling of blades of grass. This is a similar language, words that can be exchanged, symbols that connect."


    "They follow the natural order, born in spring, flourishing in summer, withering in fall, but only the Divine Tree is evergreen throughout the seasons. This is the law that the people follow, where only the will of the King stands above all."


    "They look up at the towering height of the Divine Tree, finding it reaching into the clouds, a resting place for the Heavenly Divine. This is a common belief, respect for the King, and worship of the divine..."


    "Customs, language, law, belief¡ªall these, your highness, had already been schemed out. From the rumors of the past two years of reform within the Mexica Alliance and the traces laid out by your highness in recent months, I have perceived, your highness, in your heart, a great and clear Divine Tree already exists."


    Upon saying this, the learned elder bore a meaningful smile, and smiled once more.


    "However, when the weeds grow taller and more numerous, they need a new bond. This bond is not visible on the surface but hidden deep within the hearts of people, beneath the gathering of weeds. There must be sprawling roots underground, connecting everyone! They feel the roots of the Divine Tree, trace back to the source of life, thereby realizing that they are the offsprings, naturally detached from the Divine Tree, borne of the same essence. Together they gestate through time, should be considered an entity with the Divine Tree, meant to live and die together!..."


    "Ancient myths will be sealed by the lengthy passage of time, barren hearts will be obscured by blurred history, someone must step forward to tell the heritage to all... In this regard, perhaps this old man can be of some assistance."


    "Roots of connection... an entity... mythology and history... to tell... good, very good! This is exactly the future I hope for!"


    Xiulote paused for a moment, then his spirits lifted. He leaned forward, grasping the aged hands of Jatili, looking earnestly into his eyes.


    "Please, Sage, aid me!"


    In face of the Monarch¡¯s sincere plea for help, a smile finally spread across Jatili¡¯s face. His eyes twinkled with laughter as he once again spoke deeply.


    "The entity your highness hopes for, is it the exquisite mushrooms between the pine trees, or the towering pine trees themselves? Is it for a moment or for generations unchanging?"


    "What I seek is for all eternity and all citizens!"


    The young Monarch answered resoundingly, without hesitation.


    "Good! Then let us talk from ages past, begin the narrative from ancient times, telling a long and credible story. Your highness, do you still remember why you invited this old man here today?"


    "The epic of the Prepetcha people?"


    Xiulote paused, mused aloud.


    "Old books and murals are well preserved, in the stone forts surrounding the palace."


    "Your highness, since this is the case, shall we talk while we walk?"


    Upon hearing this, the young Monarch nodded. He rose steadily, and once again took Jatili¡¯s arm. This time, the learned elder bore a calm smile, quietly allowing the Monarch to assist him. Side by side, they walked towards the back of the hall, where a stone pathway led to the stone forts.


    Bertade, accompanied by several escorts, followed silently behind. Watching the Monarch converse with the Sage, both laughing heartily from time to time, a remarkably harmonious vibe of belated meeting filled the air. The Head Warrior paused briefly, a strange feeling surged through him, then transformed into his silent murmur.


    "The eagle soars high in the sky, drawing the mountain¡¯s gaze and attracting hidden eyes... creatures flock around the jungle¡¯s King. From today on, beside the Monarch will not only stand loyal and brave tigers but also sly and strategic foxes..."


    The group slowly moved further, disappearing at the end of the pathway. A breeze blew through the Palace of Wind, the crisp sound of wind chimes echoing once more within the great hall. The guarding Samurais stood silent and somber, only the brand-new murals on either side remained ancient and solemn.

 Chapter 509 - 249: Heritage Slab, Common Origin Myth!

    The sound of quiet footsteps echoed in the ancient stone fort. They crossed the long-standing stone steps, pushed open the dusty stone doors, entered the expansive stone hall, and stopped before an aged slab of stone.


    Xiulote halted his steps. He glanced at the stone slab in the hall that had withstood the test of time, the wooden-panel murals, and the artifacts of gold, silver, and jade, and spoke with solemnity.


    "Sage Jatili, we have arrived. This is the place in the Royal Palace where the sacred texts are kept."


    Jatili nodded gravely. He moved forward eagerly, extending a trembling hand to gently touch these precious relics as if caressing delicately breakable pottery.


    "The river turtle lives under the pines in the water. As the river turtle grows old, the Divine Tree looms ever taller... since accepting the heritage at the age of twenty-four, I have spent a full thirty-six years in their company! On the night when the Capital City fell, I fled the Royal Palace in haste, thinking I would never see them again..."


    The well-versed elder, rarely losing poise, revealed a tumult of emotions. After careful examination, he turned around and offered an apologetic bow to the lord below with a wry smile.


    "Your Highness, I apologize for the display..."


    Xiulote shook his head gently and returned the bow earnestly.


    "Seeing this, I can only hold you in the highest respect."


    The two exchanged bows, then shared a smile. Jatili then straightened his demeanor. With a composed smile, he led Xiulote to the front of an ancient stone slab.


    "Your Highness, please allow us to start here! You must have heard of the legend of the five Sun Eras. The world was conceived from nothingness, and the gods became the supreme Suns in turn. The world was destroyed by the hands of the gods, the Sun set, and life withered. These cycles of events have, to this day, reached the fifth Sun Era. This first stone slab tells of the four past Eras."


    Xiulote looked at the huge stone slab. It was engraved with four simple and archaic panel drawings, each centering around a sun radiating light. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, the sun being at the center of the stone slab is an entity revered by all tribes under the heavens. To unify all the people under the heavens for all eternity, we must begin with the myth of the Sun, weaving a complete and credible story."


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression turned serious, and he nodded slowly.


    "For all the people, for thousands of eternal seasons... Sage, you understand my intentions! The great undertaking I wish to accomplish can only be aided by you within this Fief!"


    The myth of the five Sun Eras had been circulating for a long time, even among the various Maya tribes in the East, although different tribes had different mythological expressions. For the vastly different tribes of the world, this shared mythological origin might be one of the few places where a consensus could form.


    In the heart of the young King, there was always an ambition as grand as that of the First Emperor. He intended to not only personally craft a vast Empire and drive the transformation of eras but also to meld the various tribes of the Wilderness into an inseparable national whole. This immense process was much like the Han, Zhao, Wei, Chu, Yan, Qi, and Qin during the Celestial Empire¡¯s Warring States period eventually merging together as one Han people.


    To achieve this grand vision, Xiulote had ample ambition, patience, and time. The tribes of the world were physically similar and intermarried with one another. The various tribal cultures had been barbaric for a long time, with no established linguistics and the concept of ethnicity not yet emerged, and even their written language was still in its rudimentary stages. This was the last and best opportunity for integration on this vast, isolated continent, to build a truly unified nation!


    To lay the foundation of this unification, aside from having uniform writing, gauge, religion, and law, it was necessary to start from the source of culture and weave a connecting bond.


    The bond for all the Xia was the lineage of the descendants of Yan and Huang, the Dragon¡¯s progeny, the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, the rituals of Zhou and historical records. Similarly, the Mexica Alliance that conquered the tribes of the world also needed a tall Divine Tree with interconnected roots, a myth of a common origin, to form a solid cultural bond. This myth needed to be inclusive enough, credible enough to be accepted by all tribes and align as closely as possible with known history to withstand scrutiny from future generations.


    It was with such a vision that the young King repeatedly searched in Qinchongcan City, inviting the knowledgeable elder from Prepetcha to come and recount the epics of the lake dwellers¡¯ heritage. After some probing in the great hall, both parties implicitly understood and tacitly agreed with each other.


    Xiulote glanced at the elder¡¯s calm smile and once again carefully observed the stone slab, noting the differences between the Aztec Sun mythology and the Prepetcha Sun mythology.


    The Aztec mythology was inherited from the Toltec people, each Era marked by different symbols of civilization and different deities as the Sun.


    The first four Eras were: the first Era, the era of the four Jaguars, with the primeval Sun God Tezcatlipoca as the deity; the second Era, the era of the four Winds, with the Feathered Serpent Quetzalcoatl; the third Era, the era of the four Rains, with the Rain Divine Tlaloc; the fourth Era, the era of the four Waters, with the river and lake Goddess Xalchiuhtlicue.


    On the stone slab of the Prepetcha heritage, the first Era displays a Jaguar alongside a human holding aloft a torch and Long Spears; the second Era has sweeping winds with a crying rubber tree; the third Era shows vast rains with towering pyramids; the fourth Era has spreading floods with canoes traversing between islands.

 Chapter 510 - 249: Heritage Slab, Common Origin Myth!_2

    And around these murals, many intricate symbols were engraved, faintly depicting the sun, the moon, statues, masks, gold and jade, pottery, corn, turkeys, long spears, shields, flames... and even the dead.


    Xiulote looked intently for a long time and, aside from identifying common elements like the Jaguar, wind, rain, and water, he didn¡¯t gain much. He turned his head and sincerely asked Jatili for guidance.


    "Please, Sage, interpret this and tell me the truth."


    Jatili looked at the ancient murals and smiled leisurely.


    "Your Highness, the Heritage Slab holds only images, the meanings are vague, and interpretations depend solely on one¡¯s mind, adapting to the times. Once mastery over heritage is achieved, priests and sages wield the power of speech. This is how it mostly is across the world... Since Your Highness asks today, this old man will share the true secrets that are passed down orally within our tribe but never outwards."


    "Regarding the four passed Eras, each tribe across the world has its interpretations and distinct durations. In these Eras, following divine beings and symbols, they actually represent the states of our deceased ancestors and ancient sealed civilizations. The further back the Era, the more abstract and vague becomes the mural epics of the tribes, and the symbols bear more similarities. The remote Ages, hard to verify, thus can be corroborated through the commonality in these epics, serving as proof of common origins among the tribes."


    The learned elder, his words loaded with complexity, then stretched out his withered palms, caressing the images from the four Eras.


    "The first Sun Era marks the rise of our forefathers from the jungles. They kindled flame, crafted stone weapons, drove away and tamed beasts, established settlements, and became rulers of the jungle, just like the Jaguar. The specific details of that process are now unknown, and the origins of our forefathers remain elusive. The first Era, akin to the Mexica myth of the original Sun God Tezcatlipoca, represents the world¡¯s impermanence and the night¡¯s wind, elusive and unknowable."


    Xiulote pondered for a long time. His eyes gazed toward the distant northwest, toward the end of the world. Moments later, he solemnly nodded.


    "What the Sage speaks is logical. The first Era is elusive, without historical records, and encompasses all people."


    Jatili¡¯s face showed a smile. He moved his palm, pausing on a rubber tree swaying in the wind.


    "The second Sun Era belongs to the earliest ancestors that all tribes can trace back to¡ªOlmec. ¡¯Olm¡¯ meaning rubber, ¡¯ec¡¯ being the tribe - Olmec, the rubber people¡¯s civilization. Their era dates back two thousand years. Located at the heart of the world, the Olmecs were the first to discover and use rubber, the first to construct grand step pyramids, the first to build towering monolithic palaces, the first to carve sacred sacrifice jade artifacts, and the first to worship the Jaguar and Feathered Serpent Divine."


    "During that era, there might have been many wild tribes, many small settlements, many loose powers. But the most civilized and famous were the Olmec people. Now, all tribes worldwide trace their roots back to the Olmecs. The second Era¡¯s deity was the Feathered Serpent Divine Quetzalcoatl, and wherever the Feathered Serpent faith is found, Olmec influence had reached."


    Be it the Teotihuacan people of the Highlands, the ancient Zapotec people in the jungles, or the Maya people from the distant East, all originated more or less from the Olmec civilization, bathed in the glory of the second Era!"


    "Two or three thousand years ago, that was the era of Ancient Greece and the Western and Eastern Zhou dynasties... Rubber people¡¯s civilization, using rubber tribe."


    Xiulote concentrated in thought, murmuring. His grandfather had once told him stories of the Olmec people. The Totonac people from the eastern sea where the Olmec civilization¡¯s ruins lay had also sent ancient Olmec masks during Aweit¡¯s coronation ceremony.


    "The Olmec people were the brilliant Ancient Greece of Central America, like Luoyi or Chengzhou spreading clan laws, descendants of the Yellow Emperor... descendants of the rubber people..."


    The young king pondered for a moment, his eyes growing brighter. He looked toward Jatili, who also smiled meaningfully.


    "Your Highness, from the Great Lake in the west to the Maya in the East, from the Rainforest in the south to the Highlands in the north, all under heaven originated from the rubber people. This is the primary root unifying all people!"


    Jatili spoke deeply and resonantly, his words carrying the satisfaction of defining ages. Then, he continued moving his fingers, pointing toward the third Era pyramid.


    "The second Era is the origin of all tribes. All parts of the world were originally one entity. It was only at the ending of the Era, after the downfall of the Olmec nation, that they scattered far and wide, forming different branches. The similar yet distinct pyramids found everywhere stand as a testament to the development of these branches!"


    "In the legends of various tribes, differences start appearing in the third Era. A thousand years ago, the Maya from the far East established the Feathered Serpent pyramid in Tikal City; the Teotihuacan people of the northern Highlands built the Sun and Moon pyramids; the ancient Zapotecs of the southern jungles erected the Mount Alban pyramid; and the Western lakeside Loma Alta people constructed the lakeside pyramid. These interconnected pyramids of shared origins, they are the second root system uniting all people!" S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hearing this, the young king¡¯s pupils sharply contracted. He had come from the Sun and Moon pyramids and always held these ancient sites in awe. In this era, both commoners and nobility revered and worshipped these ancient majestic wonders, finding in their breathtaking sights a spiritual home.

 Chapter 511 - 249: Heritage Slab, Common Origin Myth!_3

    "A good statement! The same ancestors, different branches... the pyramid witnesses, uniting all people..."


    Xiulote pondered for a long time, then solemnly nodded. The Third Era was a thousand years ago, roughly during the period of Rome and the two Hans, also the era of Hellenization and Sinicization spreading... Then, he slightly puzzled, looked towards the learned elder.


    "The ancient Gusapoteque? The Loma Alta?"


    "The ancient Gusapoteque are ancestors of the Mistec and the Zapotecs. Their location was roughly in the far southeast, in the middle valleys of Oaxaca. Mount Alban is the green mountain."


    "As for the Loma Alta..."


    Jatili smiled deeply once again.


    "They are actually the ancestors of the Prepetcha, settled on the south side of Lake Cuitzeo, north of the Patzcuaro Lake region. Your Highness¡¯s legions must have passed there when they marched south. Those fortresses by the lakes, many of them are ancient pyramids rebuilt."


    Xiulote, with his hands clasped behind his back, paced back and forth, musing.


    "So it can be said, the different tribes of the world can be assigned to different civilizational branches. The Teotihuacanos venerate the Rain Divine Tlaloc, which indeed matches with the deities of the Third Era in Mexica mythology. Hence, the northern communities, the Mexica, the Otomi, the Tlaxcala, the Vastec... all belong to the Teotihuacan lineage..."


    Upon hearing this, Jatili gently smiled. A flush crossed Xiulote¡¯s face. Since the other was a learned elder, the origins of the Mexica and the Tlaxcala people could not possibly be hidden from him. He continued speaking calmly.


    "The tribes of the west, the Tekos, the Tlapanec, the Prepetcha... all belong to the Loma Alta lineage. The southern tribes, the Mistec, the Zapotecs... the ancient Gusapoteque lineage, and the central Totonac, let them continue as direct descendants of the Olmec."


    The learned elder nodded, smiling and continuing.


    "Thus, all peoples once shared a common ancestor, then branched out into East, South, West, and North. Though their customs may vary, all peoples are essentially one!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote first nodded, then shook his head.


    "No, all peoples share one ancestor, but then split into seven branches. One lives in the far northern wilderness, living a migratory life; one on an island in the Eastern Great Lake, navigating in canoes; and the last one crossed through the distant southern jungle, establishing a kingdom of gold."


    "The far northern wilderness... are you referring to the Canine Descendants?"


    Hearing this, Xiulote smiled without speaking, as Jatili continued to speculate.


    "Integrating the Canine Descendants is both difficult and easy. They establish no culture and venerate force, elusive and hard to locate. Only by thoroughly defeating them and occupying the water sources and farmlands of the northern wilderness can the Canine Descendants be brought under control. Once subdued, though, assimilation is rather quick."


    "Canoes on the Eastern Great Lake... Your Highness speaks of the Taino people, the island dwellers who consume cassava? The Taino are delicate and uncivilized, abundant in tobacco. The lake¡¯s waves are unpredictable, making their island as difficult to find."


    "As for the distant jungles to the south, south of the Maya lands are the forests abundant with jade. Your Highness, where exactly is this golden kingdom you mentioned?"


    The young King smiled, declining to answer. He simply looked towards the fourth Heritage Slab and asked softly.


    "Sage, is the civilization of the Fourth Era a continuation of the various factions from the Third Era?"


    "Your Highness, we may narrate it so, and the people are inclined to believe it as well."


    Jatili¡¯s wrinkles stretched in his smile, resembling a trembling fox.


    "In reality, the Fourth Era is but a few hundred years ago, and the records in various paintings are quite clear. It was an era of erratic cloudbursts, sometimes floods, sometimes droughts. It was also an era of turbulence with northern tribes migrating south. Many who spoke the Nava language, the Canine Descendants, flooded into the Mexican Plateau. They clashed fiercely with native tribes, then quickly integrated, forming new alliances and kingdoms!"


    "Canine Descendants migrating southward, tribes speaking the Nava language..."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression shifted slightly. The Fourth Era coincided with the Five Dynasties and the Song period, accompanied by a global cooling and erratic celestial and climatic changes. It was an era of extensive southern migration by nomadic peoples, an era of massive southern invasions by the Vikings, and also an era of continual southern migration by the Chichimeca Canine Descendants.


    All the tribes speaking the Nava language had actually originated from the Canine Descendants migrating south over several hundred years, merging with the local indigenous groups. The former lords of the Mexican Valley, the Tepanec, those from the source of the Balsas River, the Tlaxcala people, the coastal Totonac to the east, and even the inhabitants of the Lake Region, the Prepetcha, were all tribes speaking the Nava language. The Mexica were the last branch of the Nava Tribe to migrate south to the Mexican Plateau. The Nava-speaking tribes, although linguistically similar and resembling each other in appearance, were actually akin to brothers by blood and were naturally skilled in warfare.


    In contrast, the Otomi, Vastec, Mistec, Zapotecs... used another similar language, inheriting more from ancient civilizations. Naturally, with the ceaseless wars and interaction among the tribes, their languages also permeated each other.


    "Your Highness, the Fourth Era was full of turmoil, symbolized by the Rain Divine. Unpredictable rainfall, disordered agriculture, and the southern migration of the Canine Descendants fiercely impacted the northern regions. The tribes were constantly at war and migrating. If we consider the Canine Descendants part of the same origin, then the Fourth Era was a time when all tribes were reintegrating! And this integration of all tribes is destined to be completed by your hands in this current Fifth Era!"


    "All tribes originating from the same source, evolving separately, then moving towards mutual integration, until they reunify as one. A perfectly self-consistent story, divinely destined. This is the fate of the five eras, capable of truly leading the world, connecting all tribes, unifying the legends of all tribes!"


    Upon saying this, Jatili¡¯s aged face showed signs of excitement. His gaze intensely focused on Xiulote, and the young king too stared back resolutely. Both of their eyes burned with a great fire, eager to blaze through a century across the whole world!


    The learned elder looked on for a long time before calming his emotions and spoke again with solemnity.


    "Your Highness, the Fourth Era left many precise epics. In the Mexican Valley, the Toltec¡¯s kingdom flourished and then declined, ultimately passing on through the hands of the Tepanec to the Mexica. And in the Lake Region were the two successive Urixiu Kingdoms. They perished in the southern migration of the Canine Descendants, revived, perished again, and then arose the establishment and flourishing of the Tarasco Kingdom!"


    "These once powerful kingdoms perished not only due to the impact of the Canine Descendants moving south but also due to internal factors. And the essential factor is right here!"


    As he spoke, Jatili took a few strides forward. He extended his hand forcefully and pressed it firmly down on the second adjacent Heritage Slab.


    S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 512 - 250 Heritage Slab, Rise and Fall of the Kingdom

    ```


    "Eh?... What is this..."


    Listening to Jatili¡¯s serious words, Xiulote stepped forward two paces and looked to the second slab.


    The slab¡¯s imagery was simple yet clear. With just a glance, one could see a vast expanse of dark clouds in the sky, from which countless black lines extended down, like endless rain pouring. Below where the rain fell, there were boundless wavy lines, resembling a vast Great Lake. Among the lines, some small islands peaked out, and at the center, there were people in canoes. The crowd consisted of small figures dressed as Nobility, Samurai, and commoners. They were lifting up a lavishly dressed adult and together throwing him into the lake!


    The young King gazed at the scene for a moment. Many symbols, including the sun, clouds, water, earth, maize, sacrifices, death, and destruction, were engraved around the image. And the scene itself always evoked a sense of familiarity in him, bringing many things to mind. He mused and asked,


    "Is this... the Great Flood? Sacrifices?"


    Jatili smiled and nodded.


    "Exactly! Your Highness might guess, who is being sacrificed?"


    "Lavishly dressed, and it¡¯s an adult depicted. It must be a prominent Divine Descendant Nobility."


    "Haha, correct. It is the Prince from the Kingdom of the Lake that followed the Urixiu Kingdom!"


    "What! The Prince from the previous Kingdom of the Lake?"


    Xiulote¡¯s face showed surprise. Sacred sacrifices sometimes used Divine Descendant Nobility as sacrifices, but usually, these sacrifices came from captives or rebellious subjects. If a Prince of the kingdom were to be chosen as a sacrifice, it could only prove one thing... He looked toward the learned elder.


    "The King of the succeeding Urixiu Kingdom lost control of the nation? This is an omen of doom!"


    "Your Highness is wise!"


    Jatili said with a laugh of praise. Then he became serious, earnestly explaining,


    "This happened two hundred years ago, considered the end of the Fourth Era and the beginning of the Fifth Era. In the epic records, at the end of the Fourth Era, there was a rain that persisted for 99 days! Torrential rain cascaded down from the sky and also gathered from the surrounding high mountains. At its peak, Lake Patzcuaro rose nearly ten men high, and Cuitzeo Lake rose six men high. The lower elevation of Chapala Lake, in fact, rose by the height of a dozen men or more!"


    "Water levels rising ten men high! The waters would directly inundate the base of the city of Qinchongcan!"


    Xiulote was filled with shock upon hearing this. Even in this era, when people were shorter on average, ten men high would be about 15 meters. Without dikes surrounding Lake Patzcuaro, a rise in water level by fifteen meters would expand the lake¡¯s area several times over!


    "Indeed! In that era, the city of Qinchongcan was not yet the center of the Kingdom of the Lake. The heart of the subsequent Urixiu Kingdom was on the western shore of Lake Patzcuaro, near the Takuro Plains. That was the resting place, where birds fell from the sky."


    The learned elder looked at His Highness with a meaningful smile.


    "Your Highness, you have fought there before against the Prince with Feathers from Chapala. That place is now a prosperous village of farmland, and before that, a lush wetland meadow. And even earlier, beneath the mud brought by those floods, lie the ruins of an ancient kingdom. The greatest threat to the Lake Region, the primary reason for the downfall of ancient kingdoms, was the flood!"


    "Two hundred years ago, the Great Flood swept over the lands of the lake! The water levels of the lakes in the Lake Region rose and even connected to each other, forming a vast Great Lake. Elevated hills and peaks became different-sized islands; lower valleys and basins became part of the Great Lake. And when the fertile lakeside farmland and the rich lowland villages were submerged by the floodwaters, the unrest within the Kingdom of the Lake could no longer be contained."


    "The gradually rising water levels slowly submerged the densely populated lakeside communities, also forcing those in the lowlands to migrate. These areas were once the essence of the Kingdom of the Lake, home to the largest population! Powerful Nobility lost their fiefs, and numerous Samurai and commoners lost their farmland. They uncharacteristically united and moved toward the unaffected Highlands."


    "However, those lands already had owners. Intractable conflicts quickly arose and soon turned into war! The Nobility from the lowlands and the Highlands fought to the death for land to live on. The surging floods hindered the kingdom¡¯s transportation, also severing the army¡¯s movements in all directions. Amidst the flooding, the King lost the power to rule over the entire situation! Even he was forced to relocate with the royal family of the Capital City."


    "Following that, the sudden decrease of farmland and the heavy downpour led to almost a complete crop failure that year! Where the rainwater gathered, loosely kept barns would also be inundated, causing the stored grain to quickly mold. Famine almost immediately followed, striking with the footsteps of the flood and lasting even longer than the flood itself!"


    ```


    "The following years were utter chaos. The existing social order crumbled, and might made right. Nobles slaughtered each other in battles over the highland islands, staining the Great Lake with blood! Samurai and militia also butchered each other for the scarce food that was necessary for survival. They pillaged villages, attacked the nobility¡¯s fiefs, and even executed nobles in order to plunder manors stocked with reserves!"


    "Soon, even the divine authority of the King came into question. Influential nobles from the highlands publicly challenged his legitimacy, claiming that it was the King¡¯s offense to the deities that had brought about the disaster! With the help of those harboring ulterior motives, such rumors spread quickly, rapidly fanning the discontent amongst the populace in the wake of the flood. Priests, too, became divided amongst themselves, their voices growing increasingly opposed to the King, and they gradually aligned themselves with the local power-holding nobility."


    "The Urixiu King was eventually forced to sacrifice his own Prince in Lake Patzcuaro in order to temporarily appease the fury of the nobles and samurai. However, when a monarch loses both the support of his people and his power, such actions only serve to further expose his vulnerability. Within a few years, the King was poisoned by the nobles. Even though the floodwaters had receded by then, and the lowlands could once again be cultivated, the collapsed order of the kingdom was gone beyond recovery!"


    With just a few words, Jatili vividly depicted the downfall of the previous kingdom before the young ruler. Unable to contain himself, Xiulote walked over to the window. He stared at the torrential rains of the monsoon season as they fell upon Lake Patzcuaro, gazed upon the submerged fertile lands by the lake, and fell into deep thought.


    "Heavy rain brings floods, floods gather, raising the surface of the lake, submerging basins and valleys. There¡¯s a need for water management projects... Similar basin topography can be found in the Dujiangyan of Sichuan, the dikes of Lake Texcoco..."


    Xiulote murmured to himself, once again elevating the significance of the water management projects in his heart.


    The lifeline of the Classical Kingdoms was the water system, the agricultural areas along rivers and lakes. Especially in Central America, where rainfall was intense and erratic, and precipitation coincided with the heat, just a few droughts or floods were enough to destroy a civilization. He remembered the tales told by the Mayan merchants from Tikalo, how hundreds of years ago the end of the Maya Golden Age and the destruction of the Divine Capital Tikal were inextricably linked to the frequent droughts and floods of the fourth era.


    The young ruler pondered for a moment before lifting his head again. He had a rough guess in his heart yet still asked.


    "Two hundred years ago, the great flood shattered the order of the Kingdom of the Lake. What then, was the end of this lake-centered kingdom?"


    Jatili looked at Xiulote, eyes twinkling with amusement.


    "Your Highness, you surely already know. But look here!"


    The knowledgeable elder took two steps forward and once again placed his hand on the third slab.


    The third slab was a large and detailed painting. A majestic Divine Eagle soared in the sky at the center, and the grand sun rose gently from the East. Accompanied by the sun, the Divine Eagle watched over the vast earth below. On the ground, a procession came from the northwest along the river, with the leader wearing a Divine Crown adorned with the spread wings of a mighty eagle, standing out tall and prominent. On either side of their path were the Lake Region nobility, samurai, and commoners with tributes in hand, welcoming them. Together, they settled by the lake, building houses, towns, and the towering city of Akatla with blue-stone.


    Xiulote approached to take a closer look. The painting strokes were ancient and worn, yet they conveyed a certain dynamic vitality. Surrounding the image were various patterns of the Divine Eagle, hummingbirds, crocodiles, feathers, turkeys, cacao... and other motifs. These familiar details also appeared on the enemy¡¯s flags on the battlefield to the west! As for the content of the painting...


    The young King spoke in a serious tone.


    "The original murals in the great hall of the Palace of Wind?"


    "Exactly! Your Highness, the terrifying and unpredictable climate also forced the northern peoples to migrate to the south. The Chichimeca Canine Descendants from the north came migrating southwards; they conquered the chaotic and splintered Urixiu Kingdom along their way. Though their numbers were few, their ferocity and prowess in battle were unmatched! The old nobility had already suffered heavy losses in the civil strife. They were either mercilessly annihilated or prostrated themselves in surrender. Warriors and the common people alike were tired of the prolonged conflict and yearned for a unified order, and they surrendered to the strongest power one after another."


    "The army of the Divine Eagle, with its unstoppable force, marched eastward! They accepted surrenders, ennobled the new elite, and their power grew ever stronger. The descendants of the Divine Eagle traveled through the Chapala Lake Region, across the Takuro Plains, until they reached the gates of Qinchongcan City!"


    Jatili¡¯s voice carried a lyrical tone, laced with emotional undulations.


    "There was no question about the final outcome, but the path that led to it is worth exploring. The new Tarasco Kingdom was established on the fertile soil amid the lakes. The south-migrating Chichimeca Canine Descendants, carrying the ambition and vigor of the northern highlands, founded their capital southeast of Lake Patzcuaro, in the highlands safe from the flood, Qinchongcan City. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Drawing from the experiences of the kingdom¡¯s downfall, the successive Kings of Tarasco implemented a series of innovative measures! They centralized the monarch¡¯s power, established new strongholds directly under their control; they managed the nobility of the kingdom, governed the conquered land; they sought the majesty of the deities, and took control of the priests¡¯ authority; they even integrated with the Urixiu people of the lake lands, giving rise to the new Prepetcha people!"


    With these words, the learned elder bowed his head in a solemn salutation.


    "Your Highness, allow me to elaborate! These strategies have proved effective over the past one or two hundred years and have been verified one by one. They will surely benefit your governance in the future!"

 Chapter 513 - 251: Heritage Slab, Marital Alliances and Enfeoffment

    "Very good, excellent indeed!"


    In the fleeting dreams that fluttered like summer rain or autumn breeze, he gazed out at the far reaches of time. Changes through the ages ebbed like a retreating sea, the epic saga of bygone kingdoms hammered at the heart of the king¡ªawakening and enlightening him¡ªuntil Jatili¡¯s voice boomed like thunder, snapping Xiulote out of his reverie on the dynastic shifts. Smiling, he regarded the sage elder, his hands warmly lifting him.


    "Only by reflecting on the kingdom¡¯s epic as if it were a bronze mirror, can we clearly discern the rise and fall of the future! Please speak freely, sage, and offer me your counsel and insight!"


    Jatili paused briefly, admiration flashing across his face. Then, he rose tall and walked back to the fourth slab.


    "Your Highness, please take a look!"


    Xiulote peered closely; the fourth panel also featured a trio of images.


    The central panel depicted a scene of homage. Under the supreme sun, a monarch with a Divine Eagle helmet, his presence commanding and stature grand, sat centrally on the throne. In one hand a long spear, in the other a scepter, he was receiving his subjects¡¯ homage. Below him, immediately, were his bowing ministers, starkly divided into two groups. On the left, they held weapons, clad in beast-helmets and war clothes, with javelins and bows slung on their backs. On the right, they held scepters, donned in splendid robes and traditional broad hats of the Lake Region, with shields bearing familial crests on their backs. Further out still were the kneeling, homage-paying masses¡ªdense and diminutive like countless prostrate ants.


    The youthful monarch surveyed briefly¡ªthe warriors on the left clearly closer to the Divine Eagle. In such stern political artwork, differences in distance and size symbolized the magnitude of power and status. After a moment¡¯s reflection, he murmured softly to himself,


    "This scenario... it resembles the current state of the fief quite a bit!"


    Jatili nodded with a smile.


    "Highness, this central panel depicts the coronation ceremony of the first Divine Eagle monarch, Tarasco¡¯s first Cazonci, Tariacuri. After a decade of conflict, Chieftain Tariacuri had finally subdued the tribes within the lake, taking control of Patzcuaro and Chapala Lake Regions and establishing his kingdom there, with the capital in Qinchongcan City.


    Shortly after the kingdom¡¯s rise, there were two groups of nobility under Tariacuri¡¯s command. One was the Nava military nobility that had followed him southwards, and the other was the Urixiu traditional nobility that submitted subsequently. Both groups comprised tribesmen, warriors, and lands. The Nava were adept in combat, had followed for a longer period, and accrued more military achievements, hence their noticeably higher status, though they were fewer in number. In contrast, the traditional nobility of the Lake Region was more numerous and well-rooted, albeit they submitted later.


    After Tariacuri¡¯s ascension, the first major issue was the division of lands. The Nava military nobility coveted the fertile lands of the Lake Region and hoped for fiefs near the prosperous capital. These lands were partly under the direct control of the royal family, partly held by the traditional nobility of the Lake Region. With unmatched prestige, the lands directly under the royal family were coveted by none. Thus, the Nava nobility began a dispute with the traditional nobility over the lands, soon escalating as each side rallied their factions. Accustomed to using force, the Nava nobility quickly mobilized their tribal warriors."


    On hearing this, Xiulote nodded silently. The military nobility¡¯s intrinsic craving for lands and a monarch¡¯s need to satisfy these demands to harness the strength of mighty legions were apparent. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After the Mexica legion conquered the lake, the first order of business was also the division of lands. This western campaign lasted just over a year, the nobles and warriors had not accumulated enough military achievements for substantial rewards. The young king, relying on his authority, deliberately suppressed the number of great nobles and the size of their fiefs. Even so, the land to be awarded was nearly two million acres, constituting 15-20% of the cultivated land in the entire fief.


    Tariacuri, having campaigned for over a decade, surely had several times more military nobles than the Mexica Northern Army. Lacking the strength of the Mexica Alliance, he could not carry out a planned large-scale purge of the old nobility during national wars. The situation he faced then must have been far more challenging than my current one.


    With this thought, Xiulote looked towards the other two panels.


    The panel on the left depicted a wedding scene, the Divine Eagle monarch dominating the top of the image. Witnessed by the Divine Eagle, a newlywed couple stood side by side, their joined hands tightly clasped. The groom on the left, a Nava Hunter carrying a short bow, was dressed in warrior clothes and cradled a wild deer. The bride on the right, a lake region fisherwoman holding a fishing net, was dressed in noble attire with a large fish cradled in her arms. Upon closer inspection, one could see the groom was larger and taller, signifying a slightly higher status.


    "The integration of newcomers with local tribes is a primary challenge every conqueror king must first address."


    The sage elder looked at Xiulote, his eyes twinkling with mirth.


    "Tariacuri, the first king of Tarasco, to tackle this issue, personally arranged and presided over the large-scale intermarriage between the two tribes, eliminating the barriers between them. Nearly all the Nava nobility were required to marry into the local Urixiu nobility, and it was mandated that they marry hereditary, legitimate children of excellence! Moreover, the ordinary Nava warriors were required to take wives from among the local commoners."


    "In this ancient panel, the deer symbolizes the Nava nobility, and the large fish represents the nobility of the Lake Region. Their union heralded the birth of the first generation of Prepetcha elites, the backbone of the burgeoning kingdom! Legend has it that the first king Tariacuri was blessed by the gods and lived to the age of 80. He ruled the nascent kingdom for decades with his formidable prestige and steadfast patience, achieving the redistribution of noble lands among the newer two generations and establishing a stable factional balance.


    Deer meat always remained a rarer and more precious delicacy than fish. In the two hundred years of succession, the merged Prepetcha people no longer distinguished between the tribes and gradually developed a new perception that "nobility eat deer meat" and "commoners eat river fish." Therefore, this meaningful painting was no longer mentioned."


    After hearing this narration, Xiulote sincerely voiced his admiration.


    Effectively ruling a piece of land often proved more difficult than conquering it. As the leader of the southward-migrating Nava Tribe, Tariacuri possessed enough courage to actively promote the fusion of the two tribes. He spent his lifetime molding the new Prepetcha people, which, compared to some monarchs who rigidly clung to ethnic distinctions, showcased his long-term visionary wisdom.


    "The population of Prepetcha tribes in the Lake Region numbers in the hundreds of thousands, while the conquering Mexica legion counts only twenty thousand. To establish a stable reign of the kingdom, large-scale intermarriage between Mexica samurai and Prepetcha civilians must also be implemented as a national policy!"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and made a resolution in secret. He slowly nodded, then looked again toward the right-hand pattern.


    The pattern on the right depicted several groups of nobility and samurai on long journeys. At the center was still the radiant Divine Eagle King. The king¡¯s feet were upon the grand capital city, his eyes like an eagle¡¯s, sweeping over the lands far and wide. There, nobles traveled in different directions, also bearing various banners.


    The young King looked at the coat of arms on the banners. To the north were banners with "Crocodile," "Turkey," to the west were "Feathers," "Sky," and "Silver," to the south were "Zicao," "Palm," and to the east were "Red Falcon," "Black Panther." Xiulote mused for a few breaths and then asked confidently.


    "Enfeoffing tribal chieftains, guarding the borders in all directions?"


    Jatili smiled, his gaze profound.


    "Exactly! The new kingdom was established with the greatest achievements from the Nava military nobility. Those powerful great nobility each possessed a tribe, commanding hundreds to thousands of tribal warriors. They longed for vast fertile fiefs. However, the predecessor monarch, not wishing to repeat the mistakes of strong branches and weak roots of the Urixiu Kingdom, decided to directly incorporate the entire Lake Patzcuaro region. He relied on his own prestige and the wisdom of the House of Hummingbird, enfeoffing the powerful military nobility across the borders of the kingdom."


    "Crocodile nobles guarded the vast northern rivermouths, Zicao nobles suppressed the bustling southern river banks, while nobles from the royal family who were Red Falcons controlled the perilous eastern mountains. Then, the far-flung, prosperous ancestral land of the Chapala Lake Region, was governed jointly by three Nava nobility. These powerful military nobility, when enfeoffed to the borderlands, no longer posed a threat to the central royal power. The great nobility gained vast territories for their free development, using their military prowess to subjugate unwilling border tribes, yet also faced continual military challenges, dependent on strong support from the central Lake Region. Over two hundred years, the borderland great nobility continually expanded the kingdom¡¯s living space, spreading the kingdom¡¯s influence far and wide."


    The sage paused. Seeing the young king¡¯s slight shaking of the head, he said with a smile.


    "Your Highness, the speed of messengers is limited, and there are no fast roads outside the city. The direct control of the center is inherently limited to the rapidly accessible Lake Region within a few hundred miles. Enfeoffment at the frontier has always been a common practice across the world. Many Nava great nobility, seeking comfort, actually prefer not to leave the rich core Lake Region for the incessant skirmishes at the border.


    In the process of enfeoffment, to urge the real power nobility to depart, the first family head of the House of Hummingbird exerted great efforts. He showed rare wisdom among Nava nobility and became the first Chief Minister of the kingdom. Thereafter, all successive Chief Ministers were outstanding members of the House of Hummingbird. Hummingbird thrived alongside Divine Eagle, intertwined in success and decline.


    As the kingdom developed, the power of the borderland great nobility began to inflate. The duties of the Chief Ministers also evolved from integrating the directly governed Lake Patzcuaro region and supporting military actions at the frontier to balancing the powers of the borderland nobility. This Chief Minister, Jinjinni, served three monarchs. He assisted in controlling the ninety large villages of the Lake Region, personally led campaigns against the Tekos people for decades, and effectively suppressed the northern Crocodile Clan, maintaining balance among the three houses of Chapala..."


    Xiulote tilted his head up, staring at the pattern of enfeoffment, yet his mind envisioned the vast expanse of the North and South American continents.


    With an ample supply of cheap metal tools, large-scale road construction could be undertaken. With advancements in ships and the future introduction of Old World horses, the directly controlled area by the ruling center could significantly expand, perhaps by multiples or even tenfold. The entire realm of Central America could fall under the direct control of the future empire. However, this speed of communication enhancement through messengers would be far from sufficient to cover the vast North American continent, let alone reach the distant lands of South America.


    To maximally extend the empire¡¯s influence and compete with the European colonizers for dominance in the New World, it was imperative to integrate the indigenous tribes of the Americas thoroughly. Military enfeoffment in the frontier was inevitable, and even more remote areas needed the spread of faith quickly, the ennoblement of local chieftains, and their inclusion in a tributary system similar to the Celestial Empire!


    "To harbor the world in one¡¯s heart is like bearing a great weight on one¡¯s shoulders. Every step taken by a King is as if watched by the masses, altering the footsteps of an era. A true King must have a resolute will, as strong and pristine as steel and jade, and meticulous thoughts, as if treading on thin ice!"


    The young King sighed softly. His face displayed a solemnity uncommon for his age.


    "My future path is not only to shine brightly upon the world but also laden with great responsibility and a long road ahead!"

 Chapter 514 - 252: Heritage Slab, Two-element Third Level

    The abrupt downpour gradually ceased, leaving the earth profound and serene, with only the flowing streams merging into the Great Lake. As the clouds in the sky slowly dispersed, sunlight streamed through the gaps, piercing through the translucent holes to fall upon the Stone Hall. The pure light shone upon the ancient slabs, igniting the tales of past kingdoms in the heart of the King.


    Xiulote gazed at the dust-covered Heritage Slab, silent and still. In the ancient Stone Hall, void of wind, the breaths of only a handful of people decided the paths of tens or even hundreds of millions.


    The learned elder observed the contemplative young monarch, a sharp light twinkling in his eyes. And a few steps behind, the Head Warrior was silently watching him. It wasn¡¯t until Xiulote made a gesture to continue that Jatili moved toward the rear of the hall.


    "Your Highness, this fifth slab is also a set of two paired images. It was personally drawn by a sage from the Royal Family more than a hundred years ago, and it tells of the governance system of the Kingdom in its early days. In simple terms, it is a dual three-tier system!"


    "The so-called dual system refers to the two governing centers of the Royal Family, which evolved from two ancient holy sites of the Lake Region at the founding of the Kingdom. Religion is a tool that commands the hearts of people and cloaks the ruler in divine authority. The Tarasco Royal Family has done a great deal in this regard. If you have the patience, there will be slabs dedicated to this later on."


    Xiulote nodded in affirmation and respectfully performed a salute.


    "The words of the Sage are like rain after a long drought, greatly beneficial to me. I wish to treat you with the courtesy due to a teacher, and I humbly ask that you share your wisdom without reservation!"


    "It is an old man¡¯s honor to be heeded by Your Highness, and it is the blessing of all people."


    Jatili stepped aside slightly, avoiding the King¡¯s salute, and then reciprocated with a subject¡¯s propriety.


    "Enlightened by divine wisdom, Your Highness, I dare not presume to be a teacher... I am but an old turtle in the lake, hoping only to repay the pond that nurtured me in my final years. To touch the Divine Tree with my own hands would be the highest honor!"


    Hearing the Sage¡¯s words, Xiulote reflected for a moment, understanding in his heart. The governance of the fief could not be separated from the support of the Prepetcha elites. Compared to the generals who commanded armies, officials capable of managing state affairs were even rarer and more valuable! He firmly grasped Jatili¡¯s arm, affirming clearly.


    "The great affairs of the fief involve all peoples and parts, and we cannot do without the help of the Sage. The same applies to the great matters of the future world. Sage, I desire to establish a Central Official office, set up counties and prefectures, abolish the autonomy of Nobility, and take charge of all political affairs of the fief. And you could serve as Chief Minister of Policy, participating in state affairs, responsible for the establishment of national laws, compiling historical and literary works, and overseeing the education of the populace!"


    Hearing the position of Chief Minister of Policy, a flash of surprise crossed Jatili¡¯s eyes, which then turned into a sparkling smile. He stepped back and once more prostrated himself respectfully, paying homage.


    "Your Highness, the river turtle emerges from the mud pond to gaze upon the sunlight in the sky, illuminating the patterns on its shell. Your Highness is a born King, and this old minister wishes to ride on Your Highness¡¯ wings, accompanying you to soar high!


    Your Highness aims for all parts of the world, to unify mountains and rivers and all peoples. And what this old minister seeks is to sort out a lifetime of learning for you, letting uniform doctrine spread throughout the world!... I will exert my utmost effort, and I shall not fail your heavy trust!"


    "The study under royal officials... the dismissal of numerous schools... The ambition of the Sage is no weaker than mine by a single bit!"


    Xiulote¡¯s thoughts raced, and with a thoughtful smile, he uttered an enigmatic sentence. From this point on, the formal relationship between monarch and minister was confirmed, and the wise elder leaped into the very core of the decision-making circle of the fief. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A short distance away, the usually stoic face of the Head Warrior showed envy for the first time. It was not the official post granted to Jatili that he envied, but his profound knowledge, deep wisdom, the ability to truly understand the complexities of governance, and to resonate with the divine-inspired monarch in thought.


    The young monarch graciously accepted Jatili¡¯s salute, then lifted the robust Sage.


    "Please continue, Chief Minister."


    Jatili nodded and confidently walked back in front of the fifth slab.


    The first image on the slab showed two rows of Akatla Pyramids, surrounded by countless worshiping people. The first row had five pyramids, with their height declining from the center to the sides, looking very familiar; they were the House of Wind in the Capital City. The second row featured three Great Pyramids, with a separate small pyramid on each side.


    "Your Majesty, the dual governance of the Tarasco Kingdom, the ancient two holy lands, is located slightly north of the Lake Region, in Qinchongcan Capital, and slightly south, in Ihuatzio City! The Predecessor Monarch established the capital in Qinchongcan, both considering its location on the Highlands, which could fend off floods, and its significance in the hearts of the people of the Lake Region."


    "Your Majesty, just as the magnificent Lake Capital City of the Mexica Alliance can be divided into the political center, the main city of Tenochtitlan, and the trade center, the North City of Tlatelolco City. The political center of the Tarasco Kingdom is in the grand Qinchongcan City, while the trade center is in the prosperous Ihuatzio City.


    "In the recent century, with the exploitation of southern copper mines, Ihuatzio City, with its wide-open terrain and excellent location, has become the center of copper trade in the world. The Royal Family has a large garrison of court Nobility there, firmly controlling the trade coming in and out of Ihuatzio City. And the strong control of obsidian, copper, Cotton Armor, food, and salt is another effective way to constrain local Nobility...


    "Your Majesty, Ihuatzio City suffered significant damage during the westward conquest, but it is worth rebuilding for the Kingdom!"


    Xiulote watched for a moment and nodded lightly. He had led his army in capturing the unwalled Ihuatzio City and had some recollection of its several pyramids. But at that time, with the great battle imminent and the march hurried, he had just vigorously collected a group of Craftsmen and miners but had not deeply inspected and understood the city.

 Chapter 515 - 252: Heritage Slab, Two-element Third Level_2

    "The Chief spoke well, Ihuatzio City holds both religious and economic significance. Therefore, I will rebuild Ihuatzio, transform the pyramid into the main Temple, expand the marketplace, and further control the trade within the Fief!"


    The elderly scholar smiled slightly and moved his finger to point at the second painting.


    The second painting was more complex, depicting several finely dressed adults. They were laid out in layers like a pyramid, divided into three levels. At the very top was a Monarch wearing a Divine Eagle crown. His figure was extremely tall and striking, holding a Divine Staff and Long Spears, occupying one-third of the entire scroll.


    "The so-called three levels refer to the hierarchy of the Tarasco Kingdom. Similar to the Mexica Alliance, they are broadly divided into the King, Nobility, and Samurai, and do not include the ordinary commoners. Naturally, at the very top, is the King of Tarasco, the ruler of the land in the lake, the clan leader of the Royal Family, Cazonci."


    "In the Prepetcha language, the King Cazonci is also called Camacha cupeni, which means governor, the one who groups, the one who manages others. He has the authority to administer the entire Kingdom¡¯s people, whether they are Nobility, Samurai, or commoners. He also has the right to determine everyone¡¯s status!"


    At this point, Xiulote¡¯s eyes lit up.


    This title implied the concept of an autocratic Monarch, similar to the true "King" in the Huaxia philosophy. And, as part of the Nava language family, in the Mexica language, the "Great Tlatoani" merely had the concept of a major decision-maker. Though he holds the highest authority in speech, he does not possess absolute power over all the subordinate entities. It seems that the centralization of the Tarasco Kingdom is indeed higher than that of the Alliance and the Prepetcha people¡¯s compliance with central authority is likely to surpass the various tribes of the Alliance.


    "Chief, I am quite interested in these governing terms of the Prepetcha language. Could you speak a bit more about their deeper meanings?"


    Jatili paused for a moment, then nodded with a smile.


    "Then this old servant will speak a few more words. Your Majesty, the Central Government you just mentioned is called Camachacupecha in the Prepetcha language. It means that those who have the force, the powerful ones, come together to command the ordinary commoners. They then humbly establish friendships with friendly strong parties and harshly conquer and deal with hostile ones."


    And the authority of the Government is called Ch¡¯echesiqua. It refers to the feeling that instills fear, and this fear can remain over time, repeatedly evoking it.


    The ordinary Nobility is called Urechadanini, which means the ones who speak first, the ones with the power of speech. The ordinary commoners are called Haripantatani, which means the owned, the governed..."


    The young King pondered deeply the social philosophies and group characteristics hidden within these everyday words.


    Language and writing are important because of the cognitive concepts contained within, which subtly influence the user¡¯s ideas from minute details. Looking across world history, ethnic groups with similar languages and writings tend to be consistent in certain traits. And when it comes to modern times, the first step of national awakening is often the creation or strengthening of a script unique to the ethnic group.


    "The Government is a union of the strong to dominate the commoners, unite with or oppose other strong parties... Authority is the fear of violence... Nobility are the decision-makers, commoners are the subjects..."


    Xiulote frowned slightly and murmured to himself.


    "These ideas are similar to those of the Mexica language. This means that in the traditional Nava language recognition, there is no concept of benevolence and trust for rulers. The governance of the state is maintained by violence, and the commoners have almost no rights, the whole society is in a typical slave system era." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It seems that when I have spare time, I should still recall the concepts from the times with similar productivity in the Celestial Empire, especially Legalism¡¯s rule of law and Confucianism¡¯s benevolence. Then I¡¯ll convene Priests and Scholars to appropriately modify and handle them, and introduce them to the relatively primitive culture of the Fief. The mixture of Confucianism¡¯s facade with Legalism¡¯s backbone, the combined use of Kingly and Hegemonic tactics is the core that allows the vast Celestial Empire to maintain a stable rule..."


    Myriad thoughts flashed through the young King¡¯s mind. For him, governing was still a continuous exploration and practice. What he could rely on were the stories that had emerged in history and the trajectory of future development. He would reference and grope his way until he carved out a unique path for the Celestial Empire of America!


    The learned elder watched Xiulote¡¯s expression, pausing at just the right moment. When the King signaled again, he smiled and continued.


    "The second level of the Kingdom are the various Nobles and High Priests. Your Majesty, please look at these personages dressed differently. The order in which they are arranged symbolizes their status, and the items in their hands represent different powers."


    In the forefront is Ivachi, Royalty, holding a Scepter. This usually represents those of the highest standing, Lords who are closest in blood to the King. Indeed, the origin of Ihuatzio City¡¯s name is because it was first awarded to the closest branches of the Royal Family. And when King Aweit left, he took nearly all of the Royal Nobles with him.


    The next is Carrachapacacha, the Nobles with real power, holding weapons. It is close to the term used for the Central Official, meaning local enforcers. They control the local Samurai and Militia, managing regional order. Although their titles are hereditary, they are subject to the influence and interference of the Royal Family. If the direct sons are unable to independently sort out their standing, they must turn to the authoritative Royal Family for adjudication.

 Chapter 516 - 252: Heritage Slab, Two-element Third Level_3

    During this western campaign, nine out of ten of the effective nobles from the north and the Lake Region had not survived, while the southern effective nobility remained largely intact. For them, the central Kingdom decided whether to absorb or dispose of them, or take conditional actions, and these decisions were all up to the King. But it was best after the autumn harvest."


    The sage did not speak for the old nobility; he simply made a detached suggestion. Xiulote nodded, having plans of his own for the arrangement of the South.


    "Moving forward, the Kanchalicha, the frontier military nobility, wielding weapons and shields, wearing beast helmets. Originally, they were military chiefs during wars, but later evolved into military nobility constantly waging wars in the frontier regions. Their titles passed down without interruption, their fiefs were remote, and their positions were more independent, with inheritance rights seldom interfered with by the central authority.


    Of course, like the Crocodile and the Feathers, those from the great nobility of the Tarasco Kingdom, who supported the survival of the kingdom, their political status was almost the same as Ivachi, yet their autonomy far exceeded it.


    In the western campaign, the military nobility were conscripted on the spot by the Kingdom to stand at the very front lines against the Alliance¡¯s two corps. They suffered the heaviest losses in the war, either falling on the battlefield or becoming prisoners."


    Images of gruesome battles surfaced in Xiulote¡¯s mind. He nodded slowly, his expression unchanged, indicating his understanding. Jatili continued, moving his fingers to point at a figure dressed in priestly attire, holding a gemstone-laden divine staff.


    "Petamuti, the High Priest. In the early Kingdom, religious authority still held considerable influence. The high priests from various regions also controlled tribes and samurai. They possessed their own lineage systems, and even had their own temple schools.


    However, the Divine Eagle Royal Family, learning from the experiences of previous kingdoms, intentionally suppressed the priests¡¯ influence. The Royal Family claimed the realm by force, taking direct control of two sacred religious sites and intervening in the selection of priests. Over more than a hundred years, the originally independent priestly power gradually became vassals of the Royal Family. After the war of the western campaign, very few of the kingdom¡¯s high priests remained."


    A glint sparked in Xiulote¡¯s eyes. The blue flames of the House of Wind Temple were unforgettable. Deep down, he favored the secularization of religion. However, he had entered the Alliance¡¯s upper echelons as a Black Wolf Priest, and his grandfather was the supreme priestly leader. His background limited his choices. Moreover, together with the elder¡¯s will, he ultimately steered the Alliance¡¯s reforms toward a path of theocracy.


    "Apart from these three, from the middle period onward, the Kingdom gave birth to a new type of nobility."


    The sage looked at the Kingdom of the Lake¡¯s priestly ruler for a moment, then decided against commenting further on the topic of priests. He moved his finger from the High Priest to the last figure, which was depicted slightly newer, a bejeweled noble holding a drawing tablet.


    "Achacha, the court¡¯s advisory nobility. Most were by-blows of the effective nobility, inheriting knowledge but unable to receive fiefs. The Royal Family absorbed them as bureaucratic officials, overseeing directly governed towns and villages, managing urban trade taxes. They had no fiefs, and their incomes came entirely from the Royal Family¡¯s support. These individuals were the pillars of the Royal Family¡¯s centralization, the true administrators of the kingdom. During the Alliance¡¯s western campaign, many of these individuals survived but lost their original positions."


    Xiulote pondered in silence, not responding. Unlike the civil official system of the Celestial Empire at this time, this was a fledgling form of the traditional nobility system.


    The degree of centralization in the Tarasco Kingdom was higher, naturally requiring more administrative bureaucrats. Unlike the Alliance, the kingdom lacked broad community schools, and with the priest class suppressed, knowledge became even more concentrated among the upper layers of the powerful nobility. Also, as the kingdom¡¯s nobility propagated over several generations with many descendants, it was easier to select administrative talents from among them.


    "The future administrative officials of the fief can absorb some of the nobility¡¯s descendants. However, the main administrators should come from the current commoner priests, commoner military officers, and future commoner civil servants. The path from bottom to top needs to be open!"


    The young King extended his hand, pointing directly at the third tier¡¯s bottom layer.


    "Chieftain, this first person on the third level, wielding a war club and shield, wearing a forked feathered helmet, I have encountered many on the battlefield. No need to mention more, this definitely represents the high-level samurai of the Lake Region. As for these few behind, please elaborate further."


    The sage nodded. He was well-versed in the content of these drawings, and now he narrated the details meticulously.


    "Second, Anjiangmecha, village chieftain, the village manager. The kingdom¡¯s villages are divided into three types: those near the frontier are mostly owned by Lords, while most of those in the Lake Patzcuaro region are directly affiliated. In the forests, there are many tribes that pay homage. The land there is barren and the terrain is harsh; many tribes semi-farm and semi-hunt, are rough and difficult to tame, and the cost of tax collection is very high. Their villages retain a higher degree of autonomy, and village chieftains can almost be considered low-level nobility Lords. In the distant southeastern mountains of Weytamo, their villages are even completely autonomous,"


    "The kingdom uses force as a threat but only requires them to pay tribute once a year, offering food, wood, feathers, and leather, and to provide labor during wartime. At the same time, the royal family controls the import and pricing of salt and cotton fabrics, taxing them in a more gentle manner." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes flickered slightly as he understood.


    The Mexica Alliance handled mountain tribes in the same way. However, the Alliance, being martial, often employed more severe methods. Longbow Hunters from the Toltec were thus recruited from the mountains. These hunters have now been promoted to First Level Samurai and still serve in the army. Their tribes, totaling about twenty thousand mountain villagers, will gradually migrate from the Holy City Teotihuacan to the damaged fief in the north, replenishing the population of Rivermouth County."


    "Third, Kasixuale, low-level priest. In the villages, priests often come from local families with many members and high influence. They hold the power to conduct festival sacrifices and arrange marriage and funeral ceremonies, and they are revered and respected by the commoners. Their status is second only to the tribe chieftain. During the Alliance¡¯s westward campaigns, grassroots priests didn¡¯t have much influence. In fact, many low-level priests are quite flexible about faith. As long as the identity of the Sun God is slightly adjusted, it is possible to effectively absorb many grassroots priests..."


    "Chief, low-level Prepetcha priests can be absorbed. However, they must travel to the Lake Capital City to worship at the Great Temple of the Chief Divine and then receive complete priest training!"


    Grasping the implication in Jatili¡¯s words, Xiulote responded solemnly.


    "In the tribes and villages of Prepetcha, the priest and village elder are often the same. I know, Chief, as a sage renowned among the tribe, you certainly have a great influence on the lower priests. Please assist me earnestly in naturalizing the priests!"


    "The Alliance is willing to accommodate these low-level priests and can temporarily regard Prepetcha¡¯s Sun God Curicaveri as an incarnation of the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli. However, as the Alliance is founded on religion and promotes the will of the Chief Divine, this decision is irreversible! For the vast majority of commoners, the Alliance demands devout faith."


    The young King displayed a regal gaze. He watched the knowledgeable elder until the latter averted his eyes and respectfully lowered his head.


    "Your Majesty, I have understood your will and shall assist diligently,"


    "Good!"


    Faced with Jatili¡¯s submission, Xiulote nodded slightly before he smiled gently.


    "The future path of the Alliance is one where divine and political powers are unified. Kings govern the world with genealogical laws. As the Supreme High Priest of the Fifth Level in the whole Tarasco district, I can grant the elder the rank of Fourth Level Chief Priest, to facilitate your endeavors."


    "...Thank you, Your Majesty!"


    Upon hearing the honor of a religious title, the knowledgeable elder remained calm, offered his respects, and then stroked the last vacant position of the Third Level and leisurely added,


    "Your Majesty, actually, this Third Level should also include newly emerged Trade Tax Officers and high-status Craftsmen. They are newly formed groups that have gradually emerged with the development of the kingdom¡¯s trade. Since Your Majesty strictly controls trade and encompasses many materials into state enterprises; and at the same time, you dispatched legions to take control of the craftsman camp upon taking over the Capital City...Certainly, you already have a complete Divine Tree in mind, and there is no need for this old official to speak more."


    "With that, the binary Third Level system of the kingdom has been largely explained. I hope it will be of assistance in your administration of the fief. Now please step forward two paces, and behold these last two important Heritage Slabs!"

 Chapter 517 - 253: Heritage Slab, Centralization of Power

    The sudden rain had ceased, the setting sun dyed the clouds red, and cast magnificent silhouettes. Light swayed through time within the Stone Hall, morphing from a bright golden glow to a deep, rich crimson. The sunset hues bathed the last two Heritage Slabs, reminiscent of the closing chapters of the Kingdom Epic. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote lifted his head, his eyes reflecting the light of the setting sun. Jatili focused his gaze and saw that on the handsome and composed face of the young King, there were eyes bright as the morning stars, as though reflecting a meditative deity in a painting. The learned elder was momentarily lost in thought before he pointed at the sixth Heritage Slab and spoke out loud.


    "My King, this sixth Heritage Slab encompasses five panels. It recounts the policies promulgated by successive Tarasco kings to establish Royal Family authority and centralize the Kingdom¡¯s power!"


    Upon hearing the phrase "centralizing power," the young King raised his eyebrows and looked attentively.


    At the center of the first panel was a towering, majestic Divine Eagle King standing proudly. Before him, knelt a row of nobles clad in magnificent apparel. The King¡¯s radiance shone like the Sun, and his demeanor was as solemn as that of a deity. He was handing over a wooden tablet scroll to the influential nobles before him.


    "The King¡¯s torso radiates stripes outward... Chief, is this the King representing the Sun God in a fief-granting ceremony?"


    Xiulote observed the details of the panel with seriousness.


    "Exactly, My King. In fact, it should be more appropriately called a granting ceremony!"


    Jatili smiled meaningfully.


    "This was a massive granting ceremony held towards the end of the Divine Eagle King¡¯s reign! As time went by, the original influential Great Nobility grew old and died. Their numerous descendants, because of issues with title and land inheritance, had many disputes. As the Divine Eagle Royal Family had the supreme authority to decide, these conflicts were adjudicated by the King."


    "Upon the suggestion of the second Hummingbird Chief, the Divine Eagle King finally carried out a ¡¯generous¡¯ granting. He accounted for the number of legitimate descendants of many nobles, and in the Lake Patzcuaro region, he granted fiefs to 220 influential nobles in one go, allowing these heirs to equally divide the lands of the Great Nobility."


    "The second Chief¡¯s suggestion? An equal division of land in a generous granting? Truly a bold and clever proposition!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote suddenly widened his eyes. He looked at the learned elder in surprise; this scenario was all too familiar.


    "Indeed! My King¡¯s wise Divine Revelation, it seems you already comprehend the subtlety in it."


    Jatili praised softly, then spoke earnestly.


    "Under the witness of the Sun God, this fief-granting had two steps: first, many heirs of nobility in the Lake Patzcuaro region, whether Nava Nobility or Lake Region Nobility, had to submit wooden tablet scrolls and nominally return their fiefs to the King.


    "Then, the supreme King, unbiased and just, under the witness of deities, did not usurp any nobles¡¯ lands. He merely generously granted everyone titles, then divided these lands into different parcels, and gifted them back to the nobles¡¯ heirs. In this process of submission and re-granting, the King¡¯s authority was reinforced, legally possessing all rights to dispose of the land."


    "At the time, some older nobles of the Lake Region starkly opposed the large-scale granting, using tribal traditions as their rationale. However, the outcome was that the granting still strongly proceeded under the authority of the King and the manipulation of the Chief. After the massive granting, the influential nobles of the Lake Region, now numbering in the hundreds, completely lost any capacity to resist the King. The entire Lake Patzcuaro region was finally, over the decades, fully integrated directly under the Royal Family."


    The learned elder smiled subtly, his gaze deep and distant.


    "My King, I must remind you that this ¡¯generous¡¯ granting, while clever, harbored great risks. To the older nobility, the malice hidden in the large-scale granting was unequivocally apparent! The Divine Eagle King had harbored this idea for a long time but patiently waited for decades. Only when the prestigious first-generation nobles had nearly all died did he allow the Hummingbird Chief to cautiously make this proposal."


    "Even then, to minimize opposition, the scope of this granting was carefully limited. It focused only on the central Lake Patzcuaro region and did not involve the border military nobility. Under the witness of the deities, the Divine Eagle King used his prestige to make promises, ensuring the independence of inheritance rights for the border nobles. The border nobles also altered their inheritance rules. Numerous covert efforts and compromises by the Royal Family ensured the peaceful execution of the entire granting ceremony."


    "My King, governance is a compromise of power, a confrontation of different groups, different forces. Even if one wishes to employ trickery, a sufficient foundation of power is necessary. Because, the mighty will tightly control the power and wealth, never easily relinquishing it..."


    Hearing this, Xiulote pondered for a moment and nodded seriously.


    "Thank you for your teachings, Chief! Direct central power is fundamental to administration. Governing a great state is like cooking a fish in the lake; after adjusting the heat, what follows is a slow wait... Chief, I still have one question: If the control over the influential nobility is limited only to the central lake area, how then does the Tarasco Royal Family handle the border military nobility who possess troops?"


    At this, Jatili¡¯s eyes twinkled. He carefully looked at the young King for a while, smiling as he answered.

 Chapter 518 - 253: Heritage Slab, Centralization of Power - Part 2

    "In the King¡¯s heart, there is an eternal Divine Tree... For the military nobility at the border, the Royal Family has summarized a strategy, that is, to control the tribute and establish checks and balances. Among these, controlling the Kingdom¡¯s tribute is of paramount importance, the foundation for establishing balances!"


    "Your Majesty, please observe the second, third, and fourth paintings!"


    Xiulote moved closer to inspect. The second painting was quite artistic, at first glance resembling a simple landscape painting. At the top of the image was still a sun, at the center of which was a Divine Eagle. Below in the image, there was a mountain with trees, a lake with fish, and a valley with mines.


    The third painting was easier to understand. A majestic pyramid stood in the center, surrounded by a bustling market, and beyond that, a city without walls. Countless merchants arrived from all directions, their backs laden with gold and silver, gemstones, obsidian, cloth, feathers, food, salt, spices, and shiny bronze ware. On the roads passed by the merchants, many noble advisors holding albums were inspecting and taxing the goods. Notably, on the merchants themselves, there were also emblems of the Divine Eagle.


    The fourth painting abstracted once more. A burly deity emitting radiant lines of light was coiled at the center of the design. He had large round eyes, narrow and flat mouth, with an unusual red-backed chair behind him. Around the deity, various busy craftsmen were depicted. Some held stone tools, others held pottery; some made weapons, others sewed leather armor; some lit flames to craft gold and silver ornaments; others mixed two metals to forge precious bronze!


    Xiulote paused, observing the deity in the fourth painting closely. The figure always gave him a strangely familiar feeling, possessing facial features akin to a toad...


    "Eh, where have I seen this before... Chief, who is this deity?"


    "Haha, Your Majesty must have seen him! This is the Toltec¡¯s deity of craftsmen, master of music, dance and art, lover of flowers, plants and beauties, skilled in metallurgy, painting and craftworks, Sochipili! He is both the craftsman god of the Prepetcha, with the body of a lake frog, and simultaneously the craftsman god of the Mexica, the Prince of Flowers!"


    "So it is! The Prince of Flowers, a deity common to both peoples... "


    Xiulote nodded in sudden realization. He finished looking at the paintings, waiting for Jatili¡¯s explanation.


    "Your Majesty, these three paintings depict the central control of the Kingdom over national finances and tribute collection. The second painting¡¯s meaning is that the King, like the sun, shines upon the land, owning everything upon it! Whether it¡¯s the trees on the mountains, the turtles in the lake, or the minerals in the valley, they all belong to the Royal Family. The Divine Eagle Royal Family owns the water sources, forests, and minerals of the fief, and maintains possession of these resources with a strong legion.


    Under the leadership of successive kings, the Royal Family selects valuable industries to deploy large manpower for development, just like the salt springs in the East, the copper and gold and silver mines in the South, and the Stone of the Dead in the West. As for other resources, the rights to exploit and utilize them are granted, for a fee, to local nobility and merchant groups."


    "Your Majesty, through the development of these resources, the Kingdom can obtain long-term and stable additional tribute beyond field taxation, to support more loyal Royal Warriors!"


    "Excellent! The treasures of mountains and lakes, the industries of forests and marshes, all belong to the state, transforming into the power of governance!"


    Xiulote smiled, these measures coinciding with his own plans. Since the Prepetcha people have such traditions, the ¡¯official mountains and seas¡¯ fief policy will be even easier to implement.


    "Please continue, Chief!" S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Majesty, the fourth painting depicts the Kingdom¡¯s control over trade. The city of Ihuatzio in the South is the economic center of the Kingdom, as well as a necessary passage for merchants from all directions. Your Majesty may recall, as previously mentioned, the Kingdom has set up specific Trade Tax Officers to take a proportion of the goods in transit and to tax large transactions.


    The Kingdom stations troops to patrol the strategic locations along the shoreline of the Lake Region, strictly cracking down on private trade and protecting the taxed merchants, limiting local nobility¡¯s interference in commerce. Moreover, for the profitable foreign trades, the Royal Family actually forms specialized merchant fleets."


    The wise elder paused, placing his hand on the merchant with the Divine Eagle emblem.


    "Copper merchants from all over the world generally have the backing of the Tarasco Royal Family. They also simultaneously serve the function of gathering intelligence. Before the western conquest, the Tarasco merchants in Tenochtitlan had sent back warnings, advising King Su¡¯angua to be wary of the new king¡¯s coronation war of the Mexica Alliance. However, afterward, they lost contact. It was said that for committing the unforgivable crimes of rising above their station, wearing jade, and offending the gods, they were publicly executed by the Mexica people!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote was slightly startled, and memories surfaced.


    He recalled his meeting with the Mayan merchant Tikalo. At that time, to develop stable copper trade routes, control the military supplies within the Alliance, and to intimidate the Mayan merchants, he had ordered the Monkey Kuluka to deal with the Tarasco merchants... The young king merely thought for a moment, then focused on a more practical issue.


    "After the fall of the Tarasco Kingdom, where did these royal-controlled merchants go?"


    "Your Majesty, although the merchants possess wealth, they are merely beautiful birds bred by the Divine Eagle. Without the protection of the Divine Eagle, what fate could beautiful birds have in front of predators? If they were wise enough to abandon most of their wealth, they might escape the claws of the greedy nobility of various countries. If they were not wise enough..."

 Chapter 519 - 253: Heritage Slab, Centralization of Power - 3

    Upon hearing this, Xiulote slowly nodded.


    "Beautiful birds will attract misfortune due to their precious feathers. Head Warrior, thank you for your reminder! These great merchants are familiar with international trade routes and control the information and sales networks of various places. They are a force worth retaining!... The newly born Kingdom of the Lake also needs to make its own voice heard across the world."


    The young King pondered for a moment and then looked back at the Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, take note of my command!"


    "Understood, Your Highness."


    The Head Warrior took out pen and paper and bowed his head to write.


    "Dispatch envoys to notify the surrounding countries: The newly established Kingdom of the Lake, a collective kingdom of the Mexica and the Prepetcha, will protect the lives and property of the Prepetcha merchants from all countries. From the day the envoy arrives, any harm done to the kingdom¡¯s merchants will be recorded by the kingdom. The Kingdom of the Lake, under the Mexica Alliance, will send envoys, dispatch squads of Samurai, and even deploy legions to pursue forces daring to offend the alliance!"


    Bertade wrote swiftly, quickly finishing the document. He handed the paper order to the King for inspection. Xiulote looked it over and nodded in approval. Afterward, the Head Warrior summoned a trusted aide, handed over the order and Jade Talisman, and kept a simple backup. In just a moment, the trusted aide took the Royal Decree and left.


    Jatili watched the process of issuing the royal command, his thoughts apparent. His graying eyebrows twitched slightly, thoughts flashing through his mind, yet he remained silent. Moments later, only when the King looked his way again did he smile and speak.


    "Such a decree from Your Majesty is a divine blessing to the Prepetcha people! I shall spread word of Your Majesty¡¯s kindness and majesty to priests and scholars everywhere. Similarly, I will also raise a call amongst the civilians, urging the Prepetcha merchants from all regions to submit to Your Majesty as soon as possible."


    "Excellent, then I leave it in your capable hands, Head Warrior!"


    Xiulote smiled, his voice filled with joy.


    For the young King, Jatili¡¯s allegiance was significant. In every aspect of government within the fief, learned elders could fully wield their influence. In reality, behind these scholars was a group of Prepetcha elites actively moving closer to the alliance, intending to join the newly formed kingdom and enter the ranks of rulers.


    In this era, knowledge was concentrated in the hands of a few elites. Ordinary citizens had neither the cultural heritage nor the voice of their tribes. They could be organized into armies and perform military functions but had difficulty participating in governance. Since the governance of the fief had decided to suppress the Prepetcha nobility, who held the majority of wealth and population, it was essential to unite the remaining village priests, tribe sages, lesser nobles, and senior craftsmen who held technical expertise, along with a portion of measured merchants.


    "Your Majesty, river turtles, lake fish, and waterbirds all wish to serve the true Divine Eagle!"


    Jatili said with a smile, continuing his previous narrative.


    "As Your Majesty has observed, this fourth painting tells of various craftsmen of the kingdom gathering under the patronage of the Craftsman¡¯s God, all serving the Royal Family. The kingdom values craftsmen and also uses the production of craftsmen to obtain a vast amount of tribute and military supplies, supporting the formidable Royal Legion.


    In Qinchongcan City, there is a massive Craftsman Camp housing thousands of craftsmen engaged exclusively in the production of royal goods and military supplies. Meanwhile, in Ihuatzio City, there are specially organized official craftsmen who manufacture exquisite clothing, bronzeware, and crafts for the purpose of profitable trade.


    In the western campaign, the Royal Legion¡¯s rapid imitation of the longbow was a contribution from the Qinchongcan Craftsman Camp. The robust bronze weapons used by the Royal Legion also came from this camp. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was only with the supply from these official craftsmen that the Feathered Serpent Royal Family could establish the powerful Copper-axe Guards, forming an overwhelming military advantage over the military nobility on the frontier. The centralized control over craftsmen and the strict regulation of military supplies also played a crucial part in controlling these frontier military nobility...


    Your Majesty, this old official has observed your administration and knows that you have always valued craftsmen, and have established within the Alliance a new Divine Revelation Place for researching new weapons. On this point, naturally, I need not say more.


    Xiulote nodded slightly. He had already arranged for the Head Warrior to restore production in the Craftsman Camp and had established a new Divine Revelation Place around the palace district. The new center for gunpowder production would also, like the Alliance, be established on a small island in Lake Patzcuaro.


    Subsequently, the learned elder moved his finger, pointing to the last drawing on the slab. The scene once again depicted a tall Divine Eagle King. The King, wielding a scepter, pointed towards a forest-covered mountain range. Numerous simple figures, each holding different weapons, lay prostrate and knelt in front of the King.


    "This fifth painting represents the Royal Family¡¯s check on the frontier nobility."


    Jatili ran his finger along the edges, over the figures¡¯ diverse tattoos, clothing, and weapons.


    "Tattooed with Feathered Serpent, the Tepanec; with marks of the wind, the Guamal Canine Descendants; in black and white war clothes, the Otomi; in wide hats and narrow skirts, the Tekos... While deploying the Legion to subdue the barbarian tribes of the frontier, the Kingdom also enfeoffed chieftains, incorporating border tribes that were willing to submit, even relocating southward-migrating Guamal Canine Descendants and settling the fleeing remnants of the Tepanec. These submissive tribes of the wilderness were assigned lands on the frontier. They accepted the Kingdom¡¯s dispatch, served in the military for the Kingdom, even received sustenance from the Royal Family, obeyed the Royal commands, and did things that the Kingdom Legion found inconvenient."


    The learned elder paused, then smiled meaningfully.


    "The remnants of the Tepanec..."


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression transformed, his gaze turning stern. He suddenly recalled an ambush years ago at the outskirts of an Otomi village. It was the closest he had come to death in his life.


    Jatili observed the King¡¯s demeanor, carefully waiting a moment before continuing cautiously.


    "These submissive tribes stationed at the border effectively balance the military nobility of the frontier and also provide the Royal Family with a considerable number of foreign mercenaries. The Royal Family can smoothly command these foreign border people, relying not only on the strong deterrent of the Royal Legion but also on the financial support and bribery from the fief."


    "The strength of the central hub lies in its financial advantage; the stability of the frontier, in its military balance!"


    The learned elder stood tall, his expression solemn, and bowed solemnly to the King.


    "Your Majesty, the centralized government office is like a towering tree! The powerful direct-controlled legions are its main support, but the most crucial roots are the financial resources of the fief! The labor of the villagers, the toil of the craftsmen, the mining of the miners, the traffic of the merchant caravans¡­ the fields, workshops, mines, and merchant groups, all of this, the fief office must intervene in everything, incessantly absorbing nutrients, only then can a large, stable central Divine Tree truly grow!"

 Chapter 520 - 254: Heritage Slab, Faith Remolded

    The sky after rain was clear and pure. A deep red sun hung low at the end of the horizon, watching over the realm of humans like the lowered eyes of a deity. The sky was illuminated by the setting sun. The glow spread gradually until it turned into an endless expanse of blood red, covering the skies above Qinchongcan City, like a cape unfurled by the Sun God.


    Xiulote walked to the translucent window and looked down at the Capital City and all its people under his rule.


    The spectacular celestial phenomenon had already caught the attention of the city¡¯s inhabitants, and it was time for the evening prayers. The continuous chants rose within the majestic Capital City. The young king listened closely; he heard the name of the Mexica Chief Divine, Huitzilopochtli, resounding high and fervent, accompanied by the priests¡¯ singing; he also heard the venerated name of the Tarasco Sun God, Curicaveri, its sounds deep and buzzing, spread across all corners of the Capital City. In a more subtle presence, he also caught the names of the Earth Mother Goddess, Velavaperi, and the Moon Goddess, Haratana.


    "The old beliefs of Tarasco still circulate among the people of Prepetcha. Changing faith is no overnight feat. And once it¡¯s wholeheartedly adopted, it becomes indelible," Xiulote mused with a calm and profound gaze, bearing the dignity of a king and the patience of a priest.


    Jatili listened in silence for a moment before smiling and pointing to the seventh slab.


    "Your Majesty, this final slab tells the story behind the deities of Tarasco."


    "Oh? What lies behind the deities?" Xiulote asked with a smile. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Naturally, the people who give the deities meaning," Jatili responded sagely.


    Hearing this, Xiulote paused thoughtfully. He scrutinized Jatili for a moment, his expression grave.


    "Chief, in a kingdom devoted to deities, it seems you do not possess the appropriate faith."


    "Your Majesty, if you, like me, knew the ancient epics well enough and understood how the predecessors monarchs and sages reshaped the faith in the deities... then the light of the deities could no longer pierce into a heart filled with knowledge," Jatili replied with a smile still gracing his lips. He looked at the king¡¯s serious face, bowed his head slightly in a gesture of respect, yet his eyes saw through much more.


    "Prepetcha deities... reshaping faith..." Xiulote contemplated for a moment. His mind conjured the murals in the corridors of the Chief Palace and the elders¡¯ transformation of Mexica mythology... The king slowly nodded in understanding. He waved his hand, dismissing the trusted aides and leaving only the Head Warrior with him.


    "The secondary chambers are empty, Chief. Please, speak freely and share with me in detail," he said.


    Jatili¡¯s smile spread across his face. He walked to the last slab and raised his hand to point to the first set of illustrations.


    The first illustration was abstract and mystical, at its center two radiant deities, one with a cold male visage, the other with a gentle female smile. Behind the male deity was a brilliant sun, painted with powder of gold, sparkling intermittently. Behind the female deity lay a massive highland, painted on a copper base, already oxidized to black over time.


    Beneath the two deities stood two exquisitely dressed nobles, a man and a woman, embracing each other. The man wore the hunting attire of the Nava people, with rigid lines delineating the man¡¯s strength. The woman was clothed in Prepetcha ceremonial garb, with smooth curves symbolizing feminine grace. Beneath the man¡¯s feet were cacti from the highlands, while beneath the woman¡¯s feet were islands in a lake. Both were also holding a baby together.


    Looking closer, Xiulote noticed a faint round moon behind the infant. The moon was colored with silver powder, still shining brightly now. After a moment of contemplation, it dawned on the young king.


    "The Chief Divine Sun God and the Earth Mother Goddess, the Nava people and the Urixiu people. The union of the two tribes gave birth to the Moon Goddess... Is this the interconnection between gods and humans, the deities reflecting the mortal world?"


    "Indeed! That¡¯s correct!" Jatili replied with a light smile.


    "Your Majesty, this painting was created in the early days of the Kingdom. At that time, the most pressing issue in the Kingdom was reconciling the differences between the two tribes. The Predecessor Monarch, after establishing the Capital in the Holy Land and curbing the power of the priests, undertook the task of reshaping the Kingdom¡¯s faith. He reinterpreted the deities of the two tribes to consolidate the Royal Family¡¯s rule and strengthen the fusion between the migrated and the native Tribes.


    In this painting, the migrated Nava people are descendants of the Chief Divine Sun God, Curicaveri, deities of Heaven. The native Urixiu people are descendants of the Earth Mother Goddess, Velavaperi, deities of the Earth. As the two deities are joined in matrimony, naturally the tribes of these two deities intermarry as well. From the union of the deities, the new Moon Goddess Haratana is born, she who reigns over the mortal realm and governs life and death. The Moon Goddess symbolizes the people of Prepetcha, reborn from this union!"


    The sage paused, looking at the king with deep meaning in his words.


    "Your Majesty, indeed, gods and people are interconnected. However, it¡¯s actually the mortal realm that reflects upon the deities!"


    Xiuolte¡¯s eyes flickered as he nodded slowly. He remained silent, choosing instead to continue observing the second set of illustrations.


    The second set of illustrations seemed to be a continuation of the first, yet it held many differences. The Nava noble and the Urixiu noble combined, giving birth to a glowing infant. The divinely blessed infant later grew into a king wearing an Eagle Helmet, wielding a scepter and long spears. Behind this Eagle king shone a golden sun!


    "Your Majesty, this second painting was made after the passing of the Predecessor Monarch. By then, the initial integration of the two tribes had been largely achieved. The second Predecessor Monarch began revising myths and beliefs, on one hand uniting the newly-formed nation and on the other bestowing divine status upon the Royal Family.

 Chapter 521 - 254: Heritage Slab, Faith Remolded_2

    In this painting, the first Predecessor Monarch Tariacuri is depicted as the offspring of the union of the Nava and Urixiu people, and even more so, the Divine Descendant chosen by the Chief Divine of the sun! He possessed innate authority and divinity to rule over all the citizens of the lake region. During this period, the Chief Divine of the sun also ascended from the Heavenly Divine of the migrating tribes to become the Protective Divinity of all the citizens of the lake region!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote nodded in agreement, positively remarking,


    "Similar to the Alliance. The elevation of the Chief Divine, the deification of the former King... These are signs of the Kingdom¡¯s will congealing."


    "Wise King!"


    Upon these words, Jatili¡¯s wrinkles trembled, and he chuckled deeply, his smile bearing the weight of time.


    He then pointed to the third group painting. In the painting, a prominent sun shone in the sky, casting light upon a towering pyramid below. At the center of the frame stood a King with a Divine Eagle helmet. He connected the sun with the pyramid, as if bridging heaven and earth, divinity and humanity, the Divine Kingdom and the mortal world!


    "The third painting, drawn during the reign of the third Predecessor Monarch, depicts the scene of the new King ascending to the very top of the pyramid and offering sacrifices to the Heavenly Divines. During this period, after the efforts of the second-generation Predecessor Monarch, the Divine Eagle Family had gained divinity in the hearts of the people. The Patzcuaro Lake region became, in myths, the source that maintains the world¡¯s rotation; and the pyramid of Qinchongcan City is the true center of the universe!


    The King¡¯s power is endowed and safeguarded by the Heavenly Divines, and the royal power is destined to be passed down through the sacred bloodline of the Divine Descendants, through holy rituals. And with the sacrificial rites at the pyramids, each King establishes a sacred connection with the Heavenly Divines, beyond the comprehension of the people!"


    "Offering sacrifices to heaven and earth, the divinity bestows royal power."


    Xiulote mused to himself, many images from his memory flashing before his eyes. After a while, the young King nodded first, then let out a gentle sigh.


    He looked toward the last, expansive painting. In the frame was still the King of the Divine Eagle. The King had ascended, transformed into the Divine King of the tribes. He stood between heaven and earth, radiating a godly glow. His feet were apart, one on the land, the other on water. Around the Divine King were countless people prostrating in worship. And below in the painting, there were lines of mysterious glyphs and inscriptions, as if the conclusion of the mythological epic.


    "Elder, is this the epic of the gods?"


    The young King traced the inscriptions with his finger and looked towards the knowledgeable elder in front of him.


    Jatili nodded. He cleared his throat and with an ancient and distant intonation, he recited the last of the Kingdom Epic.


    "The sun shines over heaven and earth, ancestors rule in all directions! Praise you, Tariacuri, you are the Divine Descendant of the sun, the incarnation of the Divine Eagle, you are destined to rule the sky, the land, and the lakes!


    Oh, citizens from all directions, we also worship the ancestral Divine King. One of His feet stands on land, and the other on water. He has supreme might, with divine hands, creating the newly born people of Prepetcha...


    And we are the descendants of the Divine King! We are the holy people of Prepetcha, destined to become a great tribe! We gestate and grow in the lands of the lake, multiply and perish... and the great Tarasco Kingdom, under the rule of the exalted Divine Eagle Royal Family, shall persist generation after generation, standing for thousands of autumns and tens of thousands of years!..."


    The deep chanting echoed in the ancient Stone Hall, as if with some strange Magic Power, stirring the King¡¯s emotions. It swept away the dust of history, unveiled sealed memories, and once more sang of the bygone epics, turning them into a final resonating song. And the sunset at the horizon finally sunk completely into the earth, leaving behind only the profound night, and the flickering candlelight in the Stone Hall.


    The candlelight flickered, casting elongated shadows. Xiulote gazed at the Heritage Slabs in the shadows, now indistinguishable. At this moment, his thoughts fluctuated, and he was deep in contemplation.


    From these silent slabs, he heard the myths of four Eras converging into a unified story; he witnessed the fall of the old Kingdom, and the rise of the newborn Kingdom; he contemplated the intermarriage of merging tribes, and also looked forward to the fiefs with a heart wide as the world...


    And in the newborn fiefdoms, it was necessary to reconstruct the Third Level framework, and to deal with different strata; to strengthen the centralization of power, and to manage the finances of the fiefs; and also, over the long passage of time, to nurture a completely renewed pantheon of divinities, and evolve an ever-strengthening set of beliefs!


    Countless sparks of thought twinkled in the King¡¯s mind and then gathered into a fierce flame in his chest. The Stone Hall was silent, with everyone quietly waiting as if in a historical freeze-frame. Only when a gentle smile appeared on the King¡¯s face did time once again flow within the hall.


    "Today, having the Sage recount the epic has truly been extremely beneficial to me, sparing me a decade¡¯s worth of toil."


    Xiulote smiled as he clasped Jatili¡¯s hands.


    "Chief, you are the wings that enable me to soar through the skies. The future governance of the Kingdom cannot do without wise men like you; our newly built officialdom in the fief also needs more skilled birds that can fly. If you know of any talented individuals, please do not hesitate to recommend them! I will appoint them based on their virtues and abilities, without regard to race or kinship," he said.


    Upon hearing this, a flash of joy crossed the learned Elder¡¯s face. He bowed solemnly and repeated a phrase he had said before.


    "Your Majesty, the turtles in the river, the fish in the lake, and the waterbirds are all willing to serve a true eagle!" he said.


    Xiulote laughed heartily at this and nodded with satisfaction. He looked around, and after one last glance at the spacious stone hall, was about to leave. Suddenly, in the corner of the chamber, a dull gray dagger caught the light, drawing the attention of the king.


    "A dull gray dagger?"


    The young king paused. He took several steps forward, picked up the dagger, and examined it closely. Then, he ran his hand over the razor-sharp and smooth edge, feeling the distinct solid touch of the metal, which was not the familiar obsidian.


    "Dull gray metal... this is... an iron dagger!"


    Surprise spread across Xiulote¡¯s face. He turned eagerly to Jatili and asked,


    "Chief, where did this weapon come from?"


    The Elder glanced at the uniquely shaped dagger and smiled knowingly.


    "Your Majesty, this is an ancient weapon confiscated by the Kingdom during an expedition against the Tekos Tribe in the Colima region, southwest of here, many years ago. There are several more daggers like this one, all stored in a nearby trophy hut. These weapons are exceptionally sharp, slightly less so than the sharpness of obsidian but far more durable, even stronger than the latest bronze!


    The Royal Family once sent people to search carefully in the complex Colima Mountain Region for the gray metal that could be forged into these daggers, but they found nothing. In the end, as the Elder of the Tekos Tribe said, they classified them as weapons gifted by the gods. The Divine Eagle Family, calling themselves the Descendants of the Divine, also chose the sturdiest dagger and placed it in this Heritage Stone Hall," he explained.


    "Colima Mountain Region... I see," Xiulote said, nodding slightly in disappointment. He remembered the stories Ezpan had told him, and with a heavy heart, he could only sigh deeply. Then, the young king¡¯s expression grew solemn. He pondered for a while before turning to the Head Warrior he trusted most.


    "Bertade, has the extraction of the southern copper mines resumed? How is the craftsman camp faring? What is the production rate of the longbows? Have the production of the bronze agricultural tools I commanded begun? And what about the small copper cannons I¡¯ve emphasized, what are the latest developments?" he asked. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, I have already gathered a thousand miners to preliminarily resume the extraction in the southern copper mines. The Priests have settled in the craftsman camp and have instructed the craftsmen. Over two thousand craftsmen have been fully organized and have started to take on their previous functions. If we have sufficient wood, we can maintain a production of over one hundred longbows a day. The losses of the longbow regiments have already been replenished...


    The expensive production of bronze agricultural tools poses no difficulty in manufacturing and has already been completed on a trial basis. However, although the bronze tools make farming easier, the costs are too high. Their production is limited by the copper sourced from the southern mines of our fiefs, and we also need to import more tin ore from the south of the Alliance. As for the copper cannons you requested..."


    Bertade hesitated to continue. After a moment¡¯s thought, he cautiously replied,


    "The craftsmen have just tried to manufacture one, but there have been some problems, and it cannot be used yet... I request that you inspect it personally."


    Hearing this, Xiulote contemplated for a moment before issuing a command.


    "Very well! You go and make preparations. Once I¡¯m done with the state affairs at hand, and August is almost over, we¡¯ll set the time for the visit before the September harvest. I will bring the trusted aides I¡¯ve been grooming to inspect the craftsman camp first, then oversee the mining operations in the southern Ivachi!" he commanded.

 Chapter 522 - 255 Autumn of 1484 - Conversations among Navigators

    August 1484, Capital of the Kingdom of Portugal, the ancient yet newly splendid City of Seven Hills, Lisbon.


    In this era, Lisbon was an undeniable European metropolis. It was the capital of a kingdom with fifteen hundred thousand subjects, housing over seventy thousand permanent residents and thousands of foreign merchants and travelers. The ancient Sintra Palace was situated upon the Sintra Mountains to the north of the city; it was the true power center of the kingdom, home to an ambitious and vigorous king.


    To the south of the capital, a tranquil long river gently flowed. This was the mother river of the Kingdom of Portugal, the Tagus River. Originating from the central mountains of the Iberian Peninsula, it coursed west, passed through forests blanketing the highlands, meandered around woodlands enclosing pastures and crossed the borders of two kingdoms. It irrigated the seaside plains dense with farmlands, nourished the capital¡¯s suburbs adorned with orchards, and finally arrived at this prosperous and splendid seaside city to meet the Atlantic Ocean.


    At the rivermouth where the Tagus flowed into the sea, there thrived a bustling seaside port. Merchant ships, warships, exploration vessels¡ªhundreds of sails were docked here, waiting; nobles, merchants, commoners bustled through, trading. Looking closer, one could see hundreds of stout slaves with dark skin, submissively bowing their heads, drenched in sweat, unloading the large quantities of incoming goods.


    Under the scorching sun, Bruno strutted toward the port in a newly tailored, elegant attire, accompanied by a few robust sailors armed with daggers and walking briskly.


    Noting his noble garb, merchants of diverse nationalities and local fishermen along the way made room for him to pass. Only a few inebriated sailors in short tunics staggered forward. The drunkards, mumbling foul language, reached out their grubby hands towards the well-dressed young noble.


    Bruno¡¯s brow furrowed. He lifted his right foot and kicked hard, sending the lead drunkard tumbling to the ground. The robust sailors following him cursed aloud, surged forward, and with daggers inverted, used the blunt ends to ferociously pummel the shoulders and backs of the drunkards, knocking them to the ground with "bang bang" sounds. Soon enough, the cursing turned into screams, and the screams into groans.


    "Boss, these blind fools must¡¯ve come from some merchant ship, bumping around like masterless stray dogs! Judging by their accents, they¡¯re definitely not from Lisbon. There were too many deaths among the lower-deck sailors on the trip back from the demon¡¯s land to the south, and we can¡¯t replace them quickly enough. The fleet has to set sail southward soon... Shall we grab these idiots and put them to work as deckhands on our ship?"


    A brutish, middle-aged sailor stepped forward and asked in a cold, low voice.


    Hearing this, Bruno hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.


    "Forget it. Under the Holy Mother¡¯s watch, I¡¯ve just married the woman I love... Besides, Sir Dias, the royal supervisor, is also with the fleet. He¡¯s going to lead several scholars and missionaries with us to the south. I haven¡¯t figured out Sir Dias¡¯s temper yet... Let¡¯s just spare them this time!"


    The middle-aged sailor nodded obediently at these words.


    Hurrying back from the distant town of Faro in the south by carriage, Paulo, the former chief sailor¡¯s widowed sister, became Bruno¡¯s bride, making him one of their own among the sailors. Moreover, as the noble¡¯s son ventured into the native kingdoms and obtained intelligence on the Kingdom of John, he was awarded the lowest rank of knight by the royal family. The crew thus held some respect for him and acknowledged him as their leader.


    "Ptui! Your luck saved you; you¡¯ve escaped with your lives!" S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The middle-aged sailor kicked a drunkard on the ground hard and spit contemptuously. In that era, being captured as a deckhand for the lowest ranks on a ship heading to the horrifying Black Africa was akin to being handed a death sentence.


    Another burly sailor moved closer and cautiously asked,


    "Boss, this Sir Dias, the royal supervisor, what¡¯s his deal?"


    "Ah, what¡¯s his deal? He comes from true nobility, as esteemed as a royal knight and captain!"


    Bruno¡¯s laugh was tinged with self-mockery. Such genuine nobles were not something he, an illegitimate child born of a nobleman, could compare with.


    "Sir Dias¡¯s father and grandfather were nobles, veterans who followed Prince Enrique as navigators. He himself is highly trusted by the king, not only a noble royal knight but also the overseer of the royal warehouse, and a current captain."


    "Hey, boss, if he¡¯s a captain, why should he care about the lives of a few common sailors!"


    The middle-aged sailor laughed grimly, turning his head to coldly glance at the still groaning drunkards on the ground, then turning back to ask,


    "Fodesse! A noble like that is going south with us to lands infested with demons?"


    "Sir Dias won¡¯t venture deep into the demon¡¯s lands. He¡¯s been part of the conquest of the Gold Coast before. This time he¡¯s heading south to support the newly built Elmina Castle since gold is abundant there."


    As Bruno said this, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing.


    On his last voyage, he had narrowly escaped death from the demon¡¯s lands and had even witnessed the demon¡¯s Angel Envoy on earth, which haunted his dreams for a month. Yet, the rewards of such adventures were generous and astounding. The gemstones, gold, and ivory he brought back sold for a handsome price in the Lisbon market. Not only was the money enough to throw a respectable noble wedding, but it also allowed him to buy a noble manor on the outskirts of the capital, complete with its own orchard.

 Chapter 523 - 255 Autumn of 1484 - Conversations among Navigators_2

    Had he followed the path of an ordinary commoner, his entire life¡¯s savings wouldn¡¯t have amounted to such a fortune. Not to mention, he had been knighted for his achievements, finally shedding his status as a bastard and becoming a true member of the nobility!


    "Fodesse! Glittering gold, you are my most beloved little treasure!... This time sailing south, I must make another two such profits, no matter what!"


    "Hmm, of course!... With such a long voyage, there will always be opportunities."


    The group excitedly and quietly discussed among themselves as they walked toward the southern part of the harbor, and they soon arrived at an excellent deep-water berth. More than a dozen caravels were lined up with the kingdom¡¯s cross flags flying high on their masts.


    Bruno boarded a small boat and rowed his way to the forefront, where the flagship was positioned. As he climbed aboard, he saw several well-dressed dignitaries gathered, conversing in low and serious tones. At the center of the crowd stood two distinguished royal knight captains.


    Bruno carefully approached, bowing his head from afar in greeting.


    "Honorable captains, Sir Bartolomeu Dias! I, Noble Knight Bruno Cao, extend my greetings to the respected royal knights!"


    Upon hearing the greeting, Captain Diogo Cao turned around, revealing a solemn and resolute face. Then the solemnity in his eyes dispersed slightly, replaced by a gentle smile, and he nodded slowly.


    After spending two years at sea, Diogo returned to Lisbon this April and reported his maritime experiences to Sintra Palace. The establishment of Elmina Castle had pleased the court, the discovery of the Kingdom of Congo had surprised the nobility, and the concrete intel on the Elder¡¯s Kingdom had shaken the entire kingdom!


    King Joao II immediately summoned Captain Diogo Cao and inquired in detail about everything he had witnessed on his voyage. Next was the influential Archbishop of Lisbon, Jorge da Costa. Within a mere fortnight, Diogo was bestowed with the title of Royal Knight, awarded an annuity, and granted a family crest!


    "Bruno, come here."


    Diogo Cao beckoned and then smiled towards the other royal knight.


    "Dias, this is my kinsman, Bruno Cao. He ventured into the lands of the Demon, met the Congo Chieftain longing for the Almighty, and bravely seized the Coptic Cross from the clutches of the Demon¡¯s Angel Envoy!"


    "Oh? Such bravery! Ha, a true son of Aviz indeed!"


    Dias laughed heartily, voicing his admiration. In his early thirties and in the prime of his life, he possessed an inherently stern countenance. However, his years in the Lisbon court had softened his edges and made his smile more approachable. He reached out and affectionately patted Bruno on the shoulder.


    "Ha, I¡¯ve seen you! Four months ago, you went to Braganza Palace and submitted new plant specimens to the scholars, and received a handsome reward."


    Bruno, slightly embarrassed and then pleasantly surprised by the captains¡¯ praises, bowed his head and quickly repeated his gesture of courtesy.


    Dias maintained his smile and casually praised him a couple more times before turning serious.


    "The venerable Archbishop meticulously examined the returned Coptic Cross and, overwhelmed with joy, sent an Envoy to the most high Pope Sixtus IV to report. The court¡¯s messenger of good tidings has also taken the King¡¯s letter to the Holy See in Rome. The good news has traveled ahead, and the papal decree will arrive shortly. The subsequent exploration is imminent!"


    "Diogo, the King¡¯s hasty command for your southern exploration signifies his great hope in you and also pressure from the Holy See! The iris at the Cape gazes towards the very end of the ocean, please do not disappoint the heavy trust placed in you by the King!"


    Upon hearing this, Diogo Cao bowed his head resolutely and bent in reverence toward the northeast, in the direction of Braganza Palace.


    "The Almighty as my witness, I, Diogo Cao, swear upon my life! This voyage south, I am determined to explore the edge of the ocean, trace the river¡¯s source, search for signs of the Elder¡¯s Kingdom, until the very end of my days!"


    The solemn oath echoed between heaven and sea, and the flagship fell silent for a moment. Then, the priest aboard led everyone in a brief prayer, after which the dignitaries resumed their conversation.


    "Dias, I¡¯ve only just returned home and heard the powerful Ottomans are embroiled in internal strife, having halted their advance into the Balkan Peninsula... Is the mission to find the Elder¡¯s Kingdom still so urgent?"


    "Holy Mother bless us! Diogo, although the fearsome Sultan Mehmed II has passed away under the punishment of the Almighty, his attempt to send armies to invade the Italian Peninsula four years ago has plunged the whole Holy See into prolonged shock and unease." sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Before he died, Sultan Mehmed II left behind a barbaric law of fratricide for succession. The current turmoil in the Ottoman Empire is merely a limited struggle between two heirs; the majority of the influential Pashas have not participated. And Sultan Bayezid has already gained an absolute advantage¡ªthe internal chaos will soon end, and the Ottomans¡¯ advance to the west will continue..."


    "The kind Catholic World is perilously endangered under the threat of the Ottomans, urgently requiring our Eastern brethren who believe in the Almighty to lead their armies in support!"


    Upon hearing this, Diogo¡¯s face grew solemn. He slowly nodded, as if carrying the entire burden of the Catholic World on his shoulders.


    "However, the Ottomans in the East of the Mediterranean are, after all, distant. The invasion of the Ottomans is also of great concern to Pope Sixtus in Rome and Emperor Frederick of Shenluo. Dias, my old friend, mankind should only worry about what they can handle."


    Dias looked at his old friend for a moment, then advised him with a smile.


    "The great Prince Henry once told my grandfather: ¡¯Our future as Portuguese lies on the sea, we only need to consider three things!¡¯"


    Upon hearing the name of Prince Henry, the deck fell silent again, as everyone turned their attention expectantly.


    "Situated at the westernmost edge of the Catholic World, we are descendants of the iris by the sea. Our first task is maritime exploration! To continue delving into the ocean, venturing into an unknown world, seeking unclaimed lands!


    Our land is narrow, our people numbered; we must avoid conflicts on land at all costs. Our second task is the expansion at sea! To seize control of the islands within the seas, to occupy coastal lands, to expand our Kingdom."


    At this point, Dias paused. His expression became very serious, his voice more resonant.


    "The Castilians have blocked our eastern space, and they have always been greedy towards us. The last task is to be wary of Castilians! The Portuguese must preserve their independence. The mountain people of Avis, the fishermen, and the farmers must unite and always be vigilant against the Castilians!"


    Upon hearing this, the Portuguese sailors aboard began to loudly agree, cursing the Castilians from one end to the other. The nobility also quietly assented.


    "Dias, my friend. As an admirer of Prince Henry, I couldn¡¯t agree more with your words. However, I still have some perplexities in my heart."


    Diogo nodded profoundly. He approached Dias, speaking in a cautious voice audible only to the two of them.


    "You are the steward of the royal warehouses, deeply trusted by the king... How does the king regard the Kingdom of Castile, or rather, today¡¯s Kingdom of Spain? The idea of a Spanish-Portuguese union is nothing but a Castilian¡¯s vain fantasy, but it seems in the Kingdom¡¯s court, there is no shortage of voices in favor..."


    At these words, Dias¡¯s gaze flickered. He took a few steps towards the bow, with Diogo closely behind, while the others tactfully did not follow.


    "Diogo, as we all know, many from the kingdom¡¯s Great Nobility do not share the intense resentment towards the Castilians like the common folk do. They collude with the Spanish court, caring not for the future of the Portuguese but only for their own positions of power.


    Luckily, by the Holy Mother¡¯s blessing! Our respected King Joao possesses a foresight akin to a black kite, a lion¡¯s ambitious courage, as well as the will and capability to match it! His Majesty has never wished to be subordinate to others. On the contrary, concerning the Kingdom of Spain, he harbors even greater ambitions.


    His Majesty¡¯s only legitimate heir, Prince Afonso, has been betrothed since childhood to Isabel, the eldest daughter of the Catholic Monarchs of Spain, in a sacred marriage..."


    Dias paused, then fell silent. Diogo¡¯s expression changed, and he slowly nodded in understanding. He changed the subject, continuing.


    "I hope everything will unfold as His Majesty has planned. The Moors in the south of the Peninsula are now reduced to the capital of Granada, and the Spaniards are about to achieve their final victory in the Reconquista. When that time comes, if there are no other significant distractions for the Spaniards, the court in Madrid will surely turn its greedy eyes toward us.


    At that time, who can support us on land? The English? The French? Or perhaps the Moors across the Strait?"

 Chapter 524 - 256: Autumn of 1484 - Catholic World, Europe Before the Second Voyage

    The northeast trade winds caressed the coast, bringing the fresh scent of inland flora and propelling the sails towards distant shores. Here, the North Atlantic current forked to the south, forming the vast and gentle Canary Cold Stream. With the wind at our sails and the current in our favor, the journey from the Kingdom of Portugal to the Southern Continent was made ever so convenient, setting the hearts of navigators ablaze with anticipation.


    Dias raised his head, gazing toward the sky to the south. Enormous flamingos soared through the sea breeze, their red wings flickering like flames, igniting the hearts of those who watched from afar. The flamingo symbolized freedom and fantasy, and was also the solar bird of Ancient Egyptian mythology. The royal steward mused for a long while before speaking with a wry smile.


    "Diogo, we Portuguese can only rely on ourselves. The "Treaty of Windsor" has lasted a hundred years, and although the Kingdom of England is our steadfast ally, they are unable to provide much effective support on land. King Henry and King Richard are both amassing their armies, bracing for the final battle.


    This protracted war for the throne has been raging for nearly thirty years! The nobility of England has suffered tremendous losses, with at least 50 distinguished families extinguished and over a thousand nobles fallen in battle. The English people are already weary of war! No matter which king prevails in the end, they won¡¯t have the capacity to respond to us in the potential war with Spain in the short term."


    Diogo nodded heavily, his expression grave. In the brutal English Civil War, thousands of nobles and knights had perished, and countless fiefs had lost their lords. This had greatly weakened the strength of our allies and left the future direction of the Kingdom of England uncertain.


    "Dias, what about the neighbors¡ªthe French? Given the increasingly powerful United Kingdom of Spain, they must be wary, right? When I returned, I heard of the Spider King¡¯s death, and the new King Charles ascended the throne at just fifteen years old. The true power of the Valois dynasty now lies in the hands of the regent, ¡¯Madame la Grand¡¯¡ªAnne, the Dauphin of France, who is ¡¯the least foolish woman¡¯ in all of France!"


    "Diogo, your information is still astute. The Kingdom of France harbors hostility towards its powerful neighbor, the nascent Kingdom of Spain, but the French Royal Family is in the midst of divisive confrontation. The regent ¡¯Madame la Grand¡¯ is currently suppressing the challenges of Prince Louis of Orl¨¦ans. After annexing Burgundy, Anjou, Maine, and Provence, the French Royal Family has grown too powerful. Now only three to four lords still have substantial fiefs, and they all submit to the king¡¯s taxes and conscription."


    As he said this, Dias¡¯s eyes held yearning, and his words carried a touch of wistfulness.


    "Princess Anne has seized royal power and just convened the Estates-General in Tours. I heard that the delegates had initially agreed unanimously to limit royal authority, but once at the assembly, not one dared to speak out. In the end, the Estates-General became a one-woman show for ¡¯Madame la Grand,¡¯ a display of royal authority and a tool to suppress Prince Louis of Orl¨¦ans!" sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Diogo, when royal power becomes this strong, the obsolete Estates-General becomes all the more dispensable... This is likely the last influential Estates-General."


    Hearing this, Diogo nodded, his expression similarly wistful. When royal power is sufficient, there is no need to compromise with feudal lords and religious representatives, no concessions to exchange for support from all classes. In the eyes of Europe¡¯s elites of this era, only absolute monarchies symbolize strength and progress.


    "Dias, Prince Louis is no match for ¡¯Madame la Grand.¡¯ His unique status simply means that the royal family won¡¯t truly deal with him. Nonetheless, the French still possess enough force to balance the Spaniards on land."


    "Diogo, that¡¯s true, but the Kingdom of France¡¯s interests are more concentrated on the rich Italian city-states. They¡¯d rather go to Naples to drink wine than travel to the Pyrenees to play with goats alongside the uncouth Spaniards."


    Dias blinked and made a crude joke, then continued.


    "Don¡¯t forget, King Charles¡¯s grandmother was Duchess Marie of Anjou; he still nominally holds claim to the thrones of Naples and Sicily."


    Diogo didn¡¯t laugh. With a serious face, he replied.


    "May the Holy Mother bless us! Only true fools would overlook the threat of the Kingdom of Spain and rashly enter into the quagmire of the Italian Peninsula! It is a direct challenge to the Pope of Rome and the Austrian Emperor, bound to dilute the Catholic World¡¯s resistance. Do the French wish to betray the Catholic World and join hands with the nefarious Ottomans?!"


    Dias shrugged, his words laden with meaning.


    "My old friend, if you could suppress the Spaniards, would you be willing to ally with the Moors across the Strait?"


    At these words, Diogo¡¯s expression shifted, and he did not respond for a long time. Finally, he asked in a low voice.


    "Across the Strait, the Moorish Kingdom... any good news? Have they just watched their kin on the North Coast be conquered by the people from Castile?"


    "Unfortunately, it seems so."


    Dias shook his head regretfully.


    "The Braganza Palace discreetly sent envoys to the south... Ever since the fall of the Marinid dynasty, Granada has lost the support from across the Strait. The nascent Wattasid dynasty merely controls Northern Morocco and is internally decayed to the core. The returning court envoys reported that they have neither the desire nor the ability to challenge the Spaniards; instead, they are an easy target for conquest.

 Chapter 525 - 256: Autumn of 1484 - Catholic World, Europe Before the Second Voyage_2

    The Kingdom had never found a reliable ally, and now all it could do was place its hopes in the King¡¯s plans. Of course, if the opportunity arose to embroil the Spaniards across the Strait, or in some other quagmire they couldn¡¯t extricate themselves from, the Kingdom would gladly interfere in secret, wishing that our dangerous and greedy neighbors to the East would encounter even more trouble...


    Having listened to this, Diogo slowly exhaled. He devoutly looked towards the East and with his thumb, traced small crosses on his forehead, lips, and chest, praying fervently in Latin.


    "Per signum Sanctae Crucis, de inimicis nostris, libera nos, Domine Deus noster... Dias, it seems that currently, the only one willing and able to help us face the Spanish threat is..."


    "The Holy See."


    Dias nodded affirmatively.


    "The esteemed Pope Sixtus has always been friendly towards the Kingdom. Four years ago, the Pope signed a decree, approving the ¡¯Treaty of Alcaswash¡¯, which clarified the Kingdom¡¯s dominion over the seas, and also allowed us to end the Spanish War of Succession with some dignity. However, since this year, Pope Sixtus¡¯s health has not been good, and I fear that he will soon... This is also why the Archbishop of Portugal reported the news of Elder John¡¯s Kingdom to the Holy See immediately, sending the Coptic Cross."


    Upon hearing this, Diogo nodded in understanding. He clenched his fist to his chest, his emotions fluctuating, as he summarized each word.


    "Once the Pope is called by the Almighty, how the attitude of the new Pope towards the Kingdom will change is unpredictable... Only by finding traces of Elder John¡¯s Kingdom and mastering the routes of contact with our Eastern brethren can the Kingdom truly have lasting influence in the Holy See!


    And only by occupying the unclaimed lands by the sea and establishing key coastal strongholds to control the trade routes of the East can we, the Portuguese, have a future of strength and prosperity!


    Holy Mother bless! On this voyage, I will not stop, I will explore straight unto death!"


    Dias looked at his resolute friend, hesitating to speak. A faint premonition of ill fortune crossed his mind. After a while, he took out an ancient silver crucifix and carefully handed it over, saying softly,


    "Diogo, in the southern lands of the Demon, there are many irresistible evils! They enter our bodies unnoticed, stealing the lives of the Lord¡¯s Citizens. This is the Holy Relic left by my grandfather, take it with you. I hope it will grant you the Almighty¡¯s blessing on your journey into the heart of evil!"


    Diogo nodded gratefully, accepted the crucifix, and solemnly put it away. After thinking for a moment, he said in a serious tone.


    "Dias, during the last voyage, I wrote a journal, which detailed the course and landmarks after heading south from the Gold Coast. At the Equator, there¡¯s a difficult calm belt that requires ample paddlers and provisions. And in the deep sea far from the coast, the wind often changes; we need a new design for triangular sails... when I head down to the captain¡¯s quarters later, I¡¯ll give you the journal. If I don¡¯t return this time, the exploration beyond will be up to you!"


    Dias looked at his friend for a moment and then nodded slowly.


    "Fine! Diogo, on this voyage, the King has especially sent a new court advisor, a noble scholar and skilled cartographer from Nuremberg, Martin Behaim. He will accompany you to calculate latitudes with Jacob¡¯s staff and record the detailed southern route. If you are unfortunate... I will continue the exploration and search for the route to the East!"


    The sea breeze blew silently, carrying the moist air. Both men were heavy with thoughts, and for a while, neither spoke. After a bit, Dias spoke with a smile.


    "Diogo, the benevolent Almighty always protects us Portuguese. King Joao is wise and insightful, and the future of the Kingdom is always bright! During the two years of your last exploration, His Majesty has revealed the stature of a great King. Apart from valuing navigation and restarting the exploration plans, the King has promoted talents, appointed advisors, and made great efforts to revitalize the Kingdom, indeed accomplishing two major feats!"


    Upon hearing this, Diogo pondered briefly and asked in a low voice,


    "Two major feats? Dias, you are the King¡¯s confidant... When I returned, I heard that last year His Majesty executed Duke Ferdinand of Braganza and confiscated his lands..."


    Dias glanced around the deck and saw that people were chatting away at a distance before saying affirmatively,


    "Yes. The Duke of Braganza was dissatisfied with His Majesty¡¯s interference in noble succession rights and had secret correspondence with Queen Isabella. He was the most powerful noble in the Kingdom, and his fief was the largest... Centralizing the royal authority is the foundation of the Kingdom¡¯s strength. We cannot emulate the way of the Wall of Christ; it¡¯s probably also unsustainable.


    His Majesty is determined to centralize the royal family¡¯s power like the Kingdom of France. Next, there are still many real power nobles to handle in His Majesty¡¯s plan... Of course, navigating families like ours are most trusted by the King and need not worry about this."


    Upon hearing this, Diogo fell silent, his heart chilled. He pondered for a moment, then asked again,


    "During my audience with His Majesty, he inquired in detail about the gold production around Elmina Castle and the Gold Tribes nearby. He also asked about the military capabilities of the Songhai Kingdom and the Congo Kingdom, whether they are rich in Gold... is this second major act about minting coins?"


    "Diogo, my old friend, you do have the keen intuition of a Navigator!"


    S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 526 - 256: Autumn of 1484 - Catholic World, Europe Before the Second Voyage_3

    Dias smiled and exclaimed.


    "Relying on the gold obtained from the Gold Coast, His Majesty has restarted King Afonso¡¯s coin minting program. A new batch of Crusado ¡¯Crusade¡¯ gold coins is being minted!"


    The kingdom¡¯s gold coins prevailed among the Mediterranean countries and were even accepted by Arab merchants. For every 3.55 gram Crusado gold coin minted, the kingdom gained at least an 8% minting tax and attracted even more foreign merchants. In the commercial city-states of the Italian Peninsula, the influence of the kingdom was constantly rising. With a sufficient source of gold, the stability of kingdom coins even surpassed the Venetians¡¯ Ducat. Ah, the cunning Venetian merchants begrudged us to the point of itchy teeth, yet they were still helpless!


    Diogo, you also know that on the Southern Continent, among the ignorant nations, there was a different gold, silver, and copper exchange ratio from that of the Catholic World. Besides direct plundering and occupation, our merchant ships could continuously obtain gold from the Southern Continent through different precious metal exchange disparities! The profit from this, the royal financial advisors had already calculated in detail, was enough to make monarchs from various nations green with envy and crazed!"


    A smile finally appeared on Diogo¡¯s face. He stretched out his hand and vigorously patted his old friend¡¯s shoulder.


    "Excellent! Dias, the kingdom¡¯s hope lies in the vast and fertile Southern Continent, on the route to wealth in the East! May the Almighty bless us! Let us set sail again toward the unknown south, in search of the holy kingdoms, to obtain the wealth promised by the Lord..."


    Hearing these familiar prayers, Dias also pressed his friend¡¯s shoulder and recited loudly together.


    "Under the guidance of the Almighty, we will forge ahead bravely, spreading His glory and mercy throughout the ignorant nations along the way!...amen"


    The two exchanged smiles, looking together towards the south. That gaze was warm and bright, the world of the Lord; that gaze was cold and stern, the light of judgment.


    "...Set sail!"


    The signal flags waved, and a dozen or so Caravel ships raised their half-sails, forming a neat line, slowly sailing out of the harbor. The northeasterly trade winds never ceased, and the kingdom¡¯s fleet moved forward, quickly raising full sails, disappearing into the horizon.


    "Vaffanculo! Che minchione! Damn mathematician, damn court advisor! Braganza Palace is filled with fools with eyes on their asses!"


    On the shore of the port, a man in his thirties, tall and sturdy, with a hawk nose and a long face, high cheekbones, a pair of blue eyes, and reddish-brown hair, stared angrily at the direction where the ships had disappeared, incessantly muttering curses. He was dressed in a washed-out black robe of a commoner and wore a tattered but intact sailor¡¯s flat cap; the only valuable thing was his shiny pig-fat-polished calfskin pointed boots.


    Although his clothes were worn, the middle-aged man stood upright, his eyes filled with the stubbornness of a wild boar. He furiously roared until the last exploratory sailboat was out of sight, then suddenly crouched down, clutching his head and cursing softly.


    "Diamine! Cazzo! The great merchant Marco Polo once said, as did the astrologer Toscanelli! The world is round, China is where India begins, right across from Iberia and Ireland!


    ...A bunch of fools... Only we city-staters can see the true nature of the world! I will become the Fleet Commander, become nobility, become the Governor beyond the sea! I will lead the fleet from the west side of the ocean to the rich East!..."


    The middle-aged man was muttering to himself, but suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder. He looked up angrily and saw two towering Slav men, each with a large axe at their waist, pinning him between them. A skinny Jewish merchant, wearing a small round hat and sporting a long beard, casually walked up to him.


    "Columbus, this time the Portuguese exploration voyage doesn¡¯t include you! The Kingdom¡¯s court advisors have already refuted your calculated sailing route, and the last fleet found traces of Elder John¡¯s country... Your plan seems hopeless. And now it¡¯s time to settle the debt you owe me."


    With that, the Jewish merchant pulled a paper document from his bosom and began to read it slowly.


    "Six years ago, you borrowed 20 Ducat Gold Coins from me to cover the costs of lobbying various countries. At an annual interest rate of 48%, with the interest compounded into the principal, today you should owe me... hmm, 210 Ducat Gold Coins, plus 3 Grosso Silver Coins, and 16.5 Denarius Copper Coins. Hmm, considering our long acquaintance, I¡¯ll waive the 0.5 Denarius Copper Coin..."


    Hearing this, Columbus stood up abruptly. He swung his arms vigorously and roared angrily.


    "Vaffanculo! Merda! Eliyahu, you heretic from the Hell of Fire, you greedy dwarf snake, don¡¯t let these barbarians touch me! You only gave me 15 Ducats, and you want me to pay back 210?!..." sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It¡¯s 210 Ducat Gold Coins, 3 Grosso Silver Coins, and 16.5 Denarius Copper Coins. As for the 25% advance deduction, it¡¯s an industry standard."


    The Jewish merchant remained unfazed and waved his hand with a cold laugh.


    "Columbus, my patience is running thin! Are you going to pay up nicely now, or would you prefer to be tied to a stone and sunk to the bottom of the sea?"


    Upon seeing the signal, the two Slav men growled together and used their strength simultaneously. They forcibly dragged Columbus a few steps and hoisted him up on the pier, letting his head hang down over the deep sea.


    Fear finally appeared in Columbus¡¯s eyes. While struggling violently, he shouted loudly.


    "Eliyahu, give me a little more time! I will continue to lobby the monarchs of various countries, I will surely succeed! I¡¯ve long spent all the Gold Coins I had; even if you kill me now, you won¡¯t get anything! But, but! If you have just a little patience to wait, as soon as my voyage succeeds, you¡¯ll get 210 Ducats!..."


    Upon hearing this, Eliyahu narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Columbus¡¯s desperate expression. After a long while, he slowly nodded his head.


    "All right! Columbus, for the sake of our long acquaintance, I¡¯ll give you a bit more time. But..."


    Eliyahu reached into his bosom and pulled out a commercial contract he had prepared earlier.


    "You need to sign this!"

 Chapter 527 - 257: Craftsman Camp, Compound Bow and Mass-produced Bamboo Bow

    History is as vast and deep as the ocean, filled with unpredictable possibilities. At times it is calm and tranquil, at other times, waves sweep over it. Countless warm currents surge beneath the sea, flowing toward a perhaps predestined faraway place. The civilizations of various ethnic groups move forward in the lightless deep sea. They follow the currents, waiting for encounters they know nothing of.


    Only a fish that has traversed through time, falls from the distant sky into the water. It sees the path of the future clearly, struggles forward with all its might, desperately squeezes to the front of the school, and finally becomes a young leader. It searches for new directions, explores new possibilities, and leads the school behind it towards a brand new uncharted path!


    North of the Equator, the summer monsoon bridges the sea and land. It carries the exploration ships from Portugal to the Southern Continent, and it sends the moisture from the Caribbean Sea toward the western Lake Region. Amid the warm and abundant rainfall, the Lake Region¡¯s farmlands are lush and brimming with vitality. August thus passed in the rain, and September arrived with the wind.


    The weather in September was extremely hot, and layers of relaxed clouds enveloped Qinchongcan City. Xiulote looked up, observed the recently ceased cloud and rain, as well as the clear sky after the rain. He turned to the Head Warrior and laughed.


    "Haha, the heavy rain these past few days was really strong! It¡¯s as if the Great Lake in the sky had sprung a leak, who knows if it might have dropped any fish down?"


    "Your Highness, during the rainy season, the Valley in the Lake Region is actually still fine, at most there is just a lot of rainwater. If it were the low-lying lands by the sea where the Vastec people live, almost every one or two years, the Wind God would become enraged. When that happens, roaring wind beasts would sweep across the sky, destroying villages and farmlands they encounter, and truly drop countless leftover sea fish! Therefore, along the coastal regions, the faith in the Wind God is often second only to the Feathered Serpent Divine," Bertade explained with a calm expression. Behind him, two hundred Personal Guard Warriors clad in armor, holding their weapons, closely protected the traveling King.


    Xiulote was taken aback upon hearing this. After a moment of thought, he nodded his head.


    The Gulf of Mexico region is hot and rainy, often hit by typhoons during the rainy season, and typically these are disastrous hurricanes that even modern times find difficult to deal with. Once these hurricanes make landfall, they tend to deal a destructive blow to the agricultural society of this era. Therefore, the two groups Vastec and Totonac along the eastern coast, despite having fertile land, have never been populous. And their coastal lands cannot serve as a lasting foundation for operation.


    "Your Highness, I inquired with the old farmers of the Lake Region. Although this year¡¯s precipitation is high, it is still within normal levels. Lake Patzcuaro has risen only slightly, so it won¡¯t affect the farmlands along the lake too much. The substantial rainfall in August is actually good for the growth of maize, which will increase the harvest in October!"


    Upon hearing this, the young ruler showed a smile. His gaze passed over the busy camp of craftsmen and looked towards the horizon beyond the city.


    "This year¡¯s planting was late, and the villages were all a bit rushed. I do not ask for a large harvest in the Lake Region, just a decent yield, so that the hearts of the people of Prepetcha and the soldiers stationed in the fields can settle down! Then I can also free up my hands to deal with the nobility in the south..."


    As they were talking and laughing, Black Wolf Torc had already walked out of the camp of craftsmen with his chest puffed out and his head held high. He bowed his head to the King.


    "Your Highness, the inspection of the craft camp has been completed, and the Personal Guard Warriors have been positioned! The craftsmen of Prepetcha are all prepared and await Your Highness¡¯s inspection!"


    "Good!" Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote nodded and led the way into the craft camp. The Head Warrior and Black Wolf followed closely, along with a large group of guards.


    The army had only conquered Qinchongcan City a few months ago, and the craft camp now contained more than two thousand craftsmen who had been incorporated. When entering the camp for inspection, one must always remain extra vigilant. Once craftsmen from Tenochtitlan of Mexica relocate to the Capital City, the Divine Revelation Place near the palace area will officially start operating. At that time, the craftsmen in the camp will be further classified into ranks, organized into groups, and allocated to different places.


    Soon, the young King entered the craft camp and looked around. The entire camp was enclosed by sturdy bronze stone walls, occupying a vast amount of land. The warehouses in the camp stored large amounts of wood, stones, cotton, and leather. According to the current functions of the craftsmen, they could be roughly divided into four main areas, with two for civilian use and two for military production.


    Xiulote continued walking without stopping, first passing through the center for production of nobility goods. Previously exclusive to the Tarasco Royal Family, producing exquisite and luxurious palace wares, it was now used to make expensive trade goods.


    The young ruler¡¯s gaze lingered briefly on various exquisite palace colored pottery, nobility clothing, and gold and silver ornaments, then he walked away without a second glance. The Head Warrior followed close behind, equally undistracted. Black Wolf, a step behind, looked around curiously at the noble utensils along the way.


    Next, they came to the bustling center for the production of farming tools and wheelbarrows. The young King stopped, surveyed briefly. The managing warriors shouted loudly, and the busy craftsmen all bowed down, awaiting the King¡¯s inspection.


    Whether in the military or civilian settlements of the Lake Region, strict farming practices were enforced, and the per capita cultivated land area had to be significantly larger than before. Commonly used stone tools wore down easily, hence they needed constant repair and replacement. The production of wheelbarrows, crucial for transportation and challenging to make because the wheels had to be reinforced with metal, also easily broke. To improve efficiency, Xiulote had allocated a large number of craftsmen and sufficient bronze tools, specially to provide logistical support for the military and civilians in the fields.

 Chapter 528 - 257: Craftsman Camp, Compound Bow and Mass-produced Bamboo Bow_2

    ```


    The young King watched for a while, then personally pushed a single-wheel cart to try it out.


    The manufacture of wood-rimmed wheels with nails was a technical task that not only required specific wood but also demanded skilled craftsmanship. With the current level of production for single-wheel carts, they could only be used on the flat fields surrounding the lake region. As soon as the terrain became slightly undulating, or the area became thick with tree roots, the carts would quickly fall apart.


    After trying it for a moment, Xiulote nodded slightly, indicating that the quality was acceptable. He looked at the Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, reward the craftsmen who made the single-wheel carts and encourage them to further research reinforcement... Moreover, where are the bronze agricultural tools that I requested?"


    "At your command! Your Highness, the bronze agricultural tools are not here, but in the final manufacturing center."


    Xiulote hummed in acknowledgment and continued forward. Following closely behind him was the center for manufacturing military equipment.


    This was a military stronghold guarded by hundreds of Samurai, with over a thousand craftsmen busy at work. Divided into different groups, they were making Longbows, War Clubs, Copper Spears, shields, Cotton Armor, and Wooden Helmets. The military equipment center once supplied tens of thousands of soldiers from the Tarasco Royal Legion and had the largest number of craftsmen, concentrating the most talented master craftsmen.


    After walking for a while, Xiulote¡¯s gaze sharpened, and he stopped in his tracks in front of the largest workbench.


    He picked up a newly made Longbow lying before him and caressed it. The bow was smooth, made of cedar wood, and simply varnished. Noteworthy, though, was that with the string removed, the two ends of the Longbow curved significantly inward, forming an obvious arc. The main body of the bow bent away from the archer, resembling a long-used carrying pole.


    Xiulote lowered his eyes slightly, and a flurry of fleeting memories surged in his heart, accompanied by flashes of war scenes. Then, he stood the Longbow upright to measure it, and the linear length of the bow was just one meter sixty-seven, more suited for combat on the battlefield. The young monarch pondered for a moment and, when he looked again at the elderly craftsman before him, his demeanor had turned authoritative.


    "Recurved end on a Short Bow... Did you make this Longbow, and why design it this way?"


    "Yes, this is crafted by my own hands, having modified it based on the Mexica Longbow."


    The craftsman before him was in his early fifties, with an antiquated appearance. He wore a flat leather cap denoting his status, with more than ten apprentices standing with folded hands behind him, clearly a master craftsman. Upon hearing the King¡¯s inquiry, the master craftsman respectfully bowed his head and explained in detail.


    "Your Majesty, I have experimented with bow limbs of various lengths and stiffness, as well as studied the characteristics of Longbows made from different materials. This kind of small-tipped recurved Long Wooden Bow is capable of maintaining range and power while effectively shortening the length of the bow. Its shaping is slightly complex, but it does not increase difficulty, nor does it require high-quality materials.


    In fact, I also have a small-tipped bow made of bamboo here. Its range is about seventy percent that of a cedar bow, and it uses slightly shorter Arrows. The bamboo bow has a bit less power, only able to damage Leather Armor within 60 steps, and injure clothed Militia within 90 steps. However, it¡¯s very cheap to produce, allowing for rapid mass deployment, which was initially prepared for the previous... conflicts. Similarly, this type of bamboo bow is not demanding on arrows, significantly reducing arrow manufacturing costs."


    The master craftsman watched the King¡¯s expression cautiously, and carefully took out a recurved bamboo bow. Xiulote took the bow and tried it, his expression shifting immediately.


    "The draw weight is about 60 pounds, even ordinary Militia can use it... Low-cost mass production, the bamboo bow, feather-light..."


    The young monarch pondered thoughtfully, murmuring to himself. After a moment, he looked at the standing master craftsman before him and smiled with satisfaction.


    "A very nice improvement, very useful research! Tell me your name."


    "Your Majesty, I am a ¡¯Bowyer¡¯ from Prepetcha, Kundili."


    ```


    Kundili straightened up and proudly announced his title. This was a hereditary title, meaning "the person who makes bows in the tribe." It also signified the highest level among bowyers.


    Hearing this, Xiulote nodded in understanding. The people of Prepetcha had a vast group of craftsmen skilled in craftsmanship, who were the first in the entire world to discover and use bronze weapons. The fact that their master craftsmen were able to study and improve longbows was not beyond the king¡¯s expectations.


    The young king pondered for a moment before making a decisive choice. He looked solemn as he spoke aloud.


    "Kundili, you have improved the longbow well! From today on, you are a noble of military merit in the kingdom, conferred with a fief just like the samurai! I appoint you as the head of longbow production in the capital city and entrust you with two tasks!"


    At these words, Kundili¡¯s mouth fell open in disbelief.


    Under the traditional three-level system of the Tarasco Kingdom, he would have been a craftsman for life with no chance of becoming nobility. The air around them grew still, and the other craftsmen were also full of shock. It wasn¡¯t until the apprentice behind him quietly kicked him in the rear that he finally knelt down to worship the king of the fief.


    "Your Majesty, thank you for your conferment, I will serve you unto death!"


    "Serving unto death is unnecessary. You must keep yourself useful, using your wisdom and experience to further refine the longbow!"


    Xiulote gave a faint smile. By now, he was accustomed to people willing to die for him, and such declarations hardly stirred him anymore.


    "Kundili, you have two tasks. The first is to research the new style of greatbow with a compound bow body! It must have a shorter body and greater force. Since you have already crafted longbows from fir and bamboo separately, you surely have a deep understanding of these two materials. Therefore, start with the bamboo-wood composite bow! You can use bamboo and wood laminated together, bonded with cornash paste to make a double-layered bow body... You figure out the specific process! Someone will later give you some brief hints to use as a reference."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was serious, not revealing too much. Regarding the production of composite bows, he had only fragmented memories and simply put forth suggestions for these true master craftsmen to refer to.


    "The second task is to determine the standard design of this individual bamboo bow, its service life, and the arrows used! Then I will assign a trusted aide to assist you in organizing manpower for mass production. I want this type of bamboo bow to be extensively equipped. The lower the cost, the better, as long as it can threaten a samurai within 60 steps!"


    Xiulote extended his hand and tousled the other¡¯s hair. Kundili¡¯s eyes immediately shone. He bowed to the ground, again respectfully acknowledging the commission. The faces of the craftsmen behind him clearly showed envy.


    Seeing this, the young king nodded and looked around before speaking out loud once more.


    "By the name of the king, I declare: The Alliance will adopt new policies, different from the old Tarasco system! All craftsmen, regardless of origin, as long as they can focus on their work and produce high-quality equipment consistently and steadily; saving manpower and materials, improving on existing production; or even further, developing more efficient new tools... The Alliance will not stint, rewarding generously with cotton fabric, gold and silver, land, and even nobility!"


    The king¡¯s voice carried far and wide, echoing throughout the grand camp of craftsmen. They knelt down, letting out a chorus of surprised murmurs. Then, a low buzz of discussion spread through the camp like the humming of bees. Even the samurai responsible for defense revealed a look of perplexity and aspiration on their faces. However, after the western conquest, the king had already acquired ample authority to suppress any dissent, ensuring his will was completely implemented!


    Xiulote turned his head and gave a couple of brief orders, and immediately a trusted aide brought paper and pen to write a notice filled with diagrams and text, before pinning it up at the center of the craftsman camp.


    The supreme king stretched out his finger, pointing out the direction to his followers. They explored forward, but the king¡¯s footsteps did not linger, for he had much more to do.


    Xiulote glanced back at Kundili, who was still kneeling, and then proceeded with his trusted aides to the innermost area. There lay the kingdom¡¯s secret workshop, the center of bronze production.


    S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 529 - 258: Bronze Smelting

    A group strode briskly, passing through the tall greenstone walls of the inner layer and by the bowing samurai standing guard, arriving at an exceedingly spacious open-air workshop, the center for bronze production.


    Xiulote surveyed his surroundings, his eyes gleaming. This was his first time seeing a large-scale metal smelting and casting site.


    The vast workshop, like a square in its breadth, had an outdoor working area at the center, surrounded by a ring of sturdy storage stone houses. Heaps of red copper materials, white tin materials, and dark charcoal piled up like mountains in the corners, with rows of copper vessels, copper farm tools, and bronze weapons laid out in arrays, emitting red, yellow, and even blue glows. At the outermost layer of the copper utensils, a bronze cannon, just over a meter long, lay silently on the ground, shimmering with a dark golden hue.


    Inside the workshop, near the wall, were rows of more than a dozen clay vertical furnaces for refining copper, along with twice the number of small brick furnaces. Dim red flames burned inside the furnaces while billows of hot air rose up beside the vertical furnaces. The air was filled with the smell of copper green powder, the charred odor of burning wood, and the mixed smell of sweat.


    Xiulote took a light sniff, his eyelid twitched, and his eyebrows knitted slightly. Then, his gaze lingered on the bronze cannon for a brief moment before he walked expressionlessly towards the center of the workshop. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the center, dozens of samurai stood solemnly with spears in hand. Hundreds of coppersmiths, shirtless, kneeled on the ground in unison, their sweat already soaking the muddy earth. At the very front of the craftsmen knelt two craftsman leaders in short garments, each with a copper-trimmed leather cap on their heads.


    The two craftsman leaders lay prostrate and breathless, watching a pair of deerskin boots approaching closer and closer before their eyes. Although the boots were plain in style, they walked steadily, step by step, in the center of everyone¡¯s attention, until they stopped in front of the two men. Only then did the craftsman leaders simultaneously perform a respectful salute and raised their heads slightly, greeting loudly.


    "Master craftsman of Qinchongcan, the person in charge of the Bronze Workshop, master of smelting, Chalape Tiyam (Tilipi Tiyam), pays respects to Your Revered Majesty!"


    Xiulote nodded, his expression calm. His mind flashed with many distant memories, as well as the recent narratives of the learned elder.


    In the Prepetcha language, "Tiyam" means metal. And the Tiyam family has been the family entrusted with metal matters through the generations. From the recently appointed chief Jatili, Xiulote gained a deep understanding of this family¡¯s origins and development.


    At the beginning of Tarasco Kingdom, the "Tiyam" Metal Family was still at the third level of the three-tier system. But with the expansion of copper trade over a hundred years and the invention of bronze technology at the beginning of this century, the significance of the Metal Family gradually increased. Eventually, during the reign of the third predecessor monarch, they were promoted to nobility of the second level in the court, directly subordinate to the Royal Family, although without a fief.


    Yes, contrary to many people¡¯s stereotypes in later generations, it was not until he arrived in this era that Xiulote was astonished to find that the civilization of Central America in the 15th century was already in the early stages of the Bronze Age, boasting a very prosperous copper trade. "Chalape" means red, Chalape Tiyam is red metal, copper in the Prepetcha language. This special name was also passed down by the leaders of the Metal Family, serving generation after generation as the kingdom¡¯s Copper Official.


    Red copper is the pure copper with a purplish-red color. Throughout the world, the Red Copper Era had lasted for hundreds of years. In the murals of the fourth era, there were scenes of the Urixiu Kingdom engaging in copper trade. The Patzcuaro Lake region of the Prepetcha people and the Oaxaca mountains of the Zapotecs are the two main copper production centers in the world. And the Kingdom of the Lake not only produced abundant copper mines but also possessed the most sophisticated bronze casting technology and was the first to establish specialized copper workshops.


    Bronze is an alloy of copper and tin, sometimes mixed with a certain proportion of lead to overcome the brittleness of bronze. The world¡¯s tin mines are mainly located in the land of Jontal controlled by the Mexica Alliance, along the banks of the Tarsas River, in the Teysiscatlapan state. That place is not far from the land of the lake.


    Bronze technology first appeared in the Tarasco Kingdom and was continuously used in weapon forging. At the Qinchongcan site of later generations, a large number of bronze axes and spearheads were found. As the wars continued, bronze technology was gradually spreading to the surrounding nations; recently, the Mexica Alliance has been able to cast bronze weapons. However, the best copper-tin mixing ratio is still considered secret, firmly held in the hands of the Divine Eagle Royal Family.


    In the local language, "Tilipi" means gold, Tilipi Tiyam is gold metal, referring to bronze here. This inherited title, which means bronze forger, appeared only a few decades ago and also represents the formal maturity of the Tarasco Kingdom¡¯s bronze technology. And the current Tilipi is the third to bear this title.


    Thinking this, the King slightly gathered his thoughts and examined the two men before him carefully.


    Smelting and casting bronze is a job that requires both physical strength and skill. The two craftsman leaders, brothers to each other, were both in their strong forties. The elder brother Chalape on the left had a smile in his eyes, slightly older. He was adept at smelting, a senior Copper Official often dealing with the Royal Family and the Nobility, making him a technical bureaucrat. At that moment, Chalape¡¯s demeanor was respectful yet natural, his face slightly plump, with a smooth smile on his cheeks.


    "Chalape, the learned elder has mentioned you to me. I hear that after your conversion, you pray day and night, devoutly believing in the Chief Divine, willing to dedicate the rest of your life to the divine?"

 Chapter 530 - 258 Bronze Smelting_2

    "Yes, Your Majesty. The Chief Divine commands infinite strength, dominating light and fire! Ever since I devotedly believed in the Chief Divine, I have been filled with strength even when smelting bronze..."


    "Excellent! The Chief Divine blesses us. His radiance does not discriminate among races, descending upon everyone!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote smiled and nodded lightly. After becoming the chief, Jatili had fully utilized his influence, recommending many names to him, among which Chalape was one. They were among the first group of Prepetcha people who actively aligned with the Alliance and joined the governance of the Fief.


    "Tilipi, I heard that the King Su¡¯angua has a set of bronze armor, highly durable, impenetrable by arrows... Hmm, was it forged by you?"


    Tilipi, to his right, pursed his lips, a bit younger. He was a pure master craftsman, possessing the kingdom¡¯s most outstanding bronze casting techniques, yet he lacked experience in dealing with the nobility. At this moment, faced with the king¡¯s inquiry, he appeared much more restrained, and his face also showed clear nervousness.


    "Your... Majesty, the bronze armor was forged by me years ago... At that time, my skills were not yet mature... The armor¡¯s parts were not well connected, it was not as highly durable as said... Most importantly, it was too heavy..."


    "Forgive me, Your Majesty! Tilipi was ignorant temporarily, serving the false king Su¡¯angua... Now he has devotedly converted to the Chief Divine, willing to dedicate his life to you!..."


    Chalape raised his head, looking at the king¡¯s expression, cautiously interjected a word. Meanwhile, he stretched out his hand, quietly pulling at his clan brother¡¯s short robe.


    Xiulote glanced indifferently at Chalape, who immediately bowed his head in awe. He then looked at Tilipi, the master craftsman who now had his mouth shut tight, staring stiffly at the king. The workshop fell silent for a moment, everyone sweating from their foreheads.


    "Ha ha! Right, devout belief leads to a bright future."


    The king spoke out with a laugh, immediately easing the atmosphere in the room.


    "Chalape, you are skilled in smelting bronze, come, tell me about the process of refining bronze!"


    Chalape nodded repeatedly. He stood up and led Xiulote to the front of the vertical copper furnace inside.


    "Your Majesty, this is the vertical furnace for refining bronze! It is built using the Earth Mother Goddess¡¯s clay and possesses the power bestowed by the Chief Divine, capable of divinely reinforcing copper... The entire furnace can roughly be divided into three parts: the furnace base at the bottom, the furnace belly that holds the mineral materials, and the outer furnace body..."


    Xiulote stretched out his arm, measuring the specific dimensions of the vertical furnace. The entire furnace was about one person tall, half a person wide, resembling a giant clay jar buried in the soil. From the bottom of the furnace belly to the top of the furnace, it was slightly over 1.2 meters, the material column was just over 1 meter, and the thickness of the furnace walls was between 30-40 centimeters. With a quick estimate, he figured out that the furnace belly¡¯s capacity was about one-third of a cubic meter, which was also the maximum volume of bronze that could be smelted in a single operation,


    "Your Majesty, the furnace base is below the furnace belly, it has a wind groove connected to the Wind God¡¯s power, and there is also a narrow wind vent above the furnace belly. At the lower part of the front wall of the furnace, there is a gold gate for discharging material and a slag hole..."


    Xiulote looked at the wind groove and the wind vent, knowing these were channels for oxygen to flow in, yet he saw no dedicated bellows equipment.


    "Your Majesty, every time the furnace is built, three or four thousand kilograms of copper material and several hundred to a thousand kilograms of tin material can be loaded inside. Both the copper and tin materials need to be melted once first, passed through a small furnace to remove the slag inside."


    Saying that, Chalape pointed with his hand towards the other side, where there was a long-term melting furnace built with green bricks, only half the size of the vertical furnace. Then, he pointed again at the large furnace in front of them.


    "Chief Divine bless! Thousands of kilograms of copper and tin materials in the large furnace will be smelted into bronze. Preparing the copper and tin takes a day, building the furnace takes about a day. The furnace needs to heat up until the copper and tin melt, which takes a whole day. Thorough mixing also takes a day. Waiting for it to cool down and extinguishing the fire, then pushing the furnace down and retrieving the bronze, again takes a day..."


    At this point, Chalape looked at the king, his face brimming with pride.


    "Chief Divine bless! Your Majesty, in total, about five days, each furnace can produce an astonishing over four thousand kilograms of bronze!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was unchanging as he slowly nodded. However, his heart felt somewhat disappointed, as each furnace¡¯s daily yield was not even a thousand kilograms, and building and dismantling took two days. Thinking of this, the king furrowed his brow.


    "Chalape, this clay furnace of yours, is it a one-time use?"


    "Indeed, Your Majesty!"


    Chalape nodded affirmatively.


    "The furnace must be tightly sealed for the fire to reach sufficient heat. After burning, to retrieve the bronze, the furnace must be dismantled. If there is enough manpower, building and dismantling furnaces is not troublesome. Actually, what¡¯s truly lacking here in the workshop is the supply of copper!"


    "Not enough fire... low temperature... oxygen supply through bellows..."


    Xiulote fell into deep thought. He tried to recall the bellows from the countryside in later generations, but his memory was somewhat unclear. He thought about the principle for a moment and stretched out his hand. The Head Warrior, prepared as always, timely handed over paper and pen. The young King then personally drew a simplified bellows in front of Chalape.


    "Chalape, to increase the fire, we need bellows. You should make a batch of large clay pots, bind the mouth with a piece of semi-folded deerhide, and create a functioning inlet valve on the deerhide. Leave a hole in the pot wall, then attach a clay air tube, seal the joint with mud, and lead it into the furnace... this way, when you pull up the deerhide, the folded valve will open to inhale. When you press down the deerhide, the valve on it will close, pushing the air in the pot into the furnace... pulling and pressing, the whole process is like beating a drum. The speed of bellows depends on how fast you pull and press the deerhide!"


    Observing His Majesty¡¯s drawing and explanation, Chalape showed a look of astonishment. He was just constructing the scenario in his mind when a soft exclamation came from beside him, followed by the voice of his clan brother Tilipi.


    "Open the inlet, close it to press air... Hmm, Your Majesty, you are truly ingenious!" S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Upon hearing this, Chalape¡¯s face darkened. He cautiously looked towards the King but saw that the King was unconcerned, even smiled a bit.


    "Chalape, the charcoal kilns and clay brick kilns outside the city are being built. In addition to the bellows, from now on, a batch of high-quality charcoal will be provided to you every month as a priority. You must build a series of vertical furnaces made of green bricks, to prepare for large-scale bronze refining!"


    "As for the sources of copper and tin, I will resolve that myself!"


    "At Your Majesty¡¯s command!"


    Upon hearing Xiulote¡¯s decree, Chalape quickly pulled his clan brother, and together they bowed to the King. Then, he stood up and continued to guide the King to a row of bronze weapons. Bertade¡¯s expression became solemn, and he patted Black Wolf¡¯s shoulder. Two Great Generals then stepped forward, hands on their weapons, tightly guarding His Highness on either side.


    "With the protection of the Chief Divine, according to the Kingdom¡¯s experience over decades, the best copper to tin ratio is..."


    Chalape paused, cautiously looking at the King before him.


    "Your Majesty, this is a state secret. Your trusted aides behind you..."


    "Chalape, speak freely! They are all my trusted aides, there¡¯s no need to avoid them. Moreover, I will assign some of them to join you in the production of bronze."


    Xiulote shook his head, the current scale of bronze smelting and casting was still too small; production needed to be rapidly expanded. Once production was expanded, more people had to be involved. Spaniards would arrive in America in less than ten years, and these so-called secrets were actually meaningless.


    "Ah... Your Majesty... at your command..."


    Under the vigilant eyes of the Head Warrior, Chalape reached out his hand towards the bronze weapons in front of him and respectfully said.


    "Casting durable bronze articles should use five parts copper to one part tin; casting broad-edged bronze axes, four parts copper to one part tin; casting sharp bronze spearheads, three parts copper to one part tin... generally speaking, the more tin added, the harder the bronze weapons get, but they also become more brittle and prone to breaking..."


    "Good! Chalape, you have summarized well!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote nodded in admiration. His mind was filled with a line of familiar words.


    "Five parts of its metal with one part tin, called the equal of axes and mauls; four parts of its metal with one part tin, called the equal of halberds and spears; three parts of its metal with one part tin, called the equal of broad blades... Bronze axes, bronze spears, and bronze swords..."


    Thinking of this, the King¡¯s expression became solemn as he turned to another Master beside him.


    "Tilipi, where is the bronze sword I had you forge?"

 Chapter 531 - 259: Bronze Qin Sword, Bronze Cloth Armor!

    The sky was clear, and the clouds distant. Surrounding the solemn samurais, the King¡¯s voice sounded as if it came from the Divine Kingdom, bearing an undeniable majesty.


    Tilipi bowed his head and pursed his lips, slowly drawing a bronze sword tinged with cyan and gold from the bottom of the weapon rack. Then, he bent down and carefully lifted the Bronze Sword above his head with both hands.


    "Your Majesty, this is the Bronze Sword forged from the mold made according to your blueprint! Following your instructions, I increased the tin content and added some lead during the casting process. This sword is quite sharp, capable of stabbing through Leather Armor and also slicing through Cotton Armor..."


    At this point, Tilipi hesitated, wanting to say more but stopping himself. He maintained his bowed and bent position, unseen by the King.


    The King extended his hand, took the Bronze Sword, and held it horizontally in front of his chest, examining it closely. According to his memory of the design, this sword was a standard Qin Sword. The blade was about an arm¡¯s length, roughly 60 centimeters, about a finger wide, with the widest part not exceeding 6 centimeters, and the thickness around half a finger joint, approximately 1 centimeter. The hilt was about 15 centimeters long, suitable for one or both hands to grasp. The entire Qin Sword resembled a willow leaf, with eight facets, slightly thicker in the middle, and its edges emitting a chilling gleam.


    "Hmm, the King of Qin swept across the realms, a tiger watching his prey!"


    Xiulote was quite excited, gently touching the sharp Sword Blade, his face revealing a smile that came from the heart. Scenes of black-armored soldiers and long-range crossbows from familiar films flashed across the King¡¯s mind, matching his current ambitions... After examining it for a moment, he smiled and said to Black Wolf Torc.


    "This Qin Sword was just forged and hasn¡¯t shown its edge yet. Black Wolf, you are my trusted aide and accustomed to battlefield slaughter, come test this sword for me!"


    Toltec bowed and was eager to try. He first received the sword, testing its handle, then touched the sharp edge of the Sword Blade with his fingers and nodded. Then, with a questioning look, Black Wolfs brow furrowed and he asked,


    "Your Highness, what does this ¡¯Qin¡¯ signify?"


    "Haha! This ¡¯Qin¡¯ is a disciplined beast, like a surge of black wolves. ¡¯Qin,¡¯ like Black Wolf, is your name!"


    Hearing this, Toltec showed a pleased expression. He grasped the Qin Sword and walked briskly to a wooden mannequin nearby used for weapon testing. A trusted aide had already dressed it in Leather Armor. Black Wolf held the sword with one hand, steadied himself, and then suddenly lunged forward, issuing a loud battle cry.


    "Break!"


    "Rip!" A brief flash of cold light passed, and the Qin Sword thrust straight forward, forcefully piercing the Leather Armor. The sharp point penetrated several inches. Satisfied, Black Wolf nodded, then pulled the Qin Sword out and held it obliquely. He stepped back, gripped the sword with both hands, took a deep breath, and then delivered a powerful slash!


    "Cut!"


    "Rip!" Under the tremendous force, the Qin Sword traced a fierce arc of light, where the rushing wind was almost audible. Then, blade and armor paused just briefly before smoothly slicing through, leaving a cut nearly ten centimeters long!


    "Lord Black Wolf is truly valiant!"


    Seeing this sharp strike, the surrounding trusted aides all praised in unison. Xiulote also smiled and nodded.


    However, Toltec stood still. He repositioned the Qin Sword horizontally in his hands, his brow deeply furrowed as he meticulously inspected the stressed part of the blade.


    "Eh? ... This slash just now... this feeling?..."


    "Black Wolf, this Qin Sword is incomparably sharp and extraordinarily tough. I intend to use it extensively on the battlefield, what do you think?"


    Xiulote beckoned, signaling Black Wolf to come closer. He smiled as he looked at his trusted aide. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, this sword is indeed incomparably sharp, but as for being tough... allow me to test it for you!"


    Black Wolf examined the Sword Blade for a moment, then swung it through the air twice, becoming more certain of his judgment. He returned to stand before the King, raising his head to propose,


    "Eh? Test the sword for me?... Okay!"


    Xiulote was slightly taken aback. He raised his hand, signaling Black Wolf to proceed as he pleased.


    Toltec called over a trusted aide, instructing him to hold the sword horizontally with both hands. Then, he took out his extended War Club from behind, gripped it with both hands, and raised it above his head. The valiant Black Wolf adjusted the angle of the Obsidian shards and once again burst out in a powerful yell, forcefully striking down.


    "Break!"


    "Clang! Crack! Clank!" The sharp Obsidian Club struck right in the middle of the Bronze Sword, the sound of metal clashing abruptly filled the air, followed by an unusually clear sound of metal breaking, and then the sound of the sword falling to the ground!


    "What!"


    Xiulote widened his eyes in shock. Right before his eyes, the Qin-style Bronze Sword had completely snapped in the middle, becoming utterly useless. He inspected the break closely; the fracture was quite neat, showing the dense texture of bronze, as if it had been cut by a diamond blade.


    "Your Majesty, forgive me!"


    Seeing this, Tilipi "thudded" to his knees. He spoke loudly in his defense.


    "Your Majesty, well, this... these Alliance¡¯s Gemstones are much sharper than the ordinary bronze of the Kingdom! Additionally, the long and thin make of the sword supplied by you, aimed at maintaining sharpness, also had too much tin added... In my opinion, the design of this Bronze Sword itself has a flaw and couldn¡¯t be used for extended periods on the battlefield!..."


    "What?!"


    "Uh... Your Majesty, forgive me!..."


    Xiulote abruptly turned around, glaring fiercely at Tilipi. The astounded Caster Master immediately felt cold all over, pressing his whole body to the ground, tightly shutting his mouth. His brother, Chalape, also sweated profusely, kneeling beside him.


    "Why would this happen?"


    The young King snatched the Bronze Sword¡¯s broken blade, inspecting it closely for a moment. The blade¡¯s edge still emitted a cold light, but the middle of the break was slightly deformed, clearly lacking in toughness. He then took the refined War Club from Black Wolf¡¯s hand, examined the somewhat worn Obsidian shards on it, tiny gold flecks flickering in the sunlight, dazzling and flowing.

 Chapter 532 - 259: Bronze Qin Sword, Bronze Cloth Armor!_2

    Seeing this, Xiulote became somewhat irritated. He paced back and forth with his hands behind his back, deep in thought.


    "Mohs scale of hardness¡­"


    The Mohs hardness is a measure of one object¡¯s ability to scratch another and more so reflects sharpness. Obsidian Stone¡¯s Mohs hardness ranges from 5.2 to 6.2 and is a natural glass but prone to shattering. Copper has a Mohs hardness of only 3, while bronze ranges from 5 to 6. Iron has a Mohs hardness of 4, carbon steel at 5.5 to 6, and manganese steel reaches 6.5.


    These numbers show that the sharpness of the Obsidian Club, Bronze Sword, and Steel Sword isn¡¯t significantly different; it¡¯s just that the cost and toughness are worlds apart. Steel Swords are inexpensive to produce and can bounce back even after bending over forty degrees during combat. Bronze Swords cost much more, and the metal¡¯s toughness rapidly decreases as the hardness increases, prone to breaking at moderate angles. Obsidian production is entirely dependent on natural occurrences and severely lacks toughness. A single battle would completely wear down the sharp edges on the club.


    Xiulote knew that superior quality Obsidian Stone hardness was around 6, similar to high-hardness jadeite, and could outperform early Bronze Swords that were not maturely heat-treated, which wasn¡¯t surprising to him. But, what he hadn¡¯t anticipated was the fragility of the highly anticipated Bronze Qin Sword; it simply couldn¡¯t last long on the battlefield!


    "It shouldn¡¯t be so prone to breaking with insufficient toughness, it¡¯s only 60 centimeters long! The Bronze Qin Swords from the latter period of the Warring States are lengthened to 90 centimeters! After being unearthed from the Terracotta Army, they were still sharp and sturdy... There must be some problem with the craftsmanship!"


    "High tin content makes it sharp, low tin content makes it sturdy; the Bronze Qin Sword combines both, being sharp yet sturdy!... How to maintain a sharp edge while also ensuring a sturdy core?"


    Xiulote pondered for a long time. Memories of the past surfaced one after another, bringing him many fleeting inspirations. The answer seemed on the brink of revelation. But some secrets are not to be unraveled in a moment. After a long while, the King shook his head reluctantly.


    "Toltec, what do you think of this style of Bronze Sword?"


    "Your Highness, Bronze Long Swords are sharp but easily breakable, offering no significant advantage over War Clubs. We can switch to half-arm-length short swords for close-quarters thrusting kills!"


    Toltec recalled the scenes of the battlefield and said aloud.


    "However, at that distance, Bronze Hand Axes are usually used. They can split open both Leather Armor and Cotton Armor! Also, during marching, Hand Axes can be used to chop obstructing vegetation and for hacking firewood. They use less bronze too, so it¡¯s more practical!"


    Xiulote nodded slowly after a moment of thought. He had encountered the Tarasco Royal Legion during his western campaign, who had Bronze Long Spears, double-handed Bronze Axes, and Bronze Hand Axes but no Bronze Long Swords. There naturally existed objective reasons. Only then did he turn to the two Masters kneeling on the ground, speaking in a softer tone.


    "This isn¡¯t your fault. Stand up, both of you!"


    "Tilipi, continue organizing manpower to research the casting of Bronze Swords. The final product must be both sharp and sturdy... No excuses, this is a Royal Decree! I can assure you that it is achievable through some mixing methods! Chalape, you get involved as well."


    "As you command, your Majesty."


    Xiulote nodded. Chalape quickly gestured, ordering the apprentices to take away the broken Bronze Sword. He smiled and hastily changed the subject respectfully. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Majesty, your wisdom is as profound as the sky, and your authority as dazzling as the sun! Based on the model armor you provided us, the new Cloth Bronze Armor has been successfully replicated!"


    As Chalape spoke, he took a heavy set of dark Cloth Armor from the apprentice with both hands, as two of them presented it to the King. The outer layer was sewn from green cloth, filled with cotton and studded with dense bronze plates using bronze nails. The top of the Armor was stitched with spreading shoulder and armpit guards, and below there extended a protective skirt... Overall, the style of the Cloth Armor was very similar to the common bright armor of the era.


    "Your Majesty, this is a long-sleeve Armor with extremely strong protection! The size of the bronze plates is about half a palm, and there are 240 plates. The tin content of the forged plates is around one-tenth, to maintain toughness as much as possible. Following the suggestion of the Head Warrior, like a valiant eagle, the plates prioritize the vulnerable chest, abdomen, shoulders, ribs, and waist, totaling thirteen jin of cotton and thirty-two jin of bronze, weighing forty-five jin! Look, it¡¯s almost impervious to Arrows and resistant to Axes and Spears¡ªa gift from the Heavenly Divine!"


    Xiulote was taken aback by this and called out loudly.


    "Forty-five jin?! Such Heavy Armor! Toltec, give it a try and test the defense!"


    "At your command!"


    Two trusted aides draped the heavy Armor over a wooden mannequin nearby. Toltec licked his lips, grasped the club with both hands, and stepped in front of the Armor. Then, with a loud yell, he struck furiously with all his might, swinging the War Club in his hands.


    "Break!"


    "Slash!"


    "Smash!"


    Toltec struck with all his strength, and the War Club made a terrifying howl through the air, hitting the Heavy Armor with a loud "bang bang" sound. After several blows, the Black Wolf, gasping for breath, looked at the long-sleeve Armor in front of him, his face showing shock. The outer cloth layer had been cut through by sharp edges, and some of the bronze plates inside were deformed, yet the whole suit of Heavy Armor was almost intact!


    ```


    "Good, very good!"


    Having witnessed the defense of the heavy armor, Xiulote was overjoyed. He called out again.


    "Switch to the longbow!"


    Toltec nodded solemnly, cautiously stepped back, nocked a well-crafted copper arrow, drew the hundred-pound longbow, and released it like a bolt of lightning!


    "Ding!" The copper arrow pierced the cloth, struck the tall armor, and then fiercely bounced off.


    "60 steps, no damage."


    "Ding!" It bounced off again.


    "50 steps, no damage."


    "Ding! Tear!" The copper arrow hooked onto the tall armor, its tip slightly indented into the armor plate.


    "40 steps, minor damage."


    "Ding! Bang!" Toltec clenched his teeth fiercely. He switched to an armor-piercing arrow with a thicker head, shot with all his might, and finally penetrated the heavy armor in front of him!


    "30 steps, armor-piercing!" the trusted aide overseeing the test shouted loudly, and only then did Black Wolf¡¯s taut face relax.


    Xiulote nodded. He gestured for the trusted aide to bring the tall armor over. There were only two damaged bronze plates, the rest of the armor was intact. Such damage could be easily repaired by replacing the plates and nailing them back on. The King nodded with satisfaction.


    "Not bad. Very good! Black Wolf, you have tried it yourself, how is this suit of armor?"


    Toltec¡¯s expression was grave. He thought for a moment, then said softly.


    "A seasoned samurai wearing this armor could spar with me for a short while."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote laughed heartily.


    "Ha ha! Black Wolf, what if you were wearing this armor?"


    Toltec stood tall and chest out, looked around confidently, and said.


    "As long as my strength does not fail, I would be an invincible warrior in this world!..."


    In mid-sentence, Black Wolf turned his head, just in time to see the Head Warrior¡¯s half-smiling, half-serious face. He opened his mouth and then added the last two words.


    "...one of them..."


    "Ha ha, good! Black Wolf, after the repairs, this heavy armor will be yours!"


    Xiulote¡¯s smile was meaningful as he waved a hand. Joy appeared on Toltec¡¯s face. Then, the King became serious again and asked solemnly.


    "Black Wolf, what if we carefully select a thousand brave samurais, all clad in such heavy armor?"


    At these words, Toltec¡¯s expression froze. In large-scale battle formations, if there were a thousand elite wearing heavy armor, forming a formation. They would not fear arrows and hand axes, needing no shields for defense, freely swinging their war clubs, directly charging at the opposing commander¡¯s flag... Moments later, even on his usually fearless face, a hint of reverence appeared.


    "Your Highness, if there were a thousand fierce warriors, able to wear this armor and fight for a quarter... they would be invincible in the world!"


    ```

 Chapter 533 - 260: Armor Work Hours, Royal Family Personal Army

    "Ha ha!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily, shaking his head slightly. In his laughter was the satisfaction of unrestrained joy; in his shaking head, however, was a wide embrace. After a moment, he looked at the craftsman master Chalape with approval.


    "Chalape, this kind of long-body heavy armor is quite good! How much labor and time does it take to make a suit of armor like this?"


    Upon hearing this, Chalape smiled sheepishly and looked to his kinsman. Tilipi scratched his head, calculating as he spoke.


    "Your Majesty, a cloth-covered, long-body bronze heavy armor uses 13 jin of cotton and 32 jin of bronze. To make cotton armor, one must soak the cotton, repeatedly pound it into thin sheets, and, after drying, patch it into two layers of cotton cloth. This, for covering both the front and the back, to conceal the weak seams... requires 2 workers for 5 days, totaling 10 workdays. This step is relatively simple, though stitching is a bit time-consuming; it can be done by healthy women.


    Next, one must forge 240 pieces of bronze armor plates. Making the armor plates is quite tedious; it involves casting, forging, and fitting them properly... requiring 8 workers for 5 days, totaling 40 workdays. This step is physically taxing. The artistic demands are not too high; it can be done by strong and robust apprentice craftsmen.


    Lastly, the plates are sequenced and embedded into the cotton armor. They are fixed with copper nails, inside and out; after proper adjustments, the long-body heavy armor is complete... This step requires 2 workers for 5 days, totaling 10 workdays. At this point, the assembly requires skill and must be done by an experienced craftsman personally!"


    "A suit of cloth heavy armor requires 60 workdays..."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression changed subtly, and he nodded slowly.


    Considering the mining and smelting of copper ores, the cultivation and collection of cotton, as well as the consumption of charcoal and material wastage during the production process, the labor and resources consumed by a suit of heavy armor are astonishing, requiring continuous repairs and maintenance. In reality, the cloth heavy armor had already become the easiest and least expensive type of heavy armor to produce during the evolution of armor over a thousand years. Its repair and rust-proof maintenance were very simple. By comparison, the production time and maintenance costs of stab armor and scale armor were several times higher.


    In this era, the late 15th century in Europe, metal craft was entering a fast track of rapid development. The iron-smelting blast furnaces of the Italian city-states stood at 4.5 to 6 meters high, capable of providing high-quality pig iron and even ordinary steel on a large scale. The southern states of Shenluo were the centers of armor crafting, which had massively adopted hydraulic forging hammers to significantly reduce the human labor in armor making.


    Even so, according to the workshop records and armor prices of the time, the forging duration for a full suit of knightly plate armor still required 150 workdays, often costing more than a small manor. Because even on top of the rough castings from water-powered forging, a significant amount of manual labor by experienced craftsmen was still needed to hammer out the curvature of the plate armor¡¯s surface and to polish the exterior. The plate breastplates commonly seen among the infantry took 50 workdays to produce, mainly providing protection with a solid steel plate at the chest and back; this was also the classic style of the Spanish conquerors. The thick padded jackets commonly worn by British longbowmen, requiring 25 workdays to produce, had a construction process similar to cotton armor, filled with linen or wool internally.


    The three aforementioned types of armor¡ªplate armor, plate breastplates, and thick cloth armor¡ªwere suitable for mass production and maintenance, becoming widely popular in Europe, catering respectively to knights, elite soldiers, and common militia. Traditional chain mail and lacquered leather armor, while both providing substantial protection, were exceptionally tedious to produce. With the same defensive capabilities, their labor costs far exceeded that of others, and their maintenance costs were extremely high; they were gradually overlooked by a developing and changing era.


    Of course, as the end of the 15th century approached, Europe was just beginning to rise, technological advancements were accumulating, and productivity had not yet developed, there was still a stark contrast to the populous nations of Asia. By the late 16th and early 17th centuries, when European metalwork was fully matured, large-scale water-powered machinery proliferated along riversides, and the simplified process of mass-produced plate armor for the common people began to spread, that would be the true era of grand colonization and expansion.


    ```


    By that time, the production cost of a set of commoner¡¯s plate armor had fallen to 50 worker-days, and the breastplate alone required only 20 worker-days. The rate of armor adoption by the armies of various nations soared, giving them a significant advantage over the nations of Asia. With inexpensive heavy armor, heavy muskets, and combined with large cannons, a few hundred Western colonizers could establish strongholds and bastions in the nations of Asia and withstand sieges from enemy forces that were several times or even ten times their number.


    "After the 17th century, that would be the nightmare of non-European transmigrators, the hell for the indigenous people of America... Fortunately, I still have time!"


    Xiulote reflected for a moment and let out a long sigh. Then, his expression turned serious again as he looked toward the master craftsmen before him.


    "Chalape, Tilipi, although this heavy armor is good, it is somewhat too heavy, requiring great physical strength from the samurai. Only true elite samurai can wear heavy armor for an extended period in battle. The sample armor I gave you is lighter, weighing only about thirty pounds. Do you have any replicas made?"


    "Of course, Your Majesty, look!"


    Chalape beckoned, and a craftsman presented a beautifully crafted half-body bronze medium armor. He then personally lifted the armor and presented it to the king.


    This bronze medium armor resembled a vest and was extremely ornate. Its surface was embedded with gold grains and silver thread, which along with a dense array of copper nails, outlined patterns resembling eagle feathers. To be presented to the king, the inner layer of the armor was made with meticulous care to be more like scale armor, not impeding the wearer¡¯s agility.


    "Your Majesty, this is a fine medium armor specially prepared for you by my brother and me, based on the Head Warrior¡¯s suggestion! It covers the upper body, using sixteen pounds of bronze and nine pounds of cotton, weighing a total of twenty-five pounds. Every piece of armor on the inside is handcrafted by us, sturdy and compact; the outer layer was commissioned from a master, who carved the image of a soaring eagle... Your Majesty, only divine beings are worthy of wearing such divine armor, please try it on!"


    Xiulote was somewhat surprised. He took the exquisite medium armor and inspected it briefly before the Head Warrior helped him get suited up properly. The inside of the armor was even lined with a special thin lining made of high-quality brushed cotton cloth, which was quite comfortable to wear.


    The cloth medium armor resembled a short sleeve or a vest, covering only the upper body and reducing the number of inner nailed armor pieces on the back, weakening the protection of non-vital areas. However, this medium armor weighed only a little over twenty pounds, was not at all cumbersome, and could be worn for an extended period in combat without impairing the movements of a strong samurai.


    Xiulote moved his hands and feet to get a feel for the security provided by the copper armor and nodded his head in satisfaction.


    "Very good, you all have done well! Bertade, you as well!"


    Chalape bowed respectfully, his smile growing even broader. The Head Warrior merely smiled faintly.


    "Tilipi, how much worker-time would it take to make a standard cloth medium armor without these decorations?"


    Tilipi clenched his fingers and calculated for a moment.


    ```


    "Your Majesty, the half-body bronze medium armor weighs about 25 jin. Its defense is only slightly inferior to that of heavy armor, but still much stronger than leather armor. The quantity of bronze armor plates is about half of that of heavy armor, and the working hours for forging and nailing can also be reduced by half... All in all, it would take just over 30 workdays."


    Xiulote nodded. He looked towards the Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, how does the defensive capability of this medium armor compare to that of heavy armor?"


    The Head Warrior thought for a moment and replied in detail.


    "Skilled warriors can flexibly exploit the defense of different body parts. In large-scale samurai formation battles, it is very difficult for the enemy to attack the back and lower limbs, and sustaining endurance is also extremely important... Taking this into account, it is about 70% of the heavy armor!"


    "70% of the defense, at 50% of the cost..."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, then made a decisive decision!


    "Chalape, Tilipi, heed my command!"


    The two Master Craftsmen immediately kneeled down.


    "The Kingdom¡¯s Personal Army is being assembled and needs 500 sets of heavy armor, 2,000 sets of medium armor! It is now September, if the material supply is sufficient, can it be completed before the January festival?"


    Chalape did some quick calculations, then showed a troubled expression. Next to him, Tilipi had already responded directly.


    "Your Majesty, there definitely won¡¯t be enough time! The festival is in mid-January; it¡¯s only four months from now. The Bronze Workshop has only six or seven hundred people, and even if we suspend the vast majority of our tasks, we can only spare 500 workers. But crafting 500 sets of heavy armor requires 500 workers two months, and 2,000 sets of medium armor needs 500 workers four months... It would take at least half a year to complete!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression darkened. He had already started assembling the Kingdom¡¯s Personal Army, which would serve as a reliable force directly under his control and would gradually become the main promotion channel for senior officers.


    The first batch of the Personal Army would have a strength of 2,500 men. Among them, 500 Jaguar Warriors would don heavy armor and wield two-handed war clubs, while the remaining 2,000 trusted aides would wear medium armor and carry longbows and copper arrows. Of the 2,000 trusted aides, 500 came from previous followers, 1,000 from the elite of the Northern Army, mainly composed of the Royal Family¡¯s Longbow Warriors.


    Another 500 were selected from the first batches of the surrendered Tarasco armies, and some elite descendants of the formerly hostile Prepetcha were also recruited. In subsequent plans, the number of Personal Army soldiers of Prepetcha origin would gradually increase, and accomplished officers and soldiers from various factions would be incorporated as well. On one hand, this demonstrated the King¡¯s impartial treatment to all, and on the other hand, like the Keshik of Mongolia, it served to unify all parts of the Kingdom and acted as a reserve training camp for military officers.


    "After the festival, the armies of the fiefs must be deployed. Before that, 2,500 sets of armor must be completed!"


    The King had issued his explicit decree. Then, after pondering briefly, he looked at the Head Warrior.


    "During the western campaign, a large number of craftsmen were captured in Ihuatzio City. How many coppersmiths were there among them?"


    "Yes, Your Highness. They have all been settled near the Capital City¡¯s army camps to serve the armies. There should be about four to five hundred coppersmiths, mainly producing various copper utensils, tools, and trade goods. However, in Ihuatzio City, they were coppersmiths, not bronze craftsmen." Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hmm, the fief¡¯s copper trade can be put on hold for a while, and copper mines must also be centrally allocated. They all have a certain level of craftsmanship... Chalape, I will give you 300 coppersmiths to hammer the armor plates, call in tailors from the Capital City to sew cotton armor for you, and later from the Mexica craftsmen who have migrated, I will send you an additional 200 apprentices! Whether it¡¯s copper materials, tin materials, or charcoal, I will give priority to supplying you!"


    Hearing such generous conditions, Chalape¡¯s worried expression became even more profound. He bowed deeply, awaiting the anticipated demands.


    "Four months¡¯ time before the January festival, to craft 2,500 sets of qualified armor! This is a military order! I will dispatch trusted aides to supervise. Hmm, are you confident?"


    "Your Majesty, I will follow Your will. I will definitely push everyone to their utmost, I will not fail your heavy trust!"


    Xiulote then smiled contentedly. He looked ahead, towards the vertical furnace smelting bronze. The flames roared, belching billows of smoke and pouring forth a dark red light. The fiery glow reflected in the King¡¯s eyes, making his pupils seem ablaze. Bronze and iron, metals are the future¡¯s hope!


    Moments later, the King stepped forward, the armor plates upon him clanking. He arrived in front of a batch of brand-new bronze utensils. With a solemn expression, he reached out and took up a farming tool that felt both strange and familiar.


    The farming tool was composed of two parts: the front part was a wooden rod with a bronze tip and a footrest for punching holes in the ground, called a plough; the back part was a digging tool resembling a shovel, with sharp bronze blades, called a spade. The plough and spade were joined together with wooden wedges, and at the very front, there was a pulling rope. Thus, the plough served as the handle of the spade, and the spade was the cap of the plough, capable of breaking apart clods of earth and creating furrows.


    "As wise as Divine Revelation, Your Majesty!"


    Chalape sprung to his feet, quickly following. In that moment, his face was filled with genuine respect and a smiling expression.


    "This is the two-man bronze plow that I have completed by hand according to Your design!"

 Chapter 534 - 261: New Farm Implements and Agricultural Productivity

    King Xiulote stood before the bronze plow, silently solemn, with only the flow of time visible in his eyes.


    Familiar agricultural tools lined up, each coming into view, bringing his scattered thoughts back to his homeland nearly two millennia ago. It was a time remarkably similar to today, a time of change!


    "The great affairs of the state lie in sacrificial rites and weaponry." This was the Spring and Autumn period in 578 BC, the beginning of a new transformation.


    "The rise of a state depends on agriculture and war!" This was the Warring States period in 356 BC, when Shang Yang first reformed.


    Reform was conceived in the Spring and Autumn and took place in the Warring States. The true driving force was iron farming tools and the continuous development of agricultural productivity!


    The course of history progressed in cycles, social productivity and social systems alternately advancing. In today¡¯s Mexica Alliance, in the present-day lake fief, Xiulote had already referred to Shang Yang¡¯s reforms and initiated social transformation. Correspondingly, he further promoted the development of agricultural productivity to match the systemic innovation of the Qin and Han dynasties and to establish the foundation of a unified empire!


    Guided by historical logic, Xiulote¡¯s administrative approach was notably clear. The first step in developing agricultural productivity was to control the land of the fief and centralize agricultural capital; the second step was to register households and require and encourage cultivation to boost agricultural labor input; the third step was the widespread adoption of bronze hand tools to increase the efficiency of making wood and stone farming implements and to manufacture and apply new bronze tools!


    During the long pre-Qin era, the Celestial Empire boasted a highly prosperous Bronze civilization. Bronze farming tools existed for a long time, capable of improving agricultural productivity, yet they did not become widespread in the Yellow River Basin. This was mainly due to the preciousness of bronze and the scarcity of bronze resources in the north. Limited bronze was used for sacrificial vessels, military weapons, and chariot accessories. In contrast, the Yangtze River Basin was rich in bronze resources. The production and usage of bronze farming tools during the Shang and Zhou dynasties were significantly more advanced.


    "With ox plowing still far away, and iron tools also out of reach, the only way to improve agricultural technology in the fief is by accumulating manure, building dikes, and utilizing bronze tools."


    King Xiulote¡¯s thoughts returned from the passage of time. He carefully examined the categorically arranged farming tools. These tools were drawn from his memory, altered with the input from experienced farmers. He had many subsequent designs still remaining on paper.


    The tools in front of him were divided into seven types, corresponding to the seven activities in agricultural production.


    "Human-powered bronze plow, shaped like a spoon, with a footboard for stepping, often used by one person. Hmm, not bad, it is simple yet durable and can be called a step plow. Using the step plow for five days equals one day of ox plowing, although very tiring, it is the best outcome!"


    Xiulote first grabbed the newly made bronze step plow, briefly examined it, and a smile appeared on his face. This was the first and most important tool for plowing and preparing the land. Plowing was crucial for agricultural production as it effectively promoted crop growth and increased yield. There were many reasons for this.


    First, turning the soil. Leveling the land and breaking up soil clumps made it easier to sow seeds in the soil layers.


    Next, aeration. Loosened soil improved aeration, helping the roots of crops grow deeper. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then, fertilization. Plowing brought fertile soil from the bottom to the surface and buried the remnants of the previous season¡¯s crops, forming new fertilizer.


    Additionally, weed removal. Before sowing, it removed sprouting weeds and disrupted the weed growth cycle. In the rain-abundant tropics of America, rapidly growing weeds could significantly reduce crop yields, requiring substantial labor to manage.


    Lastly, pest control. By turning the soil, it brought underground insects and their eggs to the surface, allowing predators and tropical sunlight to kill them.


    It was because of these benefits that agricultural production was dubbed farming, and the popularization of iron plows and ox plowing revolutionized agricultural production!


    Historically, in the Celestial Empire, plows were divided into the ancient human-powered step plow and the more common animal-powered plow. The animal-powered plow evolved from the straight-beam plow of the Han Dynasty to the curved-beam plow after the Tang Dynasty, which featured a freely rotating plow disk on the yoke head and a plow grading on the plowshaft to control plowing depth, continuing to be used until the popularization of agricultural machinery.


    In Xiulote¡¯s mind, the image of the curved-beam plow from later rural times still lingered, roughly understanding its principle, capable of drawing it out. However, the advantages of such plows had to be matched with draught animals to be realized. For the Central American civilization of this era, the human-powered bronze step plow was more appropriate. A rope for human traction could also be attached to the front of the plow, adding the assistance of another person.


    Following the bronze plow were other tools used for turning the soil, including a bronze rake, but more refined tools like spades and scoops were not in King Xiulote¡¯s memory.


    Alongside the plow and rake were seeders, the top part made of wood with a bronze foot, categorically a cart seeder. This was the second type of sowing tool, the ancient equivalent of a row-seeder. Due to the lack of animal power, Xiulote designed the two-legged cart seeder, which was pulled at the front by one or two persons and pushed from the back by another person. And to suit the planting of corn, the cart seeder had a wider spacing between its two legs to provide greater inter-row spacing for the crops.


    Next was the third type, a mid-cultivation weeding tool. Quite simply, it was a bronze hoe. Xiulote merely glanced at it before nodding and moving on. Bertade frowned slightly; this farm tool seemed more like a bronze weapon handed out to farmers. And following behind, Toltec, quite curious, handled the hoe, his eyes sparkling as he pondered how to use this oddly shaped mid-length blade.

 Chapter 535 - 261: New Agricultural Tools and Agricultural Productivity_2

    The fourth type was an irrigation farming tool, a human-powered turning vehicle, also known as the dragon bone cart. Its operating principle was similar to the chain rotation of a bicycle, but with a long slot in the middle. Powered manually, it turned wooden chain paddles that lifted water upwards and discharged it.


    This farming tool was designed to lift water from the lower levels of a lake or river to the higher water channels, irrigating the fields along the channels. Similarly, there were also cylinder vehicles that utilized water power. Xiulote had already sketched out the designs, preparing to first test-produce them by the northern banks of the Lerma River.


    "Your Majesty, your Divine Revelation¡¯s wisdom is truly as brilliant as a gem!"


    Chalape followed closely behind, smiling and offering his compliments.


    "This device was co-produced with the Master Carpenter. I used copper nails to reinforce crucial points repeatedly. With it, you can build highland gardens surrounded by earth embankments and wooden fences on the islands in the lake. This will not only facilitate irrigation but also prevent flooding!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote paused and slowly nodded. The new irrigation farming tool indeed needed to be used together with embankments and canals, and there was no rush for the time being.


    The fifth type of harvesting tool was equally simple, made of bronze, a small sickle less than half a meter long with a sharp inner curved blade. Harvesting tools actually included reaping, threshing, and cleaning. However, for crops like corn and pumpkins, only a reaping sickle was necessary.


    Xiulote looked at it for a moment and asked in a grave voice.


    "Chalape, how much bronze is used for this sickle? How many man-hours are needed to cast one?"


    Chalape calculated it briefly; such a simple question, he knew well.


    "Your Majesty, about three taels of bronze per sickle, roughly similar to a Bronze Spear tip. As long as the clay molds are sufficient, one person can cast a dozen or so in a day."


    The King nodded slightly, pondered for a moment, and then issued an order.


    "With autumn harvest approaching in October, the vast number of fields cultivated by the military crop cultivation force needs sharp bronze sickles for rapid reaping. Chalape, I give you one month¡¯s time, to provide at least half the sickles needed for the legions!"


    "Ah, this... By your command, Your Majesty!"


    Chalape¡¯s expression turned bitter, and he bowed his head to accept the order. With the King¡¯s inspection and successive military orders, one task followed another¡ªhe secretly resolved to push his craftsmen and apprentices to the limit these coming months: from dawn till dusk, eating and staying at the workshop!


    The sixth type involved processing farming tools, used for processing grains and cotton. Xiulote was not familiar with the tools for processing cotton; he only remembered a scene where cotton was "shot," so he had people make a crossbow-like bed.


    Basic grain processing tools, including pestles and stone mills, had long been available. Recalling a novel from another era, he sketched an upgraded version of the pestle, a foot-operated pestle, and then had the craftsmen produce it. Right now, he stretched out his foot and pressed down on the tail of the pestle, watching the front end rise and fall, and nodded with satisfaction, smiling.


    "I have succeeded in developing the foot-operated pestle; I shall award myself a rank!"


    Upon hearing this, Chalape was momentarily stunned, his mind racing, yet he also chimed in.


    "Your Majesty¡¯s Wisdom Revelation has created the foot-operated pestle, capable of pounding soybean paste, corn kernels, and pumpkin mash. This device greatly saves labor and benefits the whole world... The Chief Divine will surely rejoice and grant you Divinity, and also place the hearts of the Fief¡¯s people entirely in your hands!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote turned around in surprise, looking at the hereditary Copper Official before him, speaking meaningfully.


    "Chalape, to hold the position of a mere Copper Official surely underestimates your talents."


    "Ah, Your Majesty, your Divine light illuminates my eyes, allowing me to offer up the finest bronze craftsmanship... No matter what position I hold, I am willing to serve you to the death!"


    Chalape quickly knelt to salute, his heart somewhat uneasy. He had deep roots in the workshop and was reluctant to leave it easily.


    Xiulote nodded, noncommittal. He glanced at the Head Warrior and whispered an order.


    "What Chalape said makes sense. The development of new agricultural tools is a Divine Revelation by the King and is related to the blessing of the Chief Divine... this can be made known to all the people."


    A flicker passed through Bertade¡¯s eyes, and he nodded in understanding. Since the learned elder had assumed the position of the chief, the core had roughly taken control of the fief¡¯s discourse. The matters of propagation would soon infiltrate the hearts of the people like a spring breeze turns into rain.


    The last aspect was the transportation of agricultural tools, including common carriers such as baskets and pole carriers, along with newly made wheelbarrows. As for more convenient mounts and large carts, they would have to wait for the arrival of pack animals.


    Xiulote swept his gaze over the room twice, showing approval. Then, he solemnly asked his most trusted Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, these new agricultural tools can facilitate the farmers in field production and help increase crop yields! I intend to popularize them throughout the fief so that all the people can use them... what do you think?" Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bertade pondered for a moment, his expression serious. He cautiously asked,


    "Your Highness, how much do you think these tools can increase crop yields?"


    "I have discussed this with the old farmers of the Alliance. The new tools can significantly reduce labor consumption, thus cultivating more land. As for the increase in crop yields... without actually planting for a season, there is no answer. The first year of farming might not show a clear increase, but it could reduce the fallow time. And with row planting and weeding with copper hoes... at least a 20% increase should be there!"


    "A 20% increase..."


    Bertade was no longer calm, his eyes revealing shock. He looked deeply at His Highness and then respectfully said,


    "Your Highness, a definite increase in yields is indeed great news, and wooden agricultural tools are manageable. But currently, with the high price of copper, bronze is extremely expensive. How could ordinary people afford these bronze tools?"


    "How about we distribute them uniformly across the fief?"


    "Your Highness, agricultural tools are prone to wear and tear during use. Although bronze is durable, its usage cost may not be much less than that of stone tools before large-scale production can be achieved. For the ordinary farmers, rather than hoping for a little extra harvest, they would prefer to melt down the bronze tools to sell and continue using cheaper stone tools!"


    "Hmm... you make a good point. What about temporarily leasing them?"


    "Your Highness, ordinary people are not willing to lease items from the nobility, especially such valuable ones. If forced to lease, I¡¯m afraid the people will only carefully store them away, unable to sleep at night, fearing they might lose them and be held accountable."


    "Bertade, I am determined to popularize the new agricultural tools! What do you think we should do?"


    "Your Highness, in my opinion, bronze tools could initially be used in military colonies. The military colonies are clearly organized, strictly managed, operate under strict military law, and are controlled by various levels of officers. As long as they are strictly supervised and losses checked, the new tools¡¯ advantages can truly be utilized!"


    "As for ordinary civilian settlements, only a small number of bronze tools should be issued. Under the guise of sacrificial objects, they could be handed over to the priests, and then loaned out as a blessing from the Chief Divine by devout farmers in the villages. This can also enhance the authority of the priests and strengthen their hold over the villages!"


    "Hmm... let¡¯s proceed as you suggest!"


    The King stood still, reflecting deeply, and finally nodded slowly.


    "Calculate the required quantities as soon as possible and then assign the task to the workshops. By next spring plowing, the military colonies must all use the new agricultural tools."


    "Now it seems, to truly revolutionize the era, it is essential to reduce the cost of bronze soon. Large-scale excavation of copper mines is imperative!"


    Xiulote paced with his hands behind his back, lost in thought, followed in silence by everyone. And when the King halted, right in front of him stood the real weapon to transcend the era, the bronze cannon!

 Chapter 536 - 262: The Bronze Cannon, A First Attempt Across Eras!

    Upon the fertile soil of history, human civilization grows like a mighty tree. People¡¯s understanding of the world keeps improving, like increasingly robust roots providing continuous nourishment for the growth of civilization. Meanwhile, the development of technology climbs upwards, akin to the dense canopy of a tree reaching for the sunlight, always branching and specializing.


    To Xiulote, the progress of human technology was a network shaped like a tree. Many technologies advanced in a straight line, requiring predecessors to lay the foundation. For example, the hydraulic machinery of Europe during this era required advanced iron-refining technology as a prerequisite because copper and bronze lacked the tensile strength and elasticity to serve well as mechanical parts, such as easily damaged springs.


    Some technologies, however, were leaps across eras, hinging on the level of human cognition, like the gunpowder already used by the Alliance or, for instance, the bronze cannons currently at hand. They did not need iron as a foundation; they only needed prophet-like divine guidance to leapfrog military science in the hands of American civilization, unleashing a roar that spanned ages!


    As he thought of this, the King smiled and stretched out his hand, touching the rough and cold weapon of slaughter before him. This was a 1 pound Falcon Cannon, also known as an Eagle Cannon, cast according to his design.


    In Europe of this era, the 1 pound Eagle Cannon, as a classic lightweight field cannon, had just recently been created. It possessed the power to break through all field enemies, with a maximum range exceeding two and a quarter miles, and accurate range well over 200 meters. Weighing between 200 to 400 pounds, the Eagle Cannon was sufficiently mobile and became a favorite of explorers and elite infantry squads and would remain in use for over a hundred years, until the Thirty Years¡¯ War.


    Chalape was observing at all times, and upon seeing the King¡¯s smile, he quickly tugged at Tilipi¡¯s sleeve. Tilipi hesitated for a moment before he mustered up the courage to come forward and explain carefully.


    "Your Majesty, this is the Sun Divine Eagle Cannon you had us cast. It is 1.2 meters in length; the bore is 5 centimeters; we used 250 pounds of bronze, coupled with a matching hardwood stand... As per your instructions, with the help of the gunpowder craftsman, and witnessed by the Head Warrior, we conducted a test fire... using 1 pound of gunpowder to launch a 1-pound stone ball... The range fell somewhat short of your requirements, it¡¯s about... about 50 meters..."


    Tilipi¡¯s voice grew fainter, yet it still clearly reached Xiulote¡¯s ears. The smile on the King¡¯s face instantly froze. He looked at Bertade, and the Head Warrior nodded gently. The King¡¯s hands silently clenched, his voice lowering as he demanded.


    "Repeat that, what was the range?"


    "...50 meters..."


    Facing the chill in the King¡¯s eyes, Tilipi "thud" kneeled on the ground. He urgently raised his voice to explain.


    "Your Majesty, the Head Warrior can bear witness! We used the highest quality bronze in full measure, and the clay molds were delicately crafted. But during the firing process, the cannon barrel emitted a puff of smoke... Craftsmen who had made wooden cannons said this was because the metal barrel was not favored by the spirits, weakening the God of Thunder¡¯s power. Only a wooden barrel has life and can carry the Divine Power..."


    "Smoke... leaking air..."


    Xiulote did not get angry, nor did he pay attention to the competition among craftsmen. Instead, he furrowed his brows and inspected closely once again. On the outer wall of the bronze barrel, one could faintly see some minute holes.


    "Bring a bucket of water!"


    The trusted aide immediately went to the workshop¡¯s well and fetched a bucket of clean water. Under the watchful eyes of everyone present, the King ordered the cannon to be stood upright and then had them pour the water into the opening at the top. Soon, tiny streams of water began to seep out from various parts of the barrel, accompanied by the surprised murmurs of craftsmen.


    "The sand holes in the barrel are small and uniform..." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Looking at the leaking barrel, Xiulote fell into contemplation. Casting a bronze cannon was much simpler than casting an iron one, and a 1 pound Eagle Cannon was the most basic of light cannons; such minor sand holes were not a severe flaw.


    "Get a copper rod!"


    Xiulote demanded once more. He then personally inserted the copper rod into the muzzle, feeling the slight roughness and resistance of the inner wall, and he nodded slightly.


    "The bore is not smooth enough; it needs polishing."


    Tilipi¡¯s eyes widened as he watched all the actions of the King, a look of surprise filling his gaze. The King¡¯s image gradually shifted from an autocratic monarch forcefully directing them to a person with half-expert knowledge of the craft. Then came an irrefutable voice, once more transforming back into the authoritarian King.


    "Tilipi, let me see your casting process!"


    Tilipi bowed respectfully and agreed. Compliantly, he led everyone to the site of cannon casting, first pointing to a 1.2-meter wax tube.


    "Your Majesty, the next few Divine Eagle Cannons are still in the preparation phase. This is the cannon tube made from wax blocks; the bore has already been drilled, and the overall size matches that of a real bronze cannon exactly."


    Xiulote nodded. The lost-wax process for creating clay molds was very common in Central America¡¯s metalworking.


    "Your Majesty, once the wax cannon is made, it must be wrapped in clay and filled with clay on the inside, only leaving a pouring hole at the tail end of the barrel; this is the clay mold. Once the clay mold is finished, heating it to melt the interior wax tube gives us a shaped clay model of the cannon tube!"


    Tilipi pointed at two already shaped clay molds, explaining in detail.


    "Your Majesty, I have pondered this for a long time. Based on the experience of casting bronze pots, the holes leaking air and water in the barrel are likely due to insufficient drying time for the clay mold! We have never cast such a large bronze piece before, and the molds only dried for less than a month. These new rows of Divine Eagle Cannons, please give us more time to let the molds air dry for three months!"

 Chapter 537 - 262: Bronze Cannon, the First Trans-era Attempt!_2

    Upon hearing Tilipi¡¯s analysis and inference, Xiulote looked surprised. He gazed at the true master caster, affirming the other in his heart for the first time.


    From countless transmigration novels of the future, Xiulote knew that the biggest problem with early cannon casting was the inadequacy of the clay models used.


    The clay models for the cannons had high requirements for moisture, soil, and casting craftsmanship. The models were made of compressed clay, whose internal moisture was hard to dry thoroughly. During the casting process, the steam inside the clay model would heat up and evaporate, creating a honeycomb-like pattern of holes in the barrel, causing the cannon to leak air or even explode when fired. Therefore, the moisture inside the clay model needed to dry naturally. As the size of the cannons increased, so did the drying time, stretching from several months to half a year. If it was a particularly humid rainy season, the drying time would have to be extended even further.


    "Tilipi, your thoughts are quite good! The past few months have been a rainy season with abundant rainfall, and the air is moist; the clay models need to dry longer. The issues with the trial-produced cannons are your responsibility, but they are forgivable! Now it is the drier September, and the rainy season will end with the harvest in October... I will give you another four months¡¯ time to complete this batch of Divine Eagle Cannons!"


    Upon hearing this, Tilipi sighed in relief. Chalape¡¯s face also showed joy. The two exchanged glances and knelt down to perform a ritual salute simultaneously.


    "Your Majesty, thank you for your leniency! Your magnanimity is like the boundless Great Lake..."


    "Continue, finish explaining the process!"


    Tilipi stood up, walked to the front of the bronze furnace, and continued his explanation.


    "Your Majesty, once the clay model of the barrel is completed, we can start up the furnace, melt the bronze for the cannon casting. You see, by the outlet at the bottom of this furnace, there is a deep pit in the ground intended for placing the clay model. We position the cannon¡¯s clay model with its intake opening facing up, placed in this pit..."


    As Tilipi spoke, he motioned with his hand. Two apprentice craftsmen carefully placed the cannon¡¯s clay model into the pit, barrel opening up.


    "Next, fill up the pit, then use clay to create a conduit connecting the furnace¡¯s outlet to the clay model¡¯s intake opening, guiding the molten bronze into it... This step must also control the fire properly, the flow rate of molten bronze should not be too fast to avoid displacing the core inside the clay model... Then wait until the bronze inside the clay model naturally cools down, then excavate the clay model from the ground, and finally break it open to retrieve the cannon..."


    Xiulote listened patiently to the cannon casting process, recalling several half-understood terms and fragments in his mind.


    "Natural cooling... I seem to remember a term in cannon casting called ¡¯water cooling self-tightening¡¯. This should involve making the core¡¯s model hollow, filling it with water, causing the barrel to cool and contract from the inside out, greatly improving quality... No, the clay model cannot have water poured into its hollow; that must be the iron mold.


    Iron mold... The clay model is disposable, needing to be broken open to retrieve the cannon. The surface of the iron mold is much smoother, can be reused, and has almost no water vapor or sand holes. Iron mold water cooling is the big secret for transmigrator¡¯s cannon casting!... Hm, iron molds are relatively easy, the metallurgical technology by the time of the Ming and Qing dynasties should be sufficient. Yet, water cooling requires a very high level of technology, probably only achievable in modern times. And most critically... I still don¡¯t have any iron."


    Xiulote shook his head. He contemplated the cannon casting process in his mind for a moment, then instructed.


    "Tilipi, remember my words! Other than increasing the drying time of the clay molds and polishing the inner walls of the barrels, the body of the Divine Eagle Cannon can also be thickened again, the bronze usage increased from 250 jin to 300 jin! Once the casting is complete, if there are no leaks, add five copper hoops to reinforce the body! A qualified bronze cannon must also be fitted with claw nails and copper trips for stabilization during firing!"


    Bertade had already drawn out notes on inner polishing, thickening the barrel, five copper hoops, and stabilizing fixtures, then handed the drawings to Chalape. Chalape smiled gratefully, and the Head Warrior also responded with a gentle smile.


    After finishing the essential points of the process, Xiulote paused to reflect, and a phrase he remembered surfaced in his mind.


    "Clay model casting, cast ten to get two or three, then one can be called a master!"


    Although he did not know which era this saying came from, the size of the cannons it referred to, whether it referred to bronze or iron cannons, it still gave insight into the difficulty of cannon casting. For the American civilization at this stage, early exploration into cannon casting could only rely on sufficient quantity to randomly meet quality standards.


    With this thought in mind, Xiulote resolved to issue an order solemnly.


    "Chalape, Tilipi, heed the command!"


    At these familiar words, Chalape¡¯s knees trembled, and he knelt to the ground again with his clan brother.


    "Drying the clay mold requires time. In these few days, you all must work harder and make the clay molds for 40 Divine Eagle Cannons!" sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Upon hearing this, Tilipi¡¯s body trembled, and he looked at the King before him, asking in shock,


    "Your Majesty, 40 Divine Eagle Cannon clay molds! That¡¯s 300 jin of bronze each, totaling 12,000 jin! Plus another 48,000 jin for casting Copper Armor, that¡¯s 60,000 jin of bronze! The bronze stockpiled in the warehouse over years still doesn¡¯t even reach half this amount, and this hasn¡¯t even taken into account the large consumption of bronze farming tools..."


    "Tilipi, this is a Royal Decree!"


    Xiulote interrupted the Master Caster, sternly rebuking him.


    "You just do your best! As for the bronze ore, I will start resolving that matter soon, it won¡¯t delay the Workshop¡¯s production!"


    The Workshop instantly fell silent, everyone bowed their heads, following the will of the King.


    "Tilipi, for the 40 Divine Eagle Cannons clay molds, if you can successfully produce 5 usable ones, you will be deemed qualified! If you can produce 10, I will promote you to a military noble, making two nobles from the Metal Family!"


    The King said indifferently, then his expression turned stern.


    "If by next February, you haven¡¯t produced even 5 qualified Divine Eagle Cannons... then prepare to face the Alliance¡¯s military law and sacrifice yourself to the Chief Divine!"


    Hearing the King¡¯s command, Tilipi first showed a look of joy, but then sweat began to bead on his forehead. He knelt on the ground, and after quite a while, he began to speak with difficulty.


    "Your Majesty, I obey your command, willingly serving you to the death!"


    "Hmm, good!"


    Xiulote watched for a moment, then slowly nodded. Next, he looked at the kneeling master Craftsmen before him, his expression was extremely serious, and his words left no room for defiance.


    "Chalape, Tilipi, your task is heavy! I am giving you another hundred captured Coppersmiths from Ihuatzio City! These four hundred Coppersmiths will arrive within two days. The two hundred Samurai escorting them will be stationed around the Workshop to tightly ensure your safety."


    Of course, the so-called stationing also had other implications. After taking on the Bronze Cannon project, the Bronze Workshop became the most secretive military location in the Fief, and also the most critical place in all of America!


    "Starting today, the area of the Bronze Workshop will be expanded, the workforce increased, and an additional wall will be built. All Craftsmen will be incorporated into the Kingdom Legion, under military law governance! Without permission, no one is allowed to leave the craftsman¡¯s camp even by half a step!"


    "Tilipi, Cannon Casting is linked to the future of the Alliance, as well as the survival of the entire world¡­ You carry the heavy burden bestowed by the divinities, and need to invest all your energy, focused solely on research. If you can continuously improve in Cannon Casting, I promise you the fortune of a hereditary nobility!"


    The King¡¯s voice became gentler. He gently patted the Master Caster¡¯s shoulder, his face again showing a smile that made the other tremble.


    "The Divine Eagle Cannon clay mold requires four months to dry. During this period, you need more practice and experiments. Here is another cannon blueprint for you to study. This cannon is only 40 centimeters long, with a bore of 4 centimeters, and an outer diameter just over 10 centimeters. It is short, light, and thin, weighing only a quarter of the Divine Eagle Cannon, with an estimated dry time of just one month for the clay mold, which is much easier than the Divine Eagle Cannon... Give you two months, and produce the first prototype cannon!"


    "Ah... I obey your command. Your Majesty, what shall we call this type of cannon?"


    "Hmm, the Alliance has Eagle Warriors and Tiger Warriors. Eagle Warriors belong to the Sun God¡¯s Legion, Tiger Warriors to the Rain Divine¡¯s Legion. Since we have the Sun Divine Eagle Cannon, let¡¯s name this cannon the Rain God Tiger Squat Cannon!"

 Chapter 538 - Two Hundred and Sixty-Three: October Harvest, The People’s Hearts Begin to Settle

    Golden October arrived, walking through the cessation of wind and rain, and the warm sun shone down on the tropical highland, where the shores of the Lake Region still brimmed with life, with tall grass and warbling birds.


    Harvest time had come. Chiwaco, with a bamboo basket on his back and a farming tool in hand, stood in the fields before the Milites encampment. On his aged smiling face, there was the joy of harvest time, and flowing through his deep pupils was the golden hope. Hope that had been nurtured through the drab, protracted rainy season, now transformed into tangible, ripe fruits.


    "The harvest is bountiful!"


    The old Militia murmured to himself. A hundred thousand acres of lush farmland unfolded before him, like the most touching and graceful long scroll extending to the very edge of the sky. Ten thousand Milites dispersed according to their units, carrying bamboo baskets, holding Stone Sickles, and busy bending over in the harvest fields.


    "Blessings of the Chief Divine! To think I¡¯m alive to see this day of bountiful harvest! It¡¯s like a dream."


    Chiwaco looked around greedily, his eyes gleaming as if he wished to remain in this moment forever. Everywhere in front of him were busy figures, around him echoed the low shouts of work chants, and his nose filled with the pleasant scent of grain.


    Huge pumpkins had been harvested, linked into long green and yellow stripes, and were laid out to dry in front of the distant thatched cottages. Large groups of Milites, carrying wicker baskets and wielding Stone Sickles, came and went in an unending stream. They piled the harvested beans into small mountains in the cool sheds among the fields, then wheeled them back to the encampment with pushcarts. As for the main crop, corn, it grew in large swaths of greenery, its cobs long and full within the leaves, the husks just starting to yellow, signaling the final harvest was at hand!


    "Uncle, what are you looking at?"


    Weizti, his head wrapped in a scarf and carrying a scythe, approached the old Militia. He followed the other¡¯s gaze but saw only the usual harvest fields and busy crowds, in this unusual year of chaos. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "First, we¡¯re harvesting pumpkins, then beans, and later we¡¯ll get to the corn. Each person is expected to harvest ten acres, and my back is about to break!"


    Weizti wiped the sweat off his face, muttering complaints under his breath. The tense busyness of the harvest had already lasted two weeks, and he still had a little over three acres of beans left to gather.


    "Ah, I never used to get tired doing farm work in previous years, but this year, I¡¯m just not used to handling the farming tools. Probably because it¡¯s been too long since I last farmed, and this time we have too much land. Uncle, you¡¯re in charge of so many people now! Why don¡¯t you just do like Lord Huitu, and find a few people to take care of both our workloads? ...Er, even just sharing it a bit would be nice."


    Hearing this, Chiwaco finally turned around and heavily patted Weizti on the head.


    "Blockhead, after clenching a gun to kill people for a year, can¡¯t you get used to work that sustains life? Even if you were a blade of grass, you shouldn¡¯t forget your roots, or you¡¯ll become like duckweed on the water, never knowing where you¡¯ll drift. That Lord Huitu, at his very roots, is not the same as us rural folks..."


    The old Militia looked thoughtful, stretched as he gazed into the clear sky, displaying a kind of ease and more propensity to chatter.


    "...Besides, each person only has ten acres, and all the farming tools are provided; we just need to put in the labor. What¡¯s there that can¡¯t be done? These past two years we¡¯ve walked over corpses... Now we can stay in the fields, peacefully farming and harvesting, sleep through the night without worry, and when there¡¯s free time, even bring some food to Luwei... I hope that these days will last long!"


    Hearing his uncle¡¯s words, Weizti obediently nodded his head, since the uncle always had a point. He continued to look around.


    "Uncle, with so many people working, the wild rabbits and stupid deer have all fled without a trace! Otherwise, hunting one or two would mean we could have some meat tonight. Eating pumpkins, black beans, and cakes every day without even a bit of grease, my mouth is terribly craving it!... I could even bring some good stuff to Luwei, she loves meat."


    Chiwaco first glanced at Weizti, but when he heard the latter part, his expression softened considerably.


    "Blockhead, although we had wine and meat when guarding the gates of the Capital City, those days were hollow, but now, our days are filled with substance. When we were in the village before, when could we afford to have our fill of mixed grains every day, let alone cakes on festival days? We didn¡¯t dare to think of such things, and as long as we weren¡¯t starving, it was considered a good year... Mmm, Luwei is still young, growing, so I¡¯ll go to the Priest in the encampment later tonight to ask for some meat. Once the busy period is over and we¡¯re allowed out of the encampment, you take it to the village where the families are, and give it to her."


    "Great! Uncle, get an extra portion of meat. Little Ayuli¡¯s wife is pregnant, so when I go to the village to see Luwei, I can also take some for her!"


    Weizti nodded vigorously, showing genuine concern for his brother¡¯s wife.


    Since the Milites chose their land and established their encampment, they¡¯ve continued to maintain military discipline, though it has eased slightly. The relatives of the soldiers were also grouped together and arranged to stay in nearby villages to give the Milites confidence and focus. Every few days, if the fields weren¡¯t too busy, the Milites could take turns leaving the encampment to visit their families. Weizti was just about due for his turn.


    After the war, with many able-bodied men lost, the Lake Region was left with many young widows. Under the arrangement of the Priest, over the past few months, the single Milites had successively married, with the quick ones even having children. If food supplies were sufficient, it wouldn¡¯t be long before a baby boom ensued. Little Ayuli of the seven Militia was among the first to marry, with his bride being from a family of a Samurai who died in the city. Such marriages between rural Militia and city Samurai would have been unimaginable before, but now they had become commonplace.

 Chapter 539 - 263 October Harvest, The People’s Hearts Begin to Settle_2

    "Hmm, Little Ayuli is really fast! Wood, remember to talk to him before you go. These past few months, Luwei¡¯s wife has been taking care of him too... With you and Luwei, I feel reassured..."


    "Alright!"


    With the sun shining brightly, the two continued swinging their sickles, engaging in intermittent small talk as they worked.


    It was not until the sun reached its zenith and the temperature rose to its peak that a loud, clear sound of a bone horn blew through the wind, signaling it was time for lunch. Labor during the harvest required physical strength and time was of the essence. Under Xiulote¡¯s personal supervision, a special lunch was established for the militia during the busy harvesting days as a grace.


    The two then stopped their work, carrying baskets filled with vegetables, and walked together towards the center of the camp. The other milites gradually gathered around, whispering quietly on the dusty path created by their tread.


    "The new King is truly benevolent, allowing us to eat a hearty meal at noon as if we were in a battle."


    "All Kings are of the Divine Eagle Bloodline, they must have broad vision and generous hearts!"


    "Nonsense! Have you not fought in the north? The new King is His Highness from Mexica. He is a Black Wolf Divine Descendant, an envoy of the God of Death, controlling the lives of warriors! Whenever he wields his Divine Power, it erupts like a thunderbolt, smashing legions into dust!"


    "Ah? How come I heard a sage in the Capital City say that the new King is a descendant of the Sun God, possesses the Kingdom¡¯s Heritage gemstone, and also inherited the old King¡¯s Divine Power?"


    "...You¡¯re both wrong!"


    Hearing the chaotic discussions, finally a militia Camp Commander couldn¡¯t restrain himself. He bellowed fervently.


    "I asked the Priest marching with the troops, and he said, the Emperor was born under the Chief Divine¡¯s Blessing, received Divine Revelations since childhood, and carries the future of the whole world! The Chief Divine is the highest and greatest, omnipotent. The Emperor, as the envoy of the highest Chief Divine, naturally possesses different Divinity."


    "...He is the sun that creates life, the Black Wolf who commands death, and will also bring harvest, prosperity, and hope like the gliding Feathered Serpent! He devoured the former Divine Eagle Royal Family, expanded His Divine Power to the lake region, and made this place His Kingdom. He treats us all the same, He is both the Highness of the Mexica and the Divine King of Prepetcha!..."


    The commander¡¯s words gradually turned into a chant, and the milites around gradually fell silent. Soon, others also began to chant. The eyes of the soldiers held deep reverence, filled with new expectations.


    In the midst of chanting, Chiwaco stopped walking. He listened to the people¡¯s words, his eyes deepening.


    "Uncle, have you seen His Highness from Mexica? What¡¯s he like?"


    Weizti scratched his head, curious.


    "What¡¯s he like?"


    Chiwaco¡¯s expression on his face shifted complexly. After thinking for a while, he muttered to himself softly.


    "He has a nose, two eyes...but now he¡¯s a man, later a god."


    "What?"


    Weizti did not catch the last sentence. As he was about to ask, his uncle had already walked far away, so he had to hurry to catch up.


    Soon, the two reached the camp where the scent of food wafted in the wind from afar, making their mouths water. They unloaded the vegetables from their wooden baskets and greeted the Mexica Samurai guarding the food and tools. The mutual familiarities had already been established over the season.


    "Blessings of the Chief Divine! Warrior Huoqia. The sun is fine today, and the fields are truly beautiful!"


    "Blessings of the Chief Divine! Captain Chiwaco. Yes, today is the sixth day, a lucky day of the Sun God. Suitable for battles, skirmishes, and death." S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Huoqia smiled and nodded in response, the same elder warrior as before. He took out a sparkling bronze sickle from a wooden box on the ground and continued with a smile.


    "We¡¯ve just received a batch of bronze sickles, not too many. You¡¯ve made great contributions for the Alliance, you can take two to use first. These are much sharper and more durable than stone sickles!"


    "Bronze sickles?"


    Chiwaco was surprised. He took the sickle handed over by the warrior, and with a simple swipe on the vegetables on the ground, the vegetables were neatly cut into two halves.


    "Really effective! Using such expensive tools for farming, it¡¯s really different!"


    The old militiaman exclaimed.


    "Well, collecting vegetables is one thing. When it comes to harvesting corn later, these convenient farm tools will make work much quicker and save a lot of effort!... Warrior Huoqia, could you allocate a few more for my team?"


    "Ah, if it was someone else asking, surely there would be none. But Captain Chiwaco, you are different. I will give you half more! You are a person who His Highness himself has praised, ¡¯Favoured by fate warrior¡¯, bound to be heavily relied on in the future..."


    "Ah... Thank you. "


    At the mention of "being heavily relied on," Chiwaco felt a gulp in his heart. He managed a nod with a forced smile, then pulled Wood towards his own camp to arrange for people to collect today¡¯s lunch.


    People sat on the ground according to their camps, waiting. Accompanying the meal was the army-associated Priest. Initially, most priests were Mexica from the Alliance, now many lower-grade priests from Prepetcha had also joined. The priests prayed loudly in the dialect of Qinchongcan, and the people repeated along.


    "Praise the Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! He gives us sunshine, rain, and harvest..."


    "Praise the Chief Divine!"


    "Praise His Majesty Xiulote! He provides us food, stability, and homes..."


    "Praise His Majesty!"


    In the harvest-rich fields, within the stable camp, people followed the priests in their prayers, reciting words they knew by heart. Unconsciously, a sense of piety began to form in their hearts.


    The overturning of the Kingdom, the reversal of ranks, the alteration of divine beings... In these past two years, too many heart-stirring events had happened, numbing the spirits of Prepetcha people. In this rapidly changing era, not only has the resistance to reform reduced to a minimum, but there are also voids in beliefs that could be filled. This is a hard-earned blank slate, being painted by the King. The new scroll spreads over the land of the Fief, and is also engraved in the hearts of the people!

 Chapter 540 - 263 October Harvest, The People’s Hearts Begin to Settle_3

    Soon after they finished their prayers and meals, the people returned to the fields in their respective units. They kept busy until the sun had set.


    On these busy days, ample provisions, families settled in camps, oppressed legions, guiding priests, and the nearness of the Alliance officers - all of these together maintained the stability of the garrison forces and gradually won the hearts of the surrendered armies.


    The same scene played out in dozens of villages across the Lake Region. Tens of thousands of villagers busied themselves in the fields and prayed in front of altars. With the crops¡¯ bountiful harvest, their wandering spirits could finally find peace. The three gods they prayed to quietly morphed into the common Sun God, and slowly converted into the sole Chief Divine.


    Forty li southwest of Ihuatzio City, at the base of Qinganbate Mountains, lies the Lake Region¡¯s most remote village. Villagers stopped in the fields, watching the newborn sun, looking over the golden fields with plain joy on their faces.


    "Blessed by the three gods! To think we could have such a good harvest this year!"


    "Ah, may the Sun God bless us! This year has truly been tough! First, there were multiple draft and grain conscriptions, and the warriors from the Capital were ferocious as tigers, leaving nothing for planting. Then the troops passed through, killing all around, with warriors everywhere along the Great Lake shores, even tainting the lake waters red. After both these events, half of our village perished..." sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes, the village priest said that this year was marked by disaster, with the sun falling from the sky, and the moon ruling over the land. If the Moon Goddess wants you dead, it¡¯s fate. You can escape by day, but not by night; no family can avoid it..."


    "No, the village priest has recently changed his statement! He said that this year is when the old sun sets and a new sun rises. The Mexica people have changed the heavens, and the new king is the Sun, Black Wolf, Feathered Serpent, and Divine Eagle..."


    "Oh, the Mexica! The Mexica destroyed the Kingdom, and the Mexica killed the nobility. Unexpectedly, it was the Mexica who then distributed seeds, strictly ordering us to cultivate; they also provided food to help us survive the famine..."


    "The priest says that the new king is also our king, from the Prepetcha..."


    The villagers¡¯ discussion was full of imagination. They were filled with reverence for myths and their animosity towards the Alliance faded. Suddenly, one of the villagers softly exclaimed,


    "The Mexica legion! The Black Wolf King!"


    In an instant, everyone became silent. Rows of Mexica warriors appeared at the end of the field, followed by a tall banner of the Black Wolf. Soon, the villagers, both respectful and alarmed, knelt down on the ground, saluting the banner from a distance.


    Beneath the banner, dressed in fine clothes, Xiulote observed the fields along the way. With a satisfied smile, he glanced at the villagers who were saluting spontaneously, feeling a wave of emotion.


    "Looking all around, this year¡¯s crop is good! The sunlight and moisture are quite suitable, and the cultivation strong. The corn was planted late this season; there¡¯s still two weeks until the mid-October harvest. Once autumn harvest is completed, the fief¡¯s food shortages will no longer be pressing, and people¡¯s hearts will truly settle down. The Kingdom¡¯s rule will no longer be like eggs accumulated on a stone."


    "Your Highness, how can one accumulate eggs on a stone? Are they to be roasted for eating?"


    Upon hearing this, the Head Warrior was stunned. Then, he jested,


    "The legion uses force to pile up stones, and the king ignites wisdom to start a fire. Carefully roasting for a year, people¡¯s hearts get thoroughly cooked... Of course, this also cannot be separated from the influence of knowledgeable elders. Your Highness, over the past few months, Chief Jatili did a great job gathering a group of elite from the Prepetcha. They go everywhere extolling your valor, greatly influencing the populace."


    "Hmm, Chief Jatili has done well! Bertade, do not worry. They are the most opportune group of people, without any force in their hands, always standing by the side of the strongest. We need to selectively accept them, providing the Prepetcha elites with a pathway for advancement."


    Xiulote, with a confident smile, spoke assuredly.


    "Soon, I will emulate the old systems of the Alliance, establishing community military schools across the regions, and building a new priest school in the Capital. I will provide the Prepetcha people with two additional pathways for advancement. Only by fostering a firm and reliable core, unifying more flag-waving peripheries, can our strength burn incessantly like the flames among pine forests!"


    Hearing this, Bertade nodded respectfully, his eyes filled with profound admiration. Around him, a thousand personal guards armed with longbows formed a tight formation. They protected the safety of the king and left a solemn trace on the field ridges.


    "Ezpan, the copper mine is just ahead, right?"


    Xiulote, smiling, turned his head to look at the great general, born a miner.


    "Yes, Your Highness!"


    Ezpan bowed his head in salute. He looked around at the familiar scenery, filled with deep emotion.


    "Your Highness, this lake is Lake Zirahuen. From here, follow the stream westward uphill, cross these several hills, and you will reach Qinganbate Mountain. The Kingdom¡¯s largest copper mine sits just below it!"


    "In the local language, Qinganbate means the mountain of mild climate. There are also two archaeological sites on the mountain: one is a Teotihuacan-style tomb and the other is an ancient, abandoned human sacrifice arena. It is said that an ancient Divine Descendant was sacrificed here, buried at this spot. His Divine Power seeped into the earth, creating the vein-speckled gilt copper mine!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote tiptoed, gazing at the distant mountains. Flecks of light flashed momentarily, faintly showing speckled golden hues! After gazing for a moment, the king burst into hearty laughter.


    "Excellent, order the entire army to hasten their pace! I can hardly wait!"

 Chapter 541 - 264: Discussion in the Southwest Mountains

    The banners flapped in the breeze as the elite samurai ascended silently, letting the mountain wind sweep across them while they watched the sun rise to mid-sky. Only when the king shook the small flag did the trusted aides halt their steps, pausing atop the hill.


    Xiulote stood at the summit of the hill, surveying the surroundings. Behind him, the shield guard Ters, with a wooden expression, still held the royal banner aloft.


    From the high vantage point, the world seemed to open up, broadening the king¡¯s horizons. In the long wind, the hills undulated like towering waves, continuously rising to the mountain peaks; under the sunlight, the land gradually bare, like footprints of the gods, occasionally shimmering with a faint golden light. Only a winding creek flowed tinklingly like a lively snake, tracing the path of the onlookers, converging towards Lake Zirahuen, the lowest point in the terrain.


    "What magnificent mountains! What a splendid river! All this wonderful landscape is in my hands!"


    The king exclaimed loudly after a moment of gazing. He had inspected farms along the way, witnessed the fruitful earth, and now, having climbed the high mountains to behold the vast rivers and mountains, he felt extremely delighted! However, the instincts of a military leader soon resurfaced, manifesting in a contemplative murmur.


    "Qinganbate, gentle mountains... This terrain is so treacherous, easy to defend but hard to attack, not gentle at all!"


    "Your Highness is discerning! Qinganbate is indeed a range of treacherous mountains,"


    Ezpan, touching his severed left finger, complimented with a clear gaze.


    "As for the description of gentle, there is also an ancient legend that corresponds to the relics on the mountains. Legend has it that in the distant ancient times, these mountains were bustling with noise and billowing smoke, serving as the mouth of a demon that devoured mortals, leading to the underworld, the Land of the Dead."


    "The demon ravaged for a thousand years, and the thick smoke rose for a thousand years. Until a great Divine Descendant witnessed the evil of this place. He first used human sacrifices to attract the Chief Divine, then resolutely sacrificed himself here. With a thunderous noise that shook heaven and earth, the Divine Descendant sealed the passage to the underworld with his divine body, and since then, the mountains have become gentle..."


    "Later, the shameless Divine Eagle Royal Family claimed that it was an ancient Divine Eagle sage who sealed this place... However, only the Chief Divine¡¯s supreme power could accomplish all this! It must be the Chief Divine¡¯s Divine Descendant who sealed this place!..."


    "Hmm, well said!... A smoking demon¡¯s mouth? A calmed dormant volcano?"


    Listening to this, Xiulote pondered and asked with a smile.


    "Ezpan, since this is the demon¡¯s mouth, is there the Stone of the Dead?"


    "Your Highness is wise! Not only are there copper mines here, but also the Stone of the Dead, which is found at the higher parts of the mountains. Most of the Stones of the Dead used for sacrificial rites in the Capital City, Qinchongcan, come from here!"


    "Very good!"


    Xiulote nodded in satisfaction. To the east of the lake region lay mountainous saltpeter pits, and to the southwest nearby sulfur deposits. Thus, during the saltpeter collection season of winter, a large-scale production of gunpowder could once again be organized. And once copper cannons and gunpowder were ready... the king, confident, smiled again as he looked down at the mountains and rivers.


    "Ezpan, with these rising mountain terrains and river flowing from the mountains, the land is majestic and has a water source. If we were to build a fort and establish a camp here, it would be extremely difficult to conquer!"


    "Your Highness is wise! I have spent a long time in these mines. Nearby in the mountains, there are a few abandoned blue stone fortresses, which are tough to conquer. Fortunately, after Your Highness captured the false king of Tarasco, otherwise, if he had fled here, just by holding the camp, he could have blocked the conquering army and comfortably integrated the southwest..."


    Ezpan smiled in agreement, also with a sigh.


    "It is said that the initial false king of Tarasco stationed his troops here, guarding against the remnants of Urixiu in the southwest and the scattered Tekos Barbarians in the mountains. As the kingdom rapidly expanded, the remnants and Barbarians in the mountains were all subdued. The southwest border consistently expanded to the edge of the Colima Mountain Region, about five hundred li away, making these fortresses in the hinterland completely abandoned."


    Hearing this, Xiulote showed a reaction. He looked towards the Head Warrior on the other side.


    "Bertade, what is the current situation of the Tarasco remnants in the southwest mountains? Have they surrendered?"


    "Your Highness, most of the remnants in the southwest have submitted their surrenders. The Lords from various regions also sent Envoys with tributes, nominally submitting to the newly formed Kingdom of the Lake. But in fact, they still maintain their regional autonomy traditions, tightly controlling everything in their fiefdoms."


    Bertade pondered for a while, first nodding lightly, then slowly shaking his head. He calmly extended his hand towards the southwest.


    "Your Highness, please look, the terrain in the southwest is very fragmented and complex. Interlocking mountains close in the middle to form several lower basins, with scattered towns and villages situated among them. Between the mountain ranges, there are strings of narrow passes that only a few troops need to guard, but it would take a great effort to break through."


    "The mountain people here are isolated and cling together, unruly and difficult to tax. The local nobility are also stubborn and self-important, valuing land above all. Once the central government forcefully sends people to manage, it can easily provoke a joint uprising by the mountain people and the nobility. Moreover, the residents of the southwest mountain area are fewer than a hundred thousand, brave and skilled in battle, with rugged terrain and poor land output. Conquering it is very troublesome and there is hardly any wealth to plunder..."


    "Overall, the cost of directly governing the southwest far exceeds the benefits of direct rule! The central government of the kingdom has no desire and finds it difficult to establish direct rule. During the period of Taracos, the approach to managing this area was to divide and distribute military nobility, enfeoff compliant local chiefs, using military deterrence on one hand and trade on the other."


    Hearing this, Xiulote furrowed his brows. He gazed towards the undulating south, his thoughts drifting far away.


    The Pacific Rim Plate and the American Plate collide, forming a chain of volcanic mountains along the western edge of America. With the long-term volcanic activity, the rich mineral deposits from beneath the earth have been brought up to the surface. In Central America, the plate collision created the towering Southern Madre Mountains, which extend and divide the world¡¯s southwest into nearly unbridgeable halves, with the Fiefs of the southwest being an extension of the Southern Madre Mountains.


    To undertake a campaign from the Patzcuaro Lake Region to the distant Colima Mountain Region, only two routes crossing the mountain range are feasible. The northern route requires assembling a fleet, traveling westward along the Lerma River for five hundred li, conquering the Chapala Lake Region, then turning southwest for four hundred li along the tributaries. The southern route requires traveling through the mountain passes, heading southwest for four hundred li, then turning northwest for another two hundred li.


    Overall, although the northern route is longer, it can transport tens of thousands of troops via water. The southern route, saving one-third of the distance, can only accommodate a small number of elite troops through the mountains."


    "This situation is very similar to that of the Celestial Empire¡¯s southwest!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression remained calm, as he gave a self-mocking smile.


    "The iron ore in the Colima Mountain Region is like the carrot before the donkey, always visible but unattainable! Even reaching Colima and mining the deep iron ore is a tremendous difficulty... Perhaps I should think of some strategies for North America, where the future border between America and Mexica is a hugely rich mineral belt..."


    The King pondered for a while, then asked again.


    "Bertade, where exactly can the Fief effectively deploy officials and exert control over its southwestern border?"


    The Head Warrior tiptoed, glanced at the nearest basin to the southwest, and cautiously finger-counted before carefully responding.


    "Your Highness, the furthest control area in the southwest of the Fief is one hundred and fifty miles southwest of the Capital City, at Urapani City. This is a major town in the western part of Zicao County. Urapani means a plant that flowers and yields fruit in the same season, so it¡¯s also known as the ¡¯Flower Fruit City¡¯ in the mountains!"


    "Flower Fruit City in the mountains?!"


    Xiulote paused, a strange twitch forming on his face. He inquired subconsciously.


    "Are there many monkeys there?"


    "Your Highness is knowledgeable! The southwestern mountains indeed abound with long-haired howler monkeys... and the pineapples they love to eat."


    Ezpan stepped forward and continued to praise with a smile.


    "Hmm." S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The King nodded stiffly. He controlled his expression before asking seriously.


    "In that case, beyond the Lake Region¡¯s southern plains, the Fief controls only a little over fifty miles of mountainous area. Bertade, the southwestern mountains stretch for four to five hundred miles! Even though the mountain paths are difficult, the Fief should not control merely a small portion. How could the scattered Great Nobility of the southwestern mountains resist tens of thousands of the Kingdom Legion?"


    "Your Highness, if willing to endure thousands of casualties, the old nobility of the southwestern mountains indeed couldn¡¯t withstand the Legion, and the Kingdom¡¯s ruled area could extend another two hundred miles southwest. However, subduing the mountain area wouldn¡¯t yield any benefits and effective governance cannot be established quickly. Once the large troops withdraw, the mountain people will surely launch a rebellion again with the support of some interested parties. If troops were stationed in the mountains, the increase in food consumption would double with the lengthening of mountain roads and would also face repeated guerrilla attacks from the mountain people."


    Hearing this, Xiulote fell silent in contemplation. Energized, Ezpan stepped forward and volunteered.


    "Your Highness is merciful! You do not wish for the warriors to suffer too many casualties. I am familiar with the terrain here and can lead the new Spear Army of Prepetcha to pacify this region for Your Highness! In head-on battles, the mountain people are actually quite weak. As long as we dispatch troops before the autumn harvest and stay for a year, then ruin the mountain people¡¯s spring planting next year, their food supply will be depleted. Without food, the mountain people can only submit to the true sun!"


    "Destroying autumn harvest and spring planting... Hmm, Ezpan, I see your loyalty and will entrust you with an even more critical task!"


    Xiulote looked at Ezpan calmly, touched his shoulder intimately, and softly praised him. Immediately, Ezpan, visibly moved, bowed deeply. Then, the King furrowed his brow and turned to the Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, you mentioned ¡¯some interested party¡¯s¡¯ support? Could it be from the south..."


    "Indeed, Your Highness."


    The Head Warrior nodded affirmatively.


    "Scouts have been reporting back continuously. Over the past few months, there have been some unusual activities in Zicao County to the south. Subjugated old nobles meet frequently, seeming to have formed a loose mutual-aid alliance. They also frequently send envoys to conspire with the nobility of the southwestern mountains."


    "These nobles, who dispute and conflict with each other generationally, can only put aside their differences to resist the central pressure. Once the Kingdom Legion gets mired in the mountains, the southern nobility will definitely secretly support the mountains people, divert Your Highness¡¯s attention and exhaust the central power as much as possible..."


    "Hmm, the old nobility in the south..."


    Xiulote asked indifferently.


    "Are they planning a rebellion?"


    "The campaign to the west just ended, and the Alliance¡¯s military exploits are still clearly visible. Unless driven to desperation, they likely lack the courage to rebel."


    "What is their breaking point?"


    "The land,"


    The Head Warrior replied succinctly.


    "Land... Land... I will give them another choice. Although the Chief Divine is the War God, He also possesses mercy."


    The King, expressionless, had already made up his mind. Although the setting sun bled red across the evening sky, the sun would always bring light!


    "I¡¯ve rested enough, let¡¯s continue!"


    The marching call echoed vibrantly, resounding across the vast earth. The elite Samurai once again formed into their marching formation.


    As the sun dipped slightly westward, a huge mountainous mine finally came into view. A rough wooden fence loosely enclosed, separating the copper veins from the rest of the mine. Gilded copper ore painted streaks on the ground, piles of soil and stone built up into small mounds, and rudimentary furnaces emitted black smoke.


    Groups of miners, dressed plainly, bent and gaunt, bowed their heads and carried baskets, bustling both inside and outside the mine, numbering over a thousand. Meanwhile, stationed at key traffic points and highland, were groups of Mexica Samurai. Armored and shielded, some even holding longbows, they closely monitored the operation of the mine. As the most crucial copper mine of the Fief, the site hosted an entire large unit, two hundred elite Samurai.


    Seeing the approach of the Royal Banner from afar, a fully-equipped unit captain of the Samurai sprinted out from the mine. Approaching the King, he revealed a fierce yet familiar face and knelt down like a mountain.


    "Your Highness, I salute you! I am the Divine Eagle¡¯s feathers, following you to the ends of the earth!"

 Chapter 542 - 265: Mine Inspection, Mining Industry in the Classical Period

    "Haha, Necali, my formidable warrior!"


    Xiulote chuckled. He stepped forward, cradling the arm of the Warrior Captain, motioning him to rise.


    "You have been in charge of the Main Copper Mine in Qinganbate for four months now. How are things at the mine?"


    "Your Highness, the Main Copper Mine is operating normally. We have five large squads of miners, just over a thousand. One large squad of warriors, two hundred strong!"


    Necali stood up and responded loudly, as if he were being inspected by the Marshal in the army. He continued with a respectful and detailed report.


    "In the late stages of the western campaign, the Qinganbate copper mine fell into chaos. The Tarasco warriors guarding the mine were drawn to the front lines, and most of the old miners fled. The mine area began to recover after the victory of the western campaign, with the assistance of the Head Eagle Warrior. New miners were continuously conscripted from various places... July and August are the peak of the rainy season. The heavy rain halted work at the mine for more than two months, and it was not until mid-September that mining officially resumed. There is a small furnace for smelting ore at the mine, and a new batch of copper material has already been smelted, ready to be transported to the Capital City..."


    Xiulote stepped forward, listening to the Warrior Captain¡¯s report as he strode towards the center of the mine. The Head Warrior quietly issued a few orders, and thousands of trusted aides also split into two teams. Half of them stayed outside, occupying high positions to scout, focusing on guarding against the south. The other half, gripping their weapons with stern expressions, followed the figure of the King.


    In the solemn footsteps of the trusted aides, the profound and splendid Royal Banner of the Black Wolf was also erected at a high point in the mining encampment. The guarding warriors shouted harshly, and over a thousand miners knelt down like a swarm of busy ants. They bowed their heads deeply, pressing them against the cold, muddy ground, daring not to make a sound or to steal a glance at the King¡¯s face, but silently awaiting his commands.


    "Hmm, numb expressions, eyes filled with fear, obedience is good..."


    Xiulote observed the miners¡¯ behavior for a while, then waved his hand.


    &"Let them continue their work, don¡¯t delay production."


    Upon hearing this, the Warrior Captain became fiercely animated, bellowing out.


    "The Supreme King has descended upon the mine! Everyone, put your spirits into it, get back to work! Whoever fails to meet today¡¯s quota will be hanged from the railing, every last one of you!"


    The miners voiced their fear softly, like bees receiving orders. Quickly, they bowed their heads again and silently busied themselves.


    Xiulote looked around and saw the so-called railings. It was a high hill lined with several meters-long wooden poles, from which several heads hung. The autumn in the Highland was still hot, and the heads had already rotted beyond recognition. Swarms of flies hovered around the heads, and a subtle odor, carried by the wind, spread a silent intimidation.


    "Your Highness, these are the mining leaders who first caused trouble and were reluctant to go into the mines when work resumed! There are also some conscripted miners who wanted to escape at night... I captured them all that day and beheaded them in front of the miners!"


    Necali raised his head, proud of his decisive actions before the King.


    "This group of miners was rebellious, just about to cause trouble, but I easily suppressed them! I caught the ringleaders, and after having chopped off a few, the others became much more compliant. We, the Mexica warriors, have emerged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood; there¡¯s no room for these lowly miners to act unruly! Going into the mine might be dangerous, but they need to obey, even if it means dying down there!..."


    Xiulote looked on for a moment, expressionless, then nodded slightly.


    Mining has always been considered a perilous endeavor in any era. In this era shrouded in myths and ignorance, it was even more so. People generally believed that the underground was the realm of the deceased, harboring irresistible dangers and offending the majesty of deities. Entering the mines was like setting sail at sea, a profession only undertaken out of necessity, with no secure or long-term future. The miners held a very low social status and found it difficult to marry and raise a family.


    After the western campaign, the nobility in various places had been wiped out, leaving vast fields unattended and many villages with young widows. Miners, claiming to be refugees, could join in the communal farming in villages, happily marry, and lead long, secure lives. Without violent coercion and constraint, few miners would willingly stay at the mine.


    This group of skilled miners was conscripted thanks to the strict military management of the Lake Region. They were identified by savvy village elders, then reported to the main priests and subsequently escorted here by the Militia Captains.


    The King pondered for a moment before speaking slowly.


    "Necali, forced restraint is indeed essential, but we can¡¯t rely only on that. Even when a Jaguar hunts deer, it leaves survivors. Regarding the treatment of the miners, it can be appropriately improved."


    "As you command, Your Highness." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Warrior Captain immediately bowed to take his orders. Then, he smiled and said.


    "Your Highness, our army¡¯s veterans all know of your renowned benevolence, and we all regard you as our towering mountain! After executing the miner leaders, I specially distributed the warriors¡¯ liquor to comfort these miners. Their meals are also well taken care of; you can rest assured, Your Highness!"


    "Very good! I will allocate sufficient liquor for you. Necali, I have valued your abilities since you captured the gates of the Capital City with your quick thinking, and I hold high expectations for you! Managing the copper mines is a matter of great importance for the fief, and I am confident in your handling of it!"


    Xiulote nodded with a smile, affectionately patting the other¡¯s shoulder.

 Chapter 543 - 265: Mine Inspection, The Mining Industry in the Classical Period_2

    The miners of this era were exceptionally toil-worn and endured great hardship, constantly living in danger. They were well-organized, able to evade surveillance in the underground mines, secretly collude, and with bronze mining picks in hand, it was easy for them to riot. They were the most dangerous class of civilians, requiring equally robust managers to oversee them.


    Necali, a veteran scout and martial artist, had survived the brutal duels at the forefront of battle and was also fluent in Prepetcha. His methods were flexible and decisive, able to command respect from the samurai he led and suppress riots quickly.


    Xiulote had taken note of his past performances and appointed him as the head of the mine. Now it seemed, the choice was most appropriate!


    With this thought, the King¡¯s smile grew warmer.


    "Necali, my samurai, have you grown accustomed to living at the mine? If there is anything you need for your life, you can tell me directly, or ask the logistics official who transports the supplies!"


    "Ah, Your Highness... A samurai must restrain his desires and hone his body. I don¡¯t really have any needs for life, but there is one thought in my heart..."


    The Warrior Captain¡¯s expression shifted. He hesitated for a moment, then, seeing the encouraging smile of His Highness, carefully switched to a more intimate address.


    "Marshal, I am an old soldier who has followed you in battle for many years, a senior samurai who has risen through the ranks with each enemy head taken, never having handled a copper pickaxe... I wish to return to the legion, to be part of the campaigns of our fief, continuing to fight for you on the battlefield!... This dreary work of guarding the mine is truly numbing, to the point of developing sores on my behind..."


    "Haha!"


    Hearing Necali¡¯s request, Xiulote could not help but chuckle. He thought for a while, then straightened his expression and instructed.


    "Necali, the western campaign has just ceased not long ago, and our fief needs time to recuperate and replenish. There are no significant battles forthcoming. Even if we were to send troops to the border, it would mostly be for capturing prisoners to replenish our fief¡¯s population. Time would be spent marching and escorting prisoners, hardly an interesting affair."


    "My samurai, copper mining is the foundation on which our fief stands, and this mining area is crucial! My visit this time is to inspect on-site and expand the scale of mining operations. Soon, the number of people in the mining area and the output will far exceed the peak of the Tarasco Kingdom¡¯s prime!... Necali, you bear a heavy burden!"


    The King eased his tone, smiling as he spoke.


    "Of course, I have not overlooked your contributions and have plans to make great use of you. As long as you do well, I will entrust you with the entire mining area, over a dozen mines, to be the chief in charge!"


    "As you command, Marshal!"


    Upon hearing the words "great use," Necali¡¯s spirits lifted, and he replied loudly. Then, somewhat dejectedly, he muttered under his breath.


    "Chief in charge of the mining area? Isn¡¯t that just overseeing mining..."


    "Hmm?"


    "I will not disappoint your expectations, Marshal!"


    Necali immediately shouted out loudly, striving to be enthusiastic.


    The Head Warrior shook his head slightly. He knew the high regard in which the copper mining area was held in the heart of His Highness, and the scale to which the mining area was planned to reach. As the chief in charge, Necali was, in fact, being promised a future equivalent to that of a Legion Commander.


    "What a lucky fellow..."


    Bertade thought and smiled, but he did not speak for His Highness.


    The King simply reached out, solemnly ruffled Necali¡¯s hair, and spoke again with seriousness.


    "Necali, explain the specific situation of the mine, so I can see how well you grasp the affairs here!"


    "As you command, Marshal!"


    Necali bowed his head in salute, stood straight, and replied loudly.


    "The Qinganbate copper mining district is located 100 leagues southwest of the Capital City, slightly south of 60 leagues west of Patzcuaro City, and 40 leagues southwest of Ihuatzio City. This main mining field is by a mountain river. The entire mining district is surrounded by mountainous terrain within a fifty-league radius, making military advancement slow and supply routes challenging. Bulk transportation relies only on a narrow river..."


    Drawing on his scout¡¯s experience, Necali continued his description.


    "The main ores in the mining district are copper ores with jaguar spots, found both on the surface and underground. The surface ores at the main field have been largely mined by the Prepetcha, and there is still some left at several smaller mines nearby. Based on the mining reports these days, the underground ore has higher quality, and the resulting copper smelted is also greater in quantity!..."


    Hearing this, Xiulote nodded, his thoughts wandering afar.


    The Qinganbate mining district was a large porphyry copper mine that continued to be mined into later generations. The surface copper belts alone had reserves in the order of tens of millions of tons, while the deeper layers were difficult to estimate. Further down, there were enormous extending ore layers with substantial associated gold and silver. However, in Central America, where gold and silver mines were not scarce, these gold and silver values associated with copper had yet to be seen as worth mining. This was because within the Alliance¡¯s territory, there were plenty of easily mined gold and silver rich mines.


    The King listened to the report, but his gaze moved to the bustling miners not far away. He saw over a hundred people lighting fires, scorching the copper-containing rock face. Several hundred others were about to enter the mine shafts, each looking grey and fearful, as if headed into a terrifying Abyss.


    "What are they doing?" S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote pointed to the miners burning fires and asked.


    "Marshal, they are using a traditional method to shatter the rock wall. First, they burn the rock wall red-hot with fire, then douse it with cold water from a small pond of mountain spring. This evokes a conflict between the Fire God and Water Serpent, shattering the tough rock layers in their divine clash, and then extracting the copper-containing stones!"


    "Heating with fire and dousing with water, hmm, this is using thermal expansion and contraction to fracture the rock layers."


    Xiulote thought briefly, then pointed toward a nearby mine shaft.


    "How deep is the underground excavation? And how long?"

 Chapter 544 - 265: Mine Inspection, The Mining Industry in the Classical Period_3

    "The deepest part of the mine is about twenty meters, but the main areas are around ten meters. As for the length, it¡¯s hard to calculate, probably more than a li? Myths tell of great dangers lurking deep underground, home to demons and specters. When these evil creatures attack, torches and oil lamps would inexplicably extinguish, plunging everything into darkness. Miners would then, in the dark, have their vitality drained, their complexions flushing cherry red, and they¡¯d inexplicably collapse dead without a single wound. Even if they were fortunate enough to be rescued, the ebbing of their life force would leave them insane or demented."


    "Digging further could easily anger the Earth Mother Goddess, bringing tremors and collapses. Therefore, the miners never dared to dig too deep, afraid to disturb the demons suppressed beneath the earth, or incur the wrath of the Mother Goddess¡¯s majesty..."


    At this point, Necali¡¯s face showed deep reverence. This seasoned Samurai, unfazed by death on the battlefield, and who could slaughter men as if mowing grass, was careful and retreating before the unknown powers of myth.


    Xiulote remained impassive, gently shaking his head. He thought carefully about the details in the Warrior Captain¡¯s account.


    "Flames going out without reason, cherry-red complexions, collapsing dead... that¡¯s a lack of oxygen and carbon monoxide poisoning, indicating a need to address ventilation issues. Tremors and collapses... therefore, deeper passageways would also need wooden supports for reinforcement."


    As Xiulote pondered this, he saw another group of miners emerge from the ground. They walked silently to the edge of a small pond, expressionless and mute, with clay jars on their backs, only to pour out water with a "splash" sound.


    "Huh? The clay jar is full of water?"


    "Yes, Marshal. This is to drain water from the mines. During the rainy season, with too much ingress, draining is a daily task and requires the most manpower. Sometimes, draining is the only work available during the rains. You see, there¡¯s a shallow channel in the mountain spring¡¯s pond, from which the overflowing water is led to a little river, eventually reaching the lowest ground at Lake Zirahuen..."


    At this, Xiulote was somewhat astonished.


    "It is indeed dangerous when the mine is flooded. But does drainage require so many people?"


    "Yes, Marshal. Today, thirty percent of the workforce is draining. When it rains, the number is even higher. Drainage is the most critical task in mining; only after water is sufficiently drained can the miners begin to excavate!"


    Xiulote thought for a moment, then patiently asked,


    "How exactly are the miners arranged? And what is the daily productivity of copper?"


    The Warrior Captain thought for a moment, counting on his fingers.


    "Two hundred Samurai form one unit, and there are five units of a thousand miners each. Of these units, one unit of 200 is responsible for logistics, including tasks like lumbering, charcoal burning, fire making, cooking, and other miscellaneous chores."


    "One unit of 200 is in charge of copper ore selection and smelting. They start by busying themselves in the river, using wooden sluices to wash the ores and sift through for quality pieces. Then they crush the pieces of ore, the smaller the better generally. Lastly, they put them in small clay kilns with airholes and use charcoal to smother and heat them. When the fire is out, they cool the ashes with water, resulting in ochre copper suitable for direct forging into utensiles for the Capital City."


    "Good! You¡¯ve been very attentive!"


    Xiulote smiled in approval, expressing satisfaction with Necali. The Warrior Captain racked his brains, continuing to recall.


    "Then, a unit and a half, or 300 people, carry clay jars in and out of the mine to continuously drain it. When they¡¯re about done, the last one and a half units of 300 enter the mine with bamboo baskets, using Bronze Pickaxes to chisel the hard rock walls and extract the blue-green Copper Ore. This work is quite tough and very dangerous; miners take turns doing it..." Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The King nodded patiently, listening to the end. Necali clenched his fist tightly, smacking it proudly against his chest and declared,


    "Marshal, on average, 300 people excavate, each expected to mine 20 jin per day, resulting in 12 jin of copper after smelting. With 1,000 miners in the mine, that¡¯s a daily production of 3,600 jin of copper!"

 Chapter 545 - 266: Mine Improvement, Guidance of Divine Revelation

    "A daily output of 3,600 catties?"


    Xiulote suddenly turned pale. He looked at Necali with some shock. As the main copper-mining area in the fief, the daily output of 1,000 miners was merely 3,600 catties of copper, and only 30% of them could actually participate in excavation. This production efficiency was far below his expectations. After all, the copper produced here not only supplied the entire fief but also nearly half of the world!


    Seeing the king¡¯s shock, Necali wore a proud expression.


    "Yes, Marshal. Under my management, the miners spare no effort and exert their utmost strength! The mining volume per worker has reached the highest level of the Tarasco Kingdom in the past decade!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote turned to look at Ezpan, who had always been following at his side but seldom spoke.


    "Your Highness, the person in charge of the mine has done an excellent job managing it. This output is indeed very high," Ezpan said with emotion, recalling memories from the past. He had stayed in these mines for a very long time, and many things were deeply ingrained in his brain like instincts.


    "In this mining area, it¡¯s impossible to excavate during the peak of the rainy season in July and August. A large amount of rainfall in June and September requires at least half of the people to drain water, while April, May, October, and November¡¯s drainage accounts for at least a third of the workforce. Only during the dry season in December, January, February, and March can full-force excavation take place, and it also has to contend with underground springs. At that time, the output should be around 6,000 catties of copper per day for a thousand workers at its highest. However, averaging out the rainy and dry seasons over the year, it basically stands at about 4,000 catties per day for a thousand workers."


    Xiulote didn¡¯t speak. He slightly lowered his gaze, recalling the mining efficiency in modern Europe, and felt immediately dissatisfied.


    "How could the output be so meager? Why is the efficiency so low!"


    In fact, this was actually a misunderstanding on Xiulote¡¯s part. Mining is a team activity that requires a high level of coordination, as well as substantial technical and management skills. Excavating hard copper ore is also more time-consuming and labor-intensive than mining coal. In the Classical Period, lacking machinery, the actual number of workers who could participate in excavation was usually less than half of the total number of miners.


    Even in the Ming and Qing dynasties of the Celestial Empire, despite having quality iron tools and mature technology, the daily output of a miner was only about 20-30 catties of copper ore. Of course, this was also because the copper mines in Yunnan were mostly poor and difficult to exploit, and the ore quality was relatively low.


    In fact, of the world¡¯s top ten copper mines, eight are located on the American west of the Pacific Rim, with six in South America¡¯s Chile and Peru alone. Compared with these, the reserves and quality of copper ore in the Celestial Empire are so inadequate that they¡¯re enough to bring tears to the cash-strapped emperors.


    Xiulote looked solemn and remained silent, causing the surroundings to fall still. He looked up at the sky, carefully contemplating the movies and written materials from his memories, determined to make improvements to the mining facility¡¯s production equipment. After a moment, he reached out his hand, and the Head Warrior understood and brought him paper and pencil.


    Necali stood respectfully by the side, eyes widened in awe, watching the "Divine Revelation" of His Highness.


    "First is a straight shaft down, then depending on the direction of the rock layers, extend sloping shafts and horizontal galleries at different heights. At regular intervals, or in unstable rock layers, construct wooden frames to ensure the stability of the mine structure. The wooden frames should be connected by tenons, sometimes nailing the tips into the rock wall..."


    Xiulote first sketched out a simple mining shaft, then emphasized the support structure of the wooden frames. Thinking of the underground caves he had visited, he again stressed.


    "The reinforced wooden frames must be uniform and orderly. It is essential to nail the frames into the rock wall in the sloping shafts to prevent slipping. And in the fragmented ore zone, where rocks frequently fall, the frames must remain enclosed..."


    Looking at the drawings, Necali nodded blankly, clearly not understanding.


    Seeing this, the king pondered for a while then spoke earnestly.


    "My warrior, these drawings contain the wisdom of the gods! The God of Flora is the child of the Earth Mother Goddess, bearing Her mercy and also blessing the lives of miners. Wooden frames can stabilize the world underground and are the most fundamental basis of excavation. You must construct the support structures seriously, just like building altars, ensuring the sturdiness!"


    The Warrior Captain then became solemn, firmly promising.


    "By your command, Marshal! You are the Priest of Divine Revelation, and I will do as you say!" S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote gave a faint smile. He then drew a vertical ventilation shaft above the extended horizontal galleries.


    "Only Tlaloc, the powerful Wind God, can overcome the evil beneath the earth and bring vitality to the underground mines... As the mining tunnels extend, there must be a vertical shaft from the surface for the force of the Wind God to enter. Multiple ventilation shafts can be excavated at different heights, forming convection under varying air pressures. Alternatively, torches, charcoal, and offerings of flora can be lit below the ventilation shaft to artificially heat the air below, creating convection..."


    "What, you ask what convection is? Convection is the wind that connects the underground with the surface; it is the flow of Divine Power, bringing the vitality of the surface to the underground..."


    After thinking for a while, Xiulote drew another mining air blower, similar to those used in iron smelting but slightly larger.


    "In places where it¡¯s difficult to dig ventilation shafts, this can be used to pump air in... to introduce the force of the Wind God, though it will require some manpower."


    Necali nodded vigorously, engraving this mysterious knowledge into his brain as if it was dogma to be followed.


    "Next is the improvement of lighting. Each group of miners must have people wearing specialized wooden helmets, with hanging half-open ceramic oil lamps. This is to pray for the gaze of the Chief Divine to bless the work of the miners, so they do not fear. If the oil lamp quickly dims or goes out, it signifies that evil lurks ahead. They must retreat immediately and then pump the force of the Wind God ahead..."

 Chapter 546 - 266: Mine Improvement, Guidance of Divine Revelation_2

    "At your command, Marshal! But with so many religious rituals, perhaps it would be good to arrange for two Priests at the mine? The miners likely don¡¯t have the ability to communicate with the spirits."


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression shifted as he laughed and said.


    "Good! I will send several Priests there to oversee these important ceremonies. The miners are numerous, and indeed need Priests to guide their faith and soothe their spirits. With the Priests¡¯ prayers, the miners will better overcome their fear of descending into the mines. Sometimes, what truly frightens you is nothing but fear itself..."


    "Next, we need to construct labour-saving lifting systems at regular intervals in the mineshaft. Relying solely on miners to carry the ores is both slow and inefficient. A great deal of manpower is wasted in transportation."


    As Xiulote spoke, he drew a picture of a water-drawing windlass.


    "Build a windlass in the mine for transportation from below to above. The current mine depths of more than ten meters can be managed with a single windlass. As the mineshaft becomes deeper and longer, we will need to construct tiered windlasses, carrying the ores up level by level, to save manpower to the greatest extent."


    Necali showed an expression of sudden understanding upon seeing this. He was of course familiar with the effort-saving nature of the windlass.


    "Lastly, and most importantly, improvements must be made to the drainage system. Remember, balance the power of the gods of wind and rain, expel the moisture, and transform it into wind. The windlasses responsible for lifting the ores can also be fitted with water buckets for pumping water. In places where water accumulates in the mine, additional drainage wells can be constructed. Of course, I have another effective drainage tool for you..."


    At this point, Xiulote paused. He recalled the hand-operated reciprocating pumps from future rural areas, also known as simple manual pumps or hand pumps. The principle of such a device is the reciprocating movement of the piston, which creates a vacuum to draw water, and then pushes it out from the outlet at the top. Applying the principle of the pump and using bamboo to make a similar water drawing device resulted in the "Bamboo Dragon."


    Necali perked up and watched carefully. He observed as His Highness drew an irregular bamboo tube with an opening on one side at the top. Then he drew a fitting movable stick inside the bamboo tube, and finally, he sketched an odd hand crank. The entire drawing was primitive and abstract, like a sacred and mysterious Priestly symbol.


    "It¡¯s roughly this shape."


    Xiulote looked at his rough sketch and pursed his lips; his drawing skills certainly needed improvement.


    "The nesting bamboo tube should be easy to make; the effort-saving hand crank is not necessary. The operation is very simple, just a push and a pull to draw the water. If there are any damages or leaks, they can be patched up with rubber from a soccer ball..." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That¡¯s all, reinforcement, ventilation, lighting, lifting, drainage, these five tasks¡ªcarry them out as I have instructed! Necali, there will be Priests to help you calm the people. What you need to do is improve the facilities and equipment, mine the rich veins deep underground, and strive to increase productivity! I¡¯ll set a small goal for you, raise the average monthly output by half, to 6000 catties for a thousand people!"


    "Ah, 6000 catties for a thousand people?... At your command, Marshal! Following your will, I am willing to give my life for you!"


    Necali accepted the order loudly, bowing to the ground, as if he were receiving military orders on the battlefield.


    Xiulote nodded in satisfaction and extended his hand to stroke the other¡¯s hair again. The advantage of using loyal officers as managers was their ability to follow superior orders without hesitation. Their downside was a lack of specialized expertise and difficulty in independent thought.


    "Hmm, upon return, I must summon Chalape to send two mining experts from the Metal Family to assist."


    Xiulote¡¯s mind raced as he looked towards the Head Warrior again. The mine¡¯s facilities needed improvements, and the scale of the mining operations also had to be expanded further.


    "Bertade, how many strong labourers can be supplied by the nearby villages?"


    Bertade fell into thought; there were so many villages in the Lake Region that he could not recall at the moment. He fetched a rolled up atlas he carried with him, flipping through it as he read.


    "Your Highness, within a radius of over twenty miles, there are seven to eight civilian settlements with a total population of more than fifteen thousand. If the autumn tribute from the villages is transported to the mining site nearby, it can supply three to four thousand able-bodied laborers. The mountain roads over this distance are rough, and we¡¯ll also need to conscript laborers from the villages to transport the grain."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment before giving his orders.


    "Conscript the tribute tax and labor from nearby villages to support the Qinganbate mining operation! Liaise with village Priests and reduce some of the tribute. Also, draw two thousand from the rested troops of the Surrendered Army from the southern route to rush to the mining area. By the end of October, the mine should have three thousand workers digging, and by the end of December, the production of copper materials in the mining area needs to be tripled... Necali, do you have the confidence?"


    "By your command, Marshal! The capacity of the main mine is limited, improvements are needed, and there are several smaller mines around, all of which I will develop!"


    Necali responded loudly, then, whispering, said,


    "Marshal, mining has always been seen as a perilous profession, and miners are very lowly regarded. The Surrendered Army soldiers have wielded weapons, formed ranks, and some even have blood on their hands. Forcing them into mining might be difficult to manage. These people not only pose a risk of rebellion but also have the capability...could they be replaced with more easily commanded slaves?"


    Hearing this, Xiulote thought for a moment and then shook his head.


    "Necali, you are right, but the people of the Fief have already established settlements, I don¡¯t have any slaves to give you. Hmm, there will be Alliance officers and Priests in the Surrendered Army to help pacify them... wait a few more months, when the legions are dispatched, the captured Canine Descendants from the north will all be sent here!"


    The King thought again about the organizational level of the Surrendered Army, which might also include some skilled Samurai, indeed a significant risk.


    "Here¡¯s what we¡¯ll do, I will give you two more squadrons, four hundred Samurai! Six hundred Samurai to oversee three thousand miners, which is just the limit that nearby villages can supply... Necali, do well! From today, I promote you to Warrior Camp Chief, and all these people will be under your command!"


    "Thank you, Marshal! I am honored to be your wings!..."


    Necali was overjoyed and once again prostrated himself to accept the command. The King also revealed a smile. The two of them as if in agreement, finalized the rules and requirements for the mining camp.


    The sun was setting in the west, leaving golden-red afterglow upon the undulating mountains. Wispy smoke rose from the mountains, faintly intertwining with the crimson afterglow, like ribbons of dancing spirits. Unknowingly, it was already time for dinner.


    Bertade had no time to admire the magnificent sunset scenery. He was vigilantly watching the gathering miners who were starting to make fires and prepare their meal. Soon, thick cooking smoke rose from a corner of the rear camp. The smoke was dense, as if they were preparing meals for three to four thousand people, according to Samurais¡¯ common sense.


    The Head Warrior furrowed his brow. He informed his Highness with a word and then drew his War Club, leading more than ten trusted aides to investigate. Over a hundred Cooks were busy in the rear camp, preparing fragrant corn cakes for the Samurai and enough grains for the miners. A few guarding Samurais were also supervising by the side.


    Bertade did a brief inspection. To ensure safety, His Highness¡¯s food was all brought from the Royal Palace by the trusted aides, and these cakes were mainly provided to some of the accompanying Personal Army. He watched for a moment, nodded his head, and then his attention was caught by the cooking stoves.


    "You there, what is this?"


    The Head Warrior asked with some curiosity. Under the stove was not burning firewood but black stones, and the flames were vigorous, producing particularly heavy smoke. The Cook in front of him was continuously adding this kind of fuel.


    Facing the question, the Cook stepped back, bowing reverently to the ground. The flames from the Black Stone rose with thick smoke, which already blackened his face.


    "Great Master, this is what we dug up... the solidified blood of Demons from underground, containing the ¡¯dead fire¡¯ of the Underworld... Though seen as unclean by the Priests, it still burns... Great Master."


    Hearing this, Bertade took a piece of Black Stone and examined it closely in his hand. The stone was somewhat soft, and when slightly squeezed, pieces crumbled off. His hand quickly became stained black by the Black Stone. The Head Warrior frowned and, holding the Black Stone, went to the King touched by Divine Revelation.

 Chapter 547 - 267: Black Stone Myth, Primitive Coking!

    "This is... high-quality bituminous coal?!"


    Xiulote, holding the asphalt-like black stone in his hand and looking at the thick smoke from the burning black stone nearby, cried out in surprise.


    A gust of wind blew by, dispersing the smoke and the cry in the air. The wind also brought with it the sulfur smell unique to mining areas and blew away the coal fragments in the king¡¯s hand.


    The king seemed transfixed as he gazed upon it. They appeared to be the initial seeds, containing the faint signs of life for an industry¡¯s inception.


    "Bertade, you have made a great contribution!... Where did you find this?"


    "From the camp¡¯s kitchen. The miners unearthed this kind of black stone from underground to use for cooking fires, and it seems they have been doing so for quite some time."


    Bertade smiled faintly. He understood his Highness very well and had known the prince would certainly be interested in such peculiar items.


    "Ezpan, have you seen this before?"


    Xiulote turned to Ezpan, who came from a mining background. Looking apprehensively at the black stone in the king¡¯s hand, Ezpan answered in a low voice.


    "Your Highness, this is the blood of demons that coexists with the Stone of the Dead. It is said that in the legends, the great Divine Descendants slew and suppressed many underground demons. These demons, hailing from the dark Abyss, turned into black rocks of blood and flesh upon death. The mine has secretly used the black stone as fuel for over a decade now, at least since the first time I worked as a miner. This stuff burns for a long time and with great heat, saving much effort needed to chop wood."


    "How abundant is the black stone?"


    "Not too little, seemingly inexhaustible. There are two deposits near the Main Copper Mine, and some can also be mined underground."


    "If there is so much of this black stone, why have I never seen it in the Capital City?"


    Hearing this, Xiulote felt both invigorated and puzzled. In this era, chopping wood was an extremely time-consuming and labor-intensive task. After chopping the wood, one still needed to wait for it to dry before it could be burned, and even then, the heat value was not high. In contrast, coal was easy to mine and lasted long when burned, clearly superior to wood.


    "Your Highness, because it is the unclean blood of demons!"


    Ezpan was surprised at the king¡¯s nonchalance.


    "Some miners once brought black stone to the priests in Tarasco, hoping for a reward. The priests, however, were infuriated, deeming it evil and immensely unclean. They said that if the flame of the Stone of the Dead could communicate with the world of the dead, then naturally the burning of demon blood could also connect with demons... It is a highly dangerous evil object that should not be casually handled by commoners."


    Xiulote paused, finding the deduction somewhat consistent with theology. He asked curiously.


    "And then what happened?"


    "And then... the miner was executed. The priests also sent people to the mine to identify the evil, and many of the older miners who had used the black stone were also put to death. Fortunately, I had only just arrived at the mine and they needed to keep people for mining operations, so I escaped that fate... After that, no one dared to talk about it in public."


    "Mining is really hard work, and there¡¯s always too much to do. By burning black stone, a lot of manpower is saved, allowing the mines to meet production requirements. The Tarasco samurai overseeing the work turned a blind eye, letting the lowly miners use the unclean black stone. They themselves would never touch it..."


    "...I see... Advanced production methods that challenged divine authority were suppressed, yet preserved in secret because of their advanced nature..."


    After listening to all this, Xiulote shook his head, filled with emotion. The issue couldn¡¯t be simply attributed to the conservative ignorance of the mythological era. As a High Priest himself, he could better understand the logic behind the actions of the Tarasco priests.


    The divine authority of the priests did not come from force but from the awe of the hearts of the people. The Tarasco priests burned the Stone of the Dead to communicate with the deceased, deterring the masses and sustaining their authoritative divine power. This majesty would not tolerate challenges from ordinary civilians; burning "magical items" naturally remained a privilege reserved for priests alone. The demon blood was closely related to the Stone of the Dead in mythology, so it could not be discovered by lowly miners, nor could the common people use it at will!


    "Divine authority serves the priests. The root of this misfortune lies in the identity of the discoverer! If a High Priest had discovered coal and put a different spin on it, the outcome would¡¯ve been completely different."


    Xiulote mused. As he delved deeper into governance, he increasingly felt that the struggle for power and identity and the suppression of traditional authority were omnipresent in the operation of the Kingdom. How to continuously balance tradition and innovation, to provide growth space for new forces while maintaining the stability of the Kingdom, would become his lifelong exploration and reflection!


    The discovery of coal disrupted the original plans. Xiulote postponed the subsequent farm inspections and focused entirely on investigating the "food of industry," also considering the use of coal.


    The Black Wolf¡¯s Royal Banner remained stationed in the mining area, envoys sent to support were dispatched back to the Capital City, and new Royal Decrees were issued. Guided by experienced miners, squads of samurai set out in all directions to collect all the special rocks, including samples of the black stone, to search for "where the demons were suppressed."


    In the Main Copper Mine amidst the mountains, mining by the workers continued. The king did not interfere much with the mine¡¯s operations, nor did he care about the rudimentary living conditions. He simply collected all the coal from the mining area under the anxious eyes of the miners, and then began to attempt to refine coke using the crude methods he remembered.


    On the highlands of northern Jin in later times, crude coking was once very common. Xiulote had traveled there and seen the real thing, and also heard stories about coking from a tour guide. In general, crude coking was similar to charcoal burning in the sense that coal was ignited in a furnace where air was not completely sealed off, in order to achieve high-temperature dry distillation and carbonization. The kiln for crude coking could be designed like a clay brick kiln, with only slight modifications to its shape.


    Xiulote assembled a dozen experienced miners, and after three to five days, they built a brick kiln furnace over 2 meters tall.


    The kiln had more than a meter buried in the ground, and the top was shaped like an inverted pot, with a bottom diameter of about 3-4 meters. Overall, it somewhat resembled a Mongolian yurt. The furnace walls had vent holes for igniting and flue channels. The top of the kiln was tightly covered with clay, except for the chimney and ventilation holes.


    While the kiln was being built, another group of miners crushed the coal and carefully sieved it to remove impurities. Once both sides were ready, they filled the furnace with the crushed coal and packed it tightly. Then they lit the coal through the ignition hole, beginning the coking process in the furnace.


    Soon, the coal gradually heated and began to burn, emitting billowing hot air and thick smoke from the top flue. The smoke was intense, filled with both the pungent waste gases from the combustion of coal and a large amount of unpleasant coal decomposition products.


    Xiulote stepped back a few paces, away from the range of the heatwave and smoke. He sniffed lightly and faintly detected a familiar, pungent odor.


    "Hmm? This smell... ammonia?"


    The thought momentarily carried the King¡¯s mind far away. An ancient term surfaced in his memory, prompting him to sigh lightly.


    "Coal chemical industry..."


    The smelting of the coal continued for a full ten days, and the thick smoke gradually became lighter and then disappeared. This indicated that the coal in the kiln was nearly done calcining, leaving behind a hard, porous coke.


    Only then did Xiulote arrange for people to pour water onto the scorching hot kiln to extinguish it. Not until the kiln had cooled off did Ezpan personally move to unseal the furnace mouth and extract the epoch-making metallurgical fuel, coke!


    "Your Highness, this is the Divine Object you received after the sacrificial rite! We thank the Chief Divine for his blessing, for purifying the demon¡¯s blood!"


    Ezpan¡¯s expression flickered with excitement, shouting slogans of the divine. The surrounding miners all looked on with reverence, prostrating themselves in unison.


    "The Chief Divine is omnipotent and incomparable to ordinary deities. His radiance shines upon the earth, cleansing the impurity in the Black Stone. As long as we pray to the Chief Divine, the commoners may use the Black Stone without fear of corruption! And when the Black Stone undergoes the ritual of calcination, it becomes a true Divine Object, imbued with the power to change the world!"


    Clad in elaborate Ceremonial Dress, Xiulote recited in an archaic tone in front of all the samurai and miners. With irrefutable authority, he intended to redefine the mythical status of Black Stone.


    In the midst of the King-Priest¡¯s chanting, everyone prostrated themselves together, facing the freshly coked kiln, praying loudly at this peculiar "altar."


    "Praise the Chief Divine! He is all-powerful, bestowing upon us the Divine Object with His warm flames!..."


    After the solemn prayer, Xiulote waved his hand, signaling the samurai and miners to resume their work. Then, struggling to contain his excitement, he picked up a piece of coke and examined it closely.


    The piece of coke in his hand was irregularly shaped, with differently sized pores throughout, and was silvery-gray in color. With a slight grip, he could feel the unique hard texture of coke, completely different from the loose coal.


    In this era, coke-making technology was only mastered by the Celestial Empire in the East. Although coking iron had appeared two hundred years prior, it had always been passed down among deeply established master craftsmen. This was the first coke production in the entire western hemisphere!


    "Now that we have coke, all that¡¯s missing is iron!"


    Xiulote felt a moment of sentiment, another seed he had sown by hand, slowly altering the entire era. After a while, the King waved his hand, and Ezpan, along with two samurai, began removing the formed coke, weighing it with a simple balance scale.


    Ezpan quickly calculated the yield, which was about 40%. With increasing experience in coking, the yield would gradually improve, with the peak for primitive coking expected to reach 60%.


    "Hmm, for a first-time coke production, the coal quality in the mine is quite high!..."


    The King murmured softly to himself, then patiently waited. Groups of scouts gradually returned from all directions, bringing mineral reports from the mining area.


    The Qinganbate mining area, located near a dormant volcano, contained a wealth of rich ore deposits. Dominated by copper, it was estimated to be over ten million tons. Following was the associated gold and silver ore, situated deeper and more troublesome to smelt, not currently worth exploiting. Next, the volcanic area¡¯s sulfur - the quantity was not clear, but definitely sufficient for use and was at one time secretly controlled by the priests.


    And, surprisingly, a miner presented a piece of lead-zinc ore familiar to the Alliance. Given the geological features of the area, the lead ore should also contain silver.


    "Hmm, lead-silver separation, the cupellation method..."


    Not sure what he was thinking of, a smile appeared on Xiulote¡¯s face. He chuckled, shaking his head, and then inquired about the most important coal mines. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Within a twenty-mile radius of the mining area, they discovered five small coal mines with reserves of a million tons each. According to the miners, there were several more underground deposits of the "Demon stone." The total reserves were certainly more than twenty million tons, consisting mainly of bituminous and lignite coal.


    By later standards, the coal reserves here were modest, their value nowhere near comparable to gold and silver mines. In later times, the Qinganbate mining area was monopolized by mining conglomerates. The Mexica Government, despite discovering coal mines, deemed them unworthy of exploitation, leaving only private teams to stealthily mine them.


    In this era, however, such reserves were already sufficient in Xiulote¡¯s view.


    "The Qinganbate mining area, with its copper, gold and silver, sulfur, coal, and lead-zinc mines... The fief¡¯s handcraft industry, gunpowder workshops, bronze workshops... The future industrial center of the fief should be established here, providing an unending force for the Kingdom¡¯s conquest!"


    Xiulote lifted his head, gazing into the distant sky, his plans as broad as the heavens themselves. Eagles would soar through time, and the plains of the East, the hills of the South, the mountains of the West, and the Great Lake of the North, would all eventually fall under the King¡¯s purview!

 Chapter 548 - 268: Distant Future: Industrial Technology Planning, Divine Revelation Book!

    The night was deep, and the distant mountains, like beasts lying in wait, disappeared under the pitch-black canopy of the sky. The moonlight was dim, and nearby, the mine shafts resembled roads of no return, leading into the dark depths of the earth. The era of myths lingered in people¡¯s hearts, making every natural scene brim with an unknown divinity.


    Beneath the night moon, the mountainous region of Qinganbate was steeped in depth, with only a flickering bonfire in the main mining area. Loyal samurai patrolled through the night, gripping their weapons in solemn vigilance, safeguarding the Monarch¡¯s safety. At the heart of the samurai¡¯s tight security lay the mining area¡¯s only simple stone hut. From a distance, one could faintly see the light of fire flickering within.


    The bonfire blazed, the old charcoal giving off blue smoke, while the newly made coke was bland and tasteless. The Head Warrior held his breath as if feigning sleep, guarding by the King¡¯s side. Inside the hut, there was silence, save for the scratching of a pen on paper.


    Xiulote knelt in the hut, writing on the paper with a fine feather pen. After a while, he stopped his pen, looked at the burning fire, and smiled contentedly.


    "This charcoal is of good quality, with few impurities and strong flames. It¡¯s a pity to use it just for firewood."


    Bertade opened his eyes and saw His Highness¡¯s heartfelt smile, so he also smiled and asked,


    "Your Highness, have you finished writing the ¡¯Industrial Technology Planning Book¡¯ you mentioned?" S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes! The general framework is right here."


    Xiulote smiled and nodded. During his days in the mining region, he had been contemplating subsequent plans. Many old memories were growing faint, needing careful writing to recollect and calculate. He took this opportunity to outline his thoughts on industrial technological development on paper as a long-term blueprint for the Kingdom¡¯s construction.


    "Bertade, come over and take a look!"


    The King waved, and the Head Warrior knelt closer, leaning in to listen.


    "The eagle¡¯s gaze extends for miles, and the roots of the Divine Tree grow for a thousand years. All major events must start from the beginning to soar to the height of eagles, to support the stability of the Divine Tree!"


    "Bertade, you are my most trusted confidant, having followed me for many years. Only you can roughly understand this plan, and it will help you in your future tasks. I¡¯ve mentioned before my intention to have you take charge on your own..."


    "You are to go to the distant Eastern Great Lake, take control of the long island in the lake, and establish a foothold there... The island will be rich in minerals, and they will be easy to mine in the open. It is a gift from the Chief Divine to our Mexica people, also a crucial point for guarding the realm... The tasks you need to undertake will be numerous and difficult, with the danger to your life at all times!"


    "Your Highness, even if the journey is fraught with peril and spans thousands of miles, I am willing to give my life for you! I will certainly stop... capture... kill!..."


    Bertade¡¯s expression turned solemn, and he nodded earnestly. His Highness¡¯s Prophecy, though comprised of only a few sentences, had always stayed in his heart.


    "Good! Bertade, don¡¯t worry. The previous few batches of foreigners were merely a few hundred people. They came thousands of miles by ship, without a foundation or stronghold, and are not yet a concern..."


    Xiulote smiled with satisfaction, patted the Head Warrior¡¯s shoulder, and gave detailed instructions.


    "...Your most important future task is to first consolidate the various factions on the island, second to prepare for terrible epidemics, third to build gun emplacements, and fourth is to smelt iron and steel!"


    Bertade memorized every word, then asked with confusion,


    "Smelt iron and steel? I recall Mayan merchants brought you iron, but what exactly is steel?"


    "From iron ore, iron can be smelted, and steel is created through the proper treatment of iron! Steel is exceptionally hard, suitable for the finest weapons, and the toughest armor. More importantly, steel is the gateway to industrialization! And high furnace coke for iron smelting is the most important first step beneath that gateway!..."


    Xiulote spoke while extending his hand toward the wide scroll spread out on the table.


    The scroll had boxes with terms delineating different technological fields, separated by columns, and annotations mixing numbers, letters, equations, and text below the terms. Arrows pointed unidirectionally between the technical terms, indicating prerequisite technologies.


    Bertade looked at the first column, where "Fuel" caught his eye. After "Fuel" came an odd "C," followed by "Wood," "Coal," "Petroleum," three baffling names. Under these names were small arrows, descriptions of different fuel states, possible discovery locations, and some inscrutable symbolic notations.


    He looked past those difficult terms, straight to the locations. After coal was marked Qinganbate, small quantity; two thousand li north, vast quantity. Petroleum had notes: north-northeast, two to three thousand li.


    Seeing these oracle-like descriptions, awe once again flickered in the eyes of the Head Warrior.


    "Your Highness, is this?"


    "These are all materials for burning! Fuel is the cornerstone of technology, as well as the food and blood of industry."


    Xiulote chuckled. He didn¡¯t ask whether Bertade had understood, but instead began to explain in detail, while carefully organizing the connections in his mind.


    "With a kiln, we can turn wood into charcoal, and coal into coke. Coke removes sulfur impurities and has a higher heat value, more suitable for smelting metals. During the coal coking process, a large number of by-products can be made, which is the most basic coal chemical industry... And in processing petroleum, many more valuable products can be obtained, called the petrochemical industry. Unfortunately, I probably won¡¯t see that in my lifetime..."


    Xiulote moved his finger, pausing over "Coke Smelting," recalling the scent he had smelled during the day.

 Chapter 549 - 268 Distant Future: Industrial Technology Planning, Divine Revelation Book!_2

    "The process of coke formation releases ammonia gas, which can be used to make important fertilizers, but it requires acid for absorption,"


    The Head Warrior looked toward the corner at the "acid" section, where below were written "hydrochloric acid," "sulfuric acid," and "nitric acid." He recognized each word, but together, they were entirely confusing.


    "The easiest acid to obtain is sulfuric acid. If you find sulfates, like green vitriol or gall vitriol, just use ceramic pots for dry distillation. If you can¡¯t find those, you can also use the lead chamber process. We already have sulfur and saltpetre, the combustion of the two produces a mixture of gases, which, through a corrosion-resistant lead chamber, oxidizes to form sulfuric acid... Well, that should roughly be the principle. There are also lead-zinc ores here, making lead quite easy to produce. If you don¡¯t care about purity and efficiency, you could try making some with primitive methods..."


    Xiulote was lost in thought for a moment before he once again pointed to the word "fertilizer."


    Bertade carefully observed and saw behind the fertilizer was "N, P, K," a group of mysterious symbols. Then further noted "guano," located at "the end of the Lerma River flowing into the Western Great Lake, two thousand miles north along the coast, on the dry islands of seabirds."


    "By introducing ammonia gas into sulfuric acid, ammonium sulfate fertilizer can be obtained, effectively increasing the yield of the fields. This is the easiest nitrogen fertilizer to manufacture artificially. And ammonium nitrate, while also a fertilizer, is an extremely powerful explosive... Of course, given the difficulty of producing nitric acid, during my lifetime..."


    Xiulote shook his head, glanced at the "explosives" column next to him. At the top naturally was "black gunpowder," followed by "nitroglycerin," and then "TNT." The latter two names were marked with question marks, the manufacturing processes unknown, but there was a small note: "The Divine has said, the more nitro groups, the greater the difficulty, the stronger the power!"


    The King gave a faint smile and continued with the main topic.


    "Bertade, look here,"


    Upon hearing this, the Head Warrior looked and saw in the most conspicuous place in the middle, a column labeled "Metallurgy," followed by "Bronze smelting," "Iron smelting," "Steel smelting," interspersed with mysterious symbols like "Cu,Sn,Fe,C."


    "Fief¡¯s metallurgy starts with bronze since the Alliance possesses both copper and tin ores. However, bronze inherently has flaws in ductility and both mining and smelting costs are higher,"


    Xiulote paused for a moment, his finger lingering on "Iron smelting." The Head Warrior continued looking beyond, seeing locations tagged as "Colima, Southwestern Mountains," "Cuba, in the Eastern Lake, at the eastern end of the serpent-shaped Long Island," "North America, thousands of miles northward," suddenly realizing the implications.


    "Copper mining operations will expand significantly. The Capital City¡¯s bronze smelting will also use coke, and the Kingdom¡¯s bronze production will soon vastly increase. Once bronze smelting develops, next will be iron smelting,"


    "What can truly become widespread and completely change the world are iron tools! With coke, building blast furnaces, and blowing in air, it¡¯s possible to reach the high temperatures needed to melt iron; the technology prerequisites for mass-producing iron are already mature. It¡¯s just that iron ore is hard to find in this world. I have always been trying to find sources of iron ore,"


    Xiulote sighed deeply. Colima¡¯s iron ore is deep, North America¡¯s iron ore is far. Cuban iron ore requires navigation. Among them, Cuban iron ore is an open-pit rich mine, its location can be definitively confirmed, taking advantage of its mining..." Thinking this, the King patted the Head Warrior¡¯s shoulder, before continuing.


    "The iron produced is divided into raw and mature, corresponding to the high and low carbon content¡­ Carbon is¡­ well, the life force contained in the iron, it¡¯s a bit like bronze containing tin, high content makes it brittle, low content makes it soft. However, what¡¯s special is that if the carbon content is just right, it will be both hard and tough, known as steel!"


    Xiulote¡¯s finger slid down from "Steel smelting," below which were "forging steel," "casting steel," "frying steel," "pig iron refining steel," each marked with different terms like carburizing, decarbonizing. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Coke blast furnaces melting iron ore will produce pig iron. If pig iron is refined again, controlling the temperature and oxygen well, steel is directly obtained, called pig iron refining steel... Of course, this method, while seeming the simplest, is actually very difficult; there¡¯s no hope for decades,"


    Xiulote smiled helplessly, his thoughts flying back from the distant industrial future, back to the present start from scratch.


    "Forging steel is carburizing mature iron, a complex and effort-consuming process, also called ¡¯hundred forging into steel.¡¯ Casting steel is putting pig iron and mature iron together, first melting the pig iron, infiltrating it into the mature iron, then blending and hammering it together. Frying steel is during blast furnace smelting of pig iron, as molten iron flows out, it is continuously stirred in the air while being heated for decarbonization, directly becoming steel."


    "Actually, directly frying steel is still too difficult. Well, it might be better to fry pig iron into mature iron, then use either forging steel or casting steel method, time-consuming but a stable way to obtain steel!"


    Thinking of this, Xiulote¡¯s eyes reflected a visionary look. Although these processes were only roughly sketched out, so long as continuous human and material resources were invested in experimentation, they would step by step, solidly march towards success.


    "The greatest advantage of a transmigrator lies not in the specific technical level, but in pointing out the correct direction in the vast darkness!"


    The King whispered softly, his confidence surging within his chest.


    Bertade respectfully bowed his head, looking at the "Metallurgy" below. There, the words "metalworking" were written, followed by an incomprehensible row of single characters: "turning, milling, planing, grinding, boring, drilling, wire." These characters had no explanations, just added a "hydraulic forging hammer."


    "Your Highness, what do these mean?"

 Chapter 550 - 268 Distant Future: Industrial Technology Planning, Divine Revelation Book!_3

    Xiulote¡¯s face stalled. He only had a vague memory of that mnemonic verse, and as for the specific metalworking machinery, it was naturally impossible for him to remember. The King simply pointed at the end and explained.


    "Set up water wheels by the riverside, then connect them to forge hammers, and they can be used to forge metal armor plates or rough Armor casts. In addition, water mortars can process grains. Oh, right, there are also windmill gristmills..."


    Xiulote added "windmill" under the "simple machinery" section next to him, which already had many jumping terms including "weaving loom," "spinning machine," "cotton gin," "semaphore tower"... Of course, in the King¡¯s mind, these machines were just nouns, with only a general idea of their functions. There was one exception... "steam engine"!


    Xiulote¡¯s gaze lingered on the "steam engine" for a long time. Arrows led from both "metallurgy" and "metalworking" to it, silently telling of the technology¡¯s prerequisite challenges. However, the term "steam engine," as if possessed of a unique magic power, continuously captivated his thoughts.


    "The dawn of the industrial revolution, the steam engine..."


    Xiulote murmured to himself, struggling to recall the nearly forgotten textbooks. Those once-crystal-clear illustrations were now reduced to abstract and vague shapes.


    "Cylinder, piston, valve timing, cold water condensation, the transmission of power via the rods..."


    Vague shapes with clear principles transformed and combined in the King¡¯s mind, but unfortunately, they couldn¡¯t assemble the "complex" Watt steam engine. After a long while, Xiulote sighed softly. He picked up the pen and sketched a simple "Miner¡¯s Friend"¡ªSafri¡¯s steam water pump.


    "Although you could use bronze for cylinder and have vulcanized rubber for seals... but until metallurgy and metalworking technologies are sufficiently advanced, a practical and affordable steam engine is just wishful thinking, still a hope for a lifetime!"


    Soon, Xiulote came to terms with reality, chuckling at himself. It was worth mentioning that for a transmigrator sealing a steam engine, the invaluable vulcanized rubber was readily available to him in America.


    Rubber originated in America and had been widely used worldwide. The primitive vulcanized rubber was invented in the ancient Olmec period, and the Olmecs were thus called the Rubber People. They combined the boiled sap of rubber trees with the juice of American grapevines to produce the most primitive vulcanization of rubber and made it into waterproof rain gear. Such garments held unique religious significance; often worn for ceremonial ball games and accompanied by sacrificial rites for the losers.


    Xiulote shook his head gently, writing down "vulcanized rubber" under the "Unclassified" section at the bottom. Vulcanized rubber could also be obtained by fumigating with sulfur. It was temperature resistant, waterproof, and not prone to stickiness or deformation, with high resistance to oxidation and wear, suitable for making many practical tools, such as important tires, convenient rubber shoes, and raincoats.


    In this section, there was also "glassmaking." The Stonemason Chief Losano¡¯s research into glass had been going on for two years with almost no progress. Now, with coke and blast furnaces, the difficulty of melting glass could be greatly reduced.


    "Glass beads are the cheapest of monopoly trade goods..."


    Xiulote smiled faintly. The broad scroll was nearing its end. Bertade looked down at the bottom, where there was one last section labeled "Future." Inside, it was filled with complex terms like "electricity," "telegraph," "internal combustion engine"...


    "Your Highness, what are these?"


    The King hesitated for a fleeting moment, then spoke gravely.


    "These are the Chief Divine¡¯s ultimate guidance, and the future after my death."


    At these words, Bertade fell silent for a moment. His eyes sparkled, and it took a while before he spoke softly.


    "Your Highness, this scroll is so important, it should have a more fitting name."


    "Oh?"


    Xiulote was intrigued, a twinkle in his eye. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What name?"


    "Divine Revelation Book!"

 Chapter 551 - 269 Decision

    The morning sun began to glow faintly, revealing itself from the distant East, illuminating the bright and winding path ahead. Soon, dense cooking smoke rose before my eyes, and the mining area once again filled with the clamor of human voices.


    Xiulote stood on high ground, watching the busy mining area below, much like observing sprouting seedlings from the soil, imagining the appearance of a towering tree. After a long time, the king heaved a deep sigh.


    Even though he possessed a vision that spanned eras, capable of drafting a technological tree of Divine Revelation and proposing grand blueprints for planning one hundred, or even two hundred years ahead. But at this moment, he still had to return to the reality that was bereft of scientific theory and lacked professional talent, starting from scratch with next to nothing.


    The progress of technology required various foundational elements. Education required a decade to cultivate talent for each generation; technology needed decades of continuous accumulation of experience; society needed a century¡¯s development to foster the soil for new revolutions. All these required a lengthy passage of time.


    Xiulote¡¯s expression remained calm as he once again glanced at the fiery morning sun before dispatching his trusted aide to summon Ezpan.


    With the discovery of coal, the importance of the Qinganbate mining area had once again increased. For the present, coal could replace wood for burning, and coke could replace charcoal in metallurgy, thereby further freeing up manpower and increasing metallurgical efficiency. Moreover, the extraction of coal was far easier than that of copper ore, which warranted the immediate allocation of workforce.


    Considering these factors, Xiulote decided to expand the numbers of miners and Samurai once again, to establish a mining town here, and to add bronze and gunpowder workshops. Qinganbate would serve as the Kingdom¡¯s first industrial zone, targeted for focused planning and development. In such a prospect, as the responsible person for the region, Necali, though loyal and diligent, still seemed somewhat lacking in experience, coming from an elite Scout background,


    during these days of crude coking, Ezpan had been directly involved in production, performing rather well. He had mining experience, a deep understanding of the mining industry, agile thoughts, and a very flexible stance on mythological beliefs... In the heart of the king, this looked like a more suitable candidate.


    As Xiulote was pondering, Ezpan, with a bright smile, approached briskly. He was still dressed as a Mexica legion commander, wearing the Chief God¡¯s Amulet of the Sun Hummingbird on his chest, and knelt respectfully four or five meters away to pay homage.


    "Exalted Highness, your loyal Guard pays respects to the incarnation of the sun! The dawn is like your glory!"


    Xiulote showed a faint smile on his face, but his heart was quite relieved. He waved his hand, signaling the loyal Guard to rise.


    "Ezpan, you have been very efficient assisting me with coke production these past two days... Is there any reward you desire?"


    "Your Highness, these past days, I have been filled with the joy of serving the divine spirits! To be able to dedicate myself to you is the greatest reward!"


    Ezpan bowed his head again in respect. He had now risen to hereditary Nobility and also held the role of commanding ten thousand men as the Tarasco Legion Commander. With both status and power, wealth and beauties naturally did not elude him. At this moment, before His Highness, indeed, there wasn¡¯t much for him to ask for.


    "Hmm. Ezpan, what do you think of this mining area?"


    "The mining area?"


    Ezpan was slightly startled, as troubled memories of his youth surged in his heart. However, he quickly composed himself, observing His Highness¡¯s demeanor, and considered his response carefully.


    "Guided by the Divine Revelation given by Your Highness, the mining area is blessed by the spirits. Naturally, it will contribute to the Kingdom¡¯s prosperity with an unending stream of strength!"


    "Very good!"


    Xiulote nodded with a smile and then spoke in an offhanded manner.


    "Ezpan, you have spent many years in the mining area and are very familiar with it. I value this place highly and am preparing to expand the mining area... Would you like to take charge of it all?"


    The calm words exploded like thunder in Ezpan¡¯s heart. In an instant, he was struck with great alarm and fell to his knees, raising his left hand with only four fingers, as he earnestly swore an oath to the divine spirits.


    "Your Highness! As witnessed by the Chief Divine, my loyalty to you has long since infused into my blood! I am willing to wield weapons and spill my last drop of blood for you; I am ready to hold a shield and defend your majesty with my life... Your Highness, I have no second thoughts!"


    Xiulote was expressionless, with a torrent of thoughts rushing through his mind.


    Although Ezpan originated from a miner¡¯s background, he seemed to have a great aversion to this place. Miners were always seen as the lowest social stratum, while Samurai were the backbone of society. No matter how much the king valued it, in people¡¯s hearts, the overall leader of the mining area was not considered a prestigious noble position, whereas the powerful legion commander was an enviable social apex. Ezpan was now the legion commander of a Fief, as well as a leading example of those from Prepetcha who had sworn allegiance early. If he were moved from the legion to manage the industrial and mining area, it would seem no different from a demotion in the eyes of many.


    What¡¯s more important is that the industrial zone determines the Kingdom¡¯s future! On such a wild foundation, to develop the industrial and mining sectors, the overall leader must be willing and wholeheartedly invested. He needed to possess the strongest, most proactive execution power! Xiulote could not entrust this position to someone who did not value the industrial zone.


    "This could be the industrial minister for the Empire¡¯s future..."


    The king shook his head inwardly, silently watching Ezpan for a moment before speaking with a smile. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well then... Ezpan, I am well aware of your loyalty. I am at ease with the legion in your hands! You have followed me for many years, and it¡¯s about time you settled down. In the Holy City, there remain unwed Mexica noblewomen; I¡¯ve already made inquiries. Prepare yourself, and before the year ends, you will take one of them as your lawful wife..."


    At these words, Ezpan felt a sense of relief. But soon after, the king¡¯s casual words came again, sending him into a cold sweat, trembling from head to toe.

 Chapter 552 - 269 Decision_2

    "Ezpan, you know my ambition... As a loyal Legion Commander of the Alliance, accepting bribes is permissible, but do not get too close to the former nobility of Tarasco... Your future is destined for great purposes!"


    "Ah, Your Highness! I... I will go back now, return the nobility¡¯s wealth, and dismiss the beauties from the south..."


    "Very good! You need to have this understanding, but do not take action."


    Xiulote watched for a moment and commanded in a faint tone.


    Since taking control of the Lake Capital City, the former nobility of Tarasco had shown their most pliable posture, making efforts to forge ties with the upper echelons of the Kingdom and seeking opportunities for integration into the ruling class. Among them, the southern nobility, who retained their lands and wealth, were the most generous and proactive.


    As a Surrendered General from Tarasco, and commanding a heavy troop, Ezpan naturally became a prime target for the southern nobility¡¯s active courtship. Luxurious clothes, precious gems, spices, and beauties, they spared no effort to cater to his tastes. All of this was observed by the Kingdom¡¯s intelligence officers, and some secretive information came from purposefully guided confessions by priests.


    Though Ezpan had shown no signs of disloyalty, the King still felt the need to offer a slight admonition. This was a form of immediate reprimand and also long-term care, and an intelligent person, with just a little contemplation, could understand the implication.


    The King gave a mild smile. He stepped forward, grasped the other¡¯s hair, and his tone became slightly gentler.


    "Ezpan, my loyal guard, you are a smart man, keep a watchful eye on the surrendered generals under you! As for the old nobility of the south... do not startle the snake."


    "Your Highness, I will follow your command!"


    "You may leave!"


    Under the calm gaze of the King, Ezpan walked backwards for several steps before turning to leave. The sun had risen to the middle of the sky, his body drenched in sweat, but his heart felt like a heavy stone had been lifted.


    "The newborn sun has risen to the middle of the sky, its light ever more brilliant, yet burning intensely!"


    Ezpan looked up at the sky, heaved a sigh, then continued with his head bowed, going back to the busy coke refining site. The second batch of coke was being urgently refined.


    The golden October passed in harvest, and the tranquil November arrived in sunshine. The tribute of the autumn harvest had just been collected, usually starting to be transported in mid-November. This year¡¯s harvest was good, allowing the Kingdom¡¯s farmers to finally take a breather. They enjoyed the hard-won peace, the safety free from wars, and the satisfaction brought by plentiful food.


    In the leisurely times, religious ceremonies became the most important solace. Prayers and chants echoed continuously around the Lake Region, and the faith in the Chief Divine began to take root.


    In the Qinganbate mining area, the flag of the Black Wolf still flew high. The samurai, craftsmen, miners, and food supplies supported by the Capital City had arrived, and the expansion of the mining area immediately began. A full two thousand elite members of the personal army were stationed in the main copper mining area, including five hundred clad in bronze medium armor, capable of suppressing any uprisings of fewer than ten thousand people. A large number of scouts were also deployed, monitoring the movements of troops within fifty miles.


    There was a minor incident as well. At the edge of the copper mining area, scattered scout teams captured several snooping Tlapanec traders.


    Usually, foreign traders caught in such a place, with unknown origins, would be treated as spies and executed on the spot. However, the leading trader shouted loudly, claiming he had seen His Majesty! After some discussion, the scouts spared his life for the moment and escorted him to the center of the mining area to see the exalted King.


    "You say you¡¯ve seen me?"


    Xiulote looked expressionless, observing the pale-faced, slightly plump trader. He faintly felt the man looked familiar but could not remember him at once.


    "Ah, yes, Your Highness... no, Your Majesty!"


    The plump trader, looking nervous and sweaty, glanced fearfully at the guard Ezpan beside him, raised his left hand with only three fingers remaining, and responded carefully.


    "Over half a year ago, in the eastern Ihuatzio City... I reported to you about the Mexica reinforcements!"


    "Hmm?"


    Xiulote then recalled. He glanced at Ezpan, who nodded affirmatively. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, this trader is quite cunning..."


    "Hmm."


    Xiulote looked expressionless, coldly watching the trader on the ground.


    "The Kingdom has already issued an order, banning Tlapanec traders. Your presence here, who assigned you?"


    As the King spoke, Ezpan drew out his obsidian short dagger and forcefully pinned the trader to the ground, then grabbed his right hand.


    "Ah, ah! Your Majesty, I was not assigned by any power... ah, don¡¯t cut, don¡¯t cut! I confess! The Kingdom banned copper mining trade, I came to the mining area to see if I could get some copper ore through old channels to sell to the west!"


    "Hmm?"


    Xiulote waved his hand, and Ezpan stopped his actions. The sharp edge of the obsidian blade was already pressing on the trader¡¯s little finger, a faint line of blood seeping out from the tip, accompanied by the trader¡¯s terrified low moans.


    "The west? You mean the Colima Mountain Region?"


    "Yes, yes, Your Majesty! The Colima tribes are close to the Tlapanec tribes, and there are often trade interactions between the tribes... I once sailed in a small boat to the western side of the Colima Mountain Region..."


    "Hmm?...Colima...a small boat?"


    Xiulote asked with a touch of emotion, authoritatively.


    "Trader, have you sailed on the western Great Lake?"


    "Yes, Your Majesty... I set out from Xiwatelan, traveling along the lakeshore toward the northwest. After passing the mouth of the Balsas River, continue for another three to four hundred miles, and there lies the Colima Mountain Region."

 Chapter 553 - 269 Decision_3

    "Balsas Rivermouth, three to four hundred li by sea route..."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression changed. Zicao County in the south was by the Balsas River, and about two hundred li southward was the rivermouth. This route was unexpectedly suitable! It was more convenient and easier than the southwest mountain road, and it spared the need to pacify Chapala compared to the northwest waterway... The King slowly nodded, his decision sealing the merchant¡¯s fate.


    "Merchant, what is your name?"


    "Ah, Your Majesty, my Mexica name is Telali, ¡¯earth¡¯s soil¡¯... I hail from the Tlapanec tribe of Xiwatelan, my father is the chieftain of a village on the plains, and I am the second son of my family..."


    Hearing the King inquire, Telali breathed a sigh of relief, a dead man¡¯s name is of no concern. He confessed everything earnestly.


    "Telali, I offer you a chance to serve the great Alliance, the sacred Royal Family."


    The King spoke indifferently. Telali¡¯s eyes suddenly shone. The Tarasco Kingdom had perished, and the old backers had dramatically fallen. A merchant couldn¡¯t exist without powerful backers, and serving the King of the Alliance directly was a dream for an ordinary merchant like him. His only worry was being utterly consumed... No, in the current situation, he had already been caught in the maws of a fierce beast.


    "Ah, Your Majesty! Witnessed by the Chief Divine, I am willing to serve you unto death!"


    Telali called out forcefully, even squeezing out tears in his eyes.


    Xiulote remained unmoved. The merchant¡¯s vows meant nothing; only interests and threats could truly be controlled. He looked towards the Scout Captain escorting the merchant.


    "What about his companions?"


    The Scout Captain paused, bowing respectfully as he replied.


    "Your Highness, they have all been sent to the Divine Kingdom, as is customary."


    "Hm, then return his and his companions¡¯ belongings to him."


    "By your command, Your Highness!"


    Xiulote turned to Telali. Hearing the Scout Captain¡¯s words, the merchant showed no sadness on his face, instead, a hint of joy peeked through, just as he had previously done in Ihuatzio City.


    "Hm, very well, this one is a born guide. Colima, Tlapanec... there might even be unexpected gains."


    Xiulote pondered calmly, then commanded in a deep voice.


    "Telali, I will return all your belongings to you, and even add a hundred jin of bronze material!"


    "Ah, this, thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty! I will surely serve you..."


    Telali¡¯s eyes flickered, hastily prostrating in gratitude.


    "I have an order for yo u!"


    The King cut off the merchant¡¯s words, his voice carrying an undeniable authority.


    "You are to take the water route to the west, to the Colima Mountain Region, and trade with the local Noble Chiefs. I will send a few Mexica Samurai to accompany you! Regarding the waterway markers and tribal conditions along the route, you must not conceal anything!"


    "Ah, Your Majesty, this, this..."


    Telali¡¯s face showed fear. This kind of reconnaissance mission, if caught by any power, meant certain death. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "If you complete this task, you will be able to establish yourself in the Alliance, become one of the merchants sanctioned by the Royal Family, able to legally trade some of the Alliance-controlled goods. Even, in the near future, with the support of the Alliance, you might have the chance to return to your hometown and become a titled Noble Chief with real authority!"


    Telali¡¯s heartbeat sped up instantly. Then, the cold, commanding voice came from above once more.


    "If you cannot complete this task... even if you flee to the ends of the earth, the Alliance¡¯s Scout Team will deliver you to the place you ought to go!"


    "Ah, Your Majesty! I am willing to serve you unto death!"


    Xiulote nodded, the other finally making the expected choice. He left his final words and then turned and left.


    "Ezpan, the rest is up to you!"


    "I follow your will, my supreme Sun!"


    Ezpan bowed respectfully, keeping his head low until the King disappeared from sight. Only then did he raise his head, looking towards Telali, who wore an expression of fear. The pace of the eras marched relentlessly forward; everyone had to make choices, including himself.

 Chapter 554 - 270: Alliance Priesthood, The Separation of the Priest’s Divine Authority!

    The Black Wolf¡¯s Royal Banner fluttered in the mountain passes, with messengers heading out to the mining areas to report. Wherever the King set foot, the simple Main Copper Mine seemed to transform into a temporary palace, continuously gathering the commanding power of the fief.


    Xiulote was in high spirits, lingering in the mining camp. He supervised the expansion of the mining area, choosing suitable locations for workshop towns, while guiding the improvements in the coke smelting process.


    "Very good, the second batch of coke smelting has a coking rate of forty-five percent. It seems that the preliminary treatment of coal is of paramount importance."


    In front of several new kilns, Xiulote inspected the latest production results. Upon receiving the new data, his face revealed a purely sincere smile, like that of a young, devoted craftsman. However, the King soon regained his authority, issuing decrees to the trusted aides crowding around him.


    "The new workshop town should be situated by the river, centrally located amidst various mining sites¡­ yes, right here!"


    Xiulote¡¯s finger pressed decisively onto a wooden map, affirming his words.


    "From here to the Lake Capital City is ninety li, including thirty li of mountain roads. This thirty-li stretch must have an easy dirt path for pushing small, single-wheel carts¡­ yes, we can lay down the coal slag from mined-out areas to prevent the growth of grass and weeds!"


    "Your Highness, what shall we call this town?"


    Faced with such a question, the King looked around. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, plumes of black smoke rose from between the mountains, and thousands of miners carried ore as they walked. Observing this somber tableau, a thought struck him.


    "Hmm, let¡¯s name it Blackstone City!"


    Following that, Xiulote¡¯s expression grew serious as he turned to look at the mining area¡¯s management personnel. Under the current circumstances, the heavy responsibility of the industrial district could only be entrusted to this military-to-civilian officer.


    "Necali, I entrust the mining area to you! I will allocate an additional two thousand surrendered troops and four hundred Samurai to your command. The surrendered troops will mine coal in the mountains, while the Samurai will garrison strategic fortifications. This way, you will have a full thousand-Samurai regiment under your command, managing five thousand miners!"


    Overjoyed, Necali prostrated in gratitude. His Highness had only been here for a month, and he had been promoted twice, bypassing many years of struggle, with a bright future now readily within reach.


    "Your Highness, I will definitely manage the mining area well, making the miners as docile as turkeys, bowing their heads and ears!"


    Xiulote held Necali¡¯s hair, pondered for a while, and then gave detailed instructions.


    "While focusing on production, also establish a promotion system among the miners. Reward mining leaders who are close to the Alliance and work hard! Consider absorbing miners as Militia and promoting surrendered soldiers as officers. Moreover, arrange for undercover informants among the miners and surrendered troops, communicate thoroughly with the Priests, and make sure to keep them under control!¡­"


    Then, the King laid his hand on Necali¡¯s shoulder, speaking earnestly.


    "Necali, as for yourself, you must take the time and effort to study diligently, to grasp the production in the industrial-mining area, and to become an insider here as soon as possible!¡­ As I¡¯ve said before, your responsibilities are heavy, and your future is bright. Do not disappoint me!"


    "Your Highness, the wings will follow the eagle¡¯s will. I will heed all your commands!"


    Necali answered loudly, prostrating once again. The King then slowly nodded in approval.


    In the following days, Xiulote revised the plans, once again increasing the number of villages designated to support the industrial-mining zone and sent trusted aides specifically to oversee the transfer of food here. With the construction of the new blast furnaces completed, a portion of the miners began to mine coal.


    Several small coal mines were established. Mining coal was much easier than copper, and collapses were an issue only in deeper areas. Soon, Necali reported a satisfying figure: the coal mines¡¯ output was more than two hundred catties per miner per day. Since it did not require smelting, the proportion of mining laborers was about fifty percent of the coal mine¡¯s workers. With effective management, a thousand workers could maintain a production of at least ten thousand catties per day.


    At this time in the Celestial Empire, the production of deep coal pits in Shanxi was only over three hundred catties per day. And the improvement in large-scale mining technology would have to wait until the modern industrial revolution. Then, rock mining could employ explosives, iron tracks and coal cars to improve efficiency, and water pumps and ventilators in place of human labor in the mines, transforming the old coal pits into modern coal mines.


    Upon hearing Necali¡¯s report, Xiulote smiled. Harvesting the same caloric value of timber would require far more labor than coal mining. In places with coal, an Empire¡¯s future industrial centers could be established! The King, bubbling with enthusiasm, continued to participate in refining the third batch of coke until a Messenger from the Capital City arrived hurriedly.


    "Your Highness, the Priesthood from the Alliance has already arrived at the Qinchongcan Capital! Accompanying them are the craftsmen from the Lake Capital City, as well as the families of the Mexica samurai."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote was invigorated. The support from the Alliance had finally arrived!


    The banner of Black Wolf moved once again. Escorted by two thousand samurai, the King¡¯s formidable presence was felt as he returned to the capital a hundred miles to the northeast. A few days later, the grand blue stone walls of the capital city came into the King¡¯s view, and outside the city gates waited the welcoming officials of the kingdom, the legion commanders, and the newly arrived Alliance Priests!


    Xiulote scanned the crowd at the city gates, pondering slightly. Even though everyone had changed into Mexica attire, there were still three distinct groups that could be identified.


    In accordance with their rank, the Priesthood from the Alliance stood at the front. A large number of Chief God Priests wore Feather Crowns and Ceremonial Dress, and leading them were two Fourth Level High Priests.


    The kingdom¡¯s legion commanders stood in the middle. With weapons and shields in hand and dressed in vibrant war clothes, they subtly divided into Mexica officers and Prepetcha officers, and they also kept their distance according to their noble or commoner origins. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Last were the numerable kingdom officials. Most were newly submitted Prepetcha who had surrendered; their demeanor was restrained, their heads slightly bowed. Only Jatili, dressed in the Chief Minister¡¯s regal garments, stood steadfastly at the forefront.


    Xiulote took a moment to muse. These three groups represented the power distribution within the Fiefdom, as well as the political structure of the land.


    There was no need to mention the legion commanders. They held the kingdom¡¯s military power and were close to the line of the loyal Marshal King, having been through countless battles. Soon, with the progress of reforms, the kingdom¡¯s troops would also divide into three parts: the tens of thousands of Militia stationed in villages and towns, the tens of thousands of surrendered troops being transformed through agricultural reforms, and the over ten thousand samurai assigned to the land.


    The surrendered Army and the samurai would be reorganized respectively into ordinary standing forces and elite mobile forces to participate in constant external conflicts. Having inherited and maintained a large number of legions from the Tarasco Kingdom, the kingdom¡¯s military-civilian ratio was completely unbalanced. Constant expansionary warfare was both inevitable and the only choice!


    The Chief God Priests held the greatest religious power and also participated in the kingdom¡¯s administration. They regulated the astronomical calendar, performed prayer ceremonies, dispatched priests to implement Alliance doctrines, and managed community affairs in towns and villages. Among the populace, regular confessions were being promoted, with priests of different ranks saving the souls of nobility and commoners alike. There were also military priests within the legions to soothe the minds of samurai and Militia.


    As the supreme leader of the Fiefdom¡¯s theocracy, Xiulote knew well the depth of this class¡¯s influence. The priests¡¯ foothold in the hearts of the people was linked to the kingdom¡¯s stability, and their rapidly expanding power was inseparable from his long-term support and personally planned reforms.


    In dealing with this powerful clerical class, Xiulote had already laid the groundwork by dividing the priests into different branches. Each branch was relatively independent and prohibited from interbranch promotions. Divine authority centralized power at the hub, controlled by the highest Divine King himself, while maintaining separation within the priesthood.


    Among the priests, one branch was responsible for astronomy, doctrine, and ceremonies¡ª the Scripture Priests. They held a revered status, did not engage in politics, and were akin to the Grand Historian in the Western Zhou bureaucratic system.


    Another branch took charge of mythological epics and the recording of significant historical events¡ªthe History Priest. They were tasked with narrating the "truth" of history to the masses, integrating different cultural elements, uniting the hearts of various ethnic groups, comparable to the Grand Historian in the Western Zhou bureaucratic system.


    Another branch centered around the Capital City, participating in central administration and managing community affairs in villages and towns, spreading faith, and holding confessions¡ªthe Preaching Priests. They were involved in governance, impacting far-flung areas and tribes, and represented the true bureaucratic face of theocracy, akin to the Ministry Officials in the Western Zhou bureaucratic system. Among them, the Village Priests were the governing tentacles of the kingdom¡¯s core in the localities, symbols of royal and divine authority stationed in distant lands.


    Another branch comprised the War Priests who were directly subordinate to the Royal Family, wielding weapons, and entering the grassroots of the military. They were responsible for comforting and controlling the military spirit and symbolized the extension of royal and divine authority within the army. They also presided over large-scale sacrificial rites before and after wars, guiding spirits in funerals, and boosting the legion¡¯s morale.


    The last branch belonged to the Divine Revelation Place, overseeing practical technological inventions and basic scientific research¡ªthe Divine Revelation Priests. They primarily came from young priests trained in schools and were supplemented by experienced craftsmen and older workers. Xiulote planned to settle down and write two popular science textbooks using semi-mythical language, detailing basic natural laws. Then, these textbooks would be distributed to schools and Divine Revelation Places, gradually cultivating seeds of new thought.


    Inspired by the mature bureaucratic system of the Celestial Empire, Xiulote relied on the current era to diversify the priesthood into relatively independent Scripture Priests, History Priests, Preaching Priests, War Priests, and Divine Revelation Priests, while leaving room for future reforms. These five branches of the priesthood would each assume part of the government¡¯s functions, controlling all aspects of the nation, building a centralised and powerful theocratic state!


    Reflecting upon this, the King¡¯s gaze shifted towards the last group of kingdom officials. Among these Prepetcha elites were the Village Elders who held cultural heritage, the Trinitarian Divine Priests who recently converted to the Chief Divine, the Chieftains who actually governed villages, the leaders responsible for forestry and fisheries, the nobles¡¯ sons handling trade and statistics, as well as the prominent Masters in various crafts industries¡ªthe kingdom¡¯s ruling body¡¯s most populous core.


    In Xiulote¡¯s plan, these elites came from different groups, participating in all aspects of the kingdom as organizers and producers. They were akin to the Officials and Village Elders in traditional Celestial Empire society. The bureaucratic system of theocracy would be open to them, incorporating the most outstanding part, just like how Jatili, serving as Chief Minister and also appointed as the Fourth Level High Priest overseeing the History Priest, demonstrated.


    "Establishing a bureaucratic system of theocracy is a pressing need of reality, but it¡¯s also essential to incorporate different sources of ¡¯sand¡¯, to establish different branches and factions. There must always be room left for future reformers..."


    With an indifferent smile, the political system of the kingdom passed through the King¡¯s mind, a plan contemplated over countless days and nights, fully considering the realities of the era.


    Afterward, he nodded slightly and walked majestically down the already decided path. Ahead, the two High Priests from the Alliance Priesthood had long been waiting with bowed bodies. He also saw a face he hadn¡¯t seen in a long time, self-satisfied and "innocently" smiling.

 Chapter 555 - 271: Two Chief Priests

    "Praise the Chief Divine, He is the supreme and the only!... Praise the King, He is the Divine Tree of the Alliance!... Praise Your Highness, He is the Winged Divine Eagle!..."


    Bright sunlight bathed the land, and the vast breeze swept through the city. Led by the two Chief Priests, hundreds of ruling elites of the kingdom all bowed deeply before His Highness in salutation.


    In the legal principles of the Alliance, the supreme deities awarded the world to the King of the Alliance, the Great Tlatoani Aweit. Aweit then bestowed the land amidst the lake to the Tlatoani of this place, Xiulote. Chief Divine, King, Your Highness, that was also the order of prayer and praise. No matter how they were addressed in private, it was necessary to follow the tradition of the Alliance on such formal occasions.


    "Chief Priest Ugus, greetings to you! It has been quite some time since we last met."


    "Your Highness, greetings to you, and cheers for your illustrious martial prowess!"


    Dressed in his ornate feather crown and robes, Ugus chuckled, nodding his head and clenching his fist in greeting.


    "Over the past year, tales of Your Highness¡¯s valiant fights spread continuously throughout the Lake Capital City. The Priests say that Your Highness is the reincarnation of the martial Black Wolf, guardian of the supreme sun! The Samurai also believe that you are a true Divine Descendant, adept at war, a Marshal who achieves the greatest military exploits with the least casualties!..."


    Hearing the familiar phrase "guardian of the sun," Xiulote¡¯s expression shifted. Recalling his grandfather¡¯s smile, he nodded. Then, looking toward the charming Ugus, he pondered in his heart.


    "Ugus seems much more composed than two years ago..."


    "Haha, Your Highness, the ignorant citizens of the Capital City worship you, saying you have a voice like thunder, eyes that emit Divine Light, and a mighty stature that could shatter a tree with a single blow... But it¡¯s only I who remembers seeing you for the first time, with a face as refined as the tiger-striped wild iris... Hmm? Now, your demeanor is serene, your face like cold jade, with an overflowing elegance, still as beautiful as a flower, but now more like the stately dahlia!"


    Ugus widened his eyes and looked over His Highness, clapping his hands in genuine admiration.


    Xiulote¡¯s smile faltered, and he nodded slightly, deciding to retract his earlier assessment.


    "It seems there¡¯s no change... But, as a Chief Priest of the Alliance, this is also quite good."


    Then, the King turned toward the other Chief Priest, with a much more sincere smile.


    "Chief Priest Mawilo, greetings to you! I have always kept the teachings you gave me in my youth in my heart."


    "Your Highness, greetings to you! From a young age, you were naturally gifted with Divine Revelation, wisdom beyond your years. The Elder Priests of the Holy City regarded you as a blessing from the deities, the hope of the Alliance! Seeing you today, our expectations at that time were perhaps a bit modest."


    Mawilo, in his fifties, dressed impeccably, with a lean face and extremely sharp eyes, now smiled warmly, earnestly bowing his head in a gesture reserved for divine beings.


    "The gaze of the Chief Divine watches over the Alliance, and the deities of the City of the Gods have never left. They have merely concealed themselves, leaving their Divinity to flow in their descendants, just as Your Highness¡¯s Divine Revelation!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s face showed realization; these were probably his grandfather¡¯s words.


    Mawilo was a Chief Priest born into the Priesthood of the Holy City, who had taught Xiulote priestly knowledge since childhood, and whose ancestors were part of the honored Nobility of the Lake Capital City. His coming here with Ugus, the Priest of the city lines, clearly represented a kind of considered balance. Compared with Ugus, he was obviously closer and more trustworthy.


    After exchanging formalities, Xiulote then asked with a smile.


    "Chief Priests, how was your journey here?"


    "The Lerma River flows westward, while water birds rest on the banks, and the red hawks glide through the mountains and forests. Traveling southward on this road is like a painting penned by the prince of flowers, with life and wilderness filling the land!"


    Ugus exclaimed in admiration. He then turned to look back at the magnificent Qinchongcan City, praising it from the bottom of his heart.


    "The Earth Mother Goddess gathers Divine Power, Qinchongcan City is encircled by high walls, and the House of Wind lies coiled like sleeping Mountains, truly spectacular! Compared to the Lake Capital City, though this place is less populated and less flourishing, it is still a place where one could stay for a long duration. The states we passed, such as Akanbaro, were far less impressive. Although Prince Tepopolo tried hard to make us stay, as soon as the weather cleared, I could not bear to stay a day longer..."


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s gaze flickered. He looked toward Mawilo.


    "Is the High Priest in good health? I waited for the Priesthood for quite some time before setting out on an inspection tour in October before the autumn harvest. It seems you¡¯ve had quite the hardships on your travels." S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes. Your Highness, the High Priest is in good health. Upon hearing Your Highness¡¯s good news, he even drank with us on several occasions... The Priesthood originally planned to arrive before the autumn harvest, but the families of the Northern Army Samurai were journeying with us. Their gathering took time, and the journey was quite slow..."


    "Excellent! The Mexica Samurai have been looking forward to it, waiting for a long time! How was the journey for the families? Have they all entered the city now?"


    "There are nearly ten thousand family members of the Legion, and the food supply along the way was plentiful, with Samurai guards. The first half have all entered the city to rest. The other half are still in Huayamo Fortress up north and will take a few days to arrive."


    Mawilo nodded, answering meticulously. He had always been in charge of the miscellaneous affairs accompanying the army, while Ugus had leisurely enjoyed the scenery, admired the landscapes, and appreciated the beauty of the women.


    "Your Highness, we traveled west along the Lerma River and encountered torrential rains during the rainy season, causing us to stay in the western city-states for half a month. The homebound legions from the western city-states were very enthusiastic and full of praise for Your Highness... Afterward, we landed on the southern bank of the Lerma River, encountered heavy rains again in Akanbaro State. Prince Tepopolo was very hospitable, and the priesthood stayed there for several days before continuing southward,"


    "The legions from the western city-states..."


    Xiulote smiled, for these legions had once served in the Northern Army. Although the campaign to the west had ended, the influence of the Commander-in-Chief remained in people¡¯s hearts, awaiting the day it would come into play. After pondering for a while, he directly asked,


    "Hmm, did Prince Tepopolo say anything?"


    "Prince Tepopolo mentioned the dispute over the territories on the North Coast of the Lerma River with the Otomi people. He sought the support of the Alliance, expressed his goodwill towards the priesthood, and was also concerned about the war situation between the eastern king and the Tlaxcala people. It¡¯s likely he will contact the king as well," Mawilo recounted everything candidly. Xiulote observed Ugus beside him, catching the changes in his expression. The Chief Priest, not yet thirty, was leaning to the side, seemingly still admiring the grandeur of Qinchongcan City. It was only after a moment that he turned his head back and offered the king a "simple" smile.


    "Your Highness, the House of Wind of the Prepetcha people had been passed down for a thousand years, primitive and magnificent, famous throughout the world! The Sacred Fire in front of the temple is filled with divinity, also a spectacular sight... To be able to drink the Holy Water in such an ancient temple and communicate with the noble deities is the lifelong wish of every priest! Please provide me with the support in manpower and resources to rebuild the Chief Divine¡¯s Temple atop the pyramid..." Ugus laughed heartily, with a somewhat unruly and carefree attitude.


    "Your Highness, life is short, and the Chief Divine promises us joy! The tediousness of worldly matters is far less interesting than Holy Water, Divine Smoke, fine clothes, and beautiful women... I¡¯ve heard that the lake beauties of Prepetcha are very intriguing, with the agility of fish, skilled in underwater pleasures... Ah, the deities have blessed me with a curious spirit for exploration, so please do not blame me, Your Highness..."


    "Building a temple and taking charge of it... not interfering with the affairs of the kingdom... asking for luxurious pleasures and women, while also proactively handing over the handle of indulgences..."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression turned serious, his gaze fixed intently on the old acquaintance before him, a faint sense of unfamiliarity arising. After a long pause, he responded with a gentle smile,


    "May the Chief Divine bless us! Chief Priest Ugus, constructing a temple is indeed what should be done. The planting season is over, and I will assign people to start preparations. However, the Great Temple in Lake Capital City took decades of careful construction, and the Temple of Qinchongcan City is already founded on the Akatla Pyramids; the rest needs only to be built slowly..."


    Constructing temples is time-consuming and labor-intensive, and Xiulote was not prepared to undertake massive building projects until the fief¡¯s resources were plentiful. For now, minor repairs on Akatla would suffice, just completing the construction of the main shrine.


    "As for exploring the mysteries of pleasure, it is naturally the grace promised by the Chief Divine! If it weren¡¯t for the busyness of state affairs, I too would like to join the Chief Priest in appreciating the Holy Water and the Divine Smoke... Hm, Ugus, the Land of the Lake in the east also has the Royal Family¡¯s mountain hot springs, a mere ten days¡¯ journey back and forth. You may take the women there..."


    Xiulote patted Ugus on the shoulder with a smile, and the latter also bowed his head with a laugh, expressing gratitude.


    "Thank you for the King¡¯s gracious gift!"


    Mawilo had been quietly waiting until the two finished speaking before he spoke up again.


    "Your Highness, the latest news from ten days ago indicates a breakthrough in the eastern war situation! During the autumn harvest in October, the Tlaxcala legions were unstable, with the conscripted militia clamoring to return home. The king then mobilized a large army, assembling thirty thousand samurai and thirty thousand militia, to besiege the besieged fortresses on the east of Xochipeople State.


    The Alliance built more than a dozen trebuchets for the bombardment, dispatched three thousand Longbow Warriors for strong shots, and launched hundreds of exploding Divine Fires, ultimately recapturing the border fortresses! More than two thousand Tlaxcala samurai died in battle, and the number of captured enemy militia also ran into the thousands. The Tlaxcala¡¯s main legions tried to rescue at one point, confronting the Royal Legion of the Alliance by a tributary of the Tarsas River upstream, but in the end, no decisive battle erupted.


    After the fall of the fortresses, the Tlaxcala people retreated to the east, sending envoys to sue for peace. After two years of campaigning, even with continuous victories, the Alliance¡¯s treasury was depleted, and the samurai suffered significant losses and were very weary. The king thus accepted the Tlaxcala¡¯s agreement, led the legions back to the Capital City, and dismissed the conscripted militia.


    May the Chief Divine bless the Alliance! This vast and prolonged war finally ended with our victory!..."


    "May the Chief Divine bless us, the Alliance invincible in battle!"


    Xiulote prayed aloud, invigorated. Both Chief Priests then echoed in a chanting tone,


    "Praise be to You, the highest Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! He who holds lightning in His hands, standing atop the holy Snake Mountain, with a voice like thunder, proclaims His will: ¡¯Faithful Mexica, serve Me, and I shall bestow upon you the leadership of ten thousand, promising you the whole world!...¡¯"


    The prayer of praise rose high, the priests behind joining in the chant, their devout voices echoing in the sky and resounding in everyone¡¯s hearts, causing Jatili to also bow his head. After a while, Xiulote ceased the prayer and asked in a deep voice,


    "Now that the coronation war has ended, the sacrifice of gratitude to the Chief Divine will soon begin. When is the Great Sacrifice to the Chief Divine scheduled?"


    "Next January, combined with the New Year¡¯s Grand Sacrifice."


    A smile appeared on Mawilo¡¯s serious face.


    "At that time, it will be an unprecedented Great Sacrifice!"

 Chapter 556 - 272: Priest University, Majestic Lake Light

    December¡¯s long winds came from the north, bringing the chill from the highlands. The fields far and wide had already been harvested, leaving only large swathes of half-cut corn stalks and the weeds that finally sprouted in the fields. The majestic Qinchongcan City also emerged from its solemn silence and began to bustle and clamor.


    The New Year was approaching, and prayer rituals were held continuously throughout the city, with the scent of burning pine resin wafting between neighborhoods. Merchants brought celebratory goods from all around¡ªspices from the forests, agricultural produce from the fields, wild goods from the mountains, fish and shellfish from the lake, and various practical handicrafts.


    The most popular among these were the curtains depicting the mythology of the Chief Divine. Following tradition, the Mexica nobility hung these divine curtains from the tops of their houses. Beneath these curtains, they hung two bunches of fresh flowers in homage to the gods and burned incense at scheduled times each day for prayer. The Prepetcha nobility imitated them, filled both with awe of the Supreme Chief Divine and submission to the Divine Church King.


    As the Priesthood from the Alliance came from the west, Xiulote suddenly had an abundance of literate talents. He urgently needed to assign these culturally adept priests. The King then gathered the Priesthood within the Palace of Wind, reviewed the several hundred priests who had come from the west, and discussed carefully with Mawilo who led them. Ugus had already taken up temporary residence in the Temple at the House of Wind. True to the agreement, he did not intervene in the management of the priests.


    Xiulote, holding the Divine Staff, sat on his high throne. He looked at the group of young people in Feather Crown Ceremonial Dress and then caught sight of another familiar, weathered face. The King smiled and nodded; the other party bowed respectfully and cautiously. Then the King turned his gaze to Mawilo in front of him.


    "Supreme High Priest Mawilo, the priest delegation supported by the Alliance is much younger than I anticipated..."


    "Yes, Your Highness. At least 60% of the priests sent to the Lake Capital City district are junior priests fresh from priest school for just two years, not even past their early twenties. Moreover, over 90% of them are of commoner background... All the young commoner priests from the Capital City are here."


    Mawilo nodded solemnly and then smiled slightly.


    "Your Highness, in the two years of religious reform, many commoner children were admitted into priest schools, and many commoner priests emerged prominently. Gradually, there arose some dissatisfaction and disputes among the upper and lower ranks... The establishment of new districts was a significant matter, and the Elder Priests discussed for a long time who should be transferred. Travelling thousands of miles to the unfamiliar towns and villages of Prepetcha¡¯s Lake Capital City to oversee the religious affairs of the new districts is neither stable nor easy..."


    "So, the final decision of the discussion was to prioritize sending young, junior, commonly-born priests?"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, not quite displeased. Young commoner priests were more energetic and easier to control, making them suitable grassroot managers. They had high potential for molding, merely requiring time to develop. In fact, such a choice was beneficial for both parties. The King thought for a moment and then asked in a low voice.


    "Religious reform... within the Priesthood... commoner and noble priests, Holy City and Capital City priests... what is the current situation?"


    Mawilo¡¯s expression turned serious. He withheld nothing, replying in an equally low voice.


    "With the further implementation of religious reform, the powers of various levels within the Priesthood are expanding. To vie for important positions, there has been some accumulation of dissatisfaction among the factions... But as long as the elders live another day, as long as the High Priest can still manage affairs, as long as the external expansion continues... the Divine Church Priesthood remains a united and strong entity, standing firm like the Chief Divine¡¯s Snake Mountain!"


    Xiulote nodded. He thought for a moment, then instructed Mawilo.


    "Supreme High Priest Mawilo, you are my trusted and loyal elder, and only you can bear the most critical positions within the Priesthood! I plan to divide the priestly duties of the fief into different departments...


    The High Priest of Scriptures is responsible for astronomy, religious law, and rituals, holding the highest status, which I plan to entrust to Supreme High Priest Ugus... The Director of History speaks of history, integrates various parts, requires the influence among the people of Prepetcha, which I have already entrusted to Supreme High Priest Jatili... The Director of Preaching engages in central administration, overseeing national faith dissemination and local community management. This position is the most important, bearing the heaviest responsibility... I intend to entrust it to you!"


    At this, Mawilo was invigorated. Over these days, he had already gained a preliminary understanding of the ecclesiastical authority in the fief. The Director of Preaching held the most significant administrative authority, essentially being the head of all departments! Without hesitation, he knelt on one knee, devoutly chanting.


    "The light of the Chief Divine bathes the earth, and the sky of blood bears the Divine Eagle soaring!... Your Highness, you carry the Divinity left by the Sun God on earth; I am willing to die for you!"


    "Very good! I entrust you with the lower levels of the Palace of Wind as the administrative center for the Preaching Priests!"


    Xiulote solemnly nodded, reached out to touch Mawilo¡¯s hair, and then helped him stand with both hands. As for the remaining War Priests and Divine Revelation Priests, he would temporarily lead and command them personally, selecting assistants to help manage. The conversation between the two became even more cordial, the King continued to ask.


    "Mawilo, have the new priests completed their studies of scripture and religious laws?"NN


    "After two years of study, all priests can proficiently master the fundamental scriptures from the Book of Ama Colley, recite important chapters, write simplified pseudonyms, and understand basic arithmetic. They all qualify as village priests. About 30% can proficiently use proper and pseudonyms for documentation, understanding simple arithmetic calculations. These priests can take on more important town management roles, responsible for tax collection and business records..."


    "Very good! Then dispatch them to various military and civilian settlements, filling the gaps in the governance roots of the Kingdom. It¡¯s necessary to supplement the central hub of the Kingdom with a batch of middle to low-level clerks... How well have they learned the Prepetcha language?"


    Xiulote nodded in satisfaction, the Alliance Priests were able to fill the gaps of low-level officials and enhance the propagation of faith among the Prepetcha people.


    "After training, they were able to speak some simple Prepetcha and conduct everyday conversations. After staying in the Land of the Lake for a while, their language skills improved naturally."


    "Hmm, I will arrange manpower to train them on their monthly days off... you see, who is more suitable to be sent to the northern highland to spread the faith among the Canine Descendants?"


    "The highland is harsh, we need to choose those with the best health..."


    The two discussed the missionary matters of the Fief and surrounding areas, and identified the leader of the missionaries going to the northern Canine Descendants. Their conversation gradually ceased.


    The King shifted his gaze and gestured to the Priests standing quietly not far away. An old acquaintance cautiously approached and knelt down to salute.


    "Respected Supreme High Priest, the exalted King Priest of Tlacopan, Bravo salutes you! Your radiance is like the sunshine after rain, breathing life into the earth and bringing warmth to all people!"


    "Very good, Bravo. Long time no see, and you have been doing well these past two years, with a rapid promotion," said Xiulote, looking at the other¡¯s new Third Level Priest attire, expressing a touch of emotion with a smile. When he first met Bravo, he was just an ordinary village priest. Now, just two years later, he had broken through the ceiling of common priesthood and ascended as a central pillar of Third Level High Priest.


    "Your Highness, I am but a humble corn stalk. I always remember that it is the High Priest who provides me with dew, but it is you who provide me with sunlight!"


    Bravo bowed his head in praise. Before coming to the Land of the Lake, he had just been promoted to Third Level High Priest by the High Priest. The stagnation of his early life and these soaring two years made him realize the source of his fortunes.


    Xiulote touched the other¡¯s hair. He had a favorable impression of this middle-aged Priest. Bravo was down-to-earth, good at learning, and adept at communication. The King pondered for a moment and then made a decision.


    "Bravo, I heard from the commander of the Divine Blessing Legion, Natali, that you did very well in Xilotepec City. The Otomi Warriors are very fond of you... I plan to establish an advanced Priest school, the Calmecac, in the Capital City, located in a former manor of a Tarasco Prince. The school will be responsible for teaching common priest knowledge, battle formations, literature and poetry, herbs and plants, mineral smelting, mathematical calculations... and some mythology and natural laws that I have personally compiled and summarized."


    "I will personally serve as the headmaster of this advanced school, providing guidance on the outline. However, the specific teaching affairs need a practical vice-principal... Bravo, would you like to be the vice-principal of Calmecac?"


    "Ah! Your Highness, I am willing to give my all for you, to expend my last drop of blood to spread the light of the Chief Divine!"


    Bravo was overjoyed. He immediately prostrated himself again, deeply bowing in acceptance of the command. Such a managerial position in a high school represented an accumulation of influence and also embodied a bright and promising future.


    "Very well!"


    Xiulote smiled. He chose such a versatile commoner Priest to manage the school, with many comprehensive considerations.


    Unlike the Calmecac in the Capital City, this new Priest school in Qinchongcan would follow the will of the King, teach many innovative subjects, and nurture seeds of science. Some knowledge and ideas would inevitably conflict with traditional beliefs, so there was no need for a traditional Priest with legacy to manage it.


    Similarly, the King valued talent and only promoted the worthy. As the Kingdom expanded, the talents cultivated by the school would gradually fill bureaucratic positions with more cultural and professional skills. The school¡¯s manager would gradually amass prestige and wield greater influence. To balance power, there was no need here for a profoundly respected High Priest.


    In a moment, a myriad of thoughts flashed through his mind. The King smiled gently and carefully advised,


    "Bravo, the school will be open to most citizens of the Fief, selecting excellent students from age-appropriate youths. You must focus on guiding the thoughts of the Prepetcha students... maintaining balance between commoner and nobility offspring... treating students from all backgrounds equally, maintaining their unity... and you yourself must also diligently learn new knowledge and continually progress!"


    Bravo nodded repeatedly, memorizing each word of the King. Only after the King finished speaking did he cautiously raise his head to ask. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, what should the newly established Calmecac in the Capital City be named?"


    Xiulote fell silent. Countless memories flashed through his mind, and after a while, he smiled with profound meaning.


    "On the shores of the Great Lake, spreading the faith of the Chief Divine, seeking the truths of the world, also exploring the broader things of the Great Lake... Let¡¯s call it the Majestic University, the Majestic Lake Light!"

 Chapter 557 - 273: Father’s Long Journey, Meetings and Partings

    The bright moon rose high from the East, as the red sun gently set in the west. With the moonrise and sunset, the sky was half crisp and cool, and half filled with rosy clouds. The transitions of darkness and light between dawn and dusk in the mountains lingered in the heart, leaving behind enchanting scenery. Such moments, akin to life¡¯s journey, kept revolving in a cycle of repeated encounters and farewells.


    Xiulote, dressed lightly and simply, stood on the boundary between the plains and the hills, gazing towards the wild fields of the north. Behind him were the sturdy walls of Huayamo Fortress and the boundless farmlands replete with harvests. Since setting out at the start of December, more than ten days had passed. He had traveled from the East to the North, inspecting farms along the way and checking on the military settlements in the Lake Region, until finally he paused here, waiting for his father coming from the south.


    As the daylight gradually faded, a row of torches appeared to the north. The torches undulated between the hills and the open fields, resembling stars slowly drifting closer. At last, familiar silhouettes became faintly visible beneath the stars, and Xiulote could no longer contain his excitement, striding forward to meet them.


    The leading figure revealed a broad smile and stretched out his arms to give the young man a tight embrace.


    "Father, you must have had a hard journey!"


    "Haha, Xiulote, my son. You seem to have grown taller in the more than half a year we haven¡¯t seen each other!"


    Xiuxoke released his son and looked him over carefully, measuring Xiulote against his own height, which seemed to mirror his own, and laughed heartily.


    "Olosh, look at him, straight and tall as a pine, noble in appearance as a golden eagle, almost exactly as I was in my youth!"


    "Come on, you were rough and stout in your youth, resembling a cactus more than anything, certainly not this handsome... Those delicate features, eyebrows, and eyes, however, do resemble his mother..."


    Olosh teased Xiuxoke with a smile. He then stepped forward and affectionately patted Xiulote on the shoulder.


    "Teacher Olosh!"


    Xiulote, brimming with happiness, also gave Olosh a hug.


    "How was the journey here?"


    "The settlements are doing quite well, with harvested fields all over the Lake Region. Didn¡¯t come across any thieves on the road, the farmers all stayed honestly in their villages, filled with a peaceful joy... Deers are feeding in the fields after the harvest. I hunted one with a javelin yesterday, I¡¯ll roast a deer leg for you, so you can taste my cooking skills!..."


    "Ah, roasted deer leg, my favorite! Good, add a bit more chili powder and herb leaves..."


    At this moment, all the majesty and stratagems of royalty disappeared. In the rare warmth, he could finally relax, shedding his armor to once again become a carefree youth. Although this time would not last long, like the moon¡¯s rise and fall, vanishing in the glory of the starlit night like the fleeting life of an epiphyllum, these memories would preserve a rare softness and warmth in his heart, which was gradually becoming harder and colder.


    So the group chatted merrily as they made their way to Huayamo Fortress. The evening banquet was already prepared, the food abundant, and the atmosphere relaxed. It wasn¡¯t until everyone drank a cup of steaming cocoa, with the scent of herbs lingering at their noses, that Xiuxoke took a satisfied breath and spoke seriously.


    "Xiulote, everything is in constant change and reiteration. After the Jaguar grows, it becomes the king of the jungle. It occupies the forest alone and faces all challenges..."


    "Father?... You¡¯re returning to the Holy City?"


    Hearing his father¡¯s words, Xiulote paused. He looked into his father¡¯s profound eyes, tasting the unspoken reluctance within, and a vague premonition began to form.


    "Yes, I¡¯ll be leaving soon... My son, you¡¯ve become a brave Samurai, an outstanding Commander-in-Chief, and are becoming a great King... You¡¯re surrounded by many people, and you have their allegiance... I¡¯m reassured."


    Xiuxoke smiled, squeezing the young king¡¯s hand. He then sincerely nodded in acknowledgment to Bertade.


    "Thank you for your protection!"


    "That is my duty."


    Bertade replied with a calm face and a nod.


    Xiuxoke smiled without further words, continuing to look warmly at Xiulote.


    "The war in the East has ended. The King has commanded me to set out as soon as possible to return for the sacrificial rites in mid-January..."


    "I too have received the report and was about to dispatch an Envoy with this year¡¯s tribute."


    Xiulote nodded. Since he was unable to go personally, he planned to have Eagle Warrior Balda lead the envoy group, presenting the newest bronze helmets, bronze short swords, exquisite copperware, and some precious collections from the former Royal Family.


    "Your grandfather has already sent word in advance."


    Xiuxoke reached out, gently touching his son¡¯s cheek.


    "After the Sacrificial Rite, I will join the fully reconstituted Alliance Royal Army, and become Vice Legion Commander of the Eagle Warrior Battalion... from then on stationed long-term in the Lake Capital City, serving beside the King." S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ah! Vice Legion Commander of the Eagle Warrior Battalion, serving beside the King?"


    Xiulote looked surprised. After a moment¡¯s thought, he gestured emphatically with his hand. The warriors around them drew back. The flames in the great hall flickered briefly before stabilizing again, highlighting the four people remaining in the center.


    "Father, the Eagle Warrior Battalion is the most esteemed battle group of the Sun God¡¯s Divine Guards, comprising mostly the sons of the Capital City¡¯s Nobility. Only a King of great renown can effectively command them... Are you the only one from the Great Nobility being reassigned?"


    "King Aweit certainly regards you highly. But his ambitions are vast, and they don¡¯t simply focus on our lineage."


    Xiuxoke said, smiling calmly, having anticipated these events. Once he entered the Capital City, treatment should be favorable, but leaving would be challenging. As for Xiulote, who had been granted a vast expanse of the Lake Region, he would be overseeing the western tribes, away from the core of the Alliance. His presence, as the direct heir, would serve as a kind of assurance.

 Chapter 558 - 273: The Long Road of a Father, Meetings and Farewells_2

    ""The King¡¯s western conquest to annihilate nations and eastern campaign against his arch-enemy has yielded remarkable prestige, with his fame sung throughout the land. With prestige and military achievements, he can inherit the great Montezuma¡¯s unfinished endeavors... The Eagle Warrior Battalion is soon to be expanded, and the elite and hereditary nobility from each core city-state are being stringently required to send important members to join."


    Xiulote fell silent for a moment before slowly nodding. When the Monarch¡¯s authority was sufficient, he could summon the nobility of all ranks and the honored progeny to form a guard around him, thereby strengthening his control over every faction. Such measures were often accompanied by corresponding measures of centralization... Thinking of this, the young King spoke in a grave voice.


    "Father, does the King intend to integrate the Alliance, centralizing military power? If you go to the Capital City, what will happen to the Holy City of Teotihuacan?"


    "Hmm. According to your grandfather¡¯s message, the Priesthood and the Royal Family will send representatives to stay within two hundred li of each core state around the Capital City. The central core of the Alliance will further reduce the private forces of the Great Nobility in the Texcoco Lake District and take control of some military power of the city-states, as well as important financial rights."


    Xiuxoke laughed heartily.


    "As a condition for your being granted lands in the lake, I will take the initiative to hand over control of the Holy City back to the central core of the Alliance. And the Fiefs of Tepopolo and Iskali, which were granted to me, will also be surrendered... This measure is also supported by the elders and the High Priesthood and is key for further reforms. Your grandfather says that now is the perfect time!"


    Xiulote looked at his father¡¯s smile, his heart filled with myriad emotions, which were expressed only through a soft nod.


    After the western campaign, the King¡¯s prestige reached its zenith, establishing authority in the hearts of the Samurai. The military forces of the states had suffered greatly, and the transfer of the powerful Great Nobility outwards presented an opportunity for further centralization!


    The powers of the Alliance were roughly divided into three parts: the monarch¡¯s power, the clan¡¯s power, and the divine power. The current direction of reforms was the combination of monarch¡¯s power with divine power, suppressing the scattered clan power of the city-states, and establishing a strong and sacred Royal Family central authority. Herein, the elders oversaw the big picture, the King pushed forward with specifics, the High Priesthood reduced resistance in different regions, and everything progressed according to the plan for centralization.


    "After receiving your grandfather¡¯s message, I thought for a long time and convened with the camp captains of the legion. There have been some changes to the subsequent arrangements."


    Xiuxoke¡¯s expression became solemn. He looked at the calm young King and spoke earnestly.


    "The Holy City Legion lost nearly half of its warriors during the western campaign. Even with the restored wounded, there are now just over two thousand two hundred Samurai. Most of them are the most loyal direct followers of our faction, and I do not wish to treat them unfairly. I am about to transfer to the Capital City, and a hundred will come with me... As for the remaining warriors, I hear you are assigning lands and titles according to military merits..."


    "Excellent! Let them come, I will not treat them unfairly!"


    Xiulote showed a sincere smile. The Kingdom of the Lake had vast territories and significant room for expansion. He was in need of reliable direct line Samurai.


    "Father, how many Holy City warriors are willing to stay here?"


    "One thousand five hundred warriors, among them over fifty are Jaguar Warriors of commoner origin."


    "Good! Grant every Jaguar Warrior of the Holy City lands according to the standards of nobility through military merit, 800 mu each!"


    Xiulote agreed without hesitation. Jaguar Warriors were rare elites anywhere, owning their own land and families. The Holy City Legion still had more than one hundred and fifty Jaguar Warriors left, with only a third choosing to stay.


    "Promote fifty from among the seasoned warriors, totaling one hundred military nobility to be enfeoffed. From the remaining warriors, enfeoff four hundred seasoned warriors, granting each 240 mu; enfeoff one thousand third-level warriors, granting each 100 mu. As for the second-level hereditary nobility, promote all three Warrior Camp Chiefs, granting each 2400 mu!"


    The young King promised generously. This enfeoffment was nearly 300,000 mu of land, and the gap for servitude increased by another 15,000 people. Afterwards, he thought for a moment and looked towards the robust Jaguar Warrior Olosh.


    "Olosh, Teacher, where do you plan to go?"


    "Ah!"


    Olosh was always hearty, yet now he sighed, a rare occurrence.


    "I originally planned to accompany your father. We¡¯ve been old comrades for over twenty years! But your father insisted on persuading me to stay behind... Yet on his own, his martial arts are not that great, and once, someone broke his ribs with a single blow, and he was laid flat for several months..."


    Xiuxoke¡¯s complexion became embarrassed, and he coughed softly.


    "Cough, that was years ago... A formidable general like Tepake, within the fifty or sixty years since the Alliance was established, he was the only one. Besides, my trip to the Capital City this time is probably just to enjoy the good life. Even if I wanted to go into battle or encounter danger, it would be difficult!...


    Olosh, with your martial skills, what¡¯s the use of staying by my side? It would be better to stay with Xiulote. Then, I could also be at ease. Haven¡¯t we already agreed on this?..."


    Olosh sighed again, nodding helplessly.


    "Right... you are correct... as you say!"


    Xiulote lowered his eyes slightly, filled with emotion.


    What is a real father? This is a real father! Handling logistics throughout the western campaign, arranging supply lines, caring for the wounded. Unobtrusive and unassuming, he managed everything perfectly; leading a legion of four thousand into the harshest battles, with half dying in battle. Then persuading the remaining warriors to stay behind and entrusting them to his most trusted Great General; willing to give up his own rights for his son¡¯s nation-building enfeoffment, going to the Capital City of the Lake to assume a sinecure, acting as a hostage... Such treatment is rare even for one¡¯s own children! S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 559 - 273: The Long Road of a Father, Meetings and Farewells_3

    Thinking of this, the King opened his eyes. He first grasped Olosh¡¯s arm, affirming with a promise.


    "Olosh, the fief needs you. You will be the Kingdom¡¯s second honored nobility!"


    Then, Xiulote firmly took hold of his father¡¯s hands and asked sincerely.


    "Father, do you have any other requests? I will listen to you..."


    Hearing this, Xiuxoke¡¯s eyes brightened. He clasped his son¡¯s hands in return, advising earnestly.


    "Xiulote, my son! You are my eldest and possess inherent wisdom, naturally mature... Ahem, you have three half-brothers and one sister. I know you didn¡¯t play with them much since you were little and rarely communicated, not being close. But after all, you are a family!...


    The great Predecessor Monarch Montezuma and the elders were brothers; the elders assisted the Predecessor Monarch for decades and also supported the Predecessor Monarch¡¯s son. Your siblings can also assist you in the future!... Hmm, your youngest brother is only five years old and still needs to be nurtured by his mother at home. I¡¯ll leave the other three to you. As the eldest brother, you can represent me and discipline them freely!..."


    "Ah? Two brothers in their teens and a sister younger than ten, all left to me?"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression froze. After a moment, he looked at his father¡¯s expectant eyes and nodded solemnly.


    "Then leave it to me!..."


    The topic then became lighter. They chatted about family matters and discussed arrangements for the Rivermouth County in the north.


    "The population trade along the Lerma River has been completed. After the Guamal Canine Descendants plundered the Chapala Lake Region, a total of 20,000 young men and women, 10,000 children were traded. Most of them are Prepetcha people, with some Otomi as well. There are 20,000 people from the forest tribes originally longbow militia, all relocated from the Holy City. I¡¯ve arranged these 50,000 people in various civilian settlements in Rivermouth County. There are still about 2,000 families of Holy City samurai... You need at least a hundred more priests..."


    "The Alliance-supported Priesthood has arrived at Qinchongcan City; Prepetcha priests have also trained some. I will fill the northern priest gap as soon as possible."


    Xiulote nodded affirmatively.


    "Father, how many people do you estimate are now in Rivermouth County, and how many are able-bodied?"


    "Based on estimates from various settlements, there are about fifteen thousand people, roughly thirty thousand able-bodied. The north now only has Holy City Legion samurai and Prepetcha militia. There are Otomi and Canine Descendants in the north, remnants of the Tarascan soldiers in the west; it¡¯s best to send another squad of the Legion here for defense. Olosh is familiar with the northern situation, after I leave, he can take charge of Rivermouth County."


    "Good. I will soon revise the deployment of legions across the territories and reallocate their stations."


    Xiulote reflected for a while, then added.


    "The Capital Region is of the utmost importance. I trust Olosh the most, so he will stay in Qinchongcan City, responsible for the military command of the core Lake Region at Patzcuaro. I will hand over Rivermouth County in the north to the Monkey Kuluka, and also have him take half of the Spearmen Legion. Holy City samurai will be enfeoffed on site in the north. As for the south, Zicao County, I have already dispatched the veteran Etalik to operate there, preparing for subsequent actions. He is experienced in dealing with nobility. That way, when I lead the troops southward..."


    Hearing this, Xiuxoke nodded affirmatively.


    "Your thoughts are indeed thorough!... However, my son, you probably need to address the problem in the north first. Before I came, Otapan City had sent an envoy. They said the Chichimeca Canine Descendants from the northeast were preparing to head south in large numbers, hoping you could support a legion to fight together in the north... The old Priest also had a private message, saying there was a matter concerning both tribes that needed discussion. Please make time to go north and meet with him, no matter what," he declared.


    "Canine Descendants heading south, requesting support for a legion? The old Priest has a matter to discuss with me in person?"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and vaguely guessed something.


    "Alright, I will send another envoy to communicate further!"


    The conversation among the four continued throughout the night, planning the future of the kingdom and discussing the situation of the Alliance. From time to time, there were warm greetings. Not until the bright moon sank into the mountains in the west and the sun rose at the peaks in the east did they cease their talk.


    Xiuxoke lay down in his son¡¯s living quarters and soon fell into a peaceful sleep, snoring from exhaustion. Xiulote listened to his father¡¯s snores, quietly staying by his side. He carefully observed his father¡¯s resolute face, memorably imprinting it in his mind. Then, he reached out and gently plucked a prominent white hair. His father turned over, mumbled hazily, and continued to sleep deeply.


    "This journey has truly tired father out... I should leave," he thought.


    Xiulote smiled and shook his head, then silently turned and left the room. Behind him, unbeknownst to when, Xiuxoke turned over again, facing the direction his son had departed. A long while later, a soft sigh echoed in the stone house.


    Parting is an eternal melody, and meeting is but a brief high note. When the sun was slightly setting, Xiuxoke, accompanied by a dozen trusted aides, prepared for the journey back north.


    "... Father, I won¡¯t say much else. Take care of yourself, and be careful on your journey!"


    Xiulote gripped his father¡¯s arm tightly and only after a long moment did he slowly let go. Then, he quietly gave a command to those behind him. The aides behind him then presented a few sets of brand-new bronze medium armor to the aides across from them.


    "Such fine armor!"


    Xiuxoke touched the sturdy bronze plates beneath the cloth, admiring it with a compliment. Then, he handed the armor to his aide with a gentle smile.


    "Son, don¡¯t worry! Father is off to enjoy life in the Capital City; there won¡¯t be much chance for battle anymore... I will speak to your grandfather about your greetings. And your letters, I will deliver them to Princess Alisa. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t peek at them on the way." sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote nodded firmly. He slightly lowered his eyes, concealing the faint moisture in them. Olosh stepped forward and finally sighed.


    "Ah, Xiuxoke. After today¡¯s farewell, who knows when I¡¯ll see you again... I don¡¯t have much to say. Just enjoy your life in the Capital City, sleep with a few more women, and give Xiulote a few more brothers and sisters!"


    "... You too."


    "Haha!"


    "Haha!"


    Xiuxoke laughed heartily, gave the two a strong hug, and then turned and left without looking back. Behind him, the warm sunset slowly descended, and the cool bright moon rose again. The road ahead was long and distant, all fading with time.

 Chapter 560 - 274: The Alliance after the Battle, the Journey Eastward

    Time is a long road, and life is a relentless journey. We always walk through it in a daze, listening to the passage of time, looking at the vast expanse of the years, never knowing when we¡¯ll arrive at the end, and what¡¯s gone never looks back.


    Xiuxoke never looked back. Under the stars and the moon, he traveled day and night with his handful of trusted aides, taking just two days to reach the Lerma River. He climbed a small hill on the river¡¯s edge and looked out. At that moment, another sun was setting, and the rivermouth fortress stood majestic amid the evening glow. The Lerma River flowed mightily to the west, its surface undulating with shimmering waves, like the dazzling ribbons of the Earth Mother Goddess.


    "Truly a boon from the spirits! A great river that connects the east and west of the Alliance!"


    Xiuxoke gazed quietly at the shining Long River, and each day of the past flickered before his eyes. Vaguely, he seemed to hear the hearty laughter from a decade ago, to see the tiny hands carefully holding a baby. Thus, for the first time, he turned his head and gazed deeply toward the south. After a moment, all that remained was a gentle sigh.


    "Flowing all the way from the Capital City to here... What a great river indeed!"


    After a moment of contemplation, Xiuxoke¡¯s samurai determination surged in his heart once more. He opened his mouth, about to call out Olosh¡¯s name, but then he paused. After a few breaths, he ordered his men in a low voice,


    "Send an envoy, pass the message to the fortress. Prepare the boats quickly; we depart for the east first thing tomorrow!"


    The sun set and rose again, and the long night was silent but for the flow of thoughts. The next day, twenty large boats carried six or seven hundred samurai upriver to the east, moving slowly. The journey was indeed long, with hills undulating on both banks and streams converging from the mountains. It wasn¡¯t until vast fields, harvested and exposed, came into view before them that they entered the border of the Alliance¡¯s western city-states.


    Xiuxoke stayed here for two days, feasting with nobles who had been friendly with his clan for generations while exchanging the latest intelligence.


    In the western expedition, the armies of the western city-states had plundered much, so the banquets of these two days were extremely lavish. Incense burned in the great hall, food was laden with spices, and even the mead had rare herbs added. In contrast, the young kings who took part in the hard work themselves and practiced thrift had much more modest nobility in the Lake Capital City¡¯s fief.


    During the night banquet, Xiuxoke ate a piece of roasted venison and drank a sip of mead. He savored it carefully and praised it.


    "Good wine! This wine has rich layers and an endless aftertaste... Apart from fruit, did you also add flowers and herbs when brewing it?"


    "Haha, the Deputy Marshal is not only brave but also has an exceptional discernment!"


    Tepeiter laughed heartily. Sitting in the seat of honor as the night¡¯s host, he was the glorious noble who wielded great power over Tlalocan and the clan leader of the Mountain family. The meaning of his name was "peak." Tepeiter smiled as he stood up, holding his wine cup and approaching, then extended his burly arm and warmly placed it on Xiuxoke¡¯s shoulder.


    "Haha, Deputy Marshal, the Mountain family and the Holy City lineage have been friends for generations, our ties spanning decades! Since we are of the same generation, I will call you ¡¯brother¡¯... Brother, in this western campaign, our western city-states exerted all their force. Even my legitimate son died on the battlefield!"


    "Chief Divine¡¯s blessing! A warrior who dies in battle for the divine will surely ascend to the Divine Kingdom, to eternal happiness and peace!"


    "Yes, the Chief Divine¡¯s blessing! Come, Izel, why aren¡¯t you coming forward to offer your uncle a toast?"


    Tepeiter called out loud, beckoning his illegitimate son like he would a servant.


    A flash crossed Izel¡¯s eyes before fading away. He stepped forward respectfully, smiled, and offered toasts to his father and "uncle." After the three drank, Tepeiter casually waved his son away and continued speaking to Xiuxoke in a lowered voice.


    "Brother, the Holy City lineage has fiefs in the middle of the lake, making many green with envy! What¡¯s even more enviable is that Qinchongcan is a full seven hundred miles from the Lake Capital City! No Royal Decree can reach that far!"


    "Hmm? The latest Royal Decree..." S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiuxoke¡¯s expression shifted, as if in deep thought.


    "Yes, the latest Royal Decree!... The priests collecting tribute from the villages is one thing, for paying more to the Royal Family, we could just spend less. But the Royal Family dispatching officials to meddle with core city-states, dividing village communal fields, and reducing the nobility¡¯s private troops, absorbing the direct warriors... This kind of action disrupts the tradition of autonomy in the Alliance!"


    Tepeiter¡¯s gaze flickered as he watched Xiuxoke¡¯s expression, his voice filled with indignant whispers.


    "The Sun God¡¯s light brings warmth! Only the cold light of the Moon Goddess could bring such a chill... Nobles have fought on battlefields for the Chief Divine, spilling their warm blood. As the war ends victoriously, there are those in the Capital City who blind the King... Brother, now that the Holy City lineage has its fiefs remote, it holds significant actual power as the Prince! With the High Priest in charge internally, all nobles follow willingly. With high hopes, as you make your way to the Capital City, everyone is counting on you to speak just words before the King..."


    "Ah!...


    Xiuxoke¡¯s expression changed. Though not keen on politics, he understood the essence of the King¡¯s reforms and was aware of the sensitive position of the Holy City lineage. He patted Tepeiter on the shoulder and said with calm assurance,


    "Don¡¯t worry! Tepeiter, we have known each other for many years. I will certainly speak well of you before the King!"


    "Haha, good!"


    At those words, a flash of disappointment crossed Tepeiter¡¯s eyes, but in an instant, he was laughing and raising his cup high, exclaiming,


    "Chief Divine¡¯s blessing, let¡¯s not return until we are drunk tonight! Come, let¡¯s drink together again, to honor the respected Deputy Marshal! May the divine spirits bless you with a smooth journey ahead!"

 Chapter 561 - 274: The Alliance after the Battle, the Journey Eastward_2

    "May the spirit grant protection and smooth the path ahead!..."


    The crowd burst into laughter as they gathered to drink, and soon everyone was a bit tipsy. Then, Tepeiter gestured, and a group of graceful girls clad in short clothes, holding fresh flowers, came forward to dance. Their clear singing and wonderful dance scattered petals in front of the flowers; as the night stretched on, it was dawn before anyone realized.


    The next day at noon, Xiuxoke boarded the great boat again, now accompanied by two demure maidservants by his side.


    "Ah! The High Priest was right. The sweeter the wine, the less one should drink! My wine-tasting skills are still lacking, I didn¡¯t notice the herbs hidden within..."


    He glanced at the maidservants, sighed softly, and then strode to the bow, waving farewell to Izel who had come to see him off. The great boat moved on, staying another day near the Holy City. Most of the Holy City¡¯s samurai disembarked here, returning to their long-separated hometowns. The newly acquired maidservants were taken away by their family¡¯s samurai as well.


    As the sun rose in the east, when the great boat sailed into the fertile Texcoco Lake Region, swathes of Chinampa floating farms appeared before him. Tropical warmth still lingered in the winter air, as farmers busied themselves on the Chinampas, occasionally docking small boats laden with manure and river mud to replenish the nutrients of the floating farms. Corn, beans, chili peppers, cocoa, herbs, zucchini, tomatoes... various different crops thrived on the fertile floating farms, telling the tale of a miracle agriculture that could yield up to seven harvests a year.


    Sailing between the floating farms, the air was filled with the fresh scents of grass and flowers. A day later, the magnificent Lake Capital City appeared before Xiuxoke¡¯s eyes.


    He disembarked at a village on the north coast of the Long Bridge, where an envoy of the Royal Family was already waiting for him. Under the envoy¡¯s lead, a party of a hundred headed south along the causeway towards the North City. The pines and cypresses transplanted in previous years had grown lush and dense, reflecting their forked shadows on the lake surface, like the souls of sprites.


    "Like the sprites of the pine trees in the water, Aweit..."


    Xiuxoke mused to himself. Military victories continuously drove the reforms of the Alliance, also centralizing the power of the Royal Family. Compared to two years ago, the Lake Capital City had been deeply marked by the King¡¯s presence.


    The causeway connected north and south, and thousands of people walked on the refurbished road. They praised the supreme Chief Divine, and also lauded the greatness of the King. As the crowd passed through the large market of the North City, the shouting of tens of thousands of people struck like the rains of the rainy season, suddenly overwhelming them with a lively clamor.


    The market now had many new tax officials. Holding pens and paper, and equipped with new wooden abacuses at their waists, a unified system of weights and measures had become common in the market. The distant merchants appeared submissive, bowing their heads to pay their trade duties. The essential regulated materials, such as copperware, war clubs, cotton armor, and bows, were all sold in fixed amounts by officially registered merchants. Each transaction had to be recorded and periodically inspected by the Government.


    Xiuxoke glanced around, noticing many Tarasco-styled artifacts flowing into the marketplace, clearly war trophies from the western armies. He nodded slightly, then followed the envoy through the long canal and into the bustling main city. Though the New Year celebrations had not yet begun, the wild joy of the great victory was already permeating the main city.


    The victory celebrations started ahead of schedule in the community¡¯s Temple, with bountiful war spoils and rewards already distributed. The Priests¡¯ singing echoed between the stone houses on either side, the air fragrant with wafting pine resin. Occasionally, samurai would sing resonant war songs and perform vigorous war dances. The common folk then gathered in a circle, praising the warriors returning from the campaign.


    Xiuxoke saw a young samurai. Dressed in the Third-Level war clothes, having finished his war dance, he entered the crowd and took the hand of a beautiful young woman. Witnessed by the Chief Divine, the young samurai clenched his fist over his chest, boasting of his bravery on the battlefield while declaring his love for the maiden. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Admiration flashed in the maiden¡¯s eyes. She turned to look at a middle-aged man in rich garments not far away; that was her father, the master of her family, who managed her marriage. After a moment of consideration, he slowly nodded, and cheers erupted from the crowd. The samurai was overjoyed, promptly bowed deeply to the middle-aged man, then vigorously grasped the girl¡¯s hand. The two ran out of the crowd and disappeared in an instant.


    Xiuxoke smiled knowingly. He observed the middle-aged man who was now shaking his head and sighing. The man¡¯s clothing was embroidered with a family crest, likely of minor nobility origin. With the victory in the western campaign, the samurai, laden with glory and spoils, had their social status elevated once again. This kind of marriage between an outstanding common samurai and a daughter of the minor nobility was becoming increasingly common.


    Of course, in the Lake Fief of Mikenka, the traditional class hierarchy had been thoroughly dismantled. Centered around the Mexica rulers, a new order was being established, a grander blueprint already outlined.


    The envoy¡¯s pace did not halt, and they quickly reached the northern city¡¯s armory. The Holy City samurai ascended the Temple, first praying to the newly sculpted image of the Chief Divine, then seeking blessings from the now second-ranking Fire God, before dispersing from there. A King¡¯s guard replaced the previous envoy, continuing to lead Xiuxoke towards the core temple and palace area of the main city.


    Despite it being winter, the noble district along the way was still flush with blooming flowers, the air filled with delightful floral scents. At the front of various manors, garlands, jade artifacts, gold and silver, and colorful pottery were displayed... the Great Nobility flaunted their family¡¯s luxury, even including seashells and corals from the seacoast. Military nobles displayed the war trophies from the western campaign, Tarasco Kingdom¡¯s weapons and armor, some even featuring captured noble flags.

 Chapter 562 - 274: The Alliance after the Battle, the Journey Eastward_3

    In the Nnobility district square, poets and musicians from various city-states were reciting poems and playing bamboo flutes. Hearing a familiar name, Xiuxoke paused and listened for a moment, looking bemused.


    "My own son, whom I raised by hand, although a clever and valiant young man, certainly can¡¯t bellow like thunder, have eyes that emit Divine Light, or shatter a great tree with one punch..."


    "The Alliance venerates heroes and values military achievements! The Northern Army had been blessed by the Divine on their western campaign, shining along the way. It¡¯s common for the citizens of the Capital City to deify your Highness."


    The King¡¯s guard turned to Xiuxoke and gave him a faint smile.


    Upon hearing this, Xiuxoke shivered a bit. He, too, smiled back, his manner just as gentle.


    "In the lands around the lake, they also sing of the King¡¯s renown. The Supreme King, the true embodiment of the Sun God on earth..."


    Both men laughed, then fell silent together. With hurried steps, the towering Great Temple came into view.


    The Sacred Fire was burning eternally, the priest¡¯s song resonated magnificently. Hundreds of Temple Warriors looked stern, stationed at the base of the Great Temple, guarding a plethora of noble Sacrifices, and also watching over the surrounding temples. Countless laborers bent at the waist, carrying sealed barrels, from which drips of blue liquid occasionally fell.


    "Is this... the Maya blue dye used for anointing the Sacrifices during rituals...this much?"


    Xiuxoke appeared surprised. He looked towards the King¡¯s guard, who nodded faintly. Instantly, an intense smell of blood seemed to hit, making even the stalwart warrior tremble inside. As everyone knew, only nobles with Holy Blood flowing through their veins could ascend the sacrificial altar of the Great Temple...


    Without a word, the two men continued southward. The expansion of the Great Temple was ongoing, and further south, an exceptionally broad building was under construction, currently at the foundation phase.


    Xiuxoke, familiar with military logistics, estimated that at least three thousand laborers were working on the site. The King¡¯s guard seemed to have anticipated this, and with a smile, he turned and said in a deep voice.


    "This is the new King¡¯s Palace. The first phase of construction will be half the height of the Great Temple, and also half its area..."


    "Ah, what did the elders say..."


    "The elders naturally agreed. During the foundation construction, not only will corn mortar and volcanic ash be used to strengthen it, but also the blood of Tarasco Divine Descendant... The Chief Divine will ascend the Throne of the Gods atop the bones of other divines!"


    "Chief Divine is supreme, praise the Chief Divine!"


    Xiuxoke nodded, praying devoutly. Since the elders had agreed, all else was a minor detail.


    Soon, they arrived at the ornate administrative palace. The King¡¯s guard showed the Jade Talisman to the guards of the Royal Family, and Xiuxoke set down his War Club and Long Dagger. Then, the two walked down the garden path toward the King¡¯s Palace, a legacy of half a century.


    Many nobles and officials were waiting in front of the palace, the area rather noisy. But as they drew closer to the palace, the noise level dropped, and finally, there was a solemn silence as if no one were present.


    Xiuxoke took a deep breath and followed the King¡¯s guard towards the grand entrance. The moment the doors opened, he quickly looked up, then lowered his head and stepped forward. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Supreme King sat expressionless on an increasingly elevated throne. He wore a gemstone-studded royal gown, held the centuries-old Divine Staff in his hand, and his gaze was indifferent and calm, like the embodiment of a deity. In the shadow of the King, a silent Intelligence Officer cast a glance his way.


    "Chief Divine is supreme! Xiuxoke of Teotihuacan, of the glorious nobility, pays respects to the embodiment of the Sun God, the Great Tlatoani of the Alliance, the Supreme King!"


    Xiuxoke steeled himself, bowing deeply. His booming voice echoed in the vast Stone Hall, gradually fading into nothing. The hall returned to silence, and even the dozens of guards stationed there stood solemnly like statues.


    It seemed like half a century passed before a cold voice floated down from above, carrying a chilling sternness.


    "Xiuxoke, I hear you got along quite well with Tepeiter in Tlalocan?"

 Chapter 563 - 275: Throne in the Shadows

    The Stone Hall of politics was somber and solemn, shrouded in overlapping shadows. Only a few slender beams of light seeped through the thick Divine Curtain, outlining shapes of the sun in the cold corners of the floor.


    The King sat enthroned among the shadows, his faint gaze descending from on high like a beast of prey perched on its throne. His voice was distant and icy, as if to freeze the very air, sending chills down one¡¯s spine.


    Xiuxoke took a deep breath, vaguely detecting the scent of blood. His expression remained resolute and composed. As a battle-hardened noble samurai, his fierce willpower would never easily cower. He bowed his head, offering an unashamed answer.


    "Your Majesty, the Yue family has been closely allied with the Royal Family for generations. I received Tlalocan¡¯s warm hospitality during my visit, so it was difficult to decline. At the banquet, we merely spoke of landscapes and customs, drinking until intoxicated. The next morning, I left without even seeing him."


    "Ah, friendships spanning generations."


    Aweit smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying, his voice devoid of any emotion.


    "Xiuxoke, I hear Tepeiter is dissatisfied with the new policies and intends to support the Royal faction to replace me as the king of the Alliance?"


    Upon hearing this, Xiuxoke¡¯s expression turned stern. He hurriedly lifted his head, looking earnestly at Aweit.


    "Tepeiter was just venting momentarily, and would never dare to betray the Alliance. I have already sternly warned him... Black Wolf as the harbinger for the jaguar and leopard, Red Hawk flying high with the eagle. Your Majesty, the Royal faction is unwavering in its loyalty to you, always regarding you as the supreme sun!"


    "Oh, unwavering loyalty."


    Aweit smiled once again. Then, his demeanor abruptly turned grave as he inquired with a deep voice.


    "Xiuxoke, if Tepeiter has intentions of rebelling against the Royal Family and he contacts you, what will you do?!"


    "...Chief Divine be my witness! Your Majesty, I am loyal to you. If Tepeiter dares to betray the Alliance, I am willing to lead the Royal Legion to eradicate my kin in the name of justice and quell him for Your Majesty!"


    Perspiration faintly appeared on Xiuxoke¡¯s forehead. His fists clenched in secret, yet his expression remained composed and firm.


    "Oh, eradicating one¡¯s kin for justice."


    Aweit curled his lips into a smile that was more mocking than amused as he looked at his relative before him.


    "Not bad, Xiuxoke, I believe you."


    The king¡¯s voice finally carried a hint of mirth, yet the words grew ever more chilling.


    "Because, that¡¯s exactly what Tepeiter said."


    As the last word fell, Aweit raised the Divine Staff and gently tapped the throne with its silver end. Symbols of divine and royal authority simultaneously erupted with an intermingling clink.


    "Gillim."


    "Your Majesty."


    "Show it to him."


    "At once."


    Gillim nodded silently, finally stepping out from the shadows of the throne. Unbeknownst to all, he now held a wooden box a foot in height. Approaching silently, the Intelligence Officer solemnly bowed and placed the wooden box before the kneeling Xiuxoke.


    As the Intelligence Officer neared, the faint odor of blood grew stronger. Xiuxoke fixated on the red at the bottom of the box, a strong premonition welling up inside him. He took a deep breath, allowing the taste of rust to invade his lungs, as if standing on a battlefield, and slowly opened the wooden box. Then, with just a glance, his pupils shrank sharply, and his hands trembled violently.


    Inside the wooden box lay the head of Tepeiter, his eyes wide with the resentment of his final moments, his mouth agape as if roaring in protest.


    "Ah, this... this!"


    Seeing the face of a familiar old friend, Xiuxoke¡¯s maintained composure finally shattered! Three days ago, they were still merrily drinking together, intoxicated. But now, just three days later, Tepeiter had arrived in this royal hall before him!


    Overwhelmed with intense emotions, it took several breaths for Xiuxoke to regain the ability to speak. He looked at the king in disbelief, his face a mask of shock.


    "Your Majesty, this, this, who did this?!"


    Aweit¡¯s smile remained neutral, silent. Gillim bowed low, answering solemnly.


    "Naturally, it was you, Deputy Head of the Eagle Warrior Battalion, Lord Xiuxoke."


    "Ah! Me?!..."


    "Yes, indeed you. Tepeiter caused discord within the Royal Family, opposing the king¡¯s new policies. Your loyalty to the king was unquestionable, and you went with a royal decree to execute him, purposely intoxicating him at the banquet. Later that night, after leaving the feast, you ordered Jaguar Warriors from the Holy City Legion to carry out the fratricidal act. With the complicity of an insider from the Yue family, you executed Tepeiter, who had been a longtime friend yet harbored thoughts of treason. Subsequently, you supported the celebrated Izel from the western campaign to inherit the position of Family Head of the Yue family. And after the act, you departed with a smile amidst their farewells!"


    "What¡¯s more admirable is that on the very night of this great deed, you lay with two women and slept undisturbed! Such a loyal samurai¡¯s creed, such a warrior¡¯s fearless act is truly awe-inspiring. Your deeds will soon be sung throughout the Alliance, revered by all!"


    Smiling, Gillim finished speaking and once more bowed deeply, his gaze filled with sincere admiration.


    "Your Majesty!..."


    Xiuxoke clenched his fist to his chest, refusing to look at the bowing Intelligence Officer. He was only filled with turmoil as he stared blankly at the king on his throne. Aweit smiled indifferently, slowly and confidently concluding.


    "Xiuxoke, this is what the world knows as ¡¯the truth.¡¯ Remember, you are Xiulote¡¯s father, the son of the High Priest, a representative of the Royal faction! The two Royal lines must be closely united, leaving no gap for the nobility to exploit!... Besides, you, of a humble background, still need a meritorious deed to secure your position as Deputy Head of the Eagle Warrior Battalion."


    Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 564 - 275: Throne in the Shadows_2

    Xiuxoke remained silent. He stared at the blood-soaked severed head of an old friend as if it still possessed some semblance of lifelike vibrancy. Scenes from days past flashed before his eyes, finally freezing on the image of Izel, with his head bowed and a smile on his face as he poured wine.


    "The herbs in the wine... fallen petals in front of the flowers... so that¡¯s how it is!"


    Xiuxoke muttered to himself. After a while, he lowered his head and bowed deeply again.


    "Your Majesty, I follow your will."


    "Good, very good!"


    Aweit watched with a smile, speaking gently for the first time to the Deputy Head who had just shown his submission.


    "Xiuxoke, you have once waged war against Tizoc for me and achieved great merits. During this western campaign, you also handled the logistics of the Northern Army well.


    You are a distant relative of the royal line, and Xiulote is your son. By that account, our relationship is fairly close. If you have any needs while you¡¯re in the Capital City, feel free to bring them to me or to Gillim."


    "The Eagle Warrior Battalion is the most prestigious guard of the Sun God and a powerful battle group protecting the King. I feel reassured assigning the position of Deputy Head to you. The current Eagle Battalion Head is my family¡¯s trusted Great General, Stanley. You must cooperate like loyal wolves. The numbers of the Eagle Warriors will be expanding soon, with many offspring of the Nobility joining. Perform well, and any promising noble scions you deem worthy can be nominated!"


    "...Thank you, Your Majesty!"


    Xiuxoke clenched his fist and bowed once more in gratitude. His hand relaxed and then clenched again, and after a while, he quietly asked,


    "Your Majesty, about Tepeiter¡¯s head..."


    "Oh, Gillim, what is your opinion?"


    "Tepeiter harbored insidious thoughts and planned a rebellion. This end is a punishment from the Chief Divine! His severed head will be displayed to the Great Nobility from all City-States of the Alliance during the victory festival three days from now. At that time, as the Deputy Head who has earned great merits, you, Xiuxoke, will also stand atop the Great Temple to receive everyone¡¯s homage!"


    Gillim gave a formal bow, smiling at Xiuxoke.


    "Lord Xiuxoke, please calmly accept this honor! Without you, it would not have been so easy to punish the heavily-guarded Tepeiter!"


    Hearing this, Xiuxoke once again glanced at the severed head of his old friend and then silently bowed his head, saying nothing.


    "Well then, that¡¯s settled!"


    Aweit tapped his Divine Staff again, and its clear thud resonated within the heart.


    "The hundreds of warriors from the Holy City Legion will all join the direct command of the Royal Legion. The courageous Jaguar Warriors who beheaded Tepeiter from the Holy City have had their names noted; they will be promoted into the Royal Jaguar Warrior Brigade as centurions. Hmm, Xiuxoke, the Royal Jaguar Warrior Brigade is also expanding. You may nominate any outstanding commoner warriors from the Holy City Legion as well!"


    "Thank you, Your Majesty!"


    "Hmm, you may leave now. Rest well for a couple of days in preparation for the sacrificial ceremony."


    "I will obey Your Majesty¡¯s will."


    Xiuxoke¡¯s expression had returned to calm. He bowed respectfully, then turned and strode towards the bright exit of the hall. Soon, he walked out of the Stone Hall, and the warm sunlight fell on his face as the noise of the crowd reached his ears again. It was then that the resolute warrior finally lifted his head and squinted at the sun, taking a deep sigh.


    "A reunion with an old friend, truly a bright and good day!"


    Xiuxoke murmured to himself. Before he left, he turned his head for one final, deep look at the King¡¯s Great Hall. The heavy stone doors had closed, fluttering curtains blocked the sunlight. And within those shadows, the throne stood aloof, like the lair of the most dangerous beast.


    The Stone Hall lay quiet. Aweit looked upon the painting of the Almighty on the curtain, with eyes as deep as the bottom of a lake. After a while, he finally asked deeply.


    "What does the High Priest say?"


    "The High Priest only learned of it this morning. Faced with the King¡¯s Envoy and in front of many Elder Priests, he loudly declared, ¡¯Well killed! Such is how Eagle Warriors ought to be.¡¯"


    "Ha, that old fox."


    Aweit chuckled lightly, his expression a mixture of amusement and contemplation.


    "The High Priest has deep and calculated plans, Xiulote has the wisdom of Divine Revelation. Even Xiuxoke can be praised for bravery and loyalty. A single family with three generations of heroes, I must admit I¡¯m a bit envious!"


    "Your Majesty, after the new year, Prince Chimalpahin will be five years old. With his innate wit, he can already recite the poems of the former kings with skill and wield a small war club with dexterity. The future prince is sure to be a brilliant example of wisdom and valor!"


    The words of the Intelligence Officer came from the shadows around the throne, a rare hint of mirth in his tone.


    "Hmm, little Chimalpahin, that little tiger cub, haha!"


    Aweit chuckled and shook his head, then returned to the matter at hand.


    "Has the new policy been enacted without disturbances in the city-states?"


    "Your Highness, with the Alliance having pacified the Tarasco Kingdom and defeated the Tlaxcalans, your prestige is at its zenith! As for centralization reforms, the city-states in the northeast have not raised much objection, and Commander-in-Chief Osellor from the north has expressed submission. The city-states of the southwest participated in the Southern Army¡¯s campaign. In the fierce battles between the two armies, the most defiant of the Great Nobility were arranged to die in combat. City-states in the southeast suffered from the invasion of the Tlaxcalans, and many of the Great Nobility met with misfortune. Now, Tepeiter, the leader of the northwestern city-states from the Mountains family, has also been executed. Coupled with the redistribution of nobles in the central region of the Lake District, the Royal Family¡¯s centralization reforms over the Texcoco Lake District will no longer face much resistance!"


    "Very good!"


    Aweit nodded in satisfaction. Then, he pondered before asking,


    "Is the new Family Head of the Mountains family Izel? He is young, can he consolidate the hearts of the city-state people?"


    "Your Majesty, as long as Izel relies closely on the Royal Family¡¯s core, he will be able to control the situation in the city-state. The new High Priest of the Tlalocan city-state will also lend him support. Furthermore, although he is young, he is already a qualified warrior. On the night three days ago when action was taken, he personally led the Jaguar Warriors into his father¡¯s dwelling..."


    "Oh? He is indeed a qualified warrior! If he also possesses courage in battle, he can indeed be deployed to significant use."


    Aweit praised with appreciation. The succession laws among the Mexica were like the jungle, always cruel and bloody¡ªonly the victor is admired. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Gillim, the sacrificial ceremony is about to begin. Ensure that the offerings¡¯ segment is grand and solemn! Have the important Divine Descendant sacrifices been taken care of?"


    "Your Majesty, everything has been properly arranged. Starting tonight, the dosage of anesthetics for the members of the Tarasco Royal Family will be reduced. On the day of the Sacrificial Rite, a suitable amount of hallucinogenic potion will be added to ensure their calm demeanor as they go to their deaths willingly."


    When it came to the Divine Descendant sacrifices, the Intelligence Officer¡¯s expression remained calm, showing not a ripple of emotion. In his eyes, there was no such thing as noble blood.


    "Excellent. As per tradition, Su¡¯angua is the most prized sacrifices, a gift to the Chief Divine. Let him live comfortably these days and arrange for a few beautiful female Priestesses!"


    Speaking thusly, Aweit¡¯s eyes showed the pride of a victor and then, that pride turned to pity, a gift to the fallen king at his feet.


    "I will follow Your Highness¡¯s command."


    The Intelligence Officer smiled and bowed. After a moment, he asked softly,


    "Your Majesty, Su¡¯angua is willing to prostrate himself before you during the festival, in the presence of envoys from all nations and tribes. First to humbly bow as a gesture of submission, then to present his neck for execution!"


    "Oh, indeed? What are his conditions?"


    Upon hearing this, Aweit was quite moved. An old adversary willing to kneel in submission before his death was more satisfying than fine wine.


    "He requests that you spare those of the Divine Eagle Bloodline."


    Gillim bowed his head solemnly. He knew his king¡¯s preferences.


    "Your Majesty, there is a young prince of the Tarasco Royal Family named Shatini. He has the blood of the Noble Chiefs, not of the legitimate line of succession. As a fledgling of the Divine Eagle and with the Alliance¡¯s exquisite potions, he can also be tamed to some extent."


    "Hmm... the Elders..."


    "The Elder grows ever more aged. He has been in seclusion lately, conserving energy for the New Year¡¯s grand Sacrificial Rite. The immortal Sun God high above does not shine upon such hidden corners... Moreover, there are still plenty of bloodlines of the Tarasco Royal Family who have escaped."


    "Hmm..."


    After pondering for a long while, Aweit slowly nodded, his cold smile emerging.


    "So be it. The Great Sacrifice is about to commence, and the anticipation is truly thrilling!"


    The king¡¯s word echoed in the great hall, encircling the towering throne within the shadows. Then, a clear chime rang out, praising the supreme, sublime power and the icy heart of a monarch.

 Chapter 565 - 276: New Year Grand Ceremony, A Splendid Alliance Scene!

    The winter sun rose from the Great Lake in the East, its shimmering rays dancing across the vast lake surface, also bathing the city of Tenochtitlan, built of white stone, in a golden hue. A gentle cool breeze from the highlands in the north swept through, lifting the vivid Divine Curtains adorning the buildings and caressing the elegant, feather-trimmed corners of people¡¯s garments. As the first light of dawn emerged, hundreds of Priests simultaneously lit ceremonial incense, and the air was soon permeated with the faint scent of pine.


    Today was the auspicious day of the New Year¡¯s Grand Celebration. The skies were barely lit, yet the Lake Capital City had awakened from its slumber. The deafening noise of hundreds of thousands of people was so loud it could scatter the clouds! Shortly thereafter, morning prayers began in the various community Temples throughout the districts, signaling the beginning of the sacrificial ceremonies. The chanting of the community Priests was loud and clear, accompanied by the mournful sounds of bone flutes, soaring bamboo flutes, and heavy leather drums, which then merged into waves of cheering!


    The thunderous sounds drifted far from the city¡¯s eighty districts, all the way to the lake above Texcoco. Migratory waterfowl, startled from their slumber, cried out loudly as they unfolded their colorful wings and soared in circles through the skies above the Lake Region!


    With the help of his concubines, Xiuxoke had already donned his attire, standing in the courtyard of his home and looking up at the endless blue sky. He was accustomed to being in charge of his own household; after returning to the Capital City, he did not reside in the High Priest¡¯s Mansion but visited regularly on a set schedule.


    At this moment, he was dressed in tight Leather Armor, with an overcoat of Eagle Warrior¡¯s high-ranking War Clothes, his head adorned with a towering, magnificent Eagle Helmet, making him look extremely imposing. After observing for a moment, the determined Samurai took out his Longbow, aimed at the white wings flying overhead, and fiercely drew the bowstring.


    "Hum..."


    The half-drawn bowstring resonated with a deep vibration, emitting a low hum, but no Feathered Arrow was released. It turned out to be a feigned shot.


    "The white bird freely soars in the sky, the Longbow sits alone inside. On this auspicious New Year¡¯s day, at the Sacrificial Grand Ceremony, the weather is truly splendid!"


    Xiuxoke muttered a couple of lines of a short poem, then shook his head with a smile. He slung the Longbow over his back, clasped a War Club at his waist, and after feeling the Short Dagger strapped to his thigh, he strode out of the door.


    As the Deputy Head of the Eagle Warrior Battalion, his duty today was to lead his troops in armed formation beneath the Great Temple, which essentially meant remaining fully armed throughout the day. For the resolute Samurai, such a duty was hardly strenuous, especially with the spectacle of the festival to enjoy.


    Stepping out of the courtyard, he was immediately met with a roiling hubbub. Tens of thousands of people were gathered on either side of the streets, crowding into many circles. Both Nobility and commoners, dressed in their most vivid and colorful outfits, laughed and sang and danced, praising the glory of the Chief Divine and celebrating the victory of the western expedition. This was where the boundaries of the Nobility and Civilian District met, and also where the parade in honor of the divine spirits was about to pass through.


    Before long, the parade procession approached from the Temple District. A hundred Samurai cleared the way at the forefront. Led by the chanting of the High Priests, two hundred laborers, bent under the weight, carried a wide and magnificent wooden Divine Stage, moving forward slowly and steadily.


    The cheers of the crowd grew louder, shouts of praise beating like drums! From time to time, members of the Nobility bowed their heads to come forward, placing offerings for the deities¡ªfruit, flowers, Gold Ornaments, silver, and Gemstones¡ªon the edges of the Divine Stage. Inside the boundary of the stage, a circle of sacred Cactus flowers symbolized holiness, followed by a circle of Turquoise representing immortality, and in the center stood the symbol of the highest Chief Divine: the Golden Sun, more than one meter in diameter and weighing over a ton.


    In the Europe of this era, a ton of Gold was a stupendous Wealth that made all Monarchs drool. But for the Central American civilization situated atop gold and silver mines, a ton of Gold was merely an artifact for offering to the gods. The Lake Capital City of Tenochtitlan was the heart of Central America, gathering the world¡¯s greatest Wealth! Not counting Silver and Gemstones, the reserves of Gold alone amounted to hundreds of tons, scattered across every Noble¡¯s Manor, courtyard, and tomb.


    Xiuxoke paused, bowing respectfully to the Third Level High Priest leading the procession. The Priest sat solemnly and majestically on a palanquin carried by eight men, only relaxing into a warm smile upon recognizing Xiuxoke¡¯s face.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! High Priest Xiuxoke, the New Year¡¯s festival has begun, may the Chief Divine bestow blessings upon you!"


    "Praise the Chief Divine! Esteemed High Priest, may I offer prayers and blessings under the Chief Divine¡¯s Sun?"


    "Certainly! The blank area beneath the Golden Sun is reserved for eminent individuals like you." S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With a wave of his hand, the Third Level High Priest motioned for the procession to halt. Xiuxoke expressed his sincere thanks, then stepped forward, took out two Pearls from Mikenque Lake Region, and delicately placed them beneath the Golden Sun before bowing his head in silent prayer.


    "Blessing of the Chief Divine! My father, may you enjoy good health... My son, may you spread your wings and soar..."


    Moments later, Xiuxoke finished his prayer and smiled as he nodded to the High Priest.


    "Esteemed High Priest, thank you for your kindness. May I have the honor of knowing your name?"


    "Ha-ha, I am Aureli from the glorious Priestly Family of the Capital City. My father Azar is a colleague of the High Priest and one of the twelve Elder Priests too..."


    At this, Xiuxoke¡¯s eyes flashed. The root word "Azar" was associated with war. This Priestly Family must be an ancient lineage dedicated to the War God, deeply ingrained in the Capital City.


    "May the War God bless you! High Priest Aureli, I must head to the Great Temple for my guard duty, so I shall take my leave now!"


    "War God bless us! High Priest Xiuxoke, the Elder Priests are already in place within the Chief Temple. The immortal Elder should appear after the sun rises... You might want to hurry a bit!"

 Chapter 566 - 276 New Year’s Grand Ceremony, A Grand Scene for the Alliance!_2

    "Thank you for reminding me! Praise the Chief Divine!"


    "Praise the Chief Divine!"


    Both men bowed their heads and bid each other farewell with a salute as the procession continued on its way.


    Xiuxoke walked briskly as the wind and soon arrived at the entrance to the Temple District, where a thousand-strong Eagle Warrior Battalion had already gathered, fully armed and standing in solemn wait for the two battalion leaders. He looked around, Stanley was not there yet; only the camp captains saluted him.


    Xiuxoke returned the greetings with a gentle smile and then took his place at the front of the line. The towering Great Pyramid Temple loomed before him, the priests had already lit the roaring Sacred Fire, and the blue Sacrifices were being escorted out from the holding cells of the various temples. He gazed at the gradually brightening sky, at the endless line of Sacrifices, and thought of his aging father preparing for the Sacrificial Rite in the Great Temple, heaving a soft sigh.


    "The New Year¡¯s Grand Sacrifice will last three full days, the High Priest will personally wield the blade... My father¡¯s health..."


    As he pondered, the bear-like Stanley appeared at the end of the street, his eyes brimming with exuberant spirits. He roared a greeting to all and then threw an arm around Xiuxoke¡¯s shoulder.


    "Haha, praise the Chief Divine! Xiuxoke, my old friend, we meet again!"


    "Praise the Chief Divine! Greetings to you, Battalion Leader Stanley!"


    "Haha, the sun is dazzling, the clouds are dispersing, the sacred Grand Sacrifice is today! A fine day for flowers and blood, I¡¯ve been looking forward to this for a long time!"


    Stanley, though young, held a high rank and exuded an unrestrained confidence. In the presence of Xiuxoke, who was of similar standing, he behaved quite affably.


    "Just now on the way here, I watched the human sacrifice ballgame. There were some brilliant strikes, splashing blood and breaking the bones of the opponents... You know, the Tekos warriors might be barbarians from the mountains, but they play ball with a fierce bravery, far better than the Tarasco warriors! I watched two games; the Tarasco teams lost both matches, sentenced to sacrifice the whole team. When they were brought up to the altar, there were even some who wet their pants! Haha!"


    Excited by the talk of a great ballgame, Xiuxoke nodded with a smile. Then, with a touch of puzzlement, he asked.


    "Stanley, isn¡¯t the human sacrifice ball court inside the Temple District? Where did you watch it just now?"


    "Oh, Xiuxoke, you¡¯ve only been in the Capital City for two or three days, probably not clear about many arrangements. With the return from the western expedition, among the captives brought to the Capital City, there were four thousand Tekos warriors and four thousand Tarasco warriors, and more than two thousand men from the Nobility..." Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The captives involved in the Sacrificial Rites are simply too numerous! The Elder Priests, with their illustrious statuses, are only responsible for sacrificing nobles from Tarasco. The remaining warriors from the two groups are all thrown into the human sacrifice ball courts. The generous and compassionate King, in both the Nobility and Civilian Districts, has added four new ball courts, allowing all the citizens of the Capital City to join in the revelry!"


    "Ah, what? This Grand Sacrifice will sacrifice a total of ten thousand people?"


    Hearing this number, Xiuxoke gasped. Even though he was hardened by battlefield slaughter and accustomed to heaps of corpses and seas of blood, he was still profoundly shocked. After all, the total population of an ordinary City-State would be around ten thousand.


    "Haha, Xiuxoke, it turns out your mathematics isn¡¯t as good as mine!"


    Stanley laughed heartily. In his eyes, the lives of enemies were no more than weeds by the roadside; only the brave deserved admiration.


    "Eight thousand warriors enter the human sacrifice ball courts, competing for three days. The losing half becomes Sacrifices on the small pyramids, while the winning half becomes slaves for the construction of the King¡¯s Palace. Oh, and you need to add the injured from the ball games, the nobles sacrificed by the elders... This festival will probably sacrifice exactly a Xiquipilli, eight thousand people! Haha!"


    Stanley slapped Xiuxoke on the back, laughing. Then, his expression became serious and his eyes gleamed, showing a rare sign of wisdom.


    "Xiuxoke, compared to the feat of annihilating the Tarasco Kingdom, what does this number amount to! The Tekos barbarians are stubborn and always resist and flee, too troublesome to manage, it¡¯s better to send them to the ball court to please the people!


    And those brought to the Capital City are the die-hard loyalists of the Tarasco Kingdom, senior warriors and hereditary Nobility who held power and wealth. We Mexica have destroyed their Kingdom, taken their Fief, killed their kin, stolen their wives and daughters, and divided their Wealth. Can we really expect gratitude and sincere allegiance from them?


    ... Haha, only the low-ranking warriors and Nobility are worth recruiting because the Alliance can offer them more! As for the rest, whether seasoned warriors, Divine Descendant Nobility or the Divine Eagle Royal Family, let¡¯s send them all to the altar to be offered to the highest Chief Divine!"


    Xiuxoke considered for a moment and nodded in agreement. After a brief pause, he looked doubtfully at Stanley, assessing the wide forehead and bear-like stature of the other.


    "Stanley, who said that? It doesn¡¯t sound like something you could come up with."


    "Of course, I did!..."


    Under Xiuxoke¡¯s scrutinizing gaze, Stanley bellowed out the first half of the sentence. Then, somewhat embarrassed, he paused and finished the sentence in a lower voice.


    "... I heard it from the respected King Aweit."


    Xiuxoke laughed softly, with an ¡¯I knew it¡¯ expression. Stanley¡¯s face turned a bit red, and he turned and bellowed.


    "All Eagle Warriors, get your gear ready! March to the Temple District, and stand guard around the Great Temple! The immortal Elder is about to arrive. If any suspicious foreign envoys approach, kill on sight without question!"


    "Roar!"


    The thousand-strong Eagle Warrior Battalion roared like wild beasts, and they filed by Battle Group to arrange defense around the Great Temple in the Temple District. As the Sun God¡¯s guard, their only duty was to ensure the safety of the Great Temple. Inside the Temple District, there were already stationed three thousand Royal Warriors and a thousand Jaguar Warrior Brigade. These five thousand elite warriors of the Alliance were more than enough to suppress any threat!

 Chapter 567 - 276: New Year Grand Ceremony, Alliance Spectacular!_3

    Xiuxoke advanced, and the towering Great Temple loomed ever more majestic. The sixty-meter-high twin pyramids, like the Chief Divine¡¯s Snake Mountain in myths, cast grand shadows on the ground, evoking a profound reverence within. At the summit of the Great Temple, a dozen dots with high feather crowns, dressed in solemn ceremonial robes, stood like messengers of the gods, gazing down upon the entire Lake Capital City. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiuxoke squinted, looking toward the figure at the lead, solemn and aged. That figure also cast his gaze over. After a moment, the resolved samurai voluntarily bowed his head, shifting his eyes away.


    He scanned the corner¡¯s ball court where the Nobility, relaxed, ate sweets made from maple and honey, drank cocoa enriched with herbs and chili, and boisterously discussed the thrilling game. Occasionally, defeated teams were escorted to the surrounding small pyramids and rolled down amid cheers, adding dashes of bright red and foul sweetness to the Temple District.


    In this brutal age, such bloodshed was invisible, so commonplace as to be unremarkable to everyone. The Nobility continued to laugh and talk loudly, relishing the dried fruits of all seasons, including the sweet and sour cactus fruit, pineapple, Qilin fruit, mamey, lychee, tortoiseshell bamboo fruits, and the highly popular, deliciously flavored black persimmons.


    Deeper into the court was the plaza of the Temple District. Graceful dancers swirled, focused musicians played divine music, and solemn singers praised the spirits. Occasionally, inspired Poets would step onto the platform, reciting a new poem, eliciting cheers or head-shakes. Occasionally, the Great Nobility from the capital also stepped forward, displaying their erudition and grandeur in front of the crowd.


    The poems describing the western campaigns were the most popular, attracting even the foreign Envoys¡¯ earnest attention, who occasionally asked in hushed tones, then emitted quiet exclamations of awe.


    Xiuxoke listened briefly, overhearing something about ""The Divine Revelation¡¯s prince transformed into a running Black Wolf, casting out lightning like thunderbolts, causing even the sturdiest fortresses to collapse"" and ""The Priests prayed for the Chief Divine to descend, turning the Divine Tree into a roaring treeman, hurling invincible rocks""... At this, the resolved samurai smiled reassuringly.


    Xiuxoke smiled, leading his large group of Eagle Warriors through the bustling crowd. Soon, he arrived at the steps of the Great Temple. A squad of Temple Warriors in Black Wolf attire bowed, saluting the two captains before passing them two vertically held Long Spears. These special Long Spears were five meters long, each featuring a large banner of the Chief Divine in the middle, with a wildly-haired head at the top.


    Xiuxoke sighed softly, his expression instantaneously solemn. He took his Long Spear, holding it upright with both hands. Then, the resolute samurai looked up to see Tepeiter¡¯s fresh head atop. He glanced at Stanley¡¯s Long Spear, whose top carried a dried, indistinct head, yet both grotesquely wide-eyed.


    "Who is that?"


    Xiuxoke identified for a moment, certain he had never seen it before.


    "Haha, that¡¯s the head of Quyus, the Southern Route Commander, the Prince of Tarasco!"


    Stanley looked at the head, bursting out laughing, then grew somewhat contemplative.


    "This guy was a formidable fighter! He kept the highest fortress on the southern route impenetrable, holding us off for almost a year! I personally led several charges, and each time we were driven back, dusty and disgraced, even taking an arrow to the knee. After Su¡¯angua fled, he still held us off for over a week, truly one of the most capable Marshals in the Tarasco Kingdom!"


    "Southern Route Commander Quyus?"


    Hearing the familiar name, Xiuxoke was a bit surprised.


    "Didn¡¯t he escape?"


    "Haha, he ran off to the Mistec. If one could trust the cloud-dwellers as steadfast, domestic turkeys might fly up trees!"


    Stanley glanced at the distant Mistec Envoys, scoffing disdainfully. Their nobility carried themselves with restrained movements, never exhibiting grand gestures, even speaking slowly. They wore robes inlaid with Gold and Silver, and their wrists and ankles bore glittering openwork gold bracelets, seemingly inept at fighting.


    "Here you have it, the cloud-dwellers treated Quyus thoroughly well for months. But as soon as news arrived of the King crushing the Tlaxcala legions, they promptly turned on him, drugged him, and chopped off his head to send here, confessing and pledging loyalty to the Alliance. Tsk tsk, look at the expression of his wide eyes before death, such a great hero must have had so much regret!"


    As Stanley continued speaking, even Xiuxoke felt somewhat moved. He suddenly recalled a poem his son had mentioned, fitting with the Mexica concept of fate and the current scene, and recited it softly.


    "When the God of Destiny favors you, the divine sky and earth both grant you the force of victory! But the moment the God of Destiny departs, even a hero of unparalleled grandeur can only sigh helplessly at his downfall!"


    "Eh? Xiuxoke, that¡¯s a fine poem! Who said it? It surely doesn¡¯t sound like something you could come up with."


    Stanley exclaimed admiringly, then suspiciously eyed Xiuxoke.


    Xiusoke¡¯s face suddenly turned red. Yet his son¡¯s poem, if copied, was just that, and no harsh words about the father would suffice.


    "Of course, it¡¯s mine!..."


    Both men, holding their Long Spears, stood with their backs to the Great Pyramid Temple, laughing and talking as such. Soon, the sun rose high into the sky, brightening the day.


    Suddenly, a frenzied roar of cheers erupted from the plaza of the Temple District. In an instant, it rose like thunder, shaking the heavens and the earth! Everyone present, whether Nobility, Priest, warrior, or even foreign Envoy, all showed their heartfelt reverence, bowing like bent maize stalks!


    The two captains instantly turned solemn. They grasped their Long Spears, bowed their heads, and knelt on one knee. Such a display of universal submission, both domestic and foreign, could only mean one thing! Soon, hundreds of Priests together cried out in praise. The acclaim cascaded from the heights, profoundly stirring everyone¡¯s heart.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! The great Xiwakowatle, the Mexica¡¯s immortal sun, the embodiment of the Chief Divine, the supreme elder, descended among us!"

 Chapter 568 - 277 New Year’s Grand Ceremony, Elder’s Heart

    The Priest¡¯s praise sounded like the first thunder of winter, emanating powerfully to reach the earth, penetrating directly into the ears of the prostrate masses. In an instant, there was silence all around. The Temple Plaza in front of the Great Temple suddenly fell quiet, save for the deep, short breaths and the crackling of the Sacred Fire.


    The elder, expressionless, rose from the stone chair in front of the Temple and walked toward the edge of the Great Temple¡¯s pyramid.


    He was clad in a black Ceremonial Dress robe, which hid his gaunt figure; on his head, he wore an ancient, elongated Feather Crown, covering his completely white hair. In his right hand, he still held the Scepter of the Chief Minister, his companion for over fifty years.


    He moved with slow and firm steps, gradually appearing before the eyes of the multitude, just as his old and majestic visage slowly impressed itself upon the hearts of the people. A step behind him followed the High Priest, also in a Feather Crown Ceremonial Dress, slightly shorter in stature. Two steps further behind, the statue-like Guard Captain, carrying a pottery jar, followed with equally precise steps, closely shadowing behind.


    At the edge of the Temple, in front of the Sacred Fire, the elder stopped, the firelight illuminating his profound eyes. His tall figure finally came fully into view of the masses at the highest point of the pyramid, receiving their adoration! Then, the elder slowly raised his right arm, lifting the Chief¡¯s Scepter above his head, just as he had done fifty years ago!


    "We-we! Elder! ... Immortal Sun! Sun! ..."


    The second clap of thunder exploded at this moment! Led by the Priest, from the central Temple to the edges of the Temple District, everyone frantically cheered together. At this moment, even the usually stoic Xiuxoke and the flamboyantly proud Stanley were excitedly red-eyed, fist-pumping and shouting aloud!


    As the Chief Minister of the Alliance, Elder Trakel Er was now eighty-eight years old! Having lived through five monarchs, he had effectively controlled the Alliance from behind the scenes for half a century, the true immortal sun of the Mexica! Three generations of Mexica grew up listening to his legends, filled with boundless reverence, and fearfully followed his reformative decrees.


    Faced with this living legend, envoys from all countries bowed simultaneously, their hearts filled with both deep fear and sincere lamentation. The Mexica elder was indeed still alive!


    In an era where the average lifespan barely exceeded twenty years, such a long-lived elder was like an immortal nightmare, constantly looming over the hearts of all factions under heaven. It could be said that as long as the suppressive elder of the Alliance lived another day, all the Great Nobility with different dreams could only remain concealed and endure. The whole Mexica Alliance was a closely connected entity! Even if the centralization reforms of religion and politics stirred up raging storms, the united rock of the Alliance remained intact and unbreachable!


    The hysterical cheers continued for dozens of breaths until the elder slowly retracted his scepter, and the clamor gradually subsided. Then, the High Priest took a deep breath, stepped forward, and, looking up at the sky, roared with all his might.


    "The sun rises, Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli ascends to the highest! The Chief Divine blesses the Alliance, the divine war on the west achieved perfect victory! The Chief Divine has devoured the Tarasco three gods, reigning over the sun, the moon, and the earth! He is omnipotent!"


    "Praise the Chief Divine! God protects the Alliance!"


    The High Priest raised the Divine Staff and roared loudly.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! God protects the Alliance!"


    Hundreds of Priests prayed simultaneously, their voices loud and fervent, reaching the skies.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! God protects the Alliance!"


    Tens of thousands of Capital City citizens shouted fanatically, like the third thunderbolt, scattering birds across the sky.


    Below the Great Temple, Xiuxoke was fervent and also shouted loudly. This declaration after the victory was especially exhilarating.


    "The Chief Divine maintains the world¡¯s rotation, needing Holy Blood to perfect the sun! The evil three gods are dead, and their Divine Descendants must offer Holy Blood, to make the Chief Divine smile contentedly! The Divine says, His mercy is like the sun, shining on every pure heart, sowing into every clean soul! ...The world has the same origin, coming from the Olmecs. Prepetcha and Mexica are descendants of the Olmecs, brothers from the previous Era. The sun will shine on them equally, and the Chief Divine will lead them on the right path! ...Thus, commoners may convert, but Divine Descendants must be sacrificed!"


    The vast plaza was quiet and solemn, with only the Priests repeating the divine decree. Soon, low murmurs began to arise among the nobles and Samurai of the Alliance. They were not doubting but slightly puzzled.


    "Prepetcha are our brothers?"


    Hearing this, the towering Stanley grimaced, then asked, puzzled,


    "What are the Olmecs?"


    "The Olmecs are Olmec people, the common ancestors of all factions under heaven."


    Xiuxoke responded calmly and confidently. He knew this was a recently circulated statement from Qinchongcan City, also quite popular among the Prepetcha. A fief in the middle of the lake had sent envoys to the elder and the High Priest, reporting the newly compiled doctrine. It seemed, this doctrine had been adapted and accepted by the High Priests as a tool for conquering the world.


    "Eh? Aren¡¯t our ancestors the Aztecs? The legendary origin Divine Mountain is in the far northwest of the world!"


    Stanley scratched his head, looked toward the northwest sky, and then back at Xiuxoke.


    "Uh, the Aztecs are also descendants of the Olmecs... Trust me, the world has the same origin, coming from the Olmecs!"


    Xiuxoke responded confidently. Stanley grimaced again but did not ask further. He was somewhat unsure, but since the High Priest had spoken on behalf of the elder, it probably was so! S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 569 - 277 New Year’s Grand Ceremony, Elder’s Heart_2

    ```


    "Even if we share the same ancestors, it¡¯s definitely us Mexica people who fight the best!"


    In a corner of the plaza, envoys from all over the world exchanged glances with each other. A vague premonition arose in their hearts. Such a declaration could change the pattern of the world... but they couldn¡¯t ponder it deeply at the moment because the announcement was followed by a sacrifice!


    "The Sun awakens, opening its red eyes! The Chief Divine descends, witnessing the blood-red future! We offer Holy Blood to the Chief Divine, blessing the world with devout hearts!... Grateful to the Chief Divine, we offer Holy Blood!"


    "Grateful to the Chief Divine, we offer Holy Blood!"


    Amidst the priests¡¯ shouts, the murmurs ceased instantly. The multitude in the plaza fell silent for a moment. Then, the fourth thunderous roar of astonishment exploded, terrifying all the foreign envoys.


    "Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice!"


    Atop the towering pyramid, the multitudes bowed and rose like a swarm of ants. The waves of their cries rose from the foot and dispersed into the far sky with the long winds. The High Priest slightly tilted his head, caught the godlike expression of the Elder, and understandingly waved the Divine Staff in his hand, commanding loudly.


    "Begin the sacrifice!"


    Hundreds of Temple Guards obeyed the command. Fully armed Religious Knights escorted the numb-faced Tarasco nobility towards their destined fate. The Great Sacrifice would last three days, with 800 nobility offered each day. It was a number endowed with Divinity, symbolizing the cycle of Eras.


    Xiuxoke gazed intently as two rows of the blue procession, like serpents, wound for miles, slowly flowing toward the peak of the Twin Pyramids, to the two Sacrificial Stones in front of the Temple. There, twelve Elder Priests had already split into two groups, daggers of Obsidian in hand, ready to proceed. Soon, a familiar and aged cry echoed in the up and down of the Great Temple.


    "Descendant of the Rubber People, Akanbaro State¡¯s nobility, Kukuna II, goes to the Sun God¡¯s domain! His soul, following its own will, shall meet with his father who went to the Divine Kingdom, and find eternal peace!"


    "Thud, thud... boom..."


    A fresh corpse rolled down from the top of the Great Temple, then stopped before Xiuxoke, blocked by the statue of the Moon Goddess. The resolute samurai glanced at the young face and the terror in the eyes just before death, and shook his head lightly.


    Stanley stood upright next to him and laughed heartily.


    "Haha, someone is named Kukuna? In our Mexica language, Keke Lou means a foolish turkey, right?"


    "In the Prepetcha language, Kukuna also means turkey. I remember this family; encountered them at the North Coast Wooden Fort and the Rivermouth Fort."


    "Tsk tsk, what a name! Kukuna II, haha, so his father was also a Kukuna turkey? A turkey-like, weak Prepetcha!"


    "Actually not. His father died in battle, was quite the warrior! But this fellow, seems like he was captured by the Militia..."


    The two men, accustomed to bloodshed, gazed at the fresh red on the ground and chatted indifferently. Suddenly, another roar of cheers went up like thunder, resounding under the gradually reddening Great Temple.


    "We-we! Elder!! Sun!!!"


    The Elder, expressionless, slowly raised the Divine Staff in his right hand. Then, he stretched out his left hand and took from the reverent High Priest a throbbing, living heart. The boiling cheers reached their peak! Under the watchful eyes of the multitude, the Elder raised his left hand and threw the living heart forcefully into the blazing Sacred Fire.


    The blue smoke rose gently, the blood turned into char, and a soul was thus offered to the Chief Divine. The Elder calmly watched the Sacred Fire for a moment, then slowly turned and walked toward the Temple behind him. There was a special priest¡¯s passage leading to the adjacent Chief Palace.


    "Praise to the Chief Divine! The great Xiwakowatle, the undying sun of the Mexica people, the incarnation of the lofty Chief Divine, the supreme Elder, returns to the Throne of the Gods!"


    With the High Priests¡¯ laudation, tens of thousands of Mexica Citizens bowed again, reverently seeing off the departing deity among men.


    The Elder¡¯s demeanor was calm, his steps were steady. He exuded no sign of fatigue or decline. He seemed like the sun and moon of the heavens, as though he would eternally last. Behind him, the Guard Captain still held the clay pot, remaining close at all times.


    As the light dimmed and the shadows slowly engulfed, the Elder stepped into the towering Temple, leaving behind the increasingly fervent ceremony. The noises of life faded in a moment, leaving only death-like silence. The Elder walked into the downward sloping passage, now with no one else around. Finally, he stopped, his body suddenly slumped, leaning against the cold stone wall.


    "Venerable!"


    ```


    The Guard Commander let out a low call and hurried forward, just in time to support the Elder¡¯s arm. "Thump," the long Feather Crown fell from the elder¡¯s head, his completely white hair becoming disheveled. The swaying shadow brought a breeze that revealed the frail body beneath the voluminous black robe, already thin and bony. Underneath the rich scent of spices was an unmistakable old man¡¯s smell!


    "Venerable One... Your Potion!"


    The Guard Commander carefully supported the Elder, allowing the latter to lean on his shoulder. Then, he opened a clay jar and took out a jar of pale yellow potion.


    "No need, Cevali."


    In the Nava language, Cevali means "shadow." The indistinctly present shadow was always loyally attached to the mountain, never leaving for a moment.


    The Elder closed his eyes, resting for a good while before he calmly opened them again, emitting a rare sigh.


    "Stimulating potions borrow from life yet to come. And I don¡¯t have much life left... The Alliance can¡¯t survive without me. I must try to live a little longer."


    It took another good while before the Elder regained his strength. He slowly got up, steadied himself, and reached out to take the Feather Crown and put it on again. A strong, sweet, and bloody smell assaulted his nose as the Elder shifted his gaze to his left hand, now covered in fresh red.


    "Cevali."


    "Respected Elder."


    "Tell me honestly, who do you think can stabilise the hearts of the Alliance after I die?"


    "Ah, this... Venerable One, you are the immortal Sun..."


    "Speak." sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His calm words carried a gentle tone yet held an irresistible force. Cevali was silent for a moment before he succinctly replied.


    "The High Priest and the King. Together, they are enough."


    "The High Priest..."


    The Elder gazed at his bloodied left hand, his eyes as deep and dark as the ocean floor. After a long moment, he began to speak emotionlessly.


    "What if, the High Priest departs before me?"


    At these words, Cevali¡¯s expression changed subtly. He thought carefully for a moment, then gently shook his head, remaining silent.


    "Hmm. The Holy City line..."


    The Elder closed his eyes and slowly withdrew his left hand. In his weathered heart, the image of a young and handsome face suddenly flashed.


    "The vibrancy of youth, truly enviable..."


    After a lengthy silence, the Elder sighed deeply. He had come all the way from the past century, his spirit as mighty as the mountains and seas. In this world, the only thing that could make him sigh was the merciless passage of time.


    "Let¡¯s go."


    The old Elder took his steps, slowly descending underground. Cevali, clutching the clay jar tight like a silent sculpture, followed closely behind. The New Year¡¯s grand celebration was reaching its climax behind them!


    Name after name, one fresh life after another, and soul after soul! The citizens of the Capital were engulfed in sheer fervor. The boiling cheers penetrated the stone walls, crossing past and present, and moving towards a brand new future!

 Chapter 570 - 278 New Year’s Grand Ceremony, King’s Will

    The blazing Sun rose higher, unleashing endless light and heat, showering the grand Great Pyramid Temple with its glow. The shadow of the pyramid gradually retracted, leaving only the profound darkness within the Temple. The elders vanished into the darkness, while the High Priest¡¯s arms lifted in the light, the ritual climbed toward its climax!


    One after another, the blue Sacrifices ascended the platform amid fervent cheers that pierced the heavens. The Sun God opened His eyes indifferently. He watched the brilliant colors, admired the scroll of life; He inhaled the wafting divine smoke, demanding the tribute of souls; He licked the burning flames, devouring the flesh and blood of the Sacrifices. Finally, with the priests¡¯ impassioned chanting, He let out a contented sigh, thunderous like Thunderbolt, shaking heaven and earth, dispatching His avatar to the world of men!


    "Boom, boom, boom!"


    On the pure gold gun mounts, three massive new wooden cannons aimed at the sky were fired, suddenly bursting forth with a shocking roar! The cannon wind swept through, and the banners of the trinity of deities fluttered behind the gun mounts. Sequentially depicted on the banners were the three images of Huitzilopochtli: the Chief Divine seated upon the Throne of the Gods, the Sun God donning the Golden Crown, and the War God with Lightning in his grasp. This signified that the wooden cannons before them were indeed Divine Artifacts granted by the deities!


    The intense roar of the cannon conveyed a chilling Divine Might, causing the sky to shake and the earth to tremble, bringing silence all around! Instantly, the multitudes on the plaza prostrated themselves, bowing in awe beneath the Divine Might, and envoys from various states also knelt in frightened veneration. The High Priest then loudly proclaimed.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! The avatar of the Sun God, Great Tlatoani of the Alliance, the supreme King, graced the ritual!"


    With a cold expression, Aweit gripped the Divine Staff in his hand and walked to the edge of the Great Pyramid Temple. He was clad in the king¡¯s attire adorned with the image of the sun, topped with an exquisite Feather Crown of Obsidian, and wore on his back a magnificent cape inlaid with gemstones. For today¡¯s ritual, he had arrived early at the side chamber next to the Great Temple to prepare. Only after the immortal elders left did he appear as the sole King.


    At this moment, the King ascended the pinnacle, overlooking the crowd like ants, reveling in the prostration and reverence of his Citizens. A faint smile curved his lips. His gaze swept over the area around the pyramid, the still-smoking massive wooden cannons, and the busy royal cannoneers loading them, inwardly nodding.


    "Such roaring wooden cannons can awe the heart! They are indeed fitting for use in rituals, to declare the Divine Might of the Royal Family!" S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ever since he first witnessed the power of the wooden cannons, Aweit had completely taken a liking to this new type of weaponry. More precisely, he appreciated the tremendous boom of the explosions.


    In the eyes of the King, who reigned supreme over the hearts of people, the raw power of the wooden cannons was actually not astonishing. However, in this era of blind faith in the deities, if one were to cloak the wooden cannons in a veil of Divinity, presenting them as Divine Artifacts bestowed by the deities, they could strike directly at the heart on the battlefield, achieving what thousands of Samurai could not! During the battle with the Tlaxcala legion, the roar of the wooden cannon had successfully demoralized the enemy. Similarly, the mock cannons in the ritual could also intimidate the Citizens and states!


    With a commanding presence, Aweit oversaw the scene for nearly a Quarter, while the crowd on the plaza remained motionless, crawling in reverence for a long time. Only when he saw the cannoneers had finished loading did the King lift the Divine Staff high, and bellow with a stern voice.


    "Under the Chief Divine¡¯s protection, a great victory in battle! To the Chief Divine, I offer the most precious Sacrifice! He is the King of the Tarasco Kingdom, the Cazonci of the Prepetcha people, the Divine Descendant King Su¡¯angua!"


    "Sacrifice the King of Tarasco, Su¡¯angua!... Boom, boom, boom...!"


    Hundreds of priests chanted together, followed by three more roars of the deities. The community priests shouted the will of the gods, and the citizens of the twenty-five thousand Capital City gradually quieted down.


    Then, the distant sound of a Bamboo Flute erupted at the end of the main road. Encircled by nearly a hundred Samurai, a group of forty strong men shouldering a wide wooden platform approached slowly from miles away. They passed in front of the dwellings of common folk, through the gardens of the Nnobility, beyond the Temple Pyramid of the priests, and under the gaze of countless eyes amidst the frenzied shouts of the populace, they finally arrived at the Temple Plaza!


    Xiuxoke gripped his Long Spears tightly, his eyes widened as he watched the wooden platform draw nearer.


    Atop the splendid wooden platform sat a silent young man surrounded by four lovely young Priestesses. He was dressed in the Divine Eagle warrior attire of Tarasco, wearing the forked Kingdom Crown on his head. Although his face was pale, it still bore a trace of his long-held authority. Led by the priests, the platform made a deliberate detour around the area where the envoys gathered, evoking gasps of shock.


    "It really is, it really is... the King of Tarasco... Su¡¯angua!"


    "He was captured alive and brought here as a Sacrifice for the Alliance!"


    "The Tarasco Kingdom, mighty for two hundred years, has met such an end!..."


    "Ah, your Majesty!..."


    The wooden platform slowly moved past, and Su¡¯angua kept his head bowed motionless as if asleep. It wasn¡¯t until he passed the lineup of blue Sacrifices and heard the suppressed, familiar shouts that he opened his eyes again. Figures of familiar and unfamiliar Tarascan Great Nobility appeared and disappeared before the King¡¯s eyes, stirring ripples in his deathly still eyes.


    "The Divine Descendant of the Kingdom, the Divine Eagle King, journey together to the Divine Kingdom, facing the ancient ancestors... Ah, how splendid!"


    The wooden platform slowly came to rest in front of the Great Temple, then thudded heavily onto the ground. With a rueful smile, Su¡¯angua stood up from the platform, calmly welcoming his fated destiny. He ascended the sixty-meter Great Pyramid Temple one step at a time, walking past the hundreds of priests and warriors, until he reached the last step where the raging Sacred Fire reflected on his pale and tranquil face. Not far away, Aweit lifted his Feather Crown, his lips bursting into a smile, as if he were the jubilant Sun God welcoming him.

 Chapter 571 - 278 New Year’s Grand Ceremony, King’s Will_2

    Su¡¯angua turned his head and watched the sun ascend to mid-sky, with not a cloud in the boundless expanse. Then, his gaze followed the sunlight downward to the pyramid below, illuminating a multitude of tiny figures. Tens of thousands of faces looked up in excitement and anticipation, their eyes also on him. Within the heart of Tarasco¡¯s king, a sense of fate dawned. He suddenly recalled a fleeting thought from long ago, while watching the "House of Wind" sacrificial rite.


    "So this is the famous Mexica sacrifice ceremony known throughout the world! And I am witnessing the grand spectacle of the New Year¡¯s great ceremony in this manner..."


    Suppressing the sorrow in his heart, Su¡¯angua surveyed the queue of sacrifices for a long time. He saw several of his sons, a few brothers of the royal family, but not the small figure of Shatini. The Tarasco king nodded silently, finally climbed the last step, and for the first time, truly faced the Mexica king.


    "King of Tarasco, blood of the Divine Eagle, Su¡¯angua, greets you! King of Mexica."


    Su¡¯angua bowed his head, clenched his fist at his chest, and performed the protocol of kings meeting.


    "The ruler of the world, blood of the Chief Divine, Ahuizotl, accepts your greeting! Former king of Tarasco."


    Ahuizotl stood erect, his arm motionless, simply nodding lightly. The joy of revenge formed a smile on his lips, filling his chest!


    "Remember your promise, Su¡¯angua Cazonci!"


    "Hmm... King of Mexica, please also remember the promise."


    Ahuizotl nodded slightly. Then, unable to hold back any longer, he finally raised the Divine Staff high and burst into laughter, his laughter brimming with unchecked exhilaration!


    "Haha, hahaha!" S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In front of Ahuizotl, Su¡¯angua slowly knelt down without any coercion from the samurais, nor had he taken any potion!


    "King of Tarasco, Su¡¯angua, offers his submission! The king of Mexica is the ruler of the world! This is the promise of the Chief Divine!"


    The High Priest watched all this intently, then called out loudly. Soon, hundreds of priests repeated it, followed by five thousand samurais, and tens of thousands of citizens. Waves of sound rolled out in succession, accompanied by the shouts of the masses, from the temple at the heart of the capital to the edge of the floating islands in the lake.


    "The king of Mexica is the ruler of the world!"


    Hundreds of thousands of capital citizens were in complete frenzy. Deafening cheers rose from below the pyramid, making Ahuizotl¡¯s smile even more radiant. He laughed while grabbing Su¡¯angua¡¯s hair. Then, his expression became solemn, watching the humiliated and angered eyes of the other, and quietly began to speak.


    "The Sun God is austere, but also merciful. Su¡¯angua, before you journey to the Divine Kingdom, do you have any last words?"


    Upon hearing this, Su¡¯angua closed his eyes, thought silently for a while, before sighing and tearfully reciting.


    "I¡¯ve always compared myself to the Divine Eagle, far from a mediocre fish or mouse, yet my kingdom perished in my hands!...


    Alas, I pilot the great boat swiftly through the water! It breaches and breaks against the rocks, and the storm raises waves. The crocodile opens its mouth to bite back, red sparrows flee in panic. Only the loyal Hummingbird falls before me, its withering wings a pitiful sight...


    Alas, I then knew: it was the intent of the three gods to lead me to ruin, not due to a failure in battle but a destiny that concludes my chapter!"


    Listening to the king¡¯s final poem, Ahuizotl was slightly moved. He waved his hand, and a priest brought paper and pen to quickly jot down the poem.


    "Su¡¯angua, rest assured! Your poem will be immortalized within the epics, along with the Mexica¡¯s feats of war. Now, my old acquaintance, please let me personally send you to the Divine Kingdom!"


    Su¡¯angua nodded. He stripped off his regal garments, removed his traditional Feather Crown, with a calm expression, walked over to the Sacrificial Stone and laid down. Five Elder Priests adeptly held down his limbs, pinning his body. Then Ahuizotl personally lifted the Obsidian Stone Dagger, tracing a dazzling arc!


    "Ah!..."


    In that instant, bright sunlight swiftly dimmed, as the cloudless sky offered no glimpse of its profound depths. Su¡¯angua trembled violently for a moment, then his eyes completely lost focus. His spirit turned into a wisp of smoke, drifting along the profound sky, flying towards the distant Divine Kingdom, toward the departed ancestors...


    "Descendant of the rubber people, the revered and glorious King Su¡¯angua, Divine Descendant of the Tarasco Cazonci lineage Qinchongcan, has gone to the Sun God¡¯s domain!"


    The High Priest¡¯s passionate proclamation echoed through the temple.


    "He left his final verses: ¡¯I will follow the will of the Sun God, bravely face the defeat in godly war. The people of Prepetcha are destined to join the Alliance; this is destiny¡¯s final chapter!... Praise him, the brave king! He converted to the Chief Divine in his last moments and will forever enjoy peace in the Divine Kingdom!¡¯"


    The High Priest¡¯s chant spread far and wide, again triggering a tidal wave of cheers and almost mad praise!


    Ahuizotl watched Su¡¯angua¡¯s rolling corpse, smelled the blood at his nose, and let out a deep, quiet sigh. At that moment, as he looked at his left hand stained with the blood of an old friend, he felt an inexplicable sense of loss, his sentimental moment fleeting.


    "Your Majesty, this poem?..."


    The priest who penned the writing had swiftly documented the High Priest¡¯s version of Su¡¯angua¡¯s final verses. Afterward, he looked at the two different versions, seeking the king¡¯s decision.


    Hearing this, Ahuizotl¡¯s expression became solemn, immediately regaining composure. He pulled the original draft of the poem from the priest¡¯s hand, read it one last time, then gently shook his head, casting it into the roaring Sacred Fire.


    "Record the epics as the High Priest has said, and let it be sung throughout the land!"

 Chapter 572 - 278 New Year’s Grand Ceremony, King’s Will_3

    The following sacrificial rites were just like the past: grand and magnificent, bloody and resplendent, frenetic and unforgettable. The sacrificial ceremonies included the dueling of nobles, the tearful dances of young girls, impersonations of the Chief Divine, and the lake¡¯s harvest tributes¡­ The nobility and royal family of the Patzcuaro Lake region vanished in smoke as the old rulers went to the Divine Kingdom, also taking with them the old dreams of the Tarasco Kingdom.


    The wide plaza erupted in waves of sound. There were the excited cheers of the nobility, the heroic roars of the Samurai, the sincere hymns of the commoners, and the terrified screams of foreigners. As the sun slowly dipped westward, casting a red glow in the sky, the ritual paused temporarily.


    Aweit solemnly lifted the Divine Staff, and the Priests¡¯ chants rang out just in time.


    "The Sun God reveals his red smile. He is pleased with the noble sacrifices!... Now, envoys of the Alliance, pay tribute to the Monarch! All regions under heaven, present gifts to the Monarch!"


    Guided by the Samurai, envoys from the Alliance states stepped forward to present this year¡¯s tributes to the supreme King. As they reached the pyramid, a glance at the raised head of Quiyus invigorated their spirits, proud of the Alliance¡¯s strength; a glimpse of the hanging head of Tepeiter filled them with fear, awestruck by the Monarch¡¯s power.


    Xiuxoke looked solemn, frozen like a statue. The noble envoys from various states of the Alliance walked past him with a gaze that was both reverent and distant. It was not until Balda from the Lake Fief passed by that he paused briefly to bow respectfully to the Deputy Head. Xiuxoke nodded gently in response.


    Following the procession of envoys, Balda ascended the magnificent Great Pyramid. On the middle platform, he presented the tributes of the Lake Fief: a set of sturdy Bronze Medium Armor, a Bronze close-combat dagger, two Brass ceremonial vessels, two boxes of large gleaming pearls, and several ancient artifacts from the Royal Family of Tarasco. Then, an Eagle Warrior took out a thick scroll and handed it to the King¡¯s trusted aide, which recorded the details of the large tributes.


    Soon, Aweit on the pyramid unfurled the scroll. He just glanced over it briefly, and seeing the words "six thousand catties of bronze," he nodded with satisfaction. Thereupon, Balda prostrated on the ground, paying deep homage to the towering High Monarch, before turning back and retracing his steps.


    The tributes from the states of the Alliance were the same as in previous years, categorized into exquisite tributes for the royal family and large tributes paid to the Alliance. Created not long ago, the Lake Fief was very short on food, timber, and stone. Thus, the Alliance¡¯s demands centered around the widely-used copper from the Lake Region.


    Then came the foreign envoys from regions under heaven. They, in various attires, arrived sequentially at the pyramid. A glance at the raised head of Quiyus stirred fear in their hearts, intimidated by the strength of the Alliance; and looking at the hanging head of Tepeiter, their fear turned to dread, horrified by the Mexica¡¯s cruelty.


    According to their relationship with the Alliance, first to present tributes were the loyal vassals, the Quyus and the Vastec. Followed by the disloyal vassal, the Mistec Alliance.


    The Mistec envoy cautiously presented a large wooden plank. Aweit inspected it briefly and nodded slightly. The Mistec not only repaid the tributes overdue from the expedition but also offered additional generous amounts of rainforest feathers, dyes, spices, fruits, gold, and gemstones. With no expression on his face, the King raised the Divine Staff, and the relieved vassal prostrated and performed the ritual.


    The Zapotecs and the Tlapanec did the same. For these disloyal vassals, Aweit had already taken note, although the time for reckoning had not yet come. It wasn¡¯t until the Otapan envoy, representing the Otomi, presented the tributes and humbly paid homage that a faint smile appeared on the Monarch¡¯s face, recalling his long-separated brother.


    "Tizoc, my brother, the Otomi have now submitted to me..."


    After the subjects, came the foreigners. First were the highly regarded people from the Cholula Holy City, followed by the seaside Totonacs.


    "Descendants of the Gum people, Totonac Envoys, present themselves before the Monarch of Mexica, bearing the Gum people ancestor¡¯s inherited Jade Ring! It is a Divine Object from a past Era!"


    The clear chanting sounded high and loud. The High Priest, holding an ancient yellowed Jade Ring aloft, displayed it to all. Then, the Jade Ring was carefully packed into a silver box and stored in the temple as a treasure.


    The Totonac people¡¯s annual tributes were always ancient artifacts. They occupied the ruins of the Olmec civilization, where artifacts were plentiful, and occasionally sold them abroad. These kinds of tributes were beneficial and cost-effective for the Mexica Alliance to accept, compared to the tributes of vast quantities of gold, silver, cotton, spices, and food.


    Moreover, even if the real ancient artifacts had run out, it would be entirely feasible to make new ones. Of course, facing the powerful Alliance, the Totonac people would not risk angering the King by offering fakes; everything they submitted was genuine.


    This year¡¯s grand ceremony was exceptionally elaborate, with envoys from foreign lands numbering in the hundreds, the most in history. Those who ascended the stage to offer tributes included Noble Chiefs from the northern and southern Tekos tribes, Chieftains from the Highland Canine Descendants, Clan Leaders from the eastern Rainforest, and even Mayan merchants acting as envoys!


    The last to offer tributes were envoys from the eastern Tlaxcala people. This was also the first time in decades that Tlaxcala had sent an official Envoy to the Alliance. The Envoy, dressed similarly to the people of Mexica, bowed humbly. He presented precious tributes and then, with both hands, held up a wood plank covered in patterns. Aweit took it to examine, but it was a pictorial album requesting peace.


    "Praise the Mexica War God! Offering treasures and noble ladies, offering the Tarasco princess, withdrawing border legions... bowing down to the ground seeking peace."


    "Haha, all directions come to court, the supreme Monarch of all under heaven!"


    Aweit laughed heartily. At this moment, he was the supreme Monarch dominating all under heaven! The Mexica Alliance controlled a population of four million from various states and tributaries, in addition to nominally subjugating three million people from various tribes, all prospering under his rule! And he, Aweit, was indeed the Great Tlatoani, the lord of seven million people¡¯s realm!


    In the hearty laughter, the King stood atop the Great Temple, gazing at the setting sun. The sky and the ground before him were vast expanses of bright red, much like the Divine Kingdom of the mythical stories. As the embodiment of the Sun God, he looked down upon the "ant-like" masses below, once again lifting the Divine Staff high!


    "Boom, boom, boom!"


    Three cannon shots roared through the heavens, sending off the sun and making countless "ants" kneel and bow down, turning into waves at the feet of the King.


    "I am the embodiment of the Chief Divine, I am the only Monarch, master of the sky, the land, and the lakes!"


    Aweit shouted into the sky, his hand holding the Divine Staff high, his feet over the prostrate masses. His eyes contained two flames wishing to burn across all seas, consuming the entire world!


    Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 573 - 279: The New Sacrifice, Wolf, Deer, and Fish!

    The twilight bled like blood, engulfing the heavens and earth, reminiscent of a river of life converging or flames devouring the sky. The New Year¡¯s festival danced within this river and flames, as jubilant cheers filled the entire capital.


    "Go, little Aviloztli! Take my message to him!"


    Crisp voices called tenderly, and a young golden eagle suddenly soared up! In just moments, it reached an altitude over a thousand meters. It soared into the sky with full wings, bringing the rustle of wind, like a king of the skies, startling the birds over Lake Texcoco.


    Little golden eagle Aviloztli was now three years old. Once a small chick that could be cradled in the palm, it was now a massive creature with a body length over half a meter and a wingspan beyond one and a half meters. Its nimble neck was yellow-brown, and its broad wings dark brown, though it still retained the juvenile white down at the tips of its wings and tail. And at this very moment, tied to its slender eagle legs was a small scroll of cotton cloth bearing a letter.


    "Yo, yo!"


    Aviloztli circled in the sky thousands of meters high, swaying its head proudly, issuing a juvenile joyful cry. Then, widening its pupils, it looked down at the white-robed girl gazing upward, calling out "yo yo" proudly once again.


    After a while, it seemed to finally understand the young girl¡¯s expectations and flew a nostalgic circle before flapping its wings, heading straight for the mountains in the west. The golden eagle¡¯s flying speed could maintain at least 200 li per hour; from the lake capital to Qinchongcan Capital, it took less than four hours. Fearless of threats along the way and capable of long-distance navigation, it was the era¡¯s best messenger!


    Of course, all this depended on whether it truly understood its master¡¯s command.


    In less than a quarter of an hour, Aviloztli reached the mountainous areas in the western part of the Alliance. Looking down from the sky, the layered mountains undulated on the ground, smoke rose from settlements between the mountains, and stone fortresses looked especially tiny. From here going west, crossing the rugged forest, one would reach Xiulote¡¯s fief, the boundary of the Kingdom of the Lake.


    The little golden eagle did not venture further west; the prey here was already abundant. It soared freely in the sky, first spotting a running wild wolf, it reduced its altitude and followed effortlessly, filled with a desire to pounce. The wild wolf sensed the lurking danger, stopped in its tracks and looked up. Shortly after, it howled several times, and several of its kind gathered, together vigilantly staring at the threatening spot in the sky.


    Aviloztli circled cautiously for a long time, but eventually gave up the risky pounce. It continued searching and then spotted a running young elk. Such prey was not too challenging for it. The little golden eagle quickly lowered its altitude, and at 100 meters, swiftly pounced fiercely. The roaring wind from high above rapidly swept down, and its powerful wings knocked down the young elk.


    The little golden eagle extended its sharp claws, forcefully tearing at the neck of its prey. Blood gushed out, accompanying the mournful cries of the elk. After moments of struggle, the elk ceased to move or make a sound. Aviloztli arrogantly raised its head, issuing a "majestic" cry once again.


    "Yo, yo!"


    Then, Aviloztli grasped the elk, vigorously flapping its wings! It struggled on the ground for a while, trying to take the prey with it, but found it impossible to take off. Moments later, the little golden eagle reluctantly set down the heavy elk and flew to a nearby river, pouncing once again!


    This time, Aviloztli caught a fierce and beautiful purple-red fish as a gift for its mistress. Proudly flaunting its catch, it called out joyfully and soared upwards, hastily returning to the lake capital. The letter tied to its feet remained intact, and after hundreds of li back and forth across the sky, it was about to safely return!


    "Yo, yo!..."


    Under the sky hundreds of li away, the New Year¡¯s festival in Qinchongcan Capital also just reached its conclusion.


    Xiuote, dressed in black ceremonial attire, stood at the very top of the Akatla Pyramids. He raised the emerald Divine Staff in his hands, facing the setting sun, and amid the kneeling of tens of thousands of citizens in the capital, he offered the most sacred fire sacrifice to the burning sacred fire.


    The first sacrifice presented was a young coyote, its blood already drained beforehand, and intentionally positioned with its head facing west. In the Mexica animal worship, the coyote was a creature of loyalty and unity with innate divinity. The animal form of God of Death Xiulotel was that of a black wolf howling to the heavens.


    In front of the citizens of the lake, Xiulote cast the divine body of the coyote into the fire, offering it to the departing Sun God, while chanting aloud.


    "Praise the Sun God, I offer you the coyote! It is the companion of the sun, journeying toward the Abyss after sunset!... Praise the Chief Divine! May you take away death and grant us enduring life!"


    After the offering, Xiulote raised the Divine Staff again, and a boiling cheer erupted instantly. Below the pyramid, both the Prepetcha and Mexica people prostrated themselves on the ground, their faces showing sincere joy as they shouted with all their might. Although the burnt smell of fur lingered at his nostrils, the young King took a deep breath and smiled slightly.


    As a Priest King, this was Xiulote¡¯s first time to fully lead the New Year sacrificial rites!


    Based on his family background and the legends of the Alliance, he boldly altered the sacrifices for the New Year celebration. Under his strict demands, the Kingdom of the Lake¡¯s New Year ceremony focused on the Chief Divine, incorporated different customs from both the Alliance and the Kingdom, and replaced human sacrifices with animal ones!


    "Give me enough time, and I can change everything!"


    Xiulote whispered silently, filled with confidence in reshaping civilization. He then took the second sacrifice, a deer shot dead, with its head pointing to the East. In the tradition of the Prepetcha people, the deer stood as a symbol of the Nobility and a pet of the Moon Goddess.


    "Praise the Sun God, I present to You this deer! It is a sprite under the moon, ascending toward the path to the Divine Kingdom when the moon rises!... Praise the Chief Divine! May You bless us with peace and bestow upon us a pleasant afterlife!"


    As the sun set and the moon began to rise, another burst of fervent cheers erupted. In the myths of both tribes, the Moon Goddess held different divine roles, both good and evil, which were now erased in the ceremony, leaving only the common afterlife. And after the sun and moon, came the earth, symbolizing tolerance and vitality.


    Xiulote finally took a river fish, held it high with its head pointing to the ground. In the shared culture of Central America, fish represented the common peasantry, born of the earth and lakes.


    "Praise the Sun God, I present to You this river fish! It is life of the earth, going to the rivers among men after the rain falls!... Praise the Chief Divine! May You grant us blessings, bestowing a bountiful harvest on our fields!"


    "Praise the Chief Divine, grant us a bountiful harvest!"


    As the multitude looked on, Xiulote threw the river fish into the fire. The most intense shouts erupted at this moment! The people of the Lake Region had been troubled by war and famine for nearly two years, with thousands dying from starvation. For them, only a plentiful harvest could quench their deep-seated desire.


    The continuous cheers surged and created waves of sound that reached the heavens. Not until the sun dipped below the horizon did the Lake Region¡¯s New Year ceremony conclude. Next came the grand feast at night. The entirety of Qinchongcan City, and indeed all the residents of the Fief, came together to celebrate. They celebrated the end of the war, and also a hard-won peaceful New Year.


    After a day of hard work, the grand ritual was finally over. Xiulote, maintaining the demeanor of the divine, entered the Temple at the top of the pyramid. He then removed his heavy Ceremonial Dress, changed into a festive robe, and proceeded to the Palace of Wind¡¯s New Year banquet accompanied by Ugus and Mawilo.


    The Envoy from the southern Zicao County had been waiting outside the Palace of Wind for a long time. The banquet circle that evening was small, limited only to the upper layers of the Kingdom. He did not qualify to attend and could only wait there.


    Xiulote kindly reassured the Envoy with a few words, not directly responding to the delicate inquiry about the Fief Issue, and then left under the escort of the High Priest.


    Soon, the young King sat solemnly on the throne in the grand hall of the Palace of Wind. He looked up at the dark sky outside the window, seeming to hear a familiar yet distant cry. The recently sacrificed wolf, deer, and fish flashed through his mind, embedding a prolonged contemplation of the situation.


    "By sacrificing the King of Tarasco, the New Year¡¯s grand ceremony in the Capital City of the Lake will shake the world! All the factions will know the power of the Mexica people, and will perceive the threat of the Alliance¡¯s conquest. ... A new year is about to begin, and a new journey is underway!" sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "For the Alliance, the Tlaxcalans are like the united Coyotes. They are closely connected with the surrounding factions, moving as one. For the Fief, the Chapala Lake Region is like a robust deer. They are delicious prey, only requiring time to hunt, time to digest. And for me, what then is the river fish at arm¡¯s reach?"


    The bright bonfire in the great hall glimmered, and the King¡¯s contemplation sparkled in the firelight. His brow slowly relaxed, as plans of various preparations converged in his mind, forming a continuous serpent.


    Soon, the generals took their seats in order, grouped according to their affiliations. The maids also brought in exquisite dishes and drinks. The fragrant aromas filled the air, and relaxed laughter gently arose. A lavish banquet was about to commence!

 Chapter 574 - 280: Kingdom Banquet, Xiulote Sword Dance!

    The Stone Hall of the Palace of Wind was rustic and solemn, its four walls adorned with ritual vessels passed down through the ages, the ceiling carved with ancient murals, and the Chief Divine¡¯s banners fluttering. The candles within the hall shone brightly, together with the central bonfire, reflecting off the joyous faces of all present, dispelling the deep darkness of the night outside.


    Xiulote sat at the head of the banquet, surrounded by the bright light of the flames, just as he was by the people around him. According to the tradition of the Tribal Alliance, based on their different statuses, everyone took their seats in a roughly circular arrangement.


    At the very center of the head was the supreme young king, to his left was his trusted teacher Olosh, to his right stood the loyal Guard Commander Bertade. Below the king to the left, were the esteemed spiritual priests. Ugus and Mawilo, the two High Priests, in front, followed by Bravo and other mid-level priests. To the right below the king, were the valiant Legion Commanders of the various armies. In keeping with the established customs of the Alliance, they were led by the veteran Etalik, Naval Commander Annatri, the monkey Kuluka, Black Wolf Torc, quartermaster Begire, miner Ezpan... Crocodile Ospai, sky dynasty Family Head Oorta, and at the end, Huitu Puapu. And opposite the king, were the locally born civil officials, headed by Chief Minister Jatili, with Chalape from the Bronze Workshop among them.


    "This is the team I¡¯ve assembled to manage my fief!"


    Xiulote smiled, lifting the Divine Staff in his hand. Soon, bamboo flutes in the band played high, prayerful songs began to resonate, and the hall fell into a respectful silence.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! He is omnipotent, bestowing upon us food, victory, and light!"


    The king was the first to speak.


    "Praise the Chief Divine!"


    The people bowed their heads in prayer, chanting in unison. The deep echo resonated within the great hall, symbolizing the will of the entire fief.


    Then, a group of maids came forward, bringing freshly prepared cocoa. Xiulote once again raised his cup.


    "Let¡¯s drink this cup to the highest Chief Divine, to celebrate, to the king of the Alliance, to celebrate!"


    "To the Chief Divine, to the king, cheers!"


    "Another cup, to celebrate the new year!"


    "To the new year, to His Majesty, cheers!"


    After drinking the holy cocoa, the banquet officially began. The main dishes included fragrant roasted corn cakes, sweetened boiled black bean paste, soft roasted pumpkin, and mildly sweet sweet potatoes. The vegetables were refreshing cold zucchini salad, tender boiled cactus, spicy stewed green beans, and crispy roasted sweet potato.


    Tired from a day¡¯s work, Xiulote was genuinely hungry. He took a piece of the well-roasted cornbread, smeared it with sweet black bean paste, sandwiched a few slices of sweet potato and zucchini, and added some chili sauce, relishing the hearty bites. Only after devouring two soft cakes did the king begin to leisurely savor the variety of fresh fruits.


    Because the climate was tropical, the fruit selection at the banquet was extremely rich, a feast for the palate. There were tangy pineapples, soft and fragrant guavas, sweet and sticky rambutans, ice cream-like mammee apples, slightly intoxicating cactus fruits, soft and sticky purple figs, Jamaica roses resembling hawthorn in texture, and delicious juicy tomatoes.


    Of course, the king¡¯s favorite was the rare black-fleshed persimmon, locally known as chocolate persimmon, which was rarely seen in later times and only grown in Mexico. This black persimmon had a very thin skin, which made it difficult to transport long distances, and the inside was soft like jelly. Once you took a bite, you would be instantly conquered by its stunning taste!


    "The flesh is soft and sweet, like a blend of cream and chocolate, meticulously crafted into a premium soft pudding!"


    Xiulote savored the delicious black persimmon, a sincere look of appreciation on his face. To enjoy such exquisite flavors in the wilderness of the Middle Ancient Times was indeed a rare privilege for an American transmigrator.


    The most popular among the guests was the variety of tasty roasted meats. Large chunks of herb-roasted venison, skewered pineapple-roasted turkey meat, complete barbecued sapote fish... The various meats, aromatic, were accompanied by a selection of seasonings such as chili powder, annatto powder, garlic vine, American parsley, and Mexican caraway. These spices, so prized by Europeans as gold, were common in the lush Central America and widely used in the diet of the nobility.


    Xiulote simply ate two pieces of roasted venison. The meat was tender; one piece glazed with fresh honey, another with chili salt. The sweetness, the spicy salt, two distinct flavors in turn mixed together, making for an endless aftertaste.


    Feeling a bit thirsty by now, the king picked up a cup of tequila from the table and drank freely.


    The banquet offered three types of alcoholic beverages. Tequila was light and formal. Mead was rich, sweet, and the most expensive. Fruit wine varied in flavor depending on the fruit but was less formal and not suitable for toasting others.


    Xiulote raised his cup, and several trustful individuals came forward to toast the king. The young king laughed heartily, not turning anyone down. He sipped gently while merrily watching everyone.


    After a few cups of rice wine, the atmosphere of the banquet began to liven up. People started clinking cups, making loud noises, and toasting each other. The priests, military leaders, and civil officials started by drinking among themselves, followed by individually crossing toasts. Townsfolk, relatives, friends, comrades-in-arms¡ªthey drank in a jumbled group according to all kinds of connections, subtly reducing many barriers among them.


    Xiulote smiled contentedly. For the sake of long-term rule, he encouraged extensive intermarriage between the Mexica and the Prepetcha tribes. He had personally arranged some weddings over the past few months. Bonds of matrimony were gradually established between Mexica warriors and Prepetcha civil officials. The integration of the ethnicities was progressing, the consolidation of the kingdom¡¯s upper layer was underway; it just needed time to complete.


    S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 575 - 280: Kingdom Banquet, Xiulote Sword Dance!_2

    The night was mellow, and the music joyful. The bonfire radiated warmth, and the wine made everyone merry! Unknowingly, the generals had their fill of food and drink. The maids stepped forward again, removing the meal and presenting the sacred cocoa.


    "Your Highness, you are our Marshal, you are our Sun! Please allow your loyal Samurai to perform a dance for you!"


    Black Wolf Torc rose with dignity, speaking on behalf of all the generals. He was the first to reach the center of the banquet, lifting a cup of cocoa, and toasted to His Highness.


    "Very well, my beloved general!"


    Xiulote smiled and nodded, lifting the Divine Staff.


    Soon, the stirring sound of war drums began to resound vigorously. Black Wolf removed his war robe, baring his muscular torso, and with his powerful arms crossed, he began a wild War Dance! His steps matched the rhythm of the drums, and he chanted a heroic poem.


    "Samurai should fight to their hearts¡¯ content! Samurai should sing with abandon!


    We chase the glory of battle, we embrace each other¡¯s shoulders.


    We live with laughter, seeing flowers bloom all over the battlefield!


    Then, we die with laughter, when the flowers and songs cease...


    "


    Xiulote¡¯s expression moved, smiling and nodding. It was a widely known Samurai poem, often sung by many. Yet, only truly bold warriors could capture its essence!


    After the dance had ended, Black Wolf was drenched in sweat. He then strode forward, his muscular lines quivering like a cheetah¡¯s, and suddenly knelt before the King, lifting high a Samurai¡¯s garland.


    "Your Highness, please accept the flowers presented by your generals! Our lives are like fresh flowers, blooming loyally at this moment. We dedicate our lives to you, the supreme Sun!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily, stood up, and took the garland with both hands. He affectionately patted Black Wolf on the shoulder and then looked around at the eagerly watching generals, nodding and smiling at each one.


    "My Samurai, my generals, I will be with you all!"


    At this, the usually stern Marshal Mawilo briefly pondered, then tugged at Ugus¡¯s sleeve.


    Ugus understood, and he too came to the center of the banquet. The intense drumming then turned into the venerable tone of a bone flute. The young High Priest of the Capital City, grave in demeanor, stepped in a mysterious pattern and began a magnificent recitation.


    "Ah, the Sun God descends brilliance, the Chief Divine grants Divine Revelation, spreading his renown across the world.


    That is you, King created by divine spirits! S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    You sing in the Valley, in Tenochtitlan, where the eagles soar.


    You fly in the sky, over the Lake Region of Miken, where the eagle transforms into the Sun!


    Ah, I gaze up at the abode of our Father God, I pray for the Divine Kingdom on earth, and there you are above Snake Mountain...


    "


    Listening to this, Xiulote became solemn. This traditional sacrificial poem, glorifying a divinized subject, was usually dedicated to divinely endowed kings of old. The grand hall fell suddenly quiet, save for the unbroken high recitation echoing, reaching into everyone¡¯s heart. After a moment, Ugus ceased his chanting. He smiled as he approached, offering a piece of Green Jade symbolizing wisdom and eternal life.


    "Praise to the Chief Divine! Esteemed Supreme High Priest, you are an incarnation of divine spirits among us. And we bow to serve you, as though we serve the divine spirits themselves!"


    "Praise to the Chief Divine! High Priest Ugus, thank you for your poem! The future of the Fief cannot be divorced from the Priest of the Alliance. The glory of the Chief Divine will surely spread across the world!"


    The two exchanged glances briefly, smiling and acknowledging each other. Xiulote then turned towards Mawilo, who bowed respectfully in return.


    Jatili had been silently observing the whole time. He pondered for a while before slowly taking an item from Chalape, and walked to the center of the hall.


    "Your Majesty, this old servant is not adept at singing and dancing."


    The learned elder smiled and bowed. Xiulote stood up and solemnly returned the gesture.


    "Respected Sage, you are an elder of the Prepetcha people, please, no need for such formality."


    "Your Majesty, you possess the far-sight of an eagle, the will of a lion-tiger, the patience of a Coyote, and the kindness of a turtle. You treat the citizens of the Lake Region well, and you are our King, bestowed upon us by the Sun God... This old servant, representing millions of Prepetcha people, wishes to bow at your feet, offering you our loyalty!"


    Jatili¡¯s demeanor turned solemn. Before everyone, he prostrated deeply, paying his respects to the King at the head of the hall.


    "Ah! Sage..."


    Xiulote hurried forward two steps, bending down to help the learned elder up. He earnestly advised.


    "Sage, I treat you with the respect due to a teacher, please do not do this!"


    At this, Jatili gave a small smile. He held up a long wooden case, presenting it to the young monarch in front of him.


    "Your Majesty, the people of Prepetcha wish to be your wings, to soar into the sky! This is the Bronze Weapon commissioned by Chalape to be forged!"


    "Inspired by the obsidian sharp fragments and the handle of the war club, he mixed the sturdy tin of the sword spine with the sharp tin of the sword blade, combining the strengths of both, and adding fragments of the Divine Kingdom that fell from the sky, forging a sharp and durable Divine Weapon..."


    "Offered to you, my Majesty! Both tolerant and strict, kind and resolute, this is truly a weapon for a King!"


    Xiulote paused at this. He received the wooden case and opened it himself. An eight-sided Qin Sword, three feet long, immediately appeared before him. The sharp blade glinted coldly while the polished durable spine shone brightly, and the gold-plated handle glittered, with two pictographs engraved on it.


    The King examined it closely, the pictograph on the front like a bolt of lightning, symbolizing the inscrutable power of the divine spirit; the one on the back was a figure of a person, arms spread in a powerful pose. Clearly, these represented the divine spirit and the king. And the meaning of these two characters, found in similar Oracle Bone Script, was...

 Chapter 576 - 280: Kingdom Banquet, Xiulote Sword Dance!_3

    ```


    "Divine... Summer..."


    Xiulotte murmured to himself, chanting these two words softly. An odd sense of destiny surged through his heart in an instant, as if carrying a power that could shake the soul. Moments later, facing the crowd, he lifted the three-foot Qin Sword and solemnly announced in a loud voice.


    "By the Chief Divine¡¯s witness! This is the Divine Summer Sword! My King¡¯s sword!"


    "Generals, play music for me!"


    At the King¡¯s command, everyone obediently followed. Olosh blew the bamboo flute, Ugus sounded the Bone ocarina, and Toltec beat the war drum. The fluttering flute, the desolate ocarina, and the rousing drumbeat resounded together in the Stone Hall, accompanied by the chorus of the generals.


    Xiulotte stood in the center of the great hall, slowly drawing the sharp treasure sword. He gently traced the Sword Spine with the pad of his finger, turbulent emotions swirling in his chest, countless memories flooding his mind, all finally turning into the verses he recited.


    "The treasure sword is born with a pure intent, a single purpose through ten springs."


    The King gazed upward slightly. He remembered the pure feelings when he first came to this world, and the child with clear eyes in the Butterfly Palace.


    "I fall from the pyramid, I come from the Butterfly Palace. I bring a pure heart, like the spring water of spring."


    At these words, Olosh¡¯s expression changed. Having watched the boy grow up, many memories were naturally indelible.


    "Once I mistakenly drank the blood of the mortal world, henceforth murderous intent accompanies me,"


    Xiulotte lowered his eyes, his left hand making a blocking gesture while his right arm thrust forward the long sword. This was the motion of his first kill, something he couldn¡¯t forget for a long time.


    "I swung my weapon, I became a Samurai stained with blood. I silently prayed to the War God, knowing that from then on, death would ensue!"


    "Dragon chants stir the shallow depths as the sword in the sheath longs to sweep across."


    Xiulotte circled the sword around his chest, making a gesture of sheathing the sword. He recalled the time trapped in Tizoc¡¯s army, and his first meeting with Aweit, their shared discussions and aspirations. In those days, it was dragon met sword, and King met King.


    "I¡¯ve experienced the first battle, I¡¯ve held a funeral for the divine. I am the fledgling eagle just out of the nest, in pursuit of sacred glory!"


    Bertade¡¯s eyes deepened. After a while, he clenched his fist to his chest and bowed his head in salute. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Soaring to the zenith of the blue mist, standing tall above all with the strength of heaven and earth!"


    Xiulotte stepped forward and swung his sword forcefully. The three years of carnage flashed across his mind.


    The first ambush he encountered, the first time he led an army to chase a King; the dialogue in the stone chamber with the elder and the life-and-death pledge with Chief Priest Quetzal; the first time he led a legion on a western conquest, from the North Coast Wooden Fort to Lake Yuriria, from the Rivermouth fortress to the Takuro Plains, from the battle of Kings to Qinchongcan¡¯s downfall...


    "I¡¯ve met many opponents, I¡¯ve withstood the trials of the divine. I¡¯ve cut through brambles and thorns, emerging from life and death unto a grand avenue!"


    The generals fell silent for a moment, then erupted in unanimous cheers. Having followed their invincible prince through several brutal battles, they naturally shared the same sentiment.


    "Riding the sword to ascend to true enlightenment, alone atop the eastern peak unlocking heaven¡¯s gate."


    Xiulotte stood erect like a pine, lifting the long sword above his head before lowering it again into his hand. He remembered the grand investiture ceremony, the excitement of ruling a territory, and his heart full of bold aspirations.


    "I captured the old King, I ascended the throne of the Lake Region. Amidst the ruins of the Kingdom, I built a brand new nation!"


    At these words, Jatili was the first to bow, and everyone else paid deep homage, submitting to the King.


    Seeing his subjects submit, Xiulotte laughed heartily. Years of training as a Samurai had made his body flexible and robust. His sword dance became more intense, whistling through the air, and then suddenly retracted!


    The young King turned, facing the setting sun in the West. The bygone era lay five hundred years in the past, his distant homeland twenty thousand miles away. Everything was far away, all once an illusion. To him, all that was real, all that existed, was only this realm, only this home.


    Xiulotte exhaled deeply. In an indecipherable language, he chanted a trance-like prayer.


    "Sudden clear skies, sudden rains, sudden winds arise,


    At times bright, at times dim, through several autumns pass.


    The roc flies twenty thousand miles, the sword is lost in the furnace, descending to the Nine Netherworlds.


    The floating bridge forgets worldly matters, adrift in the vast forgotten river.


    The endless evening swept by wind from heaven and earth, gazing at the dawn¡¯s light, a speck in the void."


    The King gently wiped the long sword, intoning four lines of deep poetry in a sonorous voice. Soon, Alisa¡¯s beautiful smile appeared in his mind, followed by the vast, fluctuating terrain of the world map etched in his heart!


    "...Seeing the flowers bloom without seeing the leaves, a sword¡¯s cold light crosses fifty states!"


    Xiulotte murmured for a moment before suddenly looking up at the sky. The history of future generations appeared before his eyes, only to be reduced to ashes by the fiery rage in his gaze. Under the euphoria of wine, he suddenly thrust his sword into the Eastern sky! This thrust, with a resolute will, regardless of the passage of time; this thrust, with a final determination, no matter what life held!


    "I came to this realm, bearing the divine promise. I am destined to rule over all, to reign over the continent at my feet!"


    ```

 Chapter 577 - 281: Long-standing Hope, Divine Might University and Divine Revelation Place

    ```


    Time flowed like a river, sometimes with turbulent waves, sometimes calm and unruffled, yet only memories settled in the passage of time, glittering as we look back.


    The festival day¡¯s banquet eventually concluded with a delightful intoxication. The King brandished his sword and recited poetry, expressing his contentment and leaving an unforgettable impression upon all who watched.


    Soon, ten days had passed in a flash. Under the tireless efforts of the Prepetcha painters, the grandeur of the New Year¡¯s grand ceremony and the night banquet was carved into the stone walls of the Palace of Wind, with the King¡¯s poems also inscribed alongside for the Capital City¡¯s poets to recount. The murals also depicted scenes of people offering dances, Sages prostrating in respect, and the presentation of the "divine summer" sword to the King. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Two copies of these murals would be made, one to be placed in the College of Divine Might Priests and the other in the Divine Revelation Place for future generations to admire. They served as a testament to the King¡¯s rule over the Lake Region and a symbolic representation of the elite of Prepetcha¡¯s loyalty and official integration into the Alliance.


    After the New Year, the College of Divine Might Priests officially commenced operation. Xiulote personally presided over the opening ceremony of the Divine Might College and left behind his own handwritten original religious scriptures, the Book of Ama Colley. Regardless of how broad the college¡¯s future was in Xiulote¡¯s long-term plans, the initial steps were but small budding sprouts.


    The first class of students, barely a hundred people, consisted mainly of the Prepetcha Priests who had pledged allegiance to the Alliance and a few local youngsters who were recommended. Their training focused on the role of frontline administrators, the Preaching Priests.


    The curriculum for the Preaching Priests included Mexica language as the official language, foundational modern scripts; then revised histories of the Alliance, mythic promises of the Chief Divine; followed by the fundamental scriptures, the Book of Ama Colley, common sacrificial rites; and finally, the religious laws of the Alliance, as well as new political reforms in the Lake Region such as registered households, military and civilian settlements, military promotion by merit, and land and title grants.


    After a year of short-term study, they would officially become low-level officials of the Alliance. The majority would govern fiefdom villages as First Level Priests; a very few old Priests from the Lake Region would attain the status of Second Level Priest and involve themselves in the administration of larger towns. Overall, being admitted to the Priest College meant entering the fast track, securing a significant opportunity for social mobility and advancement.


    While the school¡¯s first batch of students had just started their courses, the selection for the second batch was already underway within the army. The second batch would consist of about two hundred students, primarily training to become War Priests.


    Seventy percent of these students would hail from the temporary War Priests elevated during the western campaign, including outstanding commoner samurai youths, while thirty percent would come from the exceptional ranks of the surrendered Prepetcha army. The training would last one to two years; besides literacy, theology, and ecclesiastical law, they would learn martial arts from seasoned samurai and master small unit tactics. In Xiulote¡¯s plan, they would provide the foundation for a base of officers throughout the ongoing military reforms.


    In general, the Priest College¡¯s current curriculum focused on literature, theology, ecclesiastical law, politics, and the military, and would later include herbs, another area of expertise for the Priests. During his spare time, Xiulote began to write a book, recalling the textbooks he had once studied, in an endeavor to compile an introductory text on natural sciences, to sow the seeds of rational thinking. Of course, everything was done in the name of the divine, explained through the language of divinity.


    The Divine Revelation Place in Qinchongcan City was also formally established after the new year. Under direct jurisdiction of the King, the new Divine Revelation Place¡¯s headquarters was set up near the Royal Mansion in the palace district of the Capital City, strictly guarded and of high standard. Free from the confines of the old Alliance system in the Lake Capital City, the new Divine Revelation Place grew like a vigorous American bison, bounding freely throughout the Kingdom, its corpulent form expanding ever larger.


    As the most important research and production center, the Kingdom¡¯s Divine Revelation Place trained Divine Revelation Priests and integrated the newly arrived Mexica craftsmen with the old craft guilds of the Kingdom, effectively controlling multiple significant bureaus and residences.


    First was the Mining and Metallurgy Bureau, led by Necali, with advisors from the Metal Family assisting, responsible for managing the Qinganbate mining region southwest of the Capital City, including the area¡¯s coke and copper smelting workshops. The mining area was tasked with regular deliveries of coke and copper materials to the Capital City and reporting on recent production matters.


    Then came the Gunpowder Bureau. Esko, who remained at the Lake Capital City, and was highly valued by Aweit, left only Talaya to come to the Lake Region, becoming the Director of the Gunpowder Bureau. The bureau included the saltpeter production pools in the eastern part of the fief and a gunpowder workshop and testing ground on a small island in Lake Patzcuaro.


    It was currently the season for saltpeter collection, and large-scale saltpeter production and evaporation were underway. Xiulote summoned the chief salt worker, Moreno, and held a personal audience. Moreno was respectfully submissive, with clear speech and an excellent grasp of the saltpeter-making process. Having toiled away on Heavenly Fire Island for three arduous years, even the fierceness in his bones was diminished significantly, making him now eminently capable. The King appointed him as the head official responsible for saltpeter production, overseeing thousands of related laborers.


    Within the Capital City, there were the Manufacturing Department and the Military Manufacturing Department, both divisions of the grand craft guild of the Kingdom.


    The Manufacturing Department was in charge of producing cotton fabric, clothing, pottery, woodwork, stone artifacts, jade artifacts, gold and silverware, and common copper items; it had the authority to manage various types of civilian manufacturing and could, when necessary, conscript craftsmen from all regions to serve the Royal Family. It was imperative that the manager of the Manufacturing Department was well-acquainted with the situation of the Kingdom and maintained connections with leaders from each industry, with a preference for employing local experienced officials.


    ```

 Chapter 578 - 281: Long-standing Hope, Divine Might University and Divine Revelation Place_2

    After some deliberation, Xiulote chose a local noble recommended by the Chief Jatili as the Director, Sulata. The King had met with him once, asked some practical questions about production and management, and nodded in satisfaction.


    In the Prepetcha language, "Sulata" means cotton. As the name suggests, the title Sulata represents an ancient family that has been involved in cotton weaving for generations. Sulata was around forty years old, always cautious and meticulous. When the city fell, he hid among the group of craftsmen he usually managed to evade the search of the Mexica legion. He had been kind and well-regarded by his family, so none of the craftsmen betrayed him, and he luckily escaped the wrath of the war club.


    The Military Production Bureau was responsible for the manufacture of military equipment, including traditional war clubs, shields, bronze axes, copper spears, leather armor, as well as the newer longbows, heavy crossbows, bronze cloth armor, and the bronze cannons being manufactured.


    The Director of the Military Production Bureau was Kushinji, a bowyer from the Mexica, while the Deputy Director was the local technician bureaucrat, Chalape. The old carpenter Kuode was highly valued within the Alliance, in charge of the center of craftsmen, and naturally would not come to serve in the fief in the Lake Region. On the other hand, Kushinji refused to be subordinate to his old rival and came to the Lake Region to set up his own establishment. The King thus gladly accepted him and entrusted him with a significant role.


    Under the Military Production Bureau, there were two other heavily invested manufacturing bureaus. One was the Bow and Crossbow Bureau, headed by the Prepetcha bowyer Kundili, and the other was the Bronze Bureau, led by the Master Caster Tilipi.


    Tilipi was now busy day and night, living in the Bronze Workshop. As the deadline for the bronze cannons approached, his pressure increased, and he often erupted in rage at the craftsmen. When Xiulote summoned the spies placed in the workshop and learned of the difficult progress of the cannon casting, he prepared to discreetly grant them some more time. In the coming February, the King would go north to ally with the Otomi people, jointly confronting the southward raids of the Chichimeca Canine Descendants. It would be at least two or three months before he returned to the Capital City to oversee spring plowing.


    Outside the Capital City, there were also the Construction Bureau, the Printing Bureau, and the Special Trade Goods Bureau.


    The Construction Bureau had workshops for charcoal burning and brickmaking and supervised over a thousand laborers. The Director of the Construction Bureau was Koskachi, the head of the charcoal workers from the Alliance. This gravel-voiced foreman, actually sharp and astute, had not hesitated to follow the Priesthood here to join the independent prince. Xiulote admired him and needed trustworthy personnel, so he entrusted the construction responsibilities to him.


    The Printing Bureau was in charge of both papermaking and printing workshops. The Director of the Printing Bureau was the young priest Xipak, who oversaw papermaking, and the Deputy Director was the Mexica jade craftsman Aquila, in charge of printing. Hmm, they were all old acquaintances of Xiulote. As long as they continued to follow the prince, no matter what their origins were, they would find a shortcut to career development!


    At this moment, hundreds and thousands of religious texts and legal documents were continually produced by the Printing Bureau, spreading the faith and will of the Alliance at a rate beyond the imagination of the rest of the world. Therefore, this department had actual propaganda capabilities.


    Considering long-term planning, the King decided to list the Printing Bureau separately under his direct control. In the future, the Printing Bureau would keep rising in significance and expand its outreach to truly take on the responsibilities of propaganda and education.


    The Special Trade Goods Bureau, or simply the Trade Bureau, was tasked with the manufacture of special trade goods. The Trade Bureau only had a rough framework for now, managed by the head stonemason Losano, who owned a highly secretive glass workshop.


    Losano had been making glass for three full years and, after obtaining the newly made charcoal, finally made an initial breakthrough: following the prince¡¯s hint, he added lead ore and barite to the quartz sand and successfully produced slightly transparent lead glass!


    Upon receiving the good news, Xiulote joyfully put aside his administrative work and hurried to the workshop at sunset. In the glow of the setting sun, glass beads of various sizes, in a shallow green hue, sparkled with a splendid glow, colorful and magnificent, clear and dazzling. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The King was taken aback for a moment, picking up the glass bead to examine it closely. This glass was completely different from what he had expected, with low transparency, light and brittle texture, and insufficient durability... but the color was very attractive, more akin to the ancient glassware from the early periods of the Celestial Empire.


    "Losano, this glass... still falls short of my requirements," said the prince, frowning as he looked toward the stonemason leader, who was beaming with happiness.


    Confronted with his prince¡¯s gaze, Losano¡¯s knees went weak, and he trembled all over.


    He had spent these three years studying colorless glass, burning innumerable stones, sands, and ores, making little progress and nearly burning out his hair. Meanwhile, the prince had been accumulating countless military achievements outside, with a divine might that seemed almost mythological. Now, the prince before him exuded a majestic air without anger, no longer the young noble he had first met, but a sovereign ruler whose mere gaze could make one tremble.


    In a flurry of thoughts, the head stonemason clenched his teeth hard. He cautiously approached the King and whispered.


    "Your Highness, I, Losano, think... these shallow green glass beads... resemble the precious emeralds of the world..."


    "Hmm?!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression changed, his eyes flickered. After pondering a while, he thought of the Kingdom¡¯s efforts to maintain a vast legion, the ever-great military expenses, and the rapidly depleting savings of the treasury... After a while, the King lowered his gaze and asked in a deep voice.

 Chapter 579 - 281: Long-standing Hope, Divine Might University and Divine Revelation Place_3

    "Losano, can you burn other colors of...gemstones?"


    "Your Highness, if I mix in different crystal stones and metals, I, Losano, should be able to do it!"


    Xiulote didn¡¯t speak; he simply nodded slightly. Patting Losano on the shoulder, he turned and left.


    The next day, hundreds of loyal Samurai arrived at the glass workshop, controlling every apprentice and guarding the place so tightly that not even air could escape. Accompanying the Samurai was a Royal Decree elevating Losano to hereditary nobility.


    Soon after, the special trade department under Divine Revelation was quietly established, directly under the King himself. Then, the news that "divine blessings upon the Kingdom of the Lake, a massive gemstone mine discovered in the Patzcuaro Lake region" began to spread among the people. Days later, the first batch of Emeralds from the Lake Region, exclusively sold by the Royal merchants, entered the market in limited quantities, continuously traded to foreign merchants in exchange for a large amount of food and supplies.


    These Emeralds were not large in size but shone brilliantly, with a hint of crystal clear flow, resembling water ripples, hence they were also called "Lake Green Jade." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Many foreign merchants, based on this name, concluded that the gems must originate from within Lake Patzcuaro. Some merchants, risking discovery by the Kingdom¡¯s navy, searched the vast Great Lake for the source, hoping to engage in private trade directly with the miners. They all returned empty-handed, merely leaving several lives behind in the process.


    Summing up, the Mining and Metallurgy Bureau, Gunpowder Bureau, Manufacturing Department, Military Construction Department, Construction Department, Printing Bureau, and the special trade department ¨C these five bureaus and two departments now oversaw the majority of the Fief¡¯s production sectors, controlling tens of thousands of craftsmen and laborers, and making Divine Revelation increasingly powerful.


    As the Chief Priest of the Lake District, Xiulote naturally took on the role of head of Divine Revelation. In his plan, Divine Revelation, an institution similar to the Ministry of Works, focusing on production and research and development, would gradually grow into a true behemoth, becoming the driving force for the development of the entire Kingdom and also an important source of power in the hands of the King.


    Therefore, the deputy director of Divine Revelation, who compiled various matters, must be selected primarily for loyalty. Xiulote hesitated for a long time, finally choosing Talaya, who had always followed him faithfully and was deeply in love with him. The King knew that once she took on such an important position...she would be bound to serve the crown in solitude for her entire life.


    "Talaya, are you willing to dedicate your life to the Chief Divine?"


    In the dim Stone Hall, Xiulote¡¯s demeanor was calm, but his gaze deeply set on Talaya. After being separated for a long time, time passed like a clear stream, washing away the flames in the girl¡¯s eyes, yet leaving behind a more enduring perseverance.


    Talaya smiled. Looking at the divine-like Highness before her, she nodded vigorously without hesitation.


    "I am willing, my Sun God! I am willing to offer everything for you!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was complex, and he nodded slightly. Then, he turned and strode towards the exit of the Stone Hall. The sound of running footsteps followed him immediately. He paused slightly and then felt a tight hug from behind. The King shook his head, about to free himself, but then he heard a soft whisper.


    "Your Highness, it¡¯s been three years...just a moment...a moment...that¡¯s all..."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote stiffened, standing still. After a long moment, he left the Stone Hall calmly, leaving behind a lone silhouette gazing after him.


    "A true King aspires to the whole world, with a heart like solid iron, never to be softened by private feelings...and I am only just starting out!"

 Chapter 580 - 282 The First Kingdom Army Reform

    Busy days always fly by, and in the blink of an eye, the start of February arrived. Fresh sprouts emerged on ancient trees outside the Palace of Wind, greeting the increasingly warm and splendid sunshine. A gentle north wind blew, and throughout Qinchongcan City, prayers of devotion filled the air. The citizens of the Capital City sang the glory of the Chief Divine, as if still in the midst of New Year¡¯s festivities.


    The New Year¡¯s grand ceremony brought together numerous generals, and many army officers were also in the Capital City. Seizing this opportunity, Xiulote summoned all his trusted leaders in turn, sought the advice of many Great Generals, and took lessons from certain historical experiences. Finally, he compiled a reform plan for the legion and called the assembly of generals to officially announce it in the Kingdom!


    The new legion reform proposal included two parts, the first being the standardization of the military system: establishing accurately graded military ranks and clarifying the composition of each level of troops. The second part, which drew more attention, was the reorganization of the troops: the reorganization of the Kingdom Legion and the determination of the positions of the generals.


    Xiulote had engaged in military affairs for many years and had long contemplated the Alliance¡¯s military system. This plan had actually been brewing in his heart for a long time. However, legion reform was a matter of great importance and could not be undertaken lightly. He had waited until now, when the Kingdom¡¯s political situation was largely stable, to find a suitable opportunity to implement it.


    The first part of the legion reform was to standardize the military system, generally following the ¡¯five-two¡¯ method of military organization.


    First, ¡¯ten¡¯ is a number that can be counted on two hands, and thus, 10 men made one group, which was the smallest unit of troops, led by a group leader. Each group of ten shared a single-wheeled cart for their baggage. Two groups of 20 men formed a small team with a team leader. This was the customary number for Alliance Scout small teams, often represented by four hands. Group leaders and team leaders were undertaken by Samurai of the second to fourth level, serving as the most basic non-commissioned officers.


    Next, five teams made up a company of 100 men, led by a Centurion. Two companies formed a battalion of 200 men, led by a bi-centurion. A battalion of 200 men was typically used as a standard tactical unit, capable of effectively executing basic tactical tasks such as assaults, raids, encirclements, and occupations. Centurions and bi-centurions were usually fourth-level experienced Samurai and Nobility with military achievements, forming the backbone of the Kingdom¡¯s legions and mid-level officers of the troops.


    From the company of one hundred men upwards, each level of organization added a War Priest and a Military Doctor, comparable to an adjutant at the same level. The War Priest was responsible for daily prayers, pre-war mobilization, and post-war funerals. The role of the Military Doctor was to prevent epidemics in the army, distribute medicinal herbs for treating diseases, and provide treatment for the wounded after battles. Military Doctors were held by experienced Samurai or Priests knowledgeable about herbs.


    Further up, five battalions made up a battalion of 1000 men, and the battalion commander was the Chiliarch. A battalion of 1000 men was the standard unit of regional garrison. According to Alliance tradition, the commander of a Chiliarch battalion corresponded to Nobility with significant military achievements or lesser experienced hereditary Nobility.


    Each battalion of 1000 men, depending on its equipment and personnel, had different tendencies, generally divided into Close Combat Camps and long-range camps. The Close Combat Camps typically employed formations with Spears or War Clubs, generally requiring shields, and were equipped with a certain proportion of Battle Axes. Long-range camps were equipped with Longbows, powerful crossbows, or more commonly, Throwing Spears. Also within the same battalion-level organization was the yet-to-be-formed Artillery Camp.


    Lastly, 4-8 battalions of 1000 men each formed a Kingdom Legion. A legion was the Kingdom¡¯s strategic unit, and the Legion Commander was truly a role of great responsibility. A legion of 4000 men was known as a small legion, while an 8000-man Xiquipilli was a fully-formed large legion. A Legion Commander required at least the title of hereditary Nobility and was one of the most important figures in the Kingdom¡¯s military and political hierarchy.


    From the 10-man group, 20-man team, 100-man company, 200-man battalion, 1000-man battalion, to the 4000-8000 man legion, from the newly added Priests and Military Doctors, to the differentiation of the 1000-man battalions, the new military system clarified the traditional tribal composition, unified the numbers of troops at each level, and helped increase the control of the generals over the armies.


    In fact, the new military reform did not cause any controversy, and with just a decree from the King, all generals bowed in obedience.


    After standardizing the military system, the second part of the reform was the reorganization of the Kingdom Legion. The Mexica legion, Tarasco Surrendered Army, and the soldiers from the various Tribes all had to undergo dispersal and integration, unified under the same banner of the Black Wolf.


    The organization and size of a legion directly affected the power and position of the generals. Only with the supreme authority of the King and under the condition of most Samurai¡¯s obedience, was it possible to effectively reorganize the armies. The news of the legion¡¯s reorganization caused quite a bit of politicking among the generals.


    Xiulote met continuously with Great Generals, summoned his confidants, and soothed the officers at all levels. It was not until late February that the King solidified the specific legion organization.


    Before the reorganization, the Kingdom¡¯s military force numbered up to sixty-seven thousand. Among those, the direct Mexica legion comprised of over fourteen thousand men, the farmland garrisoning Tarasco Surrendered Army was about fifty thousand strong, and there were an additional two to three thousand scattered Tecos Tribe and Chichimec Tribe soldiers.


    More than half of the Tarasco Kingdom¡¯s maximum mobilized legions were successively inherited by the Fief within the lake. However, for the combined population of over six hundred thousand in the three counties of the Fief, this ratio of soldiers to citizens was certainly unsustainable in the long run. Thus, this reorganization of the legions naturally also involved a reduction of the military force.


    A gentle wind swayed the torches, and the grand hall was solemn and silent, with only the faint rustling of Armor friction. Xiulote sat high upon the throne, before him a dense crowd of commanding officers, all standing in silent reverence.


    "The Royal Decree: establish the Royal Guard Legion, totaling 6000 men. Under its command are the Copper Armor Personal Army of 2500 men, the Powerful Crossbow Guard of 1500 men, and the Vanguard Throwing Spear of 2000 men. The Legion Commander is a distinguished Noble, the sacred Eagle Warrior, the Head Warrior, Bertade!"


    S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 581 - 282 The First Kingdom Army Reform_2

    Bertade¡¯s expression was tranquil as he stepped forward and knelt to pay homage. Xiulote, with a solemn expression, bestowed upon him a scepter signifying the rank of Legion Commander, along with a brand-new Commander¡¯s weapon, a Qing-style bronze sword.


    "The Imperial Guard Legion shall raise the Royal Flag of the Black Wolf. Hold my scepter to command for me; wield my long sword to strike down my enemies!"


    "Your Highness, I am prepared to die for you."


    Bertade bowed deeply. His brief words carried immense strength.


    "Bertade, my Head Warrior, the Copper Armor Personal Army will be under your direct command, accompanying me day and night. My safety is entrusted to you!"


    "Your Highness, I shall surely die before you."


    The Head Warrior stated affirmatively.


    Xiulote nodded slightly and touched the Head Warrior¡¯s hair.


    Three months ago, the Imperial Guard Legion began drafting elite warriors from various tribes, and by now, it was fully formed. The six thousand warriors of the legion would be fully detached from other duties. These elite samurai would maintain intense daily training and undergo religious cleansing by the Priests, always prepared for the holy war.


    The core of the Copper Armor Personal Army consisted of 2,500 soldiers, including 500 heavy-armored Jaguar warriors and 2,000 medium-armored Longbow trusted aides. The Copper Armor Personal Army would always be by the King¡¯s side, safeguarding the safety of the King. Under the protection of the new copper armor, the combat capability of this elite personal army would surpass any other imperial guards, sufficient to handle sudden attacks by tens of thousands.


    "Life is but fifty years, as if a dream or a fantasy... Being a King, how crucial it is to have proper guards by your side!"


    This distant thought momentarily crossed the King¡¯s mind. He paused briefly, then solemnly continued to issue decrees.


    "Imperial Guard Legion, Powerful Crossbow Squad of 1,500 men, led by the hereditary nobility, the Eagle Warrior Balda!"


    Balda had just returned from the Capital City. Upon hearing the Royal Decree, he stepped forward with a reverent expression, bowing deeply on one knee. As an envoy from the lake-enclosed fiefdom, a new obsidian necklace bestowed by King Aweit shimmered around his neck in the firelight.


    The Powerful Crossbow Guard, using Stirrup Crossbows, belonged to the Temple Guards of the devoutly Religious Legion, proficient in both ranged and melee combat. This elite battalion of crossbowmen was originally led by the veteran Etalik. However, since Etalik had gone to sit in Zicao County in the south, Xiulote had appointed Balda to lead this elite guard squad.


    Balda had long followed the King. He had not shown prominent military talents nor extraordinary martial arts skills; he was merely an ordinary warrior. However, his compliance and extensive experience had eventually paid off, earning him a position among the senior generals. With the Imperial Guard¡¯s rank being half a grade higher than that of regular legions, his experience and seniority were sufficient to command a small army of four thousand.


    "Vanguard Throwers, 2,000 men, led by the hereditary nobility, the Black Wolf Torc!"


    Upon hearing the Royal Decree, Black Wolf Torc stepped up to the altar silently, bowing his head to accept the command.


    The Vanguard Throwers, in reality, were tribal warriors skilled in hurling Clay Tribulus, selected from the Tekos and Chichimec tribes. These barbarian warriors, clad in light armor and armed with short spears, were fierce, agile, and fearless. They could swiftly run across the battlefield, hurling explosive Clay Tribulus and javelins fitted with bronze spearheads. Based on the troop¡¯s characteristics, they were utilized for constant mobile harassment or in highly lethal siege engagements.


    Torc was bold and brash, with exceptional courage, making him the ideal candidate to lead these barbaric soldiers. However, Black Wolf himself was not satisfied with this position. His distinguished military achievements in the western campaign qualified him to command an entire legion. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote had pondered for a long time and decided to refine his favorite subordinate¡¯s temperament and improve his abilities before making significant use of him. Thus, the King had placed Torc in the Imperial Guard Legion, instructing Black Wolf to patiently follow Bertade and earnestly learn the strategies of commanding troops.


    "Royal Decree: Establish the Jingji Legion, totaling 8,000 men. Under its command, 3,000 Mexica warriors, 2,000 Sky warriors, 2,000 Qinchongcan warriors, and 1,000 Qinganbate warrior battalion. The Legion Commander will be the noble Olosh, the Holy City Head Warrior!"


    Olosh, resolute in expression, solemnly bowed to the ground. Xiulote likewise bestowed upon him a scepter and a bronze sword.


    "The Jingji Legion shall raise the flag of the Divine Eagle. Olosh, the core hinterland of the fief, Qinchongcan¡¯s Capital City, all are entrusted to you now!"


    "Your Highness, as long as I am here, I will certainly keep our Capital City¡¯s old home secure!"


    Olosh clenched his fist against his chest, forcefully patting it. Seeing this familiar gesture, Xiulote smiled.


    "Teacher Olosh, when you handle things, I am always at ease. The Mexica warrior group will be personally led by you, with all Holy City warriors included within it. I will allocate enough bows and arrows. Train the warriors well, let them master basic archery skills to reduce casualties during war... Teacher, only when the Capital City is entrusted to you, can I truly be at ease!"


    The King whispered a few words with a smile before once again returning to solemnity as he continued to issue orders.


    "Sky warriors, 2,000 men, led by the hereditary nobility, Sky Family Head, Oorta! Qinchongcan warriors, 2,000 men, led by the hereditary nobility, Huitu Family Head, Puap! Qinganbate warrior battalion, 1,000 men, led by the military nobility, Mining and Metallurgy Bureau Director, Necali!"


    The three men stepped forward to accept their commands simultaneously. Oorta respectfully bowed, Puap was beaming with joy, and Necali suppressed the excitement within him, casting a glance at the King at the high table and then at the surrounding great generals. After more than a decade in the military, he had finally reached the ranks of high-ranking officers.


    "I have finally ascended to the great hall, even if as the chief of miners..."

 Chapter 582 - 282 The First Kingdom Army Reform_3

    Necali¡¯s heart churned as he maintained a solemn demeanor in his salute.


    "Your Highness, I wish to be your wings, to live for your will!"


    "Excellent! Armed with the War Club, fight for me and serve the Alliance. The light of the Chief Divine will shine upon you!"


    Xiulote in turn grasped the hair of the three men, offering a few words of serious encouragement.


    Within the Jingji Legion, half were Mexica Samurai and half were Prepetcha warriors. The Prepetcha warriors were selected from the Surrendered Army and divided into the Oorta and Puap factions. The Sky warriors came from the Chapala Lake Region, and the Qinchongcan warriors from around the Capital City, unfamiliar with each other. The design and arrangement of this legion inherently included a certain balance.


    "Royal Decree: Establish the Kingdom¡¯s First Pike Legion, totaling 8000 men. Under its command are 6000 Pike Warriors and 2000 Militia Archers. The legion commander is the hereditary Nnobility, Kuluka! The legion¡¯s flag features the Spear and Crocodile!"


    In the Mexica calendar, the days from one to twenty are represented by different symbols, with one symbolized by the Crocodile, and two by the Wind.


    Kuluka, sharp-eyed yet maintaining a calm expression, carefully received the legion commander¡¯s scepter and sword, bowing deeply again.


    "Your Highness, I will serve you unto death."


    Xiulote smiled and nodded, grasping Kuluka¡¯s hair.


    "Kuluka, the First Pike Legion is now fully staffed. You and I together will head to Rivermouth County in the north, and then station there to guard against the Northern Canine Descendants and the Western Chapala Lake Region." sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, I will guard the north!"


    "Not only to guard, but also to take the initiative to attack, pillaging people. Hm, on the way north, I will discuss this with you in detail."


    "At your command!"


    Xiulote, satisfied, patted the other¡¯s shoulder.


    The First Pike Legion had formerly been the Mexica Pike Legion, actually composed of elite Militia promoted from warriors. During the western campaign, many of the Pike Legion fell, hence two units of Prepetcha archers were included. These Militia Archers, chosen through selection, were adept in archery, and high in morale. Armed with Long Wooden Bows or Long Bamboo Bows, they were agile, able to effectively complement the Pike formations.


    The First Pike Legion would be headquartered in the north. Kuluka, as the commander and in charge of local military and administrative matters, was the first major official, indicating the King¡¯s favor.


    "Royal Decree: Establish the Kingdom¡¯s Second Pike Legion, totaling 8000 men. Under its command are 6000 elite Pike Militia and 2000 Militia Archers. The legion commander is the hereditary nobility, Ezpan! The legion¡¯s flag features the Spear and Wind!"


    Ezpan¡¯s eyes shone with delight as he approached reverently. He accepted the legion commander¡¯s scepter and long sword, looking at them gleamingly before prostrating deeply in grand reverence.


    "Your Highness, you are my only sun, the light that holds my life!"


    Xiulote laughed heartily. He commanded loudly,


    "Ezpan, the Second Pike Legion primarily comprises Militia from the western Surrendered Army. You must intensify their training, properly reorganize them! The Priest¡¯s teaching is a top priority, and the legion¡¯s fields will also be allocated. Your station will be in the southern part of the Patzcuaro Lake region, always mindful of the surrounding situation!"


    "Your Highness, at your will! The Second Pike Legion has completed its selection. Their loyalty to you will be as unbreakable as mine, like rock. I will watch over the south!"


    Ezpan remained prostrate as he responded, respectfully not raising his head until he had finished speaking, then he backed away. Seeing the scepter in Ezpan¡¯s hands, the other commanders felt some envy. Black Wolf pursed his lips disdainfully and looked up, deliberately avoiding the sight.


    The Second Pike Legion was also selected from the garrisoned Surrendered Army. Due to the Kingdom¡¯s severe fiscal pressures, both Pike Legions were unable to be fully professional; they owned garrison lands and farmed during the busy agricultural season to stockpile provisions for campaigns, training in their downtime in preparation for war.


    Xiulote gripped the Divine Staff, looking around the circle. The commanders bowed their heads. Shortly after, the King tapped the stone floor with the end of the Divine Staff. The crisp ding-dong sound marked the end of the military council.


    "Return to your camps, enhance your training, prepare your troops for war!"


    "At your command!"


    Soon, the commanders saluted and dispersed, leaving only the armored King alone in the grand hall, deep in thought.


    After the military restructuring, the Kingdom¡¯s forces amounted to four field legions: the Imperial Guards, the Jingji, the First Pike, and the Second Pike, totaling thirty thousand soldiers. This included fourteen thousand Mexica Samurai, fourteen thousand Prepetcha warriors, and two thousand Tribesmen.


    This proportion of troops emerged from a consideration of balance. As the relocated populace gradually aligned with allegiance, local-born soldiers from the Lake Region would increase, eventually far surpassing the limited number of Mexica Samurai.


    In sum, this restructuring removed thirty-five thousand Tarasco Surrendered Army from the campaigning forces, easing the financial burden on the Lake Region.


    The thirty thousand garrisoned troops would arrange for family marriages over the years, integrating the trained strong men into regular civilian villages to serve as a professional logistical corps during large-scale wars. Meanwhile, the five thousand mining conscripts would gradually transition to a permanent garrison in the southwest mining districts, replaced by incoming slaves. Apart from the four field legions, weapons were distributed to each village and civilian post to establish Militia at a fixed population ratio.


    Thinking this, Xiulote lifted his head, looking toward the distant horizon.


    "With a population of over six hundred thousand supporting thirty thousand combat-ready troops... Even with the excessive profits from copper and glass, and the grain from the military and civilian tilled lands, it still won¡¯t last long. Ha ha, such relentless militarism, external conquest is imperative!"


    The King¡¯s laughing voice scattered in the long wind, soon fading into silence. The flickering firelight, embodying a burning will, merged into the deep night.


    A few days later, as February drew to a close, bearing a hint of warmth in the northern wind, the Imperial Guard Legion and the First Pike Legion set out from the Capital City toward Rivermouth County. Black Wolf¡¯s Royal Banner waved high, more than ten thousand Warrior Leaf Armors clanged. The great army advanced mightily, against the highland¡¯s northbound breeze, boldly moving north.

 Chapter 583 - 283: Northern Shipyard, The Starting Point of Navigation!

    The spring breeze of March filled the world, as the magnificent army marched gloriously forward. The northern wilderness was already covered in green grass, and wisps of cooking smoke rose from the villages among the commoners¡¯ settlements, filling the world with a sense of vitality.


    Xiulote stayed at the Rivermouth fortress for over half a month and dispatched a large number of Scouts to the north at the earliest opportunity. Afterwards, he convened priests from villages in all regions, carefully inquiring about the cultivation details of each settlement and the progress of missionary work. Then, before many priests, the King appointed Monkey Kuluka as the overall coordinator of Rivermouth County, that is, the military and political commander.


    The First Spear Legion, following the Royal Decree, began to garrison inside the Rivermouth fortress immediately. They were to be arranged on farmland for long-term stationing while also being responsible for the transportation of food supplies for the Royal Army¡¯s northern march. Rivermouth County¡¯s settlements were established earlier and had a satisfactory harvest last autumn. The fortress had already stockpiled a batch of grain and fodder, enough to supply the six thousand soldiers of the Imperial Guard Legion on their way to the Otapan City-State Alliance. Xiulote certainly would not entrust the critically important supply of grain and fodder to the always food-scarce Otomi people.


    Without any delay, the King then inspected the Rivermouth Shipyard around the fortress. He gathered numerous craftsmen to explore new shipbuilding design plans.


    Rivermouth Shipyard was actually located on the south side of the fortress by Cuitzeo Lake. It was situated in an inner lake, not very large, with simple facilities, but it had accumulated a lot of timber suitable for building large canoes. The Kingdom¡¯s large canoes could carry 40 people and required cedar or oak logs that were at least fifteen meters tall and two to three meters in diameter for the hull. These timber logs, air-dried for many years, were the heritage accumulated over decades by the Tarasco Kingdom, but now they were all benefiting the fiefs around the lake.


    At the King¡¯s summons, shipbuilding craftsmen with inherited skills from the Rivermouth fortress and Master Carpenters from the Capital City who came with the army, all gathered in the open-air shipyard, listening to the King¡¯s will.


    The midday sun was warm. Samurai stood everywhere within the shipyard, surrounded by a strict escort. Xiulote looked around, carefully assessing the many senior Master Craftsmen standing in the front row. Dressed in Prepetcha attire, they all bowed their heads in full compliance, expressing profound submission. The King nodded slightly and began to speak solemnly. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Chief Divine¡¯s protection! Today, I¡¯ve summoned all the Master Craftsmen here for a matter that concerns the divines, the Alliance, and all our people!"


    "The Feathered Serpent Divine set sail on the Snake Boat to the Great Lake in the East and made a promise of vengeance. The Divine left descendants of the Feathered Serpent on Snake Island in the East and allied with the fair-skinned tribes beyond the lake. These tribes may at any moment sail their great ships from the distant Eastern Lake, bringing endless war, disease, and disaster. Therefore, the Supreme God decreed, and the Alliance resolved, to move eastward to seek traces of the Feathered Serpent Divine¡¯s descendants and to build ships capable of sailing in the Eastern Lake!"


    Upon hearing this, the Master Craftsmen of Prepetcha exchanged glances. A low murmur of conversation soon began to spread throughout the shipyard.


    Myths of the Feathered Serpent¡¯s journey eastward had been passed down for hundreds of years, known to all tribes under the sky. The Divine Descendants of the Feathered Serpent, the fair-skinned foreigners, and building great ships to explore the distant Great Lake... The Master Craftsmen of Prepetcha were actually skeptical at heart. However, since building these great ships was connected to the Supreme God¡¯s decree, it was a grave matter that could result in the ruin of their families. They had to be careful and put forth all their thoughts and effort.


    After a moment, an elder with a weathered face stood up. The elder¡¯s attire was striking, his robe adorned with tree patterns and his neck bearing a sandalwood Necklace. He moved deftly with a dignified yet confident demeanor, representing the many Master Craftsmen as he saluted the King seated above.


    "Most high Majesty, in all the world when it comes to shipbuilding technology, the Maya of the far East are first, and we, the people of Prepetcha, are second! In fact, as long as there is a sufficient supply of copper, we have been able to join timber and planks to construct ships many times larger than canoes, capable of navigating the Great Lake!"


    At these words, Xiulote was invigorated. He looked towards the leading elder, inquiring.


    "How should I call the Master Craftsman?"


    "Your Majesty, I am ¡¯The Carpenter of the Lake¡¯ Pucuta, chief Shipwright of the Rivermouth fortress! My family has passed down the shipbuilding art of the people of the lake for generations. Many of the Kingdom¡¯s Naval Forces¡¯ large canoes were crafted by me and my apprentices!"


    Xiulote nodded. ¡¯The Carpenter of the Lake¡¯ Pucuta meant "Forests¡¯ Timber, Craftsman of the Lake". In this era, high-level craftsmen still maintained characteristics of tribal inheritance. Relying on their exclusive mastery of important technologies, they always held a certain influence and status in their locality and even the Kingdom, comparable to that of the military nobility and were also able to command the ordinary craftsmen of their industry.


    "Excellent! The army brought two thousand catties of copper with them when we marched northward, specifically for the Shipyard¡¯s use!"


    The King declared loudly. Hearing the amount of two thousand catties of copper, the Master Craftsmen all gasped. At that time, two thousand catties of copper were roughly equivalent in value to two thousand catties of Gold Dust!


    "Pucuta, you mentioned being able to build ships many times larger than canoes that can travel in the Great Lake, do you have any physical models or design plans?"


    At the King¡¯s query, Pucuta hesitated slightly, then took out a treasured parchment scroll from his bosom and cautiously handed it to the King.


    Xiulote felt the material of the scroll, which was unexpectedly made of fig tree bark. Similar to the paper made from tree bark by the Maya, it was fairly durable and long-lasting after undergoing preliminary paper-making processes like soaking, boiling, and drying. However, its raw materials were relatively scarce and the manufacturing cost was high.


    The King carefully unfolded the parchment scroll and quickly let out a soft exclamation of surprise.

 Chapter 584 - 283: Northern Shipyard, the Starting Point of Navigation!_2

    "Eh! Similar to Polynesian double-hulled canoes? And similar to Papua New Guinean multihull canoes?... Hmm, this design philosophy indeed resembles the iron chain linked boats from the Red Cliffs naval battle."


    Xiulote shifted his gaze, only to see at the top of the scroll, two canoes drawn side by side. The two boats were connected by wooden beams aligned parallel to each other, onto which planks were laid for carrying goods or people. At the tail of each canoe, a stern paddle was positioned to control the direction of the boat.


    Further down in the scroll, there were several canoes aligned side by side. Similarly, the canoes were connected by wooden beams to form a solid structure. On the outside of the multicanoes, a simple extended row was attached. This row floated in the water, further increasing buoyancy and the vessel¡¯s cargo capacity. Naturally, this would correspondingly reduce the vessel¡¯s speed.


    "Your Majesty, the upper wind canoe moves very fast, designed for naval battles and marching. Wooden planks between the two boats can carry twice the samurai and also provide a shooting platform for archers! The lower water serpent canoe carries heavy loads, designed for transporting personnel and materials. People, or water-resistant goods, can be placed on the outrigger! Of course, to securely connect the boats, expensive copper nails and copper chains are required. But the advantage is that you don¡¯t need real large trees to build usable large boats..."


    Pucuta looked up, his eyes shining, he looked up at the king, his words brimming with confidence.


    Xiulote slowly nodded, showing his admiration. This method of connecting two or more hulls, even installing outriggers, not only increased the load capacity but also greatly enhanced the canoe¡¯s stability and resistance to wind and waves. The improved canoe would possess basic deep-sea navigation capabilities, representing the pinnacle of current technological development in canoe evolution.


    The tribes of the Polynesian language family relied on this type of canoe to continuously sail and conquer islands across the entire Pacific Rim. They ventured from Malaysia to Luzon, from the Indonesian archipelago to New Zealand, from the Papua New Guinea islands to Fiji, Tonga, Honolulu, all the way to Easter Island, and even a group that left from Sumatra, floated across the entire Indian Ocean, and finally settled in Madagascar!


    After pondering for a moment, the King, taking cue from the Polynesian design, prudently made a suggestion. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Pucuta, it¡¯s a very nice design! For these double-hulled canoes, you can erect two cotton sails on the head and the connecting beam in the middle, allowing you to harness wind power for sailing..."


    Xiulote took out pen and paper and sketched a simple diagram. Hearing this professional advice, Pucuta was quite surprised. He carefully examined the improved design, thought for a while, and then sincerely nodded in agreement.


    "Your Majesty is absolutely right!"


    Xiulote smiled satisfactorily, patting Pucuta on the shoulder.


    "Pucuta, the water is the home of fish and the den of water serpents. From this drawing, I know that you are not a short-sighted river fish, but a water serpent that can roam and hunt! Since the craftsmen of Prepetcha have such exploratory capabilities and sufficient metal riveting experience, I confidently entrust this important task to you!"


    As the King spoke, he took out three drawn diagrams from his robe. He motioned to the surrounding master craftsmen, and several of the most senior shipwrights gathered around to observe them with Pucuta.


    Pucuta carefully examined the drawings, noting the first depicted a large, flat longboat with a slender hull, shallow draft, and low gunwales.


    The dimensions of the vessel were marked as about 18 meters long and about 3 meters wide. The longboat was divided by the deck into upper and lower sides. On the lower sides of the deck, a dense row of paddles extended out, with a steering paddle at the stern. In the middle and head of the deck above, a large and small sail were erected. The central sail was larger, serving as the main sail; the sail at the head was smaller and auxiliary. A shining sharp metal ram was also indicated at the bow of the longboat.


    "This vessel is a galley! Below the deck are the paddlers, and the deck above is for transporting soldiers and materials!"


    Xiulote gave a light smile. This was an ancient ship type he roughly recalled from films, originating in Ancient Greece, historically known as the galley. Galleys relied on both wind and human power, with relatively simple manufacturing technology that had been in use from the 10th century BC to the 15th century AD. It was an early Mediterranean naval warship, now mostly used as a coastal trading vessel.


    "The upper one is a simple single-row galley, where paddlers on both sides are arranged horizontally in a single row, making production easier... The one below is a double-row galley. That is, the sides of the vessel are built outwards, accommodating two rows of paddlers at different heights, allowing an increase in the number of paddlers, thus increasing paddling speed! By the same token, there is even a faster three-row galley."


    At this point, the King paused, his expression becoming serious.


    "Pucuta, these ships are a Divine Revelation bestowed upon me by the Chief Divine.

 Chapter 585 - 283: Northern Shipyard, the Starting Point of Navigation!_3

    "Your Majesty, the Maya have similar huge paddle-sail ships. Although not as complex as the one in this blueprint, the basic principles are indeed similar. We, the people of Prepetcha, have experience in hull splicing. As long as we have sufficient bronze and timber, give us about a year to explore, and making a qualified prototype ship should not be a big problem!"


    Pucuta¡¯s eyes were bright, and although his words were cautious, they were still full of confidence.


    Xiulote nodded in approval, not hiding his delight.


    Shipbuilding is a profound and challenging task, requiring extensive technical exploration and practice. It is not something that can be hastened by just one or two individuals. Even though he was a transmigrator and knew the ship¡¯s shape and general structure, if the craftsmen lacked sufficient technical accumulation, it would still be extremely difficult to produce. Pucuta¡¯s promise to test a paddle-sail ship within a year was enough to thrill him.


    Immediately, the king unfolded the second scroll of the blueprint, once again looking expectantly at the master craftsmen present.


    The second scroll depicted the sand ship commonly seen in the Celestial Empire, which was also used in large rivers or near seas and was generally developed during the Tang and Song periods. Its shape had a square stern and bow, a spacious deck, and slightly low freeboard. The most notable feature was its multiple masts and sails, which were large and shallow, making it fast due to its multi-sail design. At the stern, there was also a lift-operated rudder. Most importantly, the sand ship utilized a flat keel pioneered by the Celestial Empire, which was both wide and thick, capable of withstanding storms, making it unimpeded in the seas!


    Xiulote could not remember the complete structure of a sand ship. He simply drew the "three in front, two behind" five mast positions from his memories of Jiangnan¡¯s riverside scenes, sketched out the rudder at the stern of the sand ship, and finally emphasized the ship¡¯s flat keel. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The dimensions of the sand ship were noted as 20 meters long, 4 meters wide, and 1.5 meters high, making the total volume about 120 cubic meters, with an effective capacity of about 50-60 cubic meters, which is approximately 500-600 stones in the period of the Ming Dynasty. This type of sand ship usually only required seven or eight people to operate freely and was the most classic sailboat style of the Celestial Empire. Its various sails could utilize wind from all directions, making it very cost-effective in transportation, and its carrying capacity had already far exceeded the needs of the Alliance and Kingdom.


    Pucuta stared with wide eyes, examining the "Divine Revelation" ship drawing in detail. He scanned every corner of the drawing, noticing many unclear annotations and large connected parts that were blank, which made him frown in concern.


    "Your Majesty, this ship drawing... is there a more detailed internal diagram available?"


    Xiulote felt slightly embarrassed, calmly shaking his head.


    "Divine revelations are always fleeting glimpses, just as the intentions of the gods are unpredictable... This type of sand ship is mainly used for transportation and can sail on the Great Lake, resisting strong storms. What¡¯s most noteworthy are the ship¡¯s stern rudder for steering and the keel that shapes the hull."


    "The stern rudder? The keel?"


    Pucuta chewed on these unfamiliar terms, his eyes full of inquiry.


    "Please elucidate further, Your Majesty."


    Xiulote thought carefully, recalling the principles he had learned from physics textbooks, before he began to explain.


    "The function of the stern rudder is actually similar to the paddle at the stern of a canoe that controls direction. It includes a rudder blade in the water, which is the controlling tail paddle, followed by the rudder shaft that transmits force, and the horizontal rudder operated by a person at the stern. If the ship needs to turn left, you turn the rudder left, which drives the tail paddle to deviate right, and then the water flow pushes the hull left..."


    Pucuta pondered for a moment, his years of shipbuilding experience confirming what he had just learned. He soon realized and exclaimed loudly.


    "Your Majesty, your divine revelation is brilliant! However, this rotation requires great effort; the rudder shaft should be made of high-quality hardwood like birch, red oak, or fragrant rosewood... And this keel, what kind of bone is that?"


    Xiulote shook his head with a smile. He said, laughing.


    "The keel is merely a metaphor, meaning the sturdy bones of a giant beast. It is actually a longitudinal structure that runs from the bow to the stern along the centerline of the ship¡¯s bottom. If made from a robust material, like aged timber, spanning the entire length of the ship, it can make the vessel very sturdy, allowing it to remain stable amidst the storms on Eastern Lake. As for the flat keel..."


    Having said this, Xiulote suddenly paused. He only knew the basic concept and was not familiar with the specific details of the keel. After a while, the King spoke somewhat awkwardly.


    "A flat keel is just a flat-assembled keel...As for the specific structure, you all should try and make a good effort to explore it!"


    Pucuta looked at the King¡¯s expression and immediately understood. He bowed his head in respect, then discussed with the Master Craftsmans for a moment before carefully reporting back.


    "Your Majesty, this type of Sand Ship is quite novel, a style never seen before, with tail rudders and whatnot. We need to carefully ponder it. If we are lucky, perhaps we can build one in four or five years. If we are not so lucky... it might take ten years or even longer."


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression changed. His gaze sharpened, glaring at Pucuta like a majestic eagle. Pucuta bravely saluted and lowered his head deeply. The surrounding Master Craftsmans also bowed their heads in respect.


    After a long time, reflecting on the difficulties of exploring shipbuilding, the King sighed lightly and finally made a decision.


    "Pucuta, since that¡¯s the case, engage thoroughly in the exploration! From today, the Northern Shipyard is established, directly subordinate to the Divine Revelation Place in the Capital City, and you will serve as its director! The copper from the south will be supplied to you as a priority. Start with twin-hulled and multi-hulled canoes, familiarize yourselves with the technique of connecting ships, and upgrade the Kingdom¡¯s Naval Forces. Then, hasten to explore the manufacturing process of sail-and-oar ships. Within one year, I want to hear good news from you!"


    "As for the more complex Sand Ship..."


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and then promised generously.


    "I set no limits on the time for exploration. As long as you can produce a qualified prototype, the leader will be granted a hereditary nobility title, and rewarded with 2400 acres of hereditary land in Rivermouth County! The other senior Craftsmans will be elevated to military nobility, rewarded with gold and silver, feathers, and land!"


    Hearing such generous rewards, the Craftsmans¡¯ breathing became heavy, and their eyes sparkled with light. Pucuta took a deep breath twice, maintaining his composed demeanor. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the last scroll in the King¡¯s hand.


    "Your Majesty, this last scroll, what type of ship is it? May I have a look?"


    Hearing this, Xiulote lowered his eyes, his thoughts drifting away. He seemed to hear the orderly sound of bugles, followed by the roar of gunfire. Tall warships with sails unfurled slowly crossing the hull, exposing rows of orderly cannon; Thunderbolt erupting in an instant, destroying all enemies onshore and at sea!


    After contemplating for a long time, the King shook his head. He put away the last ship drawing, smiling as he spoke.


    "This is a gift from the Goddess of Truth and Justice, and it¡¯s not yet time to unveil it! I hope that in my lifetime, I will witness its arrival, bringing broad truth to the Alliance...Pucuta, do well! The vast future of the Kingdom lies in your hard-working hands!"


    Hearing the King¡¯s high expectations, Pucuta knelt down and bowed, repeatedly saying "I dare not." The many Shipwrights also knelt down, their expressions anxious.


    Xiulote left the ship drawing and spent the night at the dockside. Then, he discussed with the senior Master Craftsmans for several days and personally oversaw the establishment of the Shipyard. Only after the first twin-hulled canoe was improved did he lead his trusted aides away.


    March was ending in a blink of an eye. The Lerma River¡¯s shores were adorned with swaying green reeds and the chirping of birds. Envoy from Otapan City had been waiting at the rivermouth fortress, requesting the great Highness to head north as soon as possible.


    Steady as mountains, Xiulote first summoned scouts returning from the north to clearly understand the situation around Otapan. Then, he lastly summoned the monkey Prepecha. Prepecha had preliminarily sorted out the governance of Rivermouth County and arranged the logistics of supplies and fodder.


    The King expressed his approval with satisfaction and then led six thousand of the Imperial Guard Legion, crossing the tumultuous Lerma River by Naval Forces¡¯ boats, heading north once more to Otapan City. A few days later, the grand Kingdom¡¯s Imperial Guard Legion arrived under the vigilant yet respectful gazes of the Otomi people at the impregnable Mountain City.

 Chapter 586 - 284: Royal Army Heads North, Old Friends Meet at Night

    At the start of April, thunderous rumblings hinted at the changing winds. The dry north wind transformed into the moist easterlies, blending the low-hanging water vapor into the clouds above, where the dull gray was ripe with the brewing of spring thunder.


    Xiulote stood on the hillock he had visited years ago, looking up. Dark clouds hung low, the sunlight dimmed, and shadows enveloped the land, with distant thunders growling faintly. Not far away, Otapan Mountain City appeared increasingly towering and impregnable, as if touching the skies.


    After years of campaigning, the king, driven by the instincts of a commander-in-chief, surveyed the sturdy ancestral mountain stronghold once again. After a while, he shook his head with a profound gaze.


    "The terrain is precipitous, and heavy armor is hardly scalable. Whether it¡¯s longbows, powerful crossbows or trebuchets, none can reach the city¡¯s battlements. In the age of cold weapons, this truly is an impregnable fortress. The Otomi have chosen a fine location! To conquer this place, one must either lay a long siege or blast open the walls with heavy artillery..."


    At the foot of the hill, the Imperial Guard Legion bustled about. The personal army donned armor and stood alert, Temple Guards and barbarian mercenaries all pitched in. They used local materials, cutting down trees, digging trenches, and stacking bricks and stones to construct a simple camp of earth and stone. Meanwhile, Otomi scouts, in more than a dozen teams, watched the legion from a distance, ever vigilant and never straying.


    "Not enemies, nor friends, a neutral vigilance¡­ Establishing true mutual trust with the Otomi people will require time and planning!"


    Xiulote surveyed his surroundings from the high ground with a deep look in his eyes. After arriving at the foot of the city, he had sent envoys to the mountain city, requesting to let his army enter for rest. The envoy from Otapan City replied with utmost humility, offering a bounty of fresh vegetables, meat, and even tribute in the form of wealth and women to appease the troops. However, the request for the legion to enter the city was, without a doubt, met with a polite but firm rejection.


    In the wary caution of the Otomi, the army halted on the spot, encamping outside the city. With the spring cultivation yet to commence, many villagers had hidden in the mountains, leaving the surrounding hamlets deserted. A large number of samurai were stationed on Otapan City, while scouts kept watch day and night outside the city walls. It seemed that the horrific war from years prior had left a deep impression on the Otomi, one not easily faded.


    The sun set and the moon rose, casting its clear light upon the land, and the night grew deep. The patrol of trusted aides clanked in their armor leaves, and the camp of the legion was solemn, with only the central tent illuminated by firelight.


    Xiulote sat cross-legged within the large tent. His eyes drooped as if asleep but not quite, calmly awaiting. Bertade stood behind him, clad in armor.


    The campfire blazed, casting elongated shadows of two in the tent. As the silent night passed, it was uncertain how much time had elapsed when a gust of wind stirred, and the shadows and flames swayed together. When the fire settled, suddenly there were three shadows.


    "Your Highness, someone is here," the voice of the Head Warrior murmured low. Xiulote abruptly opened his eyes, looking towards the opening of the large tent, which had just closed.


    By the entrance, a not very tall, gaunt figure had appeared. The newcomer was cloaked in a broad black mantle, gazing at the king with serene, withered eyes before slowly lifting the hood over his head.


    "His Highness Xiulote, I greet you. The ancient tree atop the mountain looks towards the sky, welcoming the resting Divine Eagle. Your Highness, praise be to you! It has been years since we last met, and you have indeed become a true king!"


    Xiulote remained expressionless, nodding slowly. His gaze swept over the increasingly emaciated figure of Olte Yue, over the scattered white hair, and finally rested on the Priest¡¯s wrinkled face, as old as tree bark.


    "Priest Olte, do you know your crime?"


    "Your Highness, there are some disputes within the mountain city. This journey is not one to be seen. Coming to visit in the dead of night, I ask for your forgiveness¡­"


    "Olte!"


    Xiulote raised the Divine Staff and brought it down with force, the silver end chiming a "ding-dong." Instant silence filled the tent, followed by a chilling voice.


    "Otapan is a vassal to the Alliance, and Jiowar has sworn a Blood Oath of fealty to me! I lead the legion here, also heeding your humble plea to march north and convene with the states!"


    The king¡¯s demeanor turned daunting. He glared into Olte¡¯s eyes and reprimanded in outrage.


    "The Royal Army, invited here, has tramped through endless forests. Otapan, a vassal city-state, dares to close its gates and refuses entry to the army! Olte, do you realize that the Tarasco Kingdom to the south has been eradicated?!"


    At these words, the Priest fell silent, his aged face turning even grayer. After a long moment, he sighed deeply, and for the first time bent his knees, prostrating fully on the ground before the king.


    "Your Highness, Otapan City-State has witnessed the downfall of Tarasco Kingdom firsthand. General Jiowar had once led the legion, fighting for you in bloody battles. Envoys from the Lake Capital City have returned. At the recent New Year¡¯s grand ceremony, the sacrifice of the Tarasco king astounded the entire world!"


    "The situation has shifted; the might of the Alliance is unstoppable, deeply revered by tribes everywhere. We Otomi have waged war with the Alliance, fully aware of its ferocity. Your Highness, that reverence has taken root in the Otomi¡¯s hearts, and every city-state desires to gravitate towards the Alliance, following the strongest in the Jungle. This is the best opportunity, which is why I invited you here, to convene with the Otomi states!"


    Olte raised his head slowly, speaking with calm assurance. His eyes were slightly clouded, yet his gaze remained sharp.


    "Otapan City is the ancestral homeland of the mountain, the spiritual destination for all Otomi people. Since its establishment from the wilderness hundreds of years ago, the mountain city has never been breached by foreign enemies! Its steep and towering terrain, impregnable defenses, and the tradition of defending it at all costs, are the greatest guarantees for the continued survival of the Otomi Tribes."


    "Your Highness, your legion is invincible! We, the Otomi people, are willing to bow down and sincerely submit to you. But allowing the Mexica legion into the city... it concerns the safety of the mountain city, please allow us to adhere to tradition."


    Xiulote watched the old Priest. Humble in his kneeling, his pale hair hung down, but his spine remained unbowed. After a moment, the King spoke lightly.


    "Priest Olte, the times are changing, and the storm has come. The old traditions will become an obstruction, and the new weapons will destroy everything. At this moment, even the strong mountain city can no longer protect you for long... To survive or to perish? The Otomi people always have to make a choice!"


    Hearing the veiled threat in the King¡¯s words, Olte¡¯s face showed bitterness. He sighed softly and nodded.


    "Your Highness, my time is running short, and I am about to go to the Divine Kingdom. The Gods have taken away my worldly gains and losses, and paradoxically, I can now see further. I constantly watch the changes within the Alliance and feel the arrival of the War God. New thunderous weapons, new religious reforms, and the new structure of alliances... The Mexica Alliance, towering above the Tribes, is growing ever stronger! Now, when I close my eyes, I can see the ruler of the Mexica raising the Scepter, restoring the unity and glory of the Teotihuacan Period!"


    The old Priest¡¯s eyes became profound. He looked at Xiulote¡¯s face, as if trying to read something from it.


    "Your Highness, following the revelation of the Gods, for the future of the Otomi people, I seek the cry of the King¡¯s eagle. There is a Sun burning in the sky, and there is also a Divine Eagle soaring. I see that Divine Eagle flying over the mountain city, heading towards the land in the lake, settling in the newly born Kingdom. The Divine Eagle carries the will of the Sun God. And the ruler of the lake, will transform into the reborn Sun, rising into the highest heavens!... Your Highness, you are the Sun of the Mexica people, the Sun of the Prepetcha people, and the Sun of the Otomi people!"


    Though the old Priest¡¯s words were full of metaphors, his attitude was quite clear. Xiulote pondered for a while before ending the probe. His expression eased, and the corners of his mouth carried a slight smile.


    "Priest Olte, there are no strangers here. You and I have known each other for a long time, there¡¯s no need to be so implicit. I aspire to rule the world, seeing all of the Highland Tribes as future Citizens, with no distinction of ethnicity. If you seek a future for the Otomi people, I will grant you a future for the Otomi people!"


    The King stood up, took a few steps forward, and helped the kneeling old Priest to his feet. Then, he gazed into the other¡¯s eyes, speaking slowly.


    "Scouts have reported back to me that the Canine Descendants from the northern Wilderness are moving south in full force, invading deep into Pamus State territory, and even roaming to the borders of Otapan State. The leaders of the three Otomi States have converged in the mountain city, holding a Tribal conference in the ancestral land to discuss important matters. At this time, you are earnestly inviting me to join the conference up north, stating openly that this is a good opportunity for the Otomi Tribes to unite."


    "Indeed it is! Your Highness."


    The old Priest nodded affirmatively. Xiulote asked sternly, continuing.


    "But when I led the army here, I found that the Otomi Tribes along the way were either fleeing in fear or full of suspicion and vigilance. The attitude of Ototpan Mountain City is even more indecisive... Priest Olte, the Canine Descendants from the north, the ancestral mountain city, what is the current situation now?"


    Olte contemplated for a moment before replying candidly. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, last year was calamitous, as the Sky God brought down disasters. The northern desert saw the white disaster of the Gods, with an exceptionally cold climate! Countless Canine Descendants froze to death from weakness, innumerable birds and beasts froze dead or dispersed. Springs turned into cold stones of ice, not melting for two months, making this year¡¯s spring plowing hopeless. Without food, people starve to death; without clothing, they freeze to death, but people will not sit and wait for death. They will migrate to places where there is food and clothing and consume everything along the way!"


    "The white disaster of the Gods, destroying everything... The super cold wave has arrived?"


    Xiulote drew a sharp breath. He was aware of the severity of the cold waves in the North American Continent but had not anticipated that the dreadful cold wave could travel all the way south, bringing the cold to the northern part of the Mexican Plateau.


    "Yes, destroying everything! Once the cold wave arrives, it signifies the start of a terrible disaster. No one knows how long the disaster will last, or if it will come again. If large-scale cold waves arrive three times within five years, the northern Tribes will disappear at least by half amidst hunger and cold!"


    "To avoid the cold wave, from the East¡¯s Great Lake to the West¡¯s Great Lake, tens of thousands of Canine Descendants are migrating to the warmer south. Along the way they fight viciously, vying for valleys that can resist the cold waves, competing for water sources that can grow crops. They desperately fight over exceedingly limited food and turn enemies, or even themselves, into food!"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was grave as he nodded slowly. The North American Continent¡¯s super cold wave was a destructive disaster, and the early civilizations of the Tribal era had no defence against it. In fact, it was the prelude to the Little Ice Age, the Sp?rer Minimum, with the world¡¯s climate gradually cooling and North America¡¯s cold waves becoming more frequent and severe.


    "Your Highness, the Canine Descendants began migrating south from the end of last year. At first, it was just minor raids by small Tribes which each State could deal with on its own. But with the continuation of the divine disaster and the lack of hope for this year¡¯s spring plowing, the size and number of raiding Tribes heading south have increased!"


    "At the beginning of February, tens of thousands of Guajili Canine Descendants appeared on the northern border of Pamus State. They consist of eight large Tribes of five thousand people each, and more than sixty ordinary Tribes of a thousand each, tentatively forming an alliance. These Tribes are all armed, with no weakness amongst them. United, they have over thirty thousand able-bodied warriors, a force that the States cannot resist!"

 Chapter 587 - 285: The Eight Divisions of Canine Descendants, Plotting Mountain City

    "One hundred thousand Canine Descendants moving south?!"


    Xiulote was somewhat surprised. The Tarasco Kingdom had possessed regimented Canine Descendant Mercenaries, whose fearless and indomitable spirit had left a deep impression on him. Then, the King was somewhat puzzled.


    "Guajili Canine Descendants? Oh, Guachichiles, ¡¯kua-itl¡¯ means head, ¡¯chichil-tic¡¯ is red, the red-headed Barbarians?"


    "Yes, Your Highness. Nearly the entire Guajili tribe has moved south, indeed numbering over one hundred thousand. They are the more aggressive Barbarians from the northern highlands, residing deep within the harsh deserts. They are irascible, move swiftly, and possess excellent Archery skills, capable of hitting flying pinions! They deeply venerate the color red, see shedding blood as a sacred act, and will use any dye they find to dye their hair red. A distinctive trait of the Guajili elite warriors is their bright red hair!"


    "Your Highness, the situation among the northern Chichimeca Canine Descendants is complex, they can be subdivided into seven tribes. Apart from the Guajili people, there are the Pamus, aligned through marriage to our tribe, the Guamare close to the west, the Te-cue people farther west, the Kaksho aligned through marriage with the Tekos people, and the distant northwestern Tepeca and Sakate people. The tribes intermingle yet retain distinct customs, forming alliances yet also opposing each other... when there is a chance, I can elaborate further to you." S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh? I heard there are eight divisions of Chichimeca Canine Descendants. Guajili people, Guamare people, Otomi people..."


    Xiulote paused for a moment, watching the old Priest across from him with a meaningful look.


    "Olte, please continue on the main topic."


    "Your Highness, we Otomi people have a long heritage, and we are different from them..."


    Olte gave a wry smile, knowing what His Highness had left unsaid. He shook his head, making no retort, and continued.


    "Facing the invasion of the Guajili Canine Descendants, Pamus State could not hold out for long. By March, apart from a few isolated City-States, most towns and villages had already fallen. Fortunately, the Canine Descendants do not conduct sieges but instead plunder extensively in the countryside. Over the last fortnight, scattered tribes have begun raids in the northern part of Otapan State. What is worse, several leading large Guajili tribes have taken over the fertile grassy lands of Pamus State and are preparing to settle there!"


    "Semi-nomadic, semi-agricultural tribes moving south to invade and begin settling down..."


    Xiulote fell into deep thought. Based on the old Priest¡¯s description, these red-revering, archery-skilled Guajili Canine Descendants must be the most formidable fighters among the Chichimecs. They are a naturally nomadic people skilled in guerrilla tactics, located at the northernmost edge of the Mexican Plateau.


    In later times, the Guajili as the main force of resistance among the Chichimecs, fought against the Spanish for nearly half a century, eventually forcing the colonizers to seek peace. Fortunately, these troublesome nomadic tribes did not yet have the most critical horses and livestock.


    "Olte, the Otomi people are a Great Tribe of the north, with over twenty thousand Samurai in various states, capable of mobilizing several times that number in Militia. Have you not sent troops to drive out the Guajili people?"


    "Your Highness, indeed the warriors of three states number over twenty thousand. But as the fierce Canine Descendants moved south relentlessly, they were everywhere, pouring in without end. Pamus State was besieged, and naturally, tribes moved south toward the north of Guamare State as well. Only the ancestral lands of Otapan could send troops. A month ago, the military leader of the mountain city, Commander Aquili, personally led a legion of ten thousand northward, engaging in fierce battles with several large southward-moving Guajili tribes. Leading his soldiers from the front, he managed to rout the Guajili¡¯s army at one point, but during the pursuit, he was ambushed by a Divine Archer who shot him in the eye..."


    "After this battle, although the Guajili people were scattered and fled, their losses were not significant. They continued to firmly occupy Pamus State. Commander Aquili, grievously wounded, died several days later. Lacking a Commander-in-Chief, the Otapan army withdrew directly back to the mountain city. At this very moment, the leaders of various tribes are gathered together, arguing incessantly as they elect the highest leader, the new military leader of Otapan Mountain City!... Your Highness, your arrival is timely, Jiowar needs your support!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s eyes brightened. External pressures from the Canine Descendants moving south, internal strife among leaders. The Otomi people, beset by external threats and internal conflicts, indeed presented the best opportunity to subdue them. The King regarded the anxious old Priest and asked with a smile,


    "Olte, as the highest-ranking Chaos Priest who has presided over multiple peace negotiations for the Otomi Alliance, can¡¯t you decide the leadership of the mountain city?"


    The old Priest gave a bitter smile and shook his head candidly.


    "Your Highness, precisely because I have presided over the negotiations several times, my reputation is no longer what it once was! I hail from Guamare State, but there is another seasoned Chaos Priest in Otapan Mountain City, Sakate. Ultimately, the control of Otapan Mountain City will be determined by the heart of the Samurai and competed by the military prowess of the tribal leaders... The current candidates for leader are Jiowar, whom I support, and Nelpa, supported by Sakate."


    "Your Highness, I have been closely monitoring the changes within the Alliance, and Jiowar is also aware of the Alliance¡¯s strength. No matter the reason, we are willing to seek change, submit and pledge allegiance to you, seeking a way out for the Otomi people. Whereas Sakate is a very traditional Otomi Priest, Nelpa has never dealt with the Alliance... We view the Alliance as friends, they view the Alliance as enemies! The Wolf King will determine the direction of the wolf pack, once Nelpa becomes leader..."


    Xiulote looked enlightened and affirmed without hesitation.


    "Olte, we can trust each other. I harbor good intentions towards the Otomi people, will support my subjects, and eliminate my enemies!... What is your plan?"


    "Your Highness, you are the eagle of Mexica, the sovereign of the Kingdom of the Lake! Your fame spreads across the land, and the Otomi people also believe in your divinity. Therefore, please enter the mountain city personally, participate in the tribal council. In front of the various Otomi clans, openly declare your support for Jiowar!"


    "What!"


    Bertade had been quietly listening. On hearing this, he finally could not hold back and stepped forward, urgently advising.


    "Your Highness, you are the supreme Sun, you must not risk yourself alone!"


    Olte also stepped forward, grabbing the hem of Xiulote¡¯s robe. He raised his left hand, swearing sincerely.


    "Your Highness, I swear by my life to the gods! The Otomi are in grave danger. We long for a new Sun, yearn for the leadership of the strong. We would never dare to harm you or provoke the might of the Alliance!"


    "Oh!"


    Xiulote¡¯s eyebrows rose. He waved to the Head Warrior. The old Priest also relaxed his grip and bowed in apology. The King¡¯s expression remained calm, his eyes steadily on the old Priest.


    "The eagle needs its wings, and a King needs his majesty. Olte, how many Guards may I bring into the city?"


    "Five hundred men, Your Highness, five hundred men. The legendary strongest leader of the Otomi had a guard of five hundred. This number conforms to tradition and can be accepted by the people of Otapan!"


    "Hmm. Five hundred elite entering the Mountain City, six thousand stationed outside... Given the situation of the Otomi, the risk of entering the city isn¡¯t great, indeed it is worth a try!"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment, his face as serene as a lake. He made up his mind silently, giving nothing away in his speech.


    "Olte, Jiowar needs my support to become the Leader of the Mountain City. What do I get in return?"


    "Your Highness, You will preside over the enthronement ceremony for Jiowar. You will gain control of the tributaries of the Mountain City, loyalty from the Nnobility of the Mountain City, and the allegiance of the Otomi people!"


    Olte¡¯s expression changed slightly as he bowed and replied.


    The King shook his head, his demeanor impassive.


    "Not enough, Olte. I might be willing to risk entering the city, but I need more. You can give me more!"


    "Your Highness, once Jiowar is in position, the Otomi will align more closely with you. The Otapan Legion will head back north to confront the Guajili Canine Descendants. If you help us defeat the invading Canine Descendants... I can assemble the leaders of the three states for a divine ceremony, formally proclaiming You as the Great Chief of the Otomi people!"


    "Oh, there¡¯s that layer of planning as well?... Olte, you are indeed deep and calculating."


    Xiulote looked at the old Priest, a smile appearing on his face. He shook his head again.


    "Olte, think about your status. You know what I care about and what I want!"


    "Your Highness Xiulote!"


    In the Priest¡¯s eyes, a profound sorrow and pleading appeared. The King remained unfazed, just steadily staring back at him, then reached up to grasp the Sun God Amulet around his neck. After a long while, the old Priest finally lowered his head. At that moment, his back bent forward, instantly aged.


    "Your Highness, the Saka faction is the most conservative and stubborn. As long as Jiowar holds the power, he can issue military orders to force them back to their fief, driving them all out of the Mountain City... You can arrange men on the outskirts, preferably Barbarians whose allegiance is hard to identify."


    "As long as they die, the stubborn faction loses its backbone. Jiowar takes control of Otapan City, I influence the State of Guamare, and also the besieged State of Pamus. At that time, I will represent the Priesthood, issuing divine decrees, making the Otomi people of the three states devote themselves to the highest Chief Divine..."


    Olte bowed his head, his breathing becoming labored. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, his expression hardening again.


    "However, Your Highness, the faith in the Primordial God has been passed among the Otomi people for a long time, and He is also the ancestral deity of the Otomi people. When the War God Huitzilopochtli is elevated to the highest Chief Divine, after the Primordial God Ometeotl steps down, please let Him become the second most important Subordinate God! This way, the turmoil of faith will be minimized."


    Xiulote looked at the old Priest for a while. The man was like a flickering candle in the wind, teetering, desperately clinging to the fading light, yet unable to change the departure of the old gods. The King pondered for a moment and then nodded. He was not in a rush.


    "Very well. Olte, I agree! In the land of the Otomi¡¯s three states, the Primordial God will become the second Subordinate God. Remember the promise you¡¯ve given me!"


    "I will. The Otomi people have no other choice... Your Highness, what about your choice?"


    "The day after tomorrow morning, open the city gates. I will lead five hundred trusted aides, raising the Royal Banner of the Black Wolf, and enter the ancestral lands of the Mountain City!"


    The night wind shifted, the bonfire flickered. The King¡¯s voice rose high, spreading into the chilly wind, filled with grandeur and boldness. The long wind sweeping through, entering the towering Mountain City, turned into a poignant dirge. The former leader Aquili had already been buried in the sacred cemetery of the tribe, his relatives praying through the night. Nearby, the longhouses of the chiefs were brightly lit all night. A new fire was burning.


    Note: The last chapter in QiDian App¡¯s installment includes a distribution map of the Canine Descendants.

 Chapter 588 - 286: Entering the City, Crisis!

    The cold days had passed, and the rainy season was not yet upon them. Below Ototpan Mountain City, a splendid spring scene unfolded. Vibrant flowers bloomed under the sunlight, their faint fragrance spreading in the warm breeze, uplifting everyone¡¯s spirits. Colorful butterflies danced among the flowers, and spirited hummingbirds darted through the trees, drawing distant gazes.


    His Highness Xiulote stood on a small hill in the military camp. He looked at the gentle spring scenery nearby, a serene smile playing on his lips. With the pleasant breeze, melodious birdsongs filled the air, as if composing a moving melody. He looked up to see flocks of warblers soaring above the mountain city.


    It was now April, the time for North American warblers to migrate. These small, grey and white birds traveled from tropical and subtropical jungles northward, migrating long distances to the temperate continental coast. However, this year, due to a cold wave, they were forced to stay here, singing joyously every day, unaware of the dangerous journey ahead.


    The warbler is a natural-born songster in nature, capable of producing ten distinct tones with repetitive rhythms and vibratos. Their calls were exceptionally vivid, and their songs unforgettable, symbolizing beauty and good fortune in Central American culture.


    "Truly a blessed and auspicious day!"


    Watching the jubilant warblers, the king¡¯s face revealed a genuine smile. He was dressed in sturdy bronze medium armor, covered by an elegant High Priest robe, and wore a bronze helmet that partially covered his face, adorned with several tri-colored long feathers, all of which shone brightly in the sunlight, giving him an extraordinary and dashing appearance.


    "Your Highness, the envoy from Otapan has arrived in the camp. Five hundred personal army samurai have formed up and are ready to depart at any moment!"


    Bertade, dressed in medium armor, stepped forward and reported in a solemn voice.


    Xiulote nodded. He waved his hand, signaling for Balda, who stayed behind at the camp.


    "Balda, be ready! Follow my previous instructions and stay alert for any messages!"


    "I will strictly adhere to your command! Your Highness, go with peace of mind!"


    Balda bowed respectfully. Hearing this, Xiulote raised his eyebrows, then turned his gaze back to the front of his personal army, where Black Wolf Torc, in heavy armor, saluted from a distance, and made a gesture indicating readiness. The King smiled and then gave his order in a grave voice.


    "Ters, raise the Royal Banner! Bertade, let us proceed!"


    Five hundred personal army guards formed a tight formation, guarding the Royal Banner carried by Black Wolf in the center, and marched towards Ototpan Mountain City. Among these personal guards, two hundred were Jaguar warriors clad in heavy bronze armor, and the remaining three hundred were personal guards in medium armor wielding longbows. All were elite samurai selected from the imperial guard, capable of holding their ground for a long time once they formed into formation.


    Along the way, the guards were solemnly silent. The only sounds were the clanging of armor and the synchronized steps. In less than half an hour, the King had reached the base of the plateau where the mountain city was situated.


    He looked up, seeing the plateau rising forty to fifty meters high, occupying a commanding position in this hilly area. The mountain roads along the way were steep, with large patches of trees and rocks scattered around, hindering the large group¡¯s climb and forming a natural defensive barrier. Only a few paths directly facing the city gates allowed smooth upward progress.


    Above the plateau were serpentine stone walls of the city. The walls stood five meters high, with thousands of Ottopan warriors and militiamen holding weapons, stationed tightly along the ramparts. These defending troops had piles of stones, wooden blocks, and clay pots at their disposal, and even boasted hundreds of replicas of Mexica longbows.


    Guided by the envoy, the group slowly ascended and soon came within range of the city head¡¯s attack. As the Mexica Wolf Banner drew near, a sudden uproar erupted from the city walls, accompanied by numerous noisy discussions. A group of Otomi warriors shouted loudly, even drawing their bows and javelins.


    Black Wolf Torc, in his heavy armor and longbow, strode to the front. He looked up at the mountain city¡¯s defenses, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead, and he could not help but grip the bone whistle around his neck. No matter how heavy his armor, facing stones rolling down from tens of meters high would have the same consequence.


    Fortunately, the chaotic and dangerous uproar did not last long. Several white-robed high priests soon arrived to calm things, and the Otomi warriors on the city walls gradually quieted down. They wore complex expressions, looking at the leading envoy, the troops below, and the approaching Wolf Banner, at a loss for words.


    Soon, Torc, slightly out of breath, stood under the city wall. Wearing more than forty pounds of heavy armor and facing the pressure from the city head, he was somewhat tired after leading the way. Black Wolf rested for a few moments and exchanged glances with the city warriors for a while, then, remembering his duty, he returned to Xiulote¡¯s side.


    "Your Highness, climbing from the foot of the mountain to the top, if fully equipped and maintaining combat stamina, will take at least a quarter of an hour. All this time, we are under the striking range of the city head!"


    Xiulote nodded imperceptibly. The young king, resplendent as a Divine Envoy, stood solemnly outside the city gate. Soon, the heavy wooden gate opened with a loud thud, and then five hundred armored warriors streamed in, raising the Royal Banner high as they passed through the city gate and into the mountain city. Seeing this, the troops on the city walls finally burst into a clamor of low exclamations.


    "Blessed by the Primordial God!"


    "It¡¯s the Mexica people!"


    "The Mexica Highness has entered the city!"


    "From the south, the Divine Revelator!..."


    "Your Highness Xiulote, your troop is the only foreign army that entered the mountain city within two hundred years."


    The High Priest Olte stood at the entrance of the city, personally greeting the King. Dressed in a black and white ceremonial dress of a Chaos Priest with a towering feather crown, his demeanor was poised and solemn. Around him clustered the low-ranking priests and temple warriors guarding him. In this mountain city, the High Priest was one of the two highest positions.


    "Such a magnificent city, as long as it is defended properly and united, indeed no human force can conquer it!"


    Xiulote calmly observed the city¡¯s defending army, smiling as he praised. The number of Otomi militia in the mountain city was enormous, estimated at over ten thousand. Although their clothing and armor were simple and their bodies lean, their expressions weren¡¯t dull; there was a certain spirit in their eyes, one of guarding their homeland. Such a force might be easily defeated in an outside expedition but exceptionally resilient when defending their home.


    "Your Highness, the native dogs cherish their home and would never venture out to harm others. Us Otomi people¡¯s wish is also merely to squat in our homes, living quietly day by day."


    "Priest Olte, the trends of this world are like the Long River, rushing forward ceaselessly! With all the tribes at war, where can stability be found? Look at this¡ªthis invasion by the Canine Descendants from the south, isn¡¯t it a fight for survival?"


    "...Your words, Your Highness, naturally hold great reason. May the spirits bless and perpetuate the sacred cocoa."


    "The spirits will favor the will of the King. It is the worldly kings who will bless the cocoa!"


    The two men looked at each other briefly, whispering in conversation, their words tinged with unspoken feelings. Five hundred of the King¡¯s personal army shone in copper armor, encircling the King, exuding an indestructible force. Olte¡¯s eyes flickered as he glanced at these expensive and sturdy copper armors. He sighed softly in his heart before continuing to look at the King.


    Their tacit exchange didn¡¯t last long, soon interrupted by a burst of urgent voices. Scores of fully armed Otomi Warriors, escorted by a dozen high priests, hurriedly rushed from the center of the mountain city. The leading Chaos Priest Saka, within a hundred steps, let out a furious roar.


    "Olte, how dare you let Mexica enter the city!"


    "Priest Saka, His Highness Xiulote is a friend to the Otomi and the older brother of General Jiowar. His presence at today¡¯s tribal gathering is an honor for Otapan City!"


    "Pah! Olte, you¡¯ve been enchanted by the Evil God, betraying the spirits of chaos!"


    Saka strode forward, unceasing, quickly closing to about twenty steps from the crowd. He was about fifty years old, with high cheekbones and thick black hair, solid and strong, clearly formidable and younger than the Old Priest.


    "Saka, paranoia has blinded you! The new Kingdom of the Lake in the south is an ally of Otapan City-State!"


    The Old Priest straightened his spine and roared, like an old yet persistent marmot.


    Saka approached nearer but didn¡¯t continue disputing with the Old Priest. His gaze was fierce, wolf-like; he first scanned the King under the Wolf Banner, then spotted the several hundred armed Mexica warriors, causing his pupils to constrict instantly. The Chaos Priest immediately halted his steps, positioning himself within the guard of the temple warriors. He paused for several breaths, then turned to look at the large group of Otomi Warriors on the city walls, loudly rallying them.


    "Otapan Warriors! The Mexica are our enemies! Years ago, they besieged the mountain city, slaughtered tribes in three states, and countless children of the Primordial God were sacrificed, their blood soaking the earth! They stole our food and burned our fields, causing widespread famine to this day! Even this massive invasion by the Canine Descendants is linked to the Mexica!... The Mexica stole our wealth, killed our loved ones, ruined our lives, and now they want to meddle in the Otomi Alliance¡¯s tribal gathering, turning the the Otomi into slaves completely!"


    Saka¡¯s resonating voice echoed up and down the city walls, reaching the ears of thousands of Otomi Warriors. With the tribal leaders all in the center for the gathering and mostly lower-level warriors stationed as guards, they resonated with the provocative words, growing more and more noisy.


    Seeing this dangerous omen, Olte¡¯s eyes widened. He rushed forward, angrily grabbing Saka¡¯s clothes, loudly scolding. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "By the spirits above! Saka, your words are full of lies! The wars years ago were with King Tizoc, who is already dead! His Highness Xiulote has never been our enemy! On the contrary, the food that saved us during the famine in the mountain city came from his supply! He is our friend!"


    "Olte, you are old now! In recent years, under your lead, we Otomi have been like field mice in a cave, skulking and slaughtered at will! Xilotepec City was lost, our legions sent south serve the Mexica for nothing, and even Pamus State has been occupied by the Canine Descendants!... You have lost the courage of your heart, lost the protection of the spirits, no longer fit to lead the Otomi!"


    Saka suddenly roared. He pushed the elderly Olte away, extended his hand toward the King at the city gate, and shouted loudly.


    "The Primordial God blesses us! Otapan Warriors, show the Mexica our strength! Go forth, attack bravely, capture the Mexica Highness, and make them hand over their weapons, wealth, food, and land!"

 Chapter 589 - 287: The Might of the War God

    As the Saka Priest incited the crowd with his continuous chanting and agitation, the thousands of Otapan Defending Army soldiers near the city walls became increasingly rowdy. The clamorous noise spread, startling a flock of birds into flight in the mountains.


    The agile finches sensed danger, chirping as they flew high into the sky to watch. Below, in the mountain city, the two-legged creatures divided into two distinct groups: one group shouting in disarray, like a converging pack of wolves; the other standing ready for battle, like bears on their hind legs,


    Battle seemed imminent. Over a thousand impulsive Otomi Warriors gripped their bows and war clubs, gradually moving their feet, surrounding the Royal Banner at the city gates. Some brandished their weapons, eyes red, loudly taunting the Mexica people.


    Under the Royal Banner, five hundred Copper Armored Imperial Guards occupied the entrance of the mountain city, forming a tight defensive circle. Encircling them were two hundred Heavy Armored Jaguars. These elite veteran warriors, accustomed to combat and skilled in battle techniques, could easily break through enemy ranks several times their own. Clad in heavy armor and holding shields, they remained composed even when surrounded, their eyes filled with the intent to kill. Within the inner circle of the formation stood three hundred Medium Armored trusted aides, also chosen from among thousands. Skilled in archery and martial arts, they were formidable at any range. The trusted aides now took out their longbows, nocked their copper arrows, and aimed at the Cotton Armored Otomi Archers opposite them.


    The priests of the Otomi within the city were also divided into two groups. Those under Olte outnumbered the others, loudly admonishing the surrounding Otomi Warriors to keep most of the defending army in place. Though fewer in number, the priests accompanying Saka were younger and more spirited. They shouted throughout the crowd, continuously stirring up hatred, urging the warriors to advance. The two groups of priests glared at each other, shouting invectives and even coming to blows when they got close.


    "Saka, have you lost your mind? To attack the Alliance at this time? Do you want to destroy the Otomi people?!"


    Olte steadied himself and, from nearly ten paces away, bellowed in anger. A dozen priests and guards hurried forward, shielding the elder Priest behind them.


    "Olte, you¡¯re old! The Otomi people need a strong leader, someone who will face everything with stoic bravery, to be reborn in this cruel world!"


    Saka stood among the Temple Warriors, protected by their shields. As he looked at the increasingly out-of-control situation, a smile crept onto his face, and he muttered under his breath.


    "When two cheetahs vie for the same forest, he who yields has only death ahead! I cannot be the one who fails!"


    The Tribal Assembly of Otapan had just begun, with tribal leaders from various lands gathered in one place, in the process of electing the military leader of the mountain city¡¯s ancestral ground. The two Head Warriors of Otapan City, Nelpa and Jiowar, were locked in fierce competition for the leadership of the mountain city.


    At this critical moment, the elder Priest Olte unexpectedly, without the Priesthood¡¯s permission, allowed the distinguished Mexica Prince into the city. The Mexica Prince had always been close to Jiowar, and his presence would undoubtedly have a decisive impact on the election of the military leader.


    With the situation urgent and arising suddenly, Saka made a snap decision, stirring the Otomi Warriors stationed at the city gates to clash with the Mexica people. The tribal leaders were all gathered at the city center, and no one was there to control the rank-and-file city defenders. Once the Otomi Warriors began fighting and both sides saw blood, there would be no turning back for the warriors¡¯ tribes! Whether the Mexica Prince was expelled or captured, the situation in the mountain city would shift in favor of the side that would benefit!


    The Wolf Banner fluttered, armor clinked, and an eerie silence fell over the Samurai. Xiulote, lips pursed, remained calm and collected, observing the unfolding situation.


    Under the instigation of the opposing priests, the situation was gradually descending into chaos. The King¡¯s gaze swept over the defending army on the city walls. Most were shouting aimlessly; the Militia stood confused in their ranks, while the Warriors hesitated, watching the divided Priesthood. The closest thousand Otomi Warriors, influenced by the hostile atmosphere of the field, were shouting as they pressed closer.


    The King furrowed his brow. He had five hundred of the finest Armored Warriors at his command, and even faced with the charge of thousands of Otomi Warriors, they could fully protect themselves. The Mexica Warriors also held the position at the city gates and could retreat the same way they came at any moment.


    "But once blood is shed, the situation will be hard to calm! This is not what I desire!"


    Xiulote looked around. The Otomi had no tribal leaders to organize them, just chaos under the Priests¡¯ provocation. Although they seemed as boiling as soup, they could be intimidated with the right approach.


    ""Bertade, withdraw the trusted aide¡¯s shield and reveal my form!"


    "Your Highness?"


    The Head Warrior was somewhat worried.


    "Withdraw the shield! I am clad in copper armor; the arrows of the Otomi pose little threat to me."


    Quickly, the trusted aides lowered their shields and dispersed to the sides, revealing the shining armor at the center. Xiulote stood upright, towering beneath the Royal Banner, and bellowed loudly.


    "Black Wolf!"


    "Present, Your Highness!"


    "Advance the plan, blow the Bone Whistle!"


    "By your command!"


    Toltec, clad in heavy armor, stood at the very front of the military formation. He raised the pale Bone Whistle, as long as two hands, to his lips, then puffed up his cheeks and blew with all his might.


    "Whew! Whew! Dee!... Whew! Whew! Dee!"


    The piercing notes burst forth suddenly, resonating with a particular melody at the city gates. Black Wolf exerted his full strength, the shrill sound of the whistle cutting through the heavens, traveling far and wide until it reached beneath the Mountain City! The sound had such penetrating power that it made onlookers dizzy and brought a hushed stillness to the surroundings.


    "Praise be to You! The Chief Divine, Sun God, War God Huitzilopochtli!..."


    In the brief respite that followed, Xiulote raised the Divine Staff in his hand and chanted loudly, capturing the Otomi¡¯s attention. His body shone with golden light, his arms wide open, looking up at the sun. This was the gesture of a Priest praying to the gods!


    "...The War God brandishes thunder and roars, revealing His power!..." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The King chanted loudly, his voice soaring and pure, infused with a certain mystical cadence. Then, he slowly lowered his head to level his gaze and suddenly pointed forward with the Divine Staff.


    "...The War God descends, the deity has arrived!"


    Witnessing the Mexica prince¡¯s solemn prayer, the approaching Otomi Warriors abruptly halted. In that era, the majesty of the gods was deeply ingrained in the hearts of the people, and the power of the gods seemed omnipresent. Considering the reputation of the "God of Death," the warriors waited in trepidation for a moment, but nothing happened."


    Xiulote pointed the Divine Staff, motionless, his expression divine. The Otomi warriors stopped in their tracks, looking at each other in confusion, momentarily silent. After a brief pause, the lead Saka priest was the first to snap out of it. He roared angrily.


    "The Primordial God protects the mountain city! This is the Divine Realm of Ometeotl! Warriors blessed by the deity, charge for me..."


    "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!..."


    Earth-shattering thunder suddenly exploded, like apocalyptic waves rising from the ends of the sky, roaring up and engulfing the entire mountain city. Thousands of Otomi defending soldiers had terror written on their faces. They looked up, but instead of clouds, they saw only the blazing sun!


    Hearing the familiar sound of cannons, Xiulote¡¯s expression remained unchanged, and he let out a sigh of relief. After counting four consecutive cannon blasts and estimating the time, he swung the Divine Staff again and bellowed.


    "War, God, descends!"


    "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!..."


    Another four thunderous bellows pierced everyone¡¯s heart! Seeing the prince¡¯s praying movements and hearing the angry roars of the deity, the present Otomi could no longer contain their fear and cried out in panic.


    "Ah! War God Huitzilopochtli!..."


    "The Grand Deity of the Mexica people protects them!..."


    "The incarnation of the deity, the God of Death Xiulotel!..."


    Voices of terror created a chaos. The Otomi warriors in the front ranks dropped their weapons and dispersed the encirclement. They backed away with heads bowed, their shouts were meaningless, and they dared not look directly at the radiant king. Soon, Ottopan warriors who had participated in the western expedition cried out.


    "I¡¯ve been to the southern battlefield; this is the Mexica legion¡¯s ritual to summon the God of Thunder! The Divine Arts that defeated the Tarasco people!..."


    Memories of the western expedition flooded back, the thunderous sounds at Rivermouth fortress were unforgettable. Seeing the black Wolf Banner, hundreds of Ottopan warriors who had joined the western expedition knelt down, prostrating themselves before the former marshal.


    "Divine Blessings, Your Highness!"


    Hundreds of warriors kept shouting, over a thousand Otomi defending soldiers dropped their weapons, bowing their heads in fear. Many Otomi militia even knelt to the ground, saluting the king as if participating in a sacred prayer.


    "Warriors, do not fear... this is the howling of an Evil God, harmless to the children of the Primordial God..."


    "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!..."


    After a short silence, the earth-shaking thunder resumed, interrupting the Saka priest¡¯s shouting and causing him to lose his balance. Amidst the divine roar, more and more Otomi knelt down, their faces filled with awe, and the present priesthood also showed fear.


    Watching this scene, the old priest had a complex expression, staying silent. He kept a close eye on the changes of the Mexica, knowing that the thunder wasn¡¯t a divine power but a new type of weapon. Although he had sent many scouts, he had never been able to learn the way to produce this weapon.


    "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!..."


    The thunder had a certain pattern, two rounds, four blasts each time, with a quarter interval in between. In fact, the Imperial Guard Legion brought a total of eight Eight-Gate Wooden Cannons, with a dedicated cannon team. Early that day, all eight cannons had been loaded and stood ready, waiting for the king¡¯s signal.


    Xiulote looked around again, nodded slightly, and maintained the posture of a deity. All the Otomi had laid down their weapons, and the city walls were filled with prostrate figures. Tribal leaders from the city center were startled by the cannon fire and were hurrying over from not far away; leading them was Jiowar, whose narrow eyes and coyote-like appearance.


    "Black Wolf, blow the whistle!"


    "Whistle! Whistle! Whoosh!... Whistle! Whistle! Whoosh!" The piercing sound of the whistle cut through the sky, traveling far down the mountain, conveying new orders.


    The Otomi fell into utter silence, looking towards the king, radiant with light. Xiulote waved the Divine Staff solemnly, his voice high and resonant, chanting the final verses of the prayer.


    "Praise the Chief Deity! The light of the god envelops the earth, its great power is everywhere! The god watches over us!..."


    Jiowar approached briskly, arriving in haste, followed by a large group of tribal leaders. He glanced at the situation around him then looked towards the old priest Olte.


    The old priest gave a slight nod. He gestured a salute and then raised the Divine Staff, calling out loudly to the Otomi.


    "Praise the War God! He is the Sun God, also the deity of the Otomi!"


    "Praise the War God! Praise the Sun God!"


    Jiowar was the first to shout, kneeling to the ground, saluting in front of Xiulote¡¯s Royal Banner. Behind him, the tribal leaders hesitated momentarily before they too knelt down to salute.


    "Praise the War God! Praise the Sun God!"


    Devout prayers rose and fell, echoing over the majestic mountain city. With the arrival of the tribal leaders, the Otomi warriors each bowed their heads, and the situation within the city was finally under control again while the roar of the deity was no longer heard.


    Witnessing the changing situation, Saka¡¯s complexion turned pale. He stared fixedly at the king beneath the Wolf Banner, unable to see the young face beneath the Bronze Helmet, only hearing a concluding chant.


    "...The god has departed!"

 Chapter 590 - 288: Tribes Election

    ```


    Faint clouds scattered, and the midday sun shone through sparsely, quieting the sky above the mountain city. Startled songbirds once again gathered, singing high above in a chorus, as if voices drifting from the Divine Kingdom.


    The Black Wolf¡¯s royal banner rose high among the birds, standing in the center of Tribe Square in the mountain city. The city¡¯s history was ancient, and its buildings still retained much of the tribal era¡¯s character. At the center of Tribe Square was a massive fire pit, where a roaring bonfire danced in the wind, emitting red glows, heat, and blue smoke. Not far from the square to the East was a heavy earth platform surrounded by bluestone. Various flags and banners fluttered above the platform, while beneath it lay the cremains and belongings of over a dozen generations of mountain city leaders.


    At this moment, hundreds of tribal leaders and noble samurai sat around the fire pit in a circle. His Highness Xiulote, accompanied by dozens of trusted aides, sat to the east where the sun rose, his back to the graves of the Otomi ancestors.


    The sun brought rebirth, and the earth embraced death. Rebirth and death were eternal motifs in Central American culture. Over the past centuries, the Otomi people discussed affairs, socialized, ate and drank, danced, held religious ceremonies, and even had romantic rendezvous in the square, all under the watchful eyes of their ancestors, just like today¡¯s chieftain election.


    The tribal chieftains formed a circle. They watched with varied expressions, all focusing on the two Legion Commanders in front of the fire pit.


    Jiowar, with feathers in his vine hat and dressed in a thick cotton armor covered by a long cloak, held a sharp war club in his hand and a costly bronze axe at his waist, looking proudly at his opponent.


    "Nelpa, give up. You stand no chance! You are a mighty Head Warrior of our tribe, and your bravery should be displayed on the battlefield, not here!"


    "Jiowar, though I may not understand the governance of a city-state, I possess the heart of an Otomi!"


    Nelpa, equally armed and holding a war club, was in his early thirties, younger, strong, and an exceptional warrior. Each of his cheeks bore several butterfly-like scars, emblematic of his combat achievements, akin to the record of slaying ten or twenty opponents.


    "Saka the Priest is right, beneath the facade of an Otomi lies the heart of a Mexica!"


    Nelpa looked toward the eastern royal banner of the Black Wolf, to Mexica¡¯s highness sitting before the ancestral tomb, rage igniting in his eyes.


    "Jiowar, to secure an independent future for the Otomi, I must stop you and Olte the Priest from walking further down this misguided path!"


    "Nelpa, your spirit is lost in the forest, shrouded in mist, and can no longer communicate. Let us then follow the tribe¡¯s tradition and let the chieftains decide!"


    Jiowar knit his brows, looking at the warrior brainwashed by Saka the Priest, and shook his head in resignation. He then turned to the seated tribal chieftains, the ultimate election before him.


    "Praise the Chief Divine!"


    His Highness Xiulote stood up and walked toward the center of the square, followed closely by the Head Warrior and the Black Wolf. Under the awed gaze of the crowd, the King approached Jiowar, raising the Divine Staff in his hand.


    "Before the tribal election, I wish to inform all chieftains that I come with my legions and good intentions!"


    The King¡¯s gaze, sharp as an eagle¡¯s, swept over those present. The chieftains bowed their heads one after another, in a show of respect.


    "My good intentions are reserved for those I trust! Jiowar is my blood-sworn younger brother, who risked his life for me in battle! For life, I shall shelter him. If he becomes the leader of the mountain city, then I, representing the powerful Alliance, will protect the ancestral lands of the Otomi people!"


    A low murmur arose in the square. Saka¡¯s face grew solemn as he stood up and shouted to the assembled chieftains.


    "Chieftains of the Otomi! Do not forget the wars and famines of the past, and everything the Mexica have done to us! They worship the War God and are cruel, greedy beasts. They continually look for sacrifices, and the hunger in their bellies is never satisfied! Now they stretch their claws once more toward the ancestral lands of the mountain city, toward the necks of millions of Otomi..."


    On hearing the words of Saka the Priest, the murmur grew louder. Some chieftains looked hesitant, but most tribal chieftains remained unfazed, their expressions flickering. They, who held the power of life and death over thousands in their hands, would not be easily swayed by words of hatred like the lower samurai.


    "My children! The Canine Descendants are moving south, and the Otomi are in peril! Most of the Pamus State has fallen, and the barbarians have settled on our ancestral lands. With unending wars, this year¡¯s spring plowing will be greatly delayed, and a new famine looms ahead!"


    Olte the Elder Priest stood solemnly, raising his voice in urgent entreaty.


    "The Otomi need warriors adept in combat as well as grain to overcome this hardship! At this moment of survival, the Divine has granted us protective light! The Kingdom of the Lake to the south is a reliable friend. And His Highness Xiulote is the Sun of the Otomi..."


    As the Elder Priest¡¯s words spread, the chieftains instantly fell silent, and then a low murmur rose. The Sun was not a title used lightly, as it was considered the supreme ruler of the world among the peoples of the land, and to call someone the Sun often meant submission!


    After some time of disorderly noise, the gathering quietened. A chieftain from Pamus State rose first. He bowed respectfully to the King and then, representing the northern Otomi Tribes, he spoke urgently.


    "Respected highness of the Mexica, Mespa of Pamus State salutes you! The beasts of the jungle submit to the strong, and the northern Otomi need your protection! If you send your legions north, we will submit to you and follow your banner into battle!"


    ```


    Xiulote nodded and offered a serene smile. He looked around the hall once again, then lowered the Divine Staff and tapped its end to produce a "ding-dong" sound.


    "The Chief Divine¡¯s light shines on the Otomi as well! However, the gods¡¯ protection requires devout offerings, and the cost of destiny¡¯s gifts has long been marked! Otomi, I come with the King¡¯s goodwill and await your goodwill in return!"


    The tribal chiefs looked at each other before another middle-aged chieftain from the Guamare State stood up.


    "Praise the War God! Respected Your Highness, we revere your courage to enter the city and submit to the voice of Divine Revelation, and we trust in the selection by Priest Olte! Fate is a raging river, and as we approach it with our shadows, we must let our legs be immersed. But..."


    At this point, the middle-aged chieftain paused and warily looked toward the King.


    "The canine descendants on the wilderness are endless, the highland to the north is always barren, with even more desolation further north. The Otomi can only fight, build, and farm! We lack the wealth of the Southern Tribes, nor do we have the rainforest¡¯s bountiful produce. We yearn for your aid, but what can we offer in exchange?"


    Hearing this essential question, Xiulote¡¯s eyes grew profound.


    "I am a generous King, I will not covet the mouths you feed, the fields you till, or the control of the mountain city. The Otomi shall elect their own leaders, continuing the glory of their ancestors... But, you must bathe in the Chief Divine¡¯s light, accept sacred guidance! You must gather beneath my banner, and fight for the holy will! You must trade valiant and loyal combat for the rewards of wealth and glory!..."


    He continued, his voice rich with meaning and laced with a smile. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Of course, all this is based on our mutual trust, and the election of the chieftain before us!"


    Hearing this, the middle-aged chieftain nodded in understanding and bowed his head solemnly in salutation.


    "Your Highness, my respects. I am Chalki of the Guamare State, please remember my name..."


    "Enough! The sun has reached its zenith, and the Ancestral Gods watch over the land. Now, let the election begin!"


    The bone horn was played, and an elderly female voice rose, just as it had thousands of years ago in the age of tribal times. The old Priest stepped forward, raising the Divine Staff in his hand. Across him, Priest Saka¡¯s face turned ashen, as he also stepped forward. The former leader Aquili¡¯s wife entered the center of the hall, walked between the two legion commanders, and continued to call out with a shrill voice.


    "Chieftains, the Ancestral Gods watch over us! According to tradition, follow the man of your choice with your feet! Those supporting Nelpa, stand behind Priest Saka. Those supporting Jiowar, stand behind Priest Olte!... The ancestors witness everything, and all Tribes must abide by the Tribal Assembly¡¯s decision. No matter the outcome, the Otomi must not divide!..."


    The Otomi chieftains exchanged glances, then silently rose, casting their votes with their feet. Chieftain Mespa was the first to stand, walking behind Priest Olte, followed by many chieftains from the Pamus State. Then, Chieftain Chalki nodded at the old Priest and led the chieftains of the Guamare State right behind them. The chieftains of the Otapan State erupted into a quarrel and left in discontent. Three-tenths of them went to Priest Saka, while the rest, seven-tenths, came to stand behind Olte.


    The result was clear at a glance. The old Priest stood tall, backed by a massive throng; Saka looked downcast, with only a sparse twenty or thirty people behind him. Nearly ninety percent of the Otomi chieftains ultimately chose to support Jiowar, electing him the military leader of the mountain city homeland, the nominal speaker of the Otomi Alliance!


    "The ancestors witness from their graves; a new leader has been born! The Tribal Assembly decrees, the chieftain of the mountain city homeland, heir to the Ancestral Scepter, is..."


    The elderly woman¡¯s voice rose again but was abruptly cut off by a loud cry of anger.


    "The ancestors and gods witness! Jiowar, you traitor who has betrayed the tribe!"


    Seeing the situation irretrievable, Nelpa clenched his teeth, his face showing a determination to die. He suddenly raised his War Club and roared loudly.


    "I swear on the Samurai¡¯s dignity and equal honor, I challenge you to a holy duel! The graves of our ancestors will be our graves too. I will duel you to the death!"


    "Nelpa, have you gone mad? To risk your life and challenge me to a duel?"


    Jiowar was taken aback, almost in disbelief, as he looked at the middle-aged Samurai before him, standing firm as a rock.


    Even after failing to secure participation in the territorial election, Nelpa was still a powerful tribal chief, with a prestigious position, commanding thousands of Samurai, and with no threat to his life. The holy duel to the death was only between equals in status and was bound to end with one¡¯s fall. Although it was an old tradition to resolve significant disputes among the tribes, a remnant of the era of tribal warfare, it had been years since such a duel had occurred among the chieftains.


    "Jiowar, if you are a coward who fears battle, then step down from the position of chief! Only a leader who does not fear life and death can lead the Otomi to vitality!"


    Hearing this, Jiowar glanced at the many chieftains present and deeply furrowed his brow. Among the warrior-prizing highland tribes, being called a coward was the most contemptible of insults. With the conversation reaching this point, despite his right to refuse Nelpa¡¯s challenge, he would leave a lifelong stain and struggle to command respect ever after. Besides... Jiowar squinted his narrow eyes and laid his hand on the robe at his waist, then his brow smoothed out.


    "Nelpa, since you are so bent on seeking death, then come!"

 Chapter 591 - 289: Life and Death

    The scorching sun cast its rays, the bonfire sent up blue smoke, and the Priest blew the bone horn. The tribal chieftains¡¯ gazes were fervent as they looked toward the two captains by the fire pond, shouting out in excitement.


    Jiowar and Nelpa each held a war club, standing opposite each other. According to tribal tradition, both were without shields, and victory or defeat would be determined in moments. Jiowar raised his war club in front, slightly retracting his right arm, adopting a defensive stance.


    "Come on, Nelpa. Attack with all your might! Just like when you were a child and I trained you in martial arts!" At these words, Nelpa¡¯s gaze flashed. The two were eight years apart in age, both born in the mountain city from Divine Descendant lineage, having known each other since childhood, fighting side by side many times... Nelpa shook his head vigorously, saying in a deep voice,


    "Jiowar, I thank you for your teachings back then. I have surpassed you in martial arts! You were once a brother I respected, but now, you are mistaken!"


    Having said this, Nelpa¡¯s expression became resolute. He took small steps, raising his war club diagonally, slowly advancing toward Jiowar, then suddenly stepped forward and made a fierce diagonal chop!


    Expecting this powerful strike, Jiowar was prepared. He agilely stepped back, then swung his war club up to block, emitting a "thud" from their clashing. The weapons touched and instantly separated; Nelpa immediately shifted his steps to the left, changing position, and furiously swung out his war club in another swift strike!


    Jiowar slightly furrowed his brows, retreating and blocking again. Nelpa was in his early thirties, at the peak of his physical condition, very swift and powerful, his battle technique not lacking in the slightest, even more fierce! He was like a fluttering butterfly, constantly circling Jiowar, each approach a strike aimed at vital points!


    As both rapidly exhausted their strength, Jiowar¡¯s brow furrowed deeper and deeper, his blocking movements becoming increasingly strenuous. He was forced to keep moving back, soon reaching the fire of the fire pond, with no room to retreat! Seeing this, a light flashed in Nelpa¡¯s eyes, his face revealing a victorious smile, then shifting to faint sadness.


    "Jiowar, my brother. You have aged, you are mistaken. Allow me to send you on your way! Roar!"


    Nelpa let out a dull growl, like the roar of a fierce beast. He strode forward, no longer holding back, rushing within two steps of Jiowar. Then, he made a swift vertical chop, drawing his opponent¡¯s war club upward, followed by a twist of his own club, both hands gripping, tracing a clever arc toward his opponent¡¯s exposed waist and abdomen, delivering a lethal horizontal slash!


    "It¡¯s over!"


    Jiowar¡¯s tightly furrowed brow suddenly loosened, turning into an indifferent smile. He murmured softly, similarly gripping the club with both hands, making the exact same move, powerfully slashing horizontally toward his opponent¡¯s chest and neck.


    "Chief Divine!"


    The tribal chieftains at the venue suddenly gasped. Both captains simultaneously slashing at each other¡¯s vital points, were they going to die together?


    "Sss... clang!"


    The swinging war club successfully cut through the cotton robe, breaking the surface of the cotton armor, then suddenly paused, emitting a sharp metallic clash!


    "What? This!..."


    Nelpa¡¯s confident expression instantly froze. He struck his opponent¡¯s vital point first, yet his slash hit solid metal, unable to penetrate his opponent¡¯s armor and inflict any real damage!


    "Roar!"


    Jiowar cried out in pain, yet his attacking movements were not deformed, remaining firm and forceful, striking the vital spot.


    The war club arrived in an instant, with Nelpa too old to dodge. He exerted all his strength, slightly turning his body, then felt an intense pain in his chest.


    "Ah!"


    Jiowar penetrated the cotton armor with a successful strike, giving his opponent no chance for a turnaround. He advanced another step forward, pulling out the bronze axe from his waist with his left hand, mercilessly chopping toward Nelpa¡¯s neck!


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    Blood instantly spurted, splattering all over Jiowar¡¯s face and head, turning his world a bloody red. Nelpa issued only a half-scream, suddenly losing all strength. Like a punctured swim bladder, he lay there bleeding out, collapsing limply to the ground.


    Jiowar swiftly retreated two steps, quickly wiping the warm blood splattered into his eyes with his sleeve. Then, he stared at the motionless Nelpa, gripping his weapon, and slowly walked forward.


    Nelpa¡¯s eyes were wide open, quietly lying on the ground, gazing at the profound sky. His mouth moved silently, but produced no sound, only the soft whisper of flowing blood. Jiowar looked on for a moment, then carefully crouched down, putting his ear close to Nelpa¡¯s mouth.


    "...wa...you...wrong..."


    The last brightness burst in Nelpa¡¯s eyes. He tried to speak, but could only utter faint whimpers. Jiowar had just managed to make out three words when the whimpers completely disappeared into the wind.


    Jiowar lowered his gaze, extending his hand to close Nelpa¡¯s wide-open eyes. Memories surfaced in his mind, then he forcefully suppressed them. After a while, he finally spoke to his friend who could no longer hear,


    "This tumultuous world, roiling like cloudy liquor, this mountain city so remote, merely the residue of brewing... Nelpa, our clinking glasses had no right or wrong, only to the death..."


    Jiowar finished speaking softly, closed his eyes for a few moments as if in silent prayer. Soon, the tribal chieftains¡¯ shouts vigorously resounded, the swelling cries lifting him to the heights they craved!


    "Leader of the mountain city!"


    "Chieftain of the Otomi people!"


    "Bird hunter, king of bird hunters!..."


    Listening to the cheers of the crowd, Jiowar slowly stood up, his face alight with a joyous smile. In the myths passed down, the ancestors of the Otomi were hunters from the northern highlands, and the meaning of Otomi is "bird hunter." They settled in towering mountain cities and acquired a certain divinity from the divine birds of the sky.


    "Ancestors bear witness! The chieftain of the mountain city ancestral lands, the inheritor of the ancestor¡¯s scepter, is the mountain city¡¯s Divine Descendant Nobility, Jiowar!"


    An elderly woman¡¯s voice rang out high, declaring an end to the election. All eyes focused on the newly standing speaker, no longer paying attention to the blood-stained corpse lying down. Jiowar walked forward, taking the ancestral scepter from the former chieftain¡¯s wife, as cheers erupted once more.


    Jiowar looked around, taking steps toward the east side of the assembly. He came before Xiulote, slowly knelt on one knee, and then lifted the scepter with both hands, respectfully bowing his head.


    "Your Highness, I dedicate the glory of the Otomi to you, to the supreme King, to the Otomi¡¯s Sun!"


    The assembly hall fell silent immediately; the chieftains exchanged glances¡ªthis was a sacred ritual of allegiance.


    Under the Wolf Banner, Xiulote smiled with satisfaction. He took Jiowar¡¯s scepter, firmly grasped the other¡¯s hair, and then returned the scepter to Jiowar¡¯s hands. Then, he removed the Sun Amulet from his neck and, in front of everyone, placed it around Jiowar¡¯s neck.


    "The highest Chief Divine blesses you! Jiowar, the great Alliance witnesses everything. From today, you are the City Lord of Otapan, the leader of the Otomi!"


    Jiowar stood up, turning toward the people in the assembly. He stood beside the king, raising the ancestral scepter high with one hand and clasping the Sun Amulet around his neck with the other. Seeing this historic moment, the tribal leaders were momentarily speechless, then suddenly erupted into fervent cheers.


    "The City Lord of the Mexica Alliance, the leader of the Otomi!..."


    The eyes of the Saka Priest burned with fire. He stepped over Nelpa¡¯s cold corpse without a glance. Under everyone¡¯s gaze, the Chaos Priest approached Jiowar and shouted angrily.


    "Jiowar, as the military leader of the tribe, you have converted to the War God of the Mexica!"


    "Saka Priest, the War God is also our divinity, protecting the Otomi,"


    Action had replied, narrowing his eyes calmly.


    "This is outright betrayal! Under your and Olte¡¯s leadership, the Otomi are heading down a path of evil, forsaken by our Ancestor Divine!"


    Saka roared, turning to the tribal leaders present and loudly cursing.


    "To ally with the greedy Mexica, how could you not pay a price? Standing in front of our ancestors¡¯ tombs, abandoning the faith of the Ancestor Divine, do you not feel ashamed?!"


    Upon hearing this, many tribal leaders turned their heads away, unable to face Saka¡¯s eyes, their guilt evident. Seeing this, Xiulote slightly furrowed his brows, quietly tapping Jiowar on the shoulder.


    "Saka, get out of the mountain city, you are the one betraying the tribe!"


    Jiowar, holding the Divine Staff high, sternly reprimanded.


    "Nelpa just confessed to me in his dying words!"


    "He said, the reason you oppose the Mexica and reject the Alliance¡¯s military assistance is that you had already conspired with the northern Canine Descendants, made kneeling agreements, and forfeited the lands of Pamus State! Your actions now are all for power, not considering the future of the Otomi at all!"


    Hearing this, the tribal leaders all showed a change in expression. Some kept silent, others showed doubt, all turning their esteemed gazes to Saka Priest.


    "What? What did you say?!"


    Shocked by the accusation, Saka¡¯s eyes turned red with anger.


    "This is complete slander!"


    "Saka, a new leader of the mountain city has been elected! Though you are the revered Chaos Priest, the Priesthood of the mountain city does not welcome you. Please leave immediately, return to your family¡¯s fief! A truly noble priest should lead warriors to the northern frontlines, to fight against the ferocious Canine Descendants, and not cause internal strife in the ancestral lands!"


    Olte raised the scepter and stepped forward. He quietly watched Saka¡¯s reddened eyes, Saka staring back intensely. After a moment, Saka glanced at the expressions of the surrounding tribal leaders, gritted his teeth.


    "Olte, you are wrong! Time of the Ancestor Divine will prove everything, we shall meet again!"


    After speaking, Saka led dozens of his direct lineage Temple priests and hundreds of loyal family warriors, dejectedly heading out of the city.


    Olte looked toward Xiulote, and the king nodded affirmatively. Five hundred barbarian mercenaries had already been ambushed in the forests outside of the city, and three hundred Jaguar Warriors were in charge of the cleanup. The old priest looked again at the backs of Saka and the priests, sighing heavily.


    "Saka, we¡¯ll meet again... Divine Kingdom, see you again!"

 Chapter 592 - 290: Canine Descendants Scout, Guajili Tribe

    The end of April carried the sound of the wind, and within the wind was hidden the roar of thunder. The thunder was disrupted by the rapid cries of battle, startling flocks of birds throughout the forest. The fighting on the northern border never ceased, as thousands of Canine Descendants continued to raid southward, constantly battling with the warriors of the Otapan State. Soon after, hundreds of Mexica scouts also joined the fray. The kingdom¡¯s elite warriors, fully armed and led by Otomi scouts, engaged in continuous combat with the Guajili people and gained a definitive upper hand.


    After several battles, the invading Guajili Tribe sensed something different. Soon, a brutal ambush unfolded in the mountain forests, and two red-haired senior Guajili warriors, with solemn expressions, carefully examined the bodies of a few new enemies.


    Due to low productivity, the Guajili people were still in the tribal era of wilderness, with a primitive tribal alliance just beginning to form. The populations of the large tribes were limited, the largest numbering only around ten thousand. There was no significant division of wealth within the tribes, and naturally, there were no nobles or samurai.


    Within the Guajili tribe, apart from a very small number of priests, there were usually just four brutal levels: the first level comprised boys who could not fight and could be abandoned by the tribe at any time; the second level consisted of young men who could fight and procreate, considered the foundation of tribal survival; the third level included warriors skilled in combat, each a core of tribal strength; the last were senior warriors who had survived battles and truly held power within the tribe. These senior warriors often dyed their hair the sacred red, as a symbol of being blessed by the spirits. As for the old and weak who could neither fight nor labor hard, they were generally not treated as humans and did not live long.


    "Damn it! Amoxtli, where did these enemies come from? They¡¯re as hard and prickly as highland cacti!"


    Looking at the bodies of the fallen Canine Descendants around him, the young red-haired warrior growled in anger.


    "I used a hundred-man team, yet couldn¡¯t surround even twenty of them! The tribe lost twenty-five warriors to leave less than ten bodies!"


    "Ivican, in the wilderness, angry coyotes cannot catch vigilant gazelles. You need to suppress your anger, learn to observe and wait."


    The older red-haired warrior, Amoxtli, shook his head. He carefully touched the bodies in front of him, then arranged what he found in a row.


    "A short obsidian dagger, an obsidian club, five packages of replaceable obsidian blades. Hiss, this is a wealthy tribe indeed!"


    Amoxtli exclaimed in surprise. He continued his inspection, a hint of confusion in his expression.


    "A golden necklace with sun and hummingbirds, seems like a prayer tool. Huh, it¡¯s not wooden, but the city-state people¡¯s favorite gold?"


    "A short-handled...axe? What is this made of? Really sharp and tough, good stuff!"


    "Mmm, a sturdy vine hat, a shield of wooden vine, and a complete set of cotton armor, the vital parts strengthened with leather. Hmm, this smell, is it soaked in precious oils? No wonder the warriors¡¯ hunting bows couldn¡¯t penetrate!"


    "Finally, a small cotton bag containing...dry leaves and fresh grass?"


    Amoxtli examined it for a moment, but it revealed nothing. He turned and shouted loudly.


    "Ivican, you are the scout captain of the ¡¯Red Fox¡¯ tribe, with more inherited knowledge than me. Come and take a look, what are these?"


    Ivican approached, frowning. He picked up the leaves, sniffed them hard, and then tasted a bit of the fresh grass.


    "Hmm, feather-like leaves, special fragrance, ink tree leaves? A spicy taste and fresh juice, is it hot herd grass? Ah, these are expensive medicinal herbs carefully collected and treasured by tribal priests for healing and stopping blood, appearing on an ordinary scout! Damn it, damn it!"


    Suddenly inflamed by something, Ivican¡¯s anger blazed like a flame. He furiously pulled a cactus fruit from his waist and threw it high into the sky. Then, the scout captain removed the small hunting bow from his back, fitted a reed shaft with a beast fang arrow, and "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" shot into the sky!


    His archery was so exquisite that each arrow hit the cactus fruit accurately, even aligning with the previous arrow! The fist-sized fruit stayed in the air for a good dozen breaths before turning into dozens of pieces, scattering onto the ground.


    "Wow, praise the Wind God, truly the archery of a Divine Eagle shooter! Worthy of being the great tribe¡¯s scout captain!"


    Amoxtli smiled broadly, his praise genuine. After the outburst, Ivican¡¯s emotions finally settled. He stamped his foot fiercely.


    "Damn it! Good shooting, but what does it matter? These new enemies are well-equipped and formidable fighters, completely unlike the poor, battle-shy Otomi people! Each one of them is richer, each has sturdy armor and a helmet, even thick shields! Our tribal archers, proud of their skill, cannot break their defense, causing effective damage!"


    Ivican gritted his teeth. He had only a hunting bow, a stone long spear, tattered cotton armor, and an obsidian dagger. He had recently seized the cotton armor and dagger from the Otomi. Now, as the scout captain looked at the equipment laid out on the ground, his eyes reddened as he continued to angrily curse.


    "Damn it! From where does this enormous tribe come? War clubs, short daggers, hand axes, shields... the weaponry of a single scout enough to arm three tribal warriors! Their fighting skills far surpass the Otomi, and their will to fight is much stronger. Even when surrounded by many times their number of enemies, no one wavered or surrendered. Truly dangerous Jaguars! With spring plowing imminent, how can the tribe move south and settle peacefully without understanding these people?"


    "Ivican, I have asked the captured Otomi prisoners. These men are Aztec samurai, senior warriors of the Mexica Alliance. They were reinforcements invited by the Otomi, coming from the southern Mikenque Lake Region!"


    "Aztecs? Ah, the revered Cactus Tribe of the Rock who worship the sun? I have indeed heard of their prowess in battle... Mikenque Lake Region? Isn¡¯t that the territory of the Divine Eagle Tribe? How come there are Aztecs there?"


    "A year ago, the powerful Divine Eagle Tribe was annihilated by the even more powerful Aztecs. On the land of the Divine Eagle Tribe, the Great Chief of the Aztecs appointed a new Great Chief, Xiulote. It is said that he is a descendant of the God of Death and possesses the spells of spirits, equally formidable..."


    Amoxtli spoke earnestly, relaying a message that had been passed down several times.


    "Right, he is also the sworn elder brother of the new leader of the Otomi. At the request of the Otomi, he has led troops north to provide support this time, bringing with him a full ten thousand warriors!"


    "What? There are ten thousand such warriors?"


    Ivican took a sharp breath. He looked skeptical and turned to Amoxtli.


    "I don¡¯t believe it! Is this information accurate? Can the captured prisoners even count that many people?"


    "I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t believe it either. There are a few new Otomi captives in the tribe¡¯s camp, one of whom seems to be some nobility. You can go ask them yourself."


    Amoxtli shook his head. Such a huge number, he was definitely uncertain, thus equally skeptical.


    "Hmm! When the coyote hunts the antelope, where can it expose its back to the risky watch of the golden eagle? Amoxtli, the matter is urgent, let¡¯s head north, back to your tribe¡¯s camp now!"


    Amoxtli nodded in agreement. He took a few steps forward, then suddenly remembered something and quickly turned back. Following that, he grabbed a short dagger from the ground, clasping it in his hand; picked up a bronze axe, tucking it by his waist; and finally, collected the cloth bag of herbs, carefully tucking it into his chest.


    Ivican turned his head, seeing Amoxtli still reluctant and yelled loudly in frustration.


    "Dammit! Amoxtli, hurry up, important matters first! I will have the warriors save you a set of equipment!"


    "Ah, alright then! Ivican, my friend, make sure your words count!"


    Amoxtli reluctantly glanced at the worn cotton armor on the ground, then finally turned and began to run swiftly.


    The run of a canine descendant is always swift. The group hurried north, and within a day, they returned to the camp. Ivican promptly called the Otomi prisoners. After thoroughly questioning them for half a day, his expression became solemn, and he immediately took the prisoners northward.


    The scout team journeyed long distances, first crossing the southern borders of Pamus State, then running for two more days, and finally arrived at a warm valley. Towering mountains blocked the northern cold waves, isolating the dangerous cold outside. Babbling streams flowed down from the mountains, gathering in a shallow lake at the lower end of the valley.


    Thousands of Guajili canine descendants had settled by the lakeside of the valley. A red fox flag, a simple wooden fence, and hundreds of thatched huts formed the new campsite of the "Red Fox" tribe.


    Around the campsite, two hundred scout warriors patrolled. Seeing the distant arrival of Ivican¡¯s squad, they respectfully saluted the red-haired leader. Inside the camp, even more tribal warriors shouted, waving their weapons, maintaining the order of the tribe.


    Thousands of Otomi civilians, along with an equal number of Guajili tribals, busied themselves in the fertile soil by the lake. Most of these people were pale and thin, staggering as they engaged in extremely laborious work, yet they had very little food; every day, people fell and did not rise again. Under the strict orders of their leader, they burned the trees by the lake, cleared stones from the soil, pulled weeds from the fields, and worked hard to level the land, preparing it for spring plowing.


    Ivican stopped walking and looked towards the tribe in front of him. He was unconcerned about the piles of corpses in the corners, only seeing a bustling sign of life. The tribe struggled out from the cold snap, much like the grass that grows from the crevices of rocks, filled with new hope!


    The air by the lake was slightly moist, refreshing the spirits. The scout captain took several deep breaths to stabilize his emotions before taking the Otomi prisoners to the longhouse in the center of the tribe.


    Night fell and the moon rose, and the campfire in the longhouse burned all night until dawn. The next morning, several teams of envoys hurriedly departed, heading towards the surrounding large tribes. After that, as day and night changed, the envoys hurried back and forth, and scouts darted about like shot feathers.


    As the center of the envoys¡¯ exchanges, the chieftain¡¯s longhouse was always brightly lit day and night. Senior warriors continuously held meetings, and the noisy disputes emanated from the center of the tribe. Ten days quickly passed before the disputes subsided and the assembly barely reached a consensus.


    That day, the canine descendant¡¯s camp was abuzz. The tribe¡¯s horns sounded high and the exhilarating war drums roared like sudden rain. Soon, a hundred skilled red-haired warriors, each carrying a hunting bow, along with five hundred veteran tribal warriors, quickly left the camp. They ran like a pack of rampaging coyotes, emitting low roars, and soon blended into the southern woods, completely vanishing from sight.


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 Chapter 593 - Two Hundred Ninety-One: The May Cicadas Singing

    ```


    The Canine Descendants¡¯ warriors headed south, while the Allied Forces¡¯ scouts went north. As both approached each other for reconnaissance, they were destined to meet among the mountain forests of the Highland. From Otapan State to Pamus State, skirmishes between scout squads were unending, with hundreds of warriors falling. Blood, warm as it flowed, stained the lush green grass, nourishing the yellow soil of the Highland and soaking the wild forests outside the mountain city.


    The situation in Otapan State became increasingly tense, with the presence of Canine Descendants being more and more common. Soon, a shocking piece of news reached the mountain city.


    The Chaos Priest Saka and his retinue were ambushed on the return to their fief. The treacherous wilderness swallowed everything, and all of Saka¡¯s line of priests were slain in battle, with none spared. The few surviving samurai fled into the mountain city, providing a description of their attackers¡¯ faces, attire and weapons. The knowledgeable old priest Olte, with a sorrowful expression, personally inquired and confirmed the assailants were without a doubt the Canine Barbarians.


    Upon hearing this tragic news, the tribal leaders in the mountain city responded with emotions ranging from righteous indignation to sorrow and fear, shock and dismay, and some even traveled to the chieftain¡¯s longhouse overnight, swearing allegiance to Jiowar.


    Afterward, Jiowar himself led samurai to the site of the attack. He collected the bodies of the priests, held a funeral prayer, and then cremated them with his own hands in the wind. The wisps of blue smoke from the pyre twirled into the air, carrying away the departed spirits and also the disputes of the past. After the funeral, the prestige of the new leader rose again, and the old priest¡¯s authority returned to its peak. Because in life, the king is victorious, and in death, paths diverge, everything became inevitable.


    Days later, the Kingdom¡¯s Wolf Banner was raised high upon the city walls, alongside the new leader¡¯s Black Bird Banner. In the central Temple, the flags of the War God and the Ancestral God were successively erected, waving high above. These changes happened quietly yet were also expected. The once scattered hearts of the mountain city¡¯s people were thus united as one.


    The night left with the wind, and the day brought clouds and rain, the Ancestral God sighing thunderstorms. The smoke from the burning fields rose in the countryside, and the melodious songs lightly echoed through the sky. Thus May descended in songs wrapped in curling smoke, entwined with the first rain of spring.


    Xiulote stood atop the walls of Otapan City, gazing at the birds in flight among the mountains. Large flocks of migrating sparrows lingered around the mountain city, long refraining from heading north. They seemed to consider this place their new home, even beginning to build nests.


    "Spring plowing is imminent, yet the cold wave from the north has not yet dissipated. It seems the Guajili Canine Descendants are determined not to retreat."


    "Your Highness is wise. Scouts have reported back that the Guajili Canine Descendants have already built camps, taken over the fertile soil by the river, and started to settle in Pamus State one after another. Eight large Tribes have spread out, each occupying a warm valley. They have kidnapped mountaineers adept at farming and stolen enough grain to replant the northern fields, hurrying to prepare for the upcoming spring plowing. Meanwhile, tribes of a thousand members are spreading out to loot, with five or six of them having infiltrated the northern borders of Otapan State, and even squads of Canine Descendants approaching the outskirts of the mountain city."


    At this point, Bertade glanced at the Otomi Warriors guarding in the distance and cautiously lowered his voice.


    "Accompanying these common Tribes, there have also been two parties of red-haired scouts from the large Tribes. They encountered our scouts without conflict, and instead, they brought verbal messages."


    "Oh? Messages from the Guajili Canine Descendants?"


    Xiulote¡¯s eyebrows rose.


    "What did they say?"


    "The eight large Tribes have formed a preliminary Tribal Alliance. The Alliance¡¯s leader is Chichika of the ¡¯Red Dog¡¯ Tribe, and the deputy leader is Otuwa of the ¡¯Red Fox¡¯ Tribe. Otuwa is also an elder Tribal Priest. Hearing of the Imperial Guard Legion¡¯s northern march, he sent out scouts as envoys, expressing respect to the Great Chiefs of the Mexica from the ¡¯brothers¡¯ of ¡¯Aztec¡¯."


    "Chichika, chichi hunting dogs? Otuwa, oztohua foxes?"


    Xiulote muttered these two names, easily finding similar meanings within the Mexica language. He furrowed his brows.


    "They refer to us as ¡¯brothers¡¯ from ¡¯Aztec¡¯?"


    ```


    "Yes, Your Highness. The language of the Guajili people is similar to that of the Otomi people, and it also has some similarities to ours... Of course, we Mexica people have no blood relation with them. Those who truly share our lineage are the sworn enemies of the Alliance in the East, the Tlaxcala people."


    Xiulote nodded. This linguistic lineage concealed the true history of tribal migrations thousands of years ago, which was meaningless at this moment.


    "What did the Guajili envoy say?"


    "Hearing of the Alliance¡¯s fame, and knowing of Your Highness¡¯s divinity, the Guajili people wish to coexist peacefully with us. They are willing to submit to the Alliance in name, using the current territory of the Pamus State as the border and guaranteeing the stability of the northern border, no longer pillaging to the south. Moreover, they have received information from the Guamal Canine Descendants and request trade with the Alliance. They want to exchange captives, gold, and silver obtained from pillaging for food, salt, cotton, and sacred red furs and dyes necessary for survival. Lastly, Otuwa has another proposition..."


    Bertade paused, casting a cautious glance around.


    "What proposition?"


    Xiulote showed some interest. The words of the envoy indicated the Guajili people were not mere barbarians who fought like wild beasts, utterly incapable of communication¡ªat least the leaders of the tribe weren¡¯t.


    "Otuwa sends his regards to the Great Chief of the Mexica. The Guajili Tribe is willing to send troops to cooperate with the Alliance to eliminate the Otomi forces in the remaining two states! After the eradication of the Otomi people, they only ask for food and living supplies to sustain their tribe; they have no desire for land or captives, all of which would belong to the Alliance!"


    "Ha ha, such a simplistic ploy of sowing discord..."


    Hearing this, Xiulote laughed heartily. Naturally, there was no basis for trust between the Alliance and the Guajili people, thus no possibility of cooperation. Yet the Guajili¡¯s proposal struck at the heart of greed. Land and captives were exactly what a king desired, making him somewhat emotional.


    "Such a cunning fox! Should the Alliance show even a hint of indecision and reply to the Canine envoy, it¡¯s likely that divisive rumors would spread everywhere, undermining our mutual trust with the Otomi people."


    The King shook his head. His eyes shone brightly as he spoke with certainty.


    "The Otomi people are friends of the Alliance, the future citizens of the Kingdom. The Guajili Canine Descendants are our enemies, the target of our current military campaign. The Kingdom¡¯s strategy has already been decided, not to be swayed in the slightest! Order the Scouts, from now on, to treat any Guajili envoys as enemy warriors¡ªto be killed on sight without discussion!" S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bertade immediately took out paper and pen, recording the Prince¡¯s Royal Decree. After pondering for a moment, he spoke thoughtfully.


    "Your Highness, should your Royal Decree also be communicated to the Otapan Legion? On one hand, it will inform General Jiowar and settle the Otomi people¡¯s minds; on the other hand, it will also consolidate command of the Mountain City¡¯s army under the Kingdom."


    Xiulote contemplated for a while and then nodded in agreement. He smiled as he gave the orders.


    "A fine suggestion, do just that! Ha ha, Bertade, since Jiowar has independently become the leader of the Otomi people, it¡¯s not appropriate to continue using his old title¡ªhe deserves due respect. From today, inform all military leaders that Jiowar is now a Prince of the Kingdom, and his place is right by my side! Hmm, dispatch an Envoy to the Lake Capital City to report the latest news of the Otomi people to King Aweit. Also, send a trusted aide to invite Prince Jiowar to dine with me this evening."


    "In recent days, Jiowar has been quite busy, continuously summoning tribal leaders and arousing warriors from all over. The most important matters in the world are nothing but sacrifice, agriculture, and warfare. Now that spring plowing is upon us and people¡¯s hearts are focused on their fields, while Canine raids become more frequent, it¡¯s time to sit down and seriously discuss matters of farming and deploying troops!"


    The King¡¯s voice dissipated into the wind, blending with the soft chirping of cicadas. In May, cicadas chirp, and in July, meteors fly. The scorching summer was just around the corner, like the thunder of the rainy season, heralding the prelude to war.

 Chapter 594 - 292: The Generals Deliberate on Deploying Troops

    The night breeze was warm, and the bonfire shone brightly. Everyone sat around the fire pit in Tribe Square, under the open sky and on the ground, eating steaming food and discussing important military and state affairs.


    The Mountain City¡¯s food supply was not plentiful, so the feast was naturally simple. The main dishes were fragrant corn tortillas and soft black bean paste; side dishes included roasted cactus, boiled green beans, and pumpkin soup, with the rare treat of spicy roasted turkey. Finally, there were some seasonal fruits and lightly sweet rice wine.


    Jiowar personally took on the task of roasting a turkey leg. He carefully rubbed it with salt and spices, brushed it with some honey, and respectfully handed it to the King sitting beside him. The King took it, took a bite, and his eyebrows relaxed at once, a smile appearing on his face.


    "Sweet and salty blend together, crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, flavorful and rich on the palate, it is indeed cooked to perfection!"


    Xiulote, wearing a loose robe, sat at the chief seat at the head. On his left were generals from the Kingdom¡¯s lineage, Legion Commander Bertade, Black Wolf Torc, and the Hawk Balda. To his right were the leaders of the Otomi lineage, with the newly appointed Prince Jiowar in the front, followed by the old Priest Olte, and the two great Chieftains Mespa and Chalki.


    Clearly, the people present were the true rulers of the Otomi Tri-state. Tonight¡¯s feast was also, in fact, a military meeting of the Tribe. Soon, everyone had some main dishes and drank some rice wine, then relaxed their restraint and started discussing the upcoming military and government arrangements.


    "The current situation is with the Canine Descendants harassing us from the south, while Mountain City¡¯s spring sowing is imminent. How many troops can each state mobilize? Do you wish to march north swiftly, or wait until after the spring sowing? Everyone speak freely and let me hear your thoughts!"


    Xiulote took a sip of rice wine, looked up at the dazzling expanse of stars in the sky for a while, then set down his cup, his face beaming with a smile as he looked towards the people.


    "Your Highness! Pamus State has three thousand warriors here, ready for battle at any time! There are many City-States in the north that are still holding on. With the large army pressing northward, and by assailing them from within and without, it will take just half a month to break the Guajili people!"


    The great Chieftain Mespa was the first to stand, saluting the King and stating his support for a rapid northern campaign.


    With the states fallen and Tribes scattered, the lead figures of Pamus State retreated with their family¡¯s warriors to ancestral lands, depending on others for survival. With spring sowing around the corner, they gathered in Mountain City, without even a plot of land to call their own, naturally filled with the desire to drive out the Canine Descendants and reclaim their old fiefs.


    "Three thousand warriors, ready for battle at any time."


    Xiulote nodded slightly. The Pamus State had succumbed quickly, retreating with just over three thousand. Although not numerous, these Pamus warriors¡¯ willingness to fight could be trusted. They would fight to the death to reclaim their homes, and their familiarity with the terrain could make them the vanguard or the surprise force for the large army.


    "Respected Your Highness, Guamare State, too, is being harassed by the Canine Descendants in the north. Spring sowing is at hand, and even if the leaders do everything in their power, we can only mobilize three thousand warriors..."


    Hearing this number, Xiulote¡¯s brows furrowed slightly, and Mespa¡¯s face was filled with anger. Chalki quickly continued to explain.


    "However, if we can wait until the spring sowing is over, as early as the end of June, Guamare State can mobilize five thousand warriors to go to war!"


    Xiulote nodded. The figures here were Soldiers and did not include the Militia responsible for transporting supplies and guarding the roads. From what Chalki said, it seemed Guamare State hoped to go to war after the spring sowing.


    The King reflected for a moment, then looked towards Jiowar.


    "Brother, the Ototpan Mountain City will follow your decree to the letter, and we are ready for battle anytime before or after the spring sowing! Excluding the troops that must be kept for defense, Mountain City can mobilize eight thousand warriors and twelve thousand Militia!"


    Upon hearing Jiowar¡¯s words, the King was somewhat surprised. Although after two years of growth, the population of the Otapan State was estimated to be only about two hundred thousand. The number of troops mentioned was almost the limit that the Mountain City could marshal, signifying that Jiowar had complete control of the ancestral land.


    "Excellent!"


    Xiulote showed a smile, patting Jiowar on the shoulder. This way, between one and two thousand Otomi Warriors and an equal number of Militia could be assembled. He looked to the generals on his left; Bertade was calm, Balda was eager, and Torc stood up directly, boldly requesting the assignment.


    "Why mobilize a large army and affect this year¡¯s spring sowing? The Canine Descendants are but scurrying porcupines, not worth one blow! Your Highness, I, Black Wolf Torc, am willing to lead an army into battle! Just give me five thousand elite troops, and I promise to directly storm their den and crush them all!"


    Upon hearing this, the King nodded in approval. He looked at his confident officer and laughed out loud.


    "Haha! Black Wolf, I trust in your bravery! I will give you five thousand..."


    "Your Highness, I have some suggestions to make!"


    The old Priest Olte had been silent until now, but suddenly he spoke up.


    Xiulote paused, glancing at the solemn old Priest, and nodded with a smile.


    "Priest Olte, as the elder here, please feel free to speak your mind!"


    Hearing this, the old Priest straightened up, his expression resolute and his voice booming. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, we Otomi people have established ourselves in the north and have battled the Canine Descendants for a hundred years. The Priesthood has always been collecting their data, and we are more than familiar with their habits. The wilderness Canine Descendants are usually undisciplined and impulsive, Tribal Warriors are often ill-disciplined and bad at formation battles. While their Archery is exceedingly exquisite, they lack good arrows and bows. In a direct confrontation, the more troops the Canine Descendants amass, the poorer their average combat effectiveness will become!"


    "Oh? The more troops they amass, the poorer their average combat effectiveness will become¡­"


    Hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression shifted. He thought of some familiar stories.


    "However, Your Highness, you must not underestimate the Canine Descendants! The Canine Descendants excel at swift raids, capable of running fifty or even a hundred miles in a day, making them the world¡¯s best light infantry! They are naturally brutal and accustomed to abandoning their weak or injured kin. They can eat anything, which means their logistical needs are low..."


    Olte stopped there, but the generals understood what he implied. The old Priest looked at the frowning crowd and continued in a deep voice.


    "The Guajili Canine Descendants invading the south belong to dozens of different tribes. Their tactics are flexible, easily broken but difficult to inflict casualties on! If the battle turns adverse, the Canine Descendants will scatter and flee by tribe. But even when their tribes are scattered, they regroup quickly after retreating and resume raiding a region."


    "And when the Canine Descendants operate by tribe, avoiding large-scale frontal combat, their flexibility in battle will be maximally displayed! Raids, guerrilla warfare, plundering, sneak attacks... The Guajili are masters of small-scale combat, born hunters!"


    At this point, Olte widened his eyes, locking gaze with the proudly standing Black Wolf.


    "General Black Wolf, your bravery is famed throughout the world, and I have always held you in high esteem. But even if you lead thousands of elites and crush the Canine Descendants¡¯ tribal alliance in one battle, how much harm can you truly inflict? If dozens of Guajili tribes avoid combat and scatter in different directions, retreating day and night for nearly a hundred miles, how will you pursue and kill them? You must remember, the former leader of the Mountain City, Aquili, died from an ambush of hidden arrows while personally pursuing fleeing soldiers..."


    "Aquili? How can he compare to me?! I, Black Wolf..."


    Toltec¡¯s eyes bulged with rage. Just as he was about to retort loudly, he saw the Prince gesture for him to stop, and he obediently fell silent.


    Xiulote shifted his gaze, looking towards the white-haired old Priest.


    "Priest Olte, do you suggest we fight after spring plowing?"


    "Precisely, Your Highness. To expel the invading Canine Descendants, merely defeating them is of no use. We must either mobilize heavy forces and surround them, inflicting massive casualties and capturing their able-bodied men; or starve them of food, so they have no choice but to turn on each other and die of hunger!"


    The Priest¡¯s eyes deepened, and his voice carried a hint of chill that made everyone shiver.


    "Heavy forces for a mass killing, no food supplies?..."


    Xiulote pondered. He glanced at Bertade.


    "Head Warrior, how much food do the Guajili people have?"


    "According to the Scouts¡¯ reports, the large Guajili tribes have been plundering for months and are not short on food for the moment. They have enslaved thousands of Otomi and Pamus people and are clearing fields, preparing for spring plowing. Meanwhile, many ordinary tribes are still lacking food and continue to plunder."


    Hearing about the thousands of enslaved Otomi people, the old Priest¡¯s expression dimmed slightly, then turned resolute again.


    "Your Highness, if the major Guajili tribes can cultivate the land, they must have sufficient grain seeds, and their food stores should last until the October harvest. However, the northern frontier has always been harsh and poor, and they have come from a cold wave where everything withers. Those food stores must already be at their limits!"


    "If we gather the army and head north now, the Guajili people might give up spring plowing and temporarily retreat to the northern wilderness, avoiding battle and engaging us in guerrilla warfare. If the conflict drags on, it will completely disrupt the Mountain City¡¯s spring plowing, and the supply lines could become long and dangerous."


    "Avoid battle, long supply lines?"


    Xiulote¡¯s eyebrows raised. If the war turned out this way, it would be troublesome. The Spanish in later ages suffered under the guerrilla tactics of the Guajili Tribe, even with a one or two-era advantage in weapons and organization, they still suffered heavy losses and frustration in guerrilla warfare.


    "Yes, Your Highness. The eagle in the sky does not pounce lightly; when it strikes, it must hit! Now, we should concentrate our forces, defend against the Canine Descendants¡¯ plundering, and then evacuate the villages along the border, bringing in the peasants from the fields, ensuring the spring plowing around the Mountain City proceeds! If the Guajili people cannot plunder food and are not threatened, they will also settle down. Once they plant their seeds, putting all their hope in this year¡¯s spring plowing, they will be bound by the land they till!"


    The King slowly nodded. The common Milpa farming practice of broadcasting seeds for a meager yield would usually yield only "tenfold" at best, even with high-yield crops. Given the Canine Descendants¡¯ farming skills, they probably could achieve only "eightfold." To ensure a sufficient harvest, they would need to cultivate a large area and invest a significant amount of seeds.


    "As the seeds slowly grow into green shoots and the stored food gradually depletes, the Canine Descendants will become increasingly bound to the land, finding it difficult to leave. Therefore, August and September, the months before the harvest, are when the Canine Descendants are most short on food, when they can least afford to abandon their fields, and when we should launch the decisive battle! They will have no choice but to face us!"


    Hearing this, the old Priest stood up straight, his gaze proud. He suddenly swung his arms downwards, roaring like a groundhog.


    "Your Highness, after the spring plowing, mobilize in July, march out in August; it¡¯s the best opportunity! Let the invading Canine Descendants die before the fields they¡¯re about to harvest!"


    Xiulote watched the old Priest, his eyes reddening, and his white hair gleaming.


    Marching in August meant that in order to completely eliminate the Canine Descendants, they had to give up on the captured Otomi civilians in the north, as well as most of the nobility still holding out. Was this choice worth it?


    "As long as the cacao thrives, no matter if the grass turns to ash..."


    The King sighed internally but outwardly nodded solemnly, issuing his command with a heavy voice.


    "Olte, we shall do as you suggested! By the Royal Decree, Samurai prepare for war: Guard strategic points, defend against the Canine Descendants¡¯ raids; clear the fields, pull back from the border villages. Concentrate on spring plowing in May and June, begin mobilization in July, and march north in August to strike down the Canine Descendants once and for all!"

 Chapter 595 - 293: The Mountain Farmers in Spring Plowing, the Observing Canine Descendants

    The cool breeze swept through the treetops, the pines and cypresses sprouted new branches, and the grass grew lush, thick enough to conceal one¡¯s figure. In early June, the seasonal rains arrived on schedule, causing the smoke from slash-and-burn clearing to rise and then extinguish, leaving only a blackened residue of ashes behind.


    On a field of ashes, thousands of Otomi mountain people were engrossed in tilling the soil. Large swathes of farmland had already been sown. To guard against raids by the Canine Descendants, the able-bodied all carried stone-tipped Long Spears on their backs, and some had long slings at their waists. On a nearby small hill, there was a small unit, 20 Otomi Warriors. The warriors wore grey-blue Cotton Armor, carried War Clubs on their backs, and around their necks hung Bone Whistles for sounding alarms. They looked to the north with caution, glancing occasionally at the mountain people hard at work and then at the vibrant fields.


    The Otomi mountain folk bent over busily, breaking the soil with wooden and stone tools, carefully sowing their hopes for the year. And when they took a short rest, the majestic Ototpan Mountain City came into view at the end of their line of sight, standing tall on the distant southern horizon. The ancestral land of the mountain city, enduring through the ages like a Holy Mountain where deities dwelt, held the hearts of all the mountain people.


    Behind the mountain people, several babbling streams flowed down from the mountains, moisturizing the farmland along their paths. By the small lake where the streams converged, there was a large Otomi Village. This place was sixty miles north of Ototpan Mountain City, and it was also a northern key point that the warriors guarded.


    Now, fifty Mexica warriors holding Longbows, and two hundred Otomi warriors with shields and clubs, were stationed in the village¡¯s longhouses, with sturdy granaries nearby. In the village center, by the fire pit, there was also a pile of specially gathered firewood. When the number of approaching Canine Descendants neared a thousand, the warriors would ignite the firewood to call for reinforcements from the mountain city. Three battalions of a thousand men each were stationed a dozen miles to the south, ready to strike at any moment.


    A rustle of movement in the distant woods, and the warriors on the hill immediately stood and peered out, placing the Bone Whistle to their lips. Soon, a small team of Otomi Scouts emerged from the forest, followed by hundreds of mountain people carrying food and agricultural tools. The warriors of both sides exchanged fist salutes, relieved. The scouts looked over the cultivated fields and then continued to guide the newly arrived mountain people to the village for settlement.


    Not long ago, the Priesthood of the mountain city issued a divine decree: to evacuate the mountain people from the northern border, take all the food, and concentrate on farming in the large villages surrounding the mountain city. Then, with thousands of Otomi Warriors as escorts, the Priests who commanded allegiance went north to lead the people. They quickly evacuated villages of more than three hundred inhabitants. As for the smaller villages, they were left for the Scout Warriors to guide.


    The border evacuation had been going on for a month, and this batch of folk today was likely the last. The remaining tiny villages of just a few dozen people were hidden in the mountains and nearly impossible to find. They wouldn¡¯t have much food stored, so they weren¡¯t a concern.


    Ototpan Mountain City was more than two hundred miles away from the Pamus State. After the Canine Descendants¡¯ looting and a large-scale contraction, the northernmost hundred miles of land were deserted. Within a hundred miles of the mountain city, there were patrols of Scouts, stationed warriors, and legions ready to attack at any moment.


    Spring plowing was laborious and busy. When they bent down, the morning sun had just risen; when they looked up, the setting sun had fallen. After a long night¡¯s sleep, another day of monotony began. The new day seemed no different. Songbirds circled in the sky, only seeing the farmland that had been plowed. Oh, and the hidden eyes in the woods.


    Amoxtli crouched in the underbrush, narrowing his eyes, watching the mountain people hunched over the fields from afar, as well as the bustling village not far off. He wore the Cotton Armor of the Mexica, with a vine hat in yellow-green atop his head, concealing his conspicuously red hair. His gaze lingered for a while until another voice came from the bushes.


    "Amoxtli, did you get a clear view of the Otomi Warriors on the small hill? How many are there?"


    "Two palms and two soles, exactly twenty. The lead one¡¯s hand is on his neck, must be a whistle that would go ¡¯tinkle¡¯ at one blow."


    "Ah, this bunch of squeaking mongrels! They¡¯re not much in a fight, but they sure know how to call out."


    Ivican spat out disdainfully and popped his head out too. His eyes greedily scanned the distant village, looked at the thousands of toiling mountain people, then fixed fiercely on the scantily clad young women, swallowing a mouthful of saliva.


    ```


    "The women of the Otomi are far better looking than the skinny poles in our tribe. With bodies like turkeys, they¡¯re great for bearing children! Amoxtli, with such a big village, there¡¯s plenty of food and women. Do we attack or not?"


    "Ivican, don¡¯t rush it, let me take another look. We¡¯ve been following the Otomi scouts all the way here; we need to see where they have hidden the food. Women are plenty, but food is the lifeblood of a tribe!"


    Amoxtli carefully observed, his gaze pausing on the long spears carried by the villagers, then he gestured towards the direction of the village.


    "Let¡¯s go have a look around the edge of the village."


    Two red-haired warriors rose from the undergrowth, agile as mountain cats, without making a sound. Behind them, some twenty-odd tribal warriors also rose, each bending at the waist like hunting dogs. They carefully skirted the cultivated fields and came to the back of the village to continue spying.


    Not far away, a simple wooden fence encircled the village, leaving only two exits to the south and the north. In the center of the village stood a tall stone house, into and out of which some villagers were coming and going, preparing a special lunch for their samurai masters. The ordinary mountain folk weren¡¯t so fortunate; they only had two meals a day, morning and evening.


    Soon, faint wisps of smoke rose and the clear scent of corn drifted afar. A large group of samurai emerged from the long house, each carrying a weapon, chatting and laughing as they sat around the fire pit to eat.


    "Gray-blue cotton armor, one palm, two palms... Hmm, eight ¡¯hand palms¡¯ of Otomi dogs."


    Amoxtli used both hands, even borrowing Ivican¡¯s palms, to finally, with difficulty, count two hundred. Then, he shifted his gaze toward the central Mexica warriors, his pupils suddenly constricting.


    "Damn, white gold cotton armor studded with spikes, wicker helmets, and greatbows! Those are the Mexica ¡¯Thick-skin¡¯ warriors, a full ten ¡¯hand palms¡¯!"


    "What? Mexica ¡¯Thick-skin¡¯ warriors?! Where?... Ow!"


    Startled, Ivican turned in the direction of Amoxtli¡¯s pointing finger and couldn¡¯t help letting out a low canine growl. The warriors in the center of the village instantly became alert and stood looking in their direction. The canine descendant scouts crouched low in the bushes, not moving an inch. After a long while, the warriors resumed their noisy chatter and continued eating.


    Amoxtli breathed a sigh of relief before lowering his voice and cursing.


    "Damn it, Ivican, keep your dog mouth shut!"


    "What¡¯s there to be afraid of, Amoxtli? No one can outrun us! From this distance, even the greatbows can¡¯t hit us."


    ```


    Ivican returned the smile with a low voice, not too concerned about the danger.


    "Blind as bats, all fifty thick-skinned warriors! How did the Cactus Tribe from the south get so many thick-skinned? Last time we fought them, I shot a thick-skinned one with more than a dozen arrows, making him look like a porcupine, and yet he bounced around without a scratch!"


    "Ivican, the cotton armor of the thick-skinned warriors can¡¯t be shot through, no matter how close you are! You need to aim for that small exposed part of their neck, shoot their lower legs and feet, or bludgeon their heads in close combat. Of course, these thick-skinned ones are elite, and they¡¯ll consciously cover their vital spots. They¡¯re also formidable in close combat, truly a tough nut to crack!"


    Amoxtli shook his head and frowned as he continued to observe.


    Soon, Ivican¡¯s eyes widened as he looked towards the granary where the laborers were coming and going.


    "Food, lots of food! Amoxtli, behind me there are a hundred veteran redheads, five hundred tribal warriors! How many do you have back there?"


    "I have fifty redheads and three hundred warriors behind me; can¡¯t compare with your ¡¯Red Fox¡¯ tribe." S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "One hundred and fifty redheads, eight hundred warriors, the enemy only has two hundred fifty¡­ Ah, that¡¯s enough! Shall we attack?"


    "Attack my ass!"


    Amoxtli spat angrily and turned to glare at his friend.


    "The Otomi dogs are tough to attack when they are on the defense. Now with the Cactus Tribe warriors here, they¡¯re like dogs with a master, extremely stubborn, and they won¡¯t surrender even in death!"


    "Have you looked at the layout of this village? Houses block the way, paths are narrow, and our warriors can¡¯t spread out to use their numerical advantage. Plus, the enemy has greatbows for defense, and getting hit is a death sentence! By the time we reach the palisade, the thick-skinned ones will have shot three volleys of greatbows; break through and rush in, and it¡¯s another two volleys of arrows. After two more volleys, our warriors will start to collapse. This village can¡¯t be taken!"


    "Hmm, it seems logical. Amoxtli, your head really is sharp, almost like you¡¯re from our Red Fox tribe."


    Ivican thought for a while before he turned his gaze toward the mountain people working in the fields.


    "So, how about we have our warriors charge at these mountain people? We could scatter them, draw out the defending army, or maybe snatch a few robust women to bring back?"


    "Snatch my ass!"


    Amoxtli extended his arm and hammered Ivican¡¯s shoulder hard.


    "What good is killing a bunch of grass-like mountain people? All the food is in the granary. Without taking down the village, it¡¯s all in vain. If we stick out too long here, the large force of warriors from the south will latch onto us. First, the Otomi dogs, then the dark green cotton-armored Mexica warriors, and finally the unmovable thick-skinned."


    "Right, my last deep incursion into the south, I encountered a few ferocious tiger-heads, probably the Great Chief¡¯s trusted aides, the veteran redheads of the Cactus Tribe. They were clad in thick-skinned armor, wore tiger-heads, and were very good at tracking, chasing me for fifty miles! No matter how the scout team changed directions, we couldn¡¯t shake them off. I lost many brothers and only when we retreated to the northern border and set up an ambush with other tribes, did they quietly disappear."


    "Ferocious tiger-heads?"


    Ivican furrowed his brows and muttered to himself.


    "I think I¡¯ve heard the Chieftain mention something about Eagle Warriors, Jaguar warriors... Are they also thick-skinned?"


    "As thick-skinned as bears. Stop thinking about it, Ivican. All of my tribe¡¯s warriors are gathered here. If we suffer a reckless loss and don¡¯t seize any food, the Chieftain and Priesthood will surely sacrifice me alive! This village is impregnable; we should..."


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    Three sharp feathered arrows whistled through the air, shooting from afar and slashing past the heads of the Canine Descendant scouts. Two redhead warriors were taken aback and looked around, only to see that, without their knowledge, a few thick-skinned warriors accompanied by dozens of Otomi dogs had quietly closed in from the side.


    "Damn it, Ivican, it¡¯s all because of that dog barking of yours!"


    "Ow! Amoxtli, stop cursing. Since we can¡¯t fight, let¡¯s save our energy and run north! We still need to warn the troops behind us!"


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    Another dog bark came, followed by loud curses and the hissing of feathered arrows. The two redhead warriors crouched low and dashed out of the arrow¡¯s range like fleeing hounds. The dozen Canine Descendant scouts followed without hesitation.


    Chased by over a hundred Allied Force warriors, the Canine Descendants ran without pause. Amid the tense and fierce pursuit, there were more howling barks, and blood spilled into the mountains and fields, soaking the soil of hope.

 Chapter 596 - 294: Latest News from North and South

    The tender green sprouts peeked out from the fields, and the grey sparrows finally headed north. The end of June brought continuous wind and rain, the completion of spring plowing amidst tempests, and the gradual tranquility of the northern lands after spring.


    Xiulote climbed the city walls once again. He gazed down at the farmlands at the foot of the mountain city, where the earth was lush with budding life; he looked towards the horizon where dark clouds gathered, the sky rumbling with thunder, bringing down precious spring rains.


    "The rainy season has finally arrived! Spring water is always more precious than oil. Hmm, the rains in Otapan arrive later than in Qinchongcan."


    Bertade, clad in copper armor, gazed towards the distant thunder and calmly agreed.


    "Yes, Your Highness, after a spring rain, the seedlings will shoot up. The rainy season in the northern highlands always comes later than in the south. The farther north you go, the less rainfall there is. The rainfall in Otapan Mountain City is only about half of that in the Lake Patzcuaro region; and as you get to the borders of Pamus State, the rainfall is half of that in Otapan; and again it halves in the wilderness where the Canine Descendants emerge."


    "Bertade, are the gunpowder stores secured? We march in August, amid the rainy season. I¡¯m somewhat concerned that the rain might affect the use of the wooden cannons!"


    "Your Highness, as per your command, the gunpowder has been sealed in wooden barrels and stored in underground stone chambers, covered with water-absorbing, damp-proof charcoal. The rains in August are heavy in the mountain city, but they will diminish significantly by the time we reach Pamus State. The sealed gunpowder, covered with rubber rain sheets, will be transported to the north and can be used at least once before exposure to moisture! And given the Canine Descendants¡¯ equipment and organization, if they face our allied forces in battle, even without the wooden cannons, we will still hold a decisive advantage!"


    "Hmm, even a Jaguar must use full strength to capture a domestic dog! Using the wooden cannons at critical moments will indeed reduce many casualties."


    Xiulote smiled. He watched the drizzling raindrops, gazing over the vast expanse of the highlands, and said emotionally.


    "Bertade, look, water sources are life, gathering spots for populations, and the origins of civilization! The North is endlessly vast ¡ª the farther north, the sparser the population and the more barbaric the tribes. From Rivermouth Fortress going north to Otapan Mountain City is three hundred li; from Otapan Mountain City north to Pamus City is a full four hundred li. This seven hundred li journey is the limit for the kingdom¡¯s army to march and for the influence of the alliance!"


    "Your Highness, Pamus City is located on an upper tributary of the Tampen River, near a rare water source in the highlands, surrounded by large tracts of arable land. To its north is an arid wilderness, a thousand li hunting ground of the Guajili people, Coahuila State. To its west, the similarly barren northern border of Guamare State, where the Otomi Tribe and Guamal Canine Descendants live together without any significant towns. To its east are towering mountain ranges, and downstream along the Tampen River leads to Vastec territory. To the southeast is the stronghold of the Northern General in Xilotepec State..."


    Bertade meticulously explained, reflecting the mountainous terrain of the north in his mind.


    "Indeed. Pamus City, surrounded by rivers and mountains, located upstream, controls the endless wilderness to the north, and has the river for transport to the east, is truly a strategic location!"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and then nodded vigorously. Pamus City, adjacent to the Eastern Madre Mountains and located upstream on the Tampen River, is nearly seven hundred li from the sea outlet in the Gulf of Mexico. Flowing eastward from here, it would take just a few days to reach the capital of the Vastec Alliance, Cukuxicapan. Thus, this city-state is not only a strategic town in the north but also controls the east.


    "Your Highness, by holding Pamus City, we can deter the Canine Descendants, enlist tribes, station troops. And relying on the river, we can also demand sufficient provisions from the subordinate regions of Vastec in the east."


    Next, the Head Warrior, with a solemn face, bowed deeply.


    "In this northern campaign, the kingdom must take it and hold it in our hands!"


    "Oh, ¡¯we¡¯? Bertade, are you referring to the kingdom?..."


    "Precisely the kingdom."


    Xiulote contemplated for a moment, then slowly nodded.


    "A fine suggestion, very fine! Do you have a suitable candidate?"


    "Your Highness, there is one who is extremely familiar with the Canine Descendants, and also adept at dealing with tribal chieftains."


    Bertade smiled faintly. Xiulote thought for a while, then also smiled.


    "Indeed, after so many years of refinement, it¡¯s time to promote him. Send an envoy, and summon him back here; I want to meet him in person. Hmm, what¡¯s the situation in Pamus City now?"


    "Your Highness, as the core of Pamus State, Pamus City has already fallen into the hands of the Guajili people. Currently entrenched there, occupying the fertile land by the river, is the leader of the Guajili Tribe Alliance, the Chieftain of the ¡¯Red Dog¡¯ tribe, Chichika. Among the numerous tribes, the ¡¯Red Dog¡¯ tribe is the strongest, with a tribe population of ten thousand. They are all warriors, with more than three thousand combatants, and are the most defiant! A few days ago, Chichika even sent an envoy with a verbal message..."


    "Oh, that message! ¡¯The great chieftain of a hundred thousand Guajili people, master of the northern wilderness, the divine dog king Chichika, greets the great chieftain of the Aztec people, master of the southern Lake Region¡¯... Ha ha, so it¡¯s him!" S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote burst into laughter. Then, his expression turned cold, resolute.


    "The Canine Descendants respect power but not virtue, have a narrow view, and are blindly arrogant. This allied northern campaign will not cease until Pamus City falls and Chichika is sacrificed!"


    "By your command!"


    Bertade bowed deeply. Amid the sparse wind and rain, the two continued discussing the situation in the north. As they interacted with the Guajili people, the allied forces had captured many Canine Warriors and also clearly understood the details of various tribes.

 Chapter 597 - 294: Latest News from North and South_2

    The Guajili Canine Descendants invading from the south comprised eight large tribes, each possessing thousands of warriors. The large tribes acted as the dominant forces, often with several smaller tribes as vassals that would follow their lead. The eight great tribes were the "Red Dog," "Red Fox," "Red Stork," "Red Deer," "Red Monkey," "Red Salamander," "Red Frog," and "Red Cat."


    In Guajili culture, red symbolizes the sacred, and the names of the tribes are the animals they worship as totems. The Highland Canine Descendants only had ancestor worship and totem beliefs, without a unified deity to worship. Their spiritual world remained in obscurity, a blank slate ripe for religious propagation.


    After the Otomi people had fully retreated, the pillaging Canine Tribes could no longer take advantage. The mountain dwellers gathered in large villages, guarded by hundreds of Samurai. Two or three regular tribes could not take down a village garrisoned with troops. And if a large number of Canine Descendants lingered too long, they would be targeted by patrolling Allied Forces.


    The Imperial Guards¡¯ Personal Army of Xiulote had launched several strikes, pursuing and killing over a hundred red-haired warriors. Seeing no profit in plunder, the northern border quieted down completely.


    "Your Highness, while the eight large tribes are settling down to cultivate the land, they are also sending envoys to the Alliance. Their union is not stable, and their interests are not aligned. There are many opportunities for us to exploit..."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote gently shook his head and said with a smile.


    "Bertade, The Kingdom will absorb the Canine Descendants, but there¡¯s no need to hurry. Look at the clouds on the horizon, first comes the rumbling thunder, then the drizzling rain. To confront the haughty Canine Descendants, we inevitably need to fight a few battles, driving them to a dead end to make negotiation and subjugation easier! Without shedding enough blood, how can there be a deep-set fear and loyalty? Besides, this time the Canine Descendants moved southward, slaughtering heavily all along their path. We must give an explanation to our Otomi allies."


    The King¡¯s casual tone had just determined the fate of tens of thousands of Canine Descendants. His smile was calm and indifferent, yet it seemed as if boundless blood was flowing through it.


    Bertade was startled. He looked at the mature young Monarch, remembered the naive past, and slowly revealed a smile. After a moment, the Head Warrior pulled out a scroll and continued his report.


    "Your Highness, I¡¯ve had many feasts with the Otomi leaders and, coupled with the Scouts¡¯ reconnaissance, have roughly figured out the situation of the three Otomi States. After the turmoil of war, the Otapan State has about 200,000 people, with around 30,000 able-bodied men that can be mobilized. Despite the Guamare State¡¯s large size, it only has a population of over 100,000, with about 20,000 able-bodied men. In the pillaging by the Canine Descendants, they have lost at least over 10,000 people. As for the Pamus State, its population was originally comparable to that of the Guamare, but now it has fallen into Canine Descendants¡¯ hands, and it is estimated that half will be lost."


    "Ah? So in just five years, the once million-strong Otomi people are now reduced to just over four hundred thousand?"


    Xiulote silently calculated for a moment, looking surprised. He thought of the solemnity that often flashed across the face of the old Priest Olte, and he vaguely felt some empathy.


    "Your Highness, there are also the additional hundred thousand Otomi people from Xilotepec which should bring the total to over half a million."


    "Oh, over half a million..."


    The King shook his head and murmured to himself softly.


    "War is waged over land, everywhere men die like weeds; in these chaotic times, it is but a struggle to survive..."


    "Your Highness, that¡¯s the state of affairs in the north. This month, many Messengers have come to Rivermouth Fort, reporting details of the Kingdom¡¯s spring ploughing."


    "Hmm, go on."


    "The spring ploughing in both the Capital Region and Rivermouth County has been completed on schedule. The new step plows are being used in the military and civilian farmlands, and heaps of manure have been spread in the fields. The villagers in various places still hold doubts about these new farming improvements, yet they have been appeased by the Priests as the will of the gods."


    "Bertade, don¡¯t worry. Come autumn harvest when they see the actual increase in crop yields, the villagers will fully accept the new method of cultivation and be grateful to the Priests. The harvest season will be an excellent opportunity for proselytizing!"


    Xiulote was full of confidence. Manure and step plows had been used in the Celestial Empire for a thousand years, and he had also practiced them in the Alliance. It was just hard for him to explain the principles to the Priests, necessitating the use of divine will to implement them.


    "In another two years, once the labor forces have recovered, we can consider building levees to completely control Lake Patzcuaro. Only after the levees are completed, and we fully control the flooding from the rainy season and brine from the mountains, can we invest a lot of manpower to build the truly high-yielding Chinampa!"


    Hearing about the floating gardens of Chinampa, Bertade¡¯s eyes sparkled. Chinampa was a name that all Mexica people yearned for, signifying abundant harvests, prosperity, and wealth. He mused for a moment and then pulled out another scroll that was filled with delicate handwriting.


    "Your Highness, this is a report from Talaya. According to your instructions, every bureau of the Divine Revelation Place is in the midst of expanding. The Mining and Metallurgy Bureau and the Gunpowder Bureau have once again elevated their outputs. The Military Arsenal has accumulated over a thousand copper armors, and the first Sun Divine Eagle Cannon has been successfully trialed..."


    "Ah, the bronze Eagle Cannon has finally been successfully trialed!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote was filled with excitement, his face beaming with joy. He turned around, gazing at the southern horizon, wishing he could fly back immediately to see the trial shot of the Eagle Cannon. After a while, the King finally calmed his fluctuating emotions and said with a smile.


    "Tilipi has not let me down, he deserves a generous reward! Once I inspect the performance of the Eagle Cannon and give him a firm talk, I¡¯ll promote him to hereditary Nobility." S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Your Highness, besides Tilipi, there is another person you should reward generously. He alone has contributed at least one-tenth of the Kingdom¡¯s taxation!"

 Chapter 598 - 294: Latest News from North and South_3

    "Oh, who could it be? Who has such wealth?"


    The King looked at the Head Warrior with curiosity.


    "The Director of the Special Trade Bureau, Losano. In half a year, he has made over a thousand jin of various ¡¯gemstones.¡¯ The Kingdom, in order to control the prices, has only sold a small portion so far. Despite this, jade merchants from all over the world have gone mad, and the spies who have come to probe are too numerous to be captured."


    "Over a thousand jin... ¡¯gemstones¡¯..."


    Xiulote¡¯s mouth twitched. He wanted to say something, but faced with the exorbitant profits from glass trade, the words at the tip of his tongue shifted to a different sentence.


    "For now, there is no further promotion available for Losano. We must protect his safety closely. As for his demands for luxurious living, fulfill them as much as possible! Moreover, instruct him to quickly research and develop colorless gemstones. The existing manufacturing process must continue to improve, the closer to natural gemstones, the better!"


    Bertade smiled and took out paper to jot down notes. Afterward, he added another point.


    "Your Highness, the Shipyard¡¯s trial production of the first catamaran has just been launched in Cuitzeo Lake. The Master Craftsmen are adjusting the details of the hull and sails. By the time the northern campaign ends and we return, we should have the results!"


    Hearing these good news, Xiulote was in a pleasant mood. Every breakthrough in technological development always brought a sense of satisfaction with the progress of civilization. Bertade waited for the King to digest this information for a moment before asking solemnly.


    "The Guamal Canine Descendants from the northwest have sent an Envoy. This cold wave has caused tribes from all regions to migrate southward. They too have been impacted and have captured over ten thousand Canine Descendants, looking to sell them to us."


    "Oh?"


    At the mention of population trade, Xiulote perked up.


    "Which tribe did they capture, and what¡¯s the proportion of able-bodied men?"


    "It¡¯s mainly the Sakate Castes from the far northwest, and a portion of Guajili people. The Canine Descendants heading south didn¡¯t include the old and weak, half are able-bodied men and half are women."


    "Tell them, the Kingdom will take all of them. We¡¯ll accept as many young able-bodied and women of marrying age as they have. Settle them all in Rivermouth County."


    Without hesitation, the King decided immediately. Population is the cornerstone of a civilization, and the newly-formed Kingdom also had sufficient capacity for cultural assimilation. He thought for a moment and then added,


    "Right, take some samples and ask the Guamal people. Besides grain, salt, cotton cloth, weapons, and cotton armor, would they be interested in gemstones? We have them in every color..."


    Bertade could not help but smile silently at this, and he noted down the King¡¯s command.


    Xiulote gazed into the distance, pondering for a while before speaking again.


    "The Canine Descendants¡¯ large-scale invasion southward, the Otomi electing a new leader... All these northern upheavals, I have dispatched Envoys to report to King Aweit and requested support from the Alliance. Counting the days, there should also be a response by now. Has the King sent back any replies?"


    "Your Highness, the Kingdom has not yet received a response from the Alliance; it may take some more days. However, regarding Your Highness¡¯s support for Prince Jiowar in becoming the leader of the Otomi, there seem to be some unfavorable rumors in the Lake Capital City."


    "That matter, indeed, tends to give rise to rumors..."


    Xiulote reflected for a moment, sighed, and took out a letter he had just written, handing it to the Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, this is my letter to Alisa. It contains some personal language, observations from the north, and regards to pass on to Aweit. I have also obtained some strange plants unique to the Northern Land and some secret Otomi Potion recipes from Priest Olte as gifts. Dispatch an Envoy tonight at full speed to deliver both the letter and the gifts to the Lake Capital City, and ensure they are handed personally to Alisa!"


    Bertade nodded, carefully stored the letter, and immediately set out to carry out his instructions. Before leaving, he paused and bowed to the King.


    "Your Highness, despite Princess Alisa¡¯s seemingly naive and unaffected demeanor, she is as clear-minded as a mirror and is your best ally! As long as you regularly correspond with the Princess, informing her of major affairs... There will be no misunderstandings between you and the King."


    Hearing this, Xiulote slightly lowered his gaze and remained silent. When he looked up again, the Head Warrior had already gone far. The King raised his head, gazing at the dark clouds in the sky, and let out a resigned smile. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "The white clouds are pure and unblemished; I had not wished for her to be touched by worldly dust. Yet when the rainy season comes with the wind, the sky may soon be filled with dark clouds... With thunder rolling down from the sky, how can the clouds avoid it?"


    Alone on the rampart, the King¡¯s voice grew more somber. A thunderclap sounded in the distance, and the heavy rain fell once again. The raindrops on his face and in his mouth, when gently savored, carried the fragrance of the clouds~

 Chapter 599 - Two Hundred Ninety-Five: Expedition in August

    The rains of July fluttered down, soaking the lush fields and nurturing the early blossoming summer flowers. On the south bank of the Lerma River, the raindrops in the Lake Region were like cheerful bamboo flutes, melodies connecting from one to the next, forming a long line drawn by an ink brush, covering the entire canopy of the sky. On the north bank of the Lerma River, the downpour over the Mountain City was like heavy war drums, each beat falling into the ear, accompanied by the highland thunder, solemnizing the boundless land.


    In the sparse wind and rain, envoys after envoy left Otapan Mountain City in all directions. Soon, Otomi Warriors and Militia from all over started to mobilize. Thousands of Warriors formed camps, converging into legions, and gradually gathered at the Mountain City; an even greater number of Militia took up Long Spears, shouldered food supplies, sustaining the army¡¯s logistics.


    With unrelenting rain, the ancestral lands of the Mountain City stood tall like a Divine Mountain. The Kingdom¡¯s Wolf Banner and the Mountain City¡¯s Bird Banner both fluttered atop the city walls, while the camp below was filled with boiling voices. Xiulote stood on the Watchtower, overlooking tens of thousands of troops, and felt a surge of pride swell in his chest.


    The mobilization began in mid-July, and by the beginning of August, all the camps had completed their preparations. The Otomi people had assembled sixteen thousand Warriors and twenty-four thousand Militia, a total of forty thousand troops. Rivermouth Fortress¡¯s First Spear Legion arrived at the end of July, bringing the number of the Kingdom¡¯s Warriors to fourteen thousand.


    The full mobilization of the Otomi people was immense and could not be concealed. Guajili Scouts hurried back and forth, repeatedly reporting the latest military information. Faced with the continuously gathering vast Allied Forces, the Canine Descendants¡¯ large Tribes were panic-stricken and sent out envoys southward to seek peace with the Allied Forces. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Inside the palace of Otapan Mountain City, Xiulote summoned several envoys from the Canine Descendants¡¯ great Tribes. The King lost interest upon hearing their similar terms, "nominal submission, but retaining land and wealth, maintaining tribal autonomy..." These were not far from what he had anticipated. These proud Canine Descendants were truly wild dogs, who would not submit like tamed house dogs until they had experienced a real war, a battle that would break their spines.


    Soon, the legions of the various states arrived one after another. Fifty thousand troops marched mightily, filling the fields of the Mountain City and startling flocks of birds into the sky. The Northern expedition would travel at least four hundred miles, passing through barren highlands and withered villages. Given the Otomi¡¯s food reserves, it was not possible for them all to march north.


    In fact, the northern Guajili people were already scattered according to tribal distribution. They moved swiftly, and if they avoided battle, the heavy troops could not catch the moving main force of the Tribes.


    Faced with scarce supplies along the way and the dispersion of the enemy, Xiulote and Jiowar discussed for a long time and finally set the strategy for the Northern campaign. The entire Allied Forces would split into three elite prongs, roughly forming a line, plowing through the Northern Land like a Step Plow.


    The left flank was made up of five thousand Warriors from Guamare State, three thousand Militia, led by the Great Chieftain Chalki as the Commander-in-Chief of the left flank; the right flank consisted of eight thousand Warriors from the Otapan State, with Jiowar as the Commander-in-Chief of the right flank; the vanguard of the middle flank comprised three thousand Warriors from Pamus State, two thousand Barbarian mercenaries from the Imperial Guard Legion, one thousand Temple Crossbowmen, and two thousand light-armed Archers from the First Spear Legion, led by Black Wolf Torc as the Vanguard Commander-in-Chief. The left, right, and middle vanguard, each was a fully-staffed Xiquipilli Legion of eight thousand troops. Each force was spaced fifty miles apart, moving quickly and providing mutual support.


    Following them, the main body of the middle column was where Xiulote¡¯s Royal Banner flew. Three thousand Armored Guards carrying Longbows and large crossbows, along with the artillery team, were positioned behind the three columns. Should any flank encounter heavy forces, the Armored main body would move out and strike like a Thunderbolt.


    The three columns of the expedition amounted to around twenty-seven thousand troops. Marching north for at least four hundred miles, this was the limit that the supply lines could support. The remaining twenty thousand plus Otomi Militia were managed by the old Priest Olte, responsible for maintaining the lengthy logistics line. The Otomi¡¯s food supply was insufficient, with a large quantity of food still needing to be transported north from Rivermouth Fortress. And the crucial safety of the supply lines was entrusted by the King to the Monkey, Kuluka.


    "Monkey, you will lead the six thousand Spear Legion and station near the Mountain City. If the Canine Descendants harass, threatening the supply route, you must drive them away. As the army marches north, the stability of the supply line must be ensured."


    Atop the city walls, Xiulote wore a serious expression, issuing orders solemnly.


    "Your Highness, I will exert all my effort to secure the army¡¯s supply lines!"


    The Monkey¡¯s keen eyes showed determination as he knelt with both knees and bowed deeply.


    "Good! The supply must precede the troops. This Northern expedition will cover vast distances, and it¡¯s possible the Canine Descendants will retreat northwards, making it uncertain how long the campaign will last. I am concerned that Rivermouth County¡¯s food reserves will not suffice, so I have requested assistance from the Alliance. King Aweit has replied with a promise that he will send a batch of supplies monthly to the Wooden Fort on the North Coast of the Lerma River from its upper reaches, but it requires equivalent goods in exchange from the Kingdom."


    "Monkey, I will give you some ¡¯gemstones¡¯, cotton fabric, and copper ware. Based on the amount of food the Alliance delivers, you will pay the transport officials. Hmm, you can give a few extra gemstones as appropriate for grease. The Divine Revelation Place will soon deliver one thousand sets of Medium Armor. You may equip five hundred of them in the army. As for the remaining five hundred, I have already agreed to give them to the King in exchange for the title of Prince Jiowar. These Copper Armors, you must personally hand them to the Alliance¡¯s Envoy!"


    "At your command, Your Highness!"


    The monkey prostrated himself again. Xiulote smiled, stepped forward, and personally helped Kuluka to his feet. Then, the king lowered his voice and whispered in the other¡¯s ear.


    "Monkey, to prevent any mishap, the Jingji Legion has already moved north and is now stationed at the edge of Cuitzeo Lake. If anything happens to the mountain city, if Olte the Priest dies, or if the northern campaign fails and the Otomi people conspire with the Canine Descendants... then you must immediately contact Anna¡¯s Naval Forces and transport the Jingji Legion to the North Coast of Lerma River, coordinating from within and without to seize the mountain city directly!"


    "Ah, Your Highness? Seize the mountain city?!"


    On hearing this, the monkey¡¯s pupils constricted, and he clenched his fists silently,


    "In all things, we must consider the worst outcome first, contemplate defeat, and then seek victory. Monkey, you needn¡¯t worry; these situations are unlikely to occur. It¡¯s just a strategy set in advance just in case."


    Xiulote smiled faintly and patted Kuluka on the shoulder. He looked into the monkey¡¯s expressive eyes and finally said.


    "Monkey, you have the bearing of a great general, always able to make the most appropriate response in critical situations. You are also one of those I trust the most. I leave my rear guard to you!"


    "Your Highness, I am willing to die for you!"


    Kuluka¡¯s expression was one of agitation. He knelt down again, prostrating himself fully in a ritual salute.


    This time, Xiulote did not help him up again. He turned around, faced the tens of thousands of troops below the city, raised the Divine Staff in his hand, and pointed towards the wilderness in the north.


    "In the name of the Chief Divine! Extinguish the Canine Descendants, reclaim the old lands! By Royal Decree, the army marches!"


    "Roar!"


    With the king¡¯s commanding wave of the Divine Staff, a sky full of cheers erupted outside the city! Whether Mexica or Otomi, whether samurai or militia, tens of thousands of warriors released a boiling battle cry all at once!


    The shouts were initially chaotic, like the erratic rain of summer. But amidst the frantic cheers of the Otomi, the boiling roar quickly converged into a formidable title that became like rolling thunder in the distance.


    "God of Death!... Great Chief!... God of Death Great Chief!!..."


    "Thud, thud, thud!"


    The fierce war drums sounded across the fields! Amidst the sparse rain, tens of thousands of elite warriors turned north, making the damp earth tremble with their steps. Nearly thirty thousand warriors of the northern expedition set off promptly, like a surging torrent, as well as a wild wind from the north. Eager to march in August, swift as the wind. The three divisions and four detachments advanced as sharp as an arrow, destroying all the Canine Descendant tribes along the way!

 Chapter 600 - 296: First Battle in the Wilderness

    The Northern Land stretched into the unknown distance. Marching northward from Otapan City for more than two hundred miles, the army entered the boundaries of the Pamus State.


    The East here clung to the towering Eastern Madre Mountain Range. The moist easterly winds from the sea were blocked by the continuous mountains, resulting in a sudden decrease in precipitation and gradually sparse vegetation. The earth slowly lost its vibrancy, leaving behind vast traces of barrenness. Soon, the green highlands turned into gray-white wilderness, with yuccas and cacti dotted among the endless sand, appearing exceptionally magnificent and bleak.


    As the Allied Forces advanced northward, the harrowing cries of battle resounded across the wilderness. Copper arrows and bone arrows flew back and forth, piercing soft bodies; war clubs clashed with stone spears, leaving fallen corpses behind. The small squads of scouts from both sides constantly entangled in skirmishes, showing no mercy upon encounter, coloring the wilderness with their lives.


    A black jaguar circled in the sky, emitting the deathly squawks. It rotated its gaze, observing the two groups of gray-blue figures battling each other and also waiting for the forthcoming feast. Before long, the parched land was soaked in bright red, and the number of motionless bodies increased. It wasn¡¯t long before one side began to flee, while the other started the pursuit to kill.


    "Whoosh!"


    A sharp bone arrow sliced through the sky, and the figure running away collapsed to the ground instantly, without even a chance to let out a scream. Then, a red-haired warrior swiftly approached. He kicked the fallen corpse, looked at the feathered arrow that hit the heart accurately, and nodded with satisfaction.


    "Pah, thought you could run! Could you outrun me?"


    Ivican kicked the body twice more before stretching out his arm to wipe the sweat off his face with the cotton armor he wore. A dozen Canine Descendants scouts followed up from behind, likewise clothed in the gray-blue cotton armor of the Otomi. The scouts had been fighting continuously for months, and now they had all changed their equipment, wielding sharp obsidian clubs in their hands.


    "Great! After such a long chase, we¡¯ve finally left all those Otomi curs behind!"


    Amoxtli glanced at the corpses and laughed with a wide grin.


    "Ivican, your archery skills are powerful! Shooting a running person from dozens of steps away!"


    "Aw! He was just running straight ahead, what¡¯s there not to hit? The real challenge is shooting that big black bird in the sky!"


    Saying so, Ivican squinted and raised his longbow, aiming into the sky.


    Seeing this dangerous action, the jaguar immediately spread its wings and soared up more than ten meters before stopping. While circling in flight, it squawked as if mocking the hunter on the ground. In the food-scarce wilderness, the large birds would have been hunted to extinction by the skilled Canine Descendants if they hadn¡¯t been so vigilant.


    "Whoosh!"


    A bone arrow flew upward forcefully, cleaving through the air and grazing the wing of the jaguar. The big black bird shuddered in fright, promptly abandoning the prospect of food and flew far away.


    Ivican first let out a regretful sigh, then revealed a content smile. He fondled the longbow lovingly, intimately feeling the wood grain, as if communicating with a weapon of divinity.


    "Amoxtli, this greatbow is really something! Strong and very steady."


    Amoxtli¡¯s eyes brimmed with envy looking at the greatbow. A few days ago, two squads of scouts joined forces to ambush a group of scattered Otomi Warriors. They captured this handy greatbow from the hands of the leading nobility. For the ownership of this divine bow, the two argued, with Ivican of the Great Tribe ultimately taking possession. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ivican, when will we go and grab another greatbow?"


    "We¡¯ll see! The Otomi curs rarely have greatbows; they usually stay within the main army. The Cactus Scouts do have many greatbows, but they¡¯re tough to beat, and one risks losing oneself if not careful."


    Hearing this, Amoxtli sighed and kicked a stone on the ground.


    "The Otomi are becoming increasingly troublesome! In today¡¯s battle, although our ambush was successful and we killed twenty Otomi curs, we also lost seven tribal warriors!"


    Upon hearing this, Ivican put away his longbow. He looked at the scouts following behind him, and a rare look of concern appeared on his face.


    "Awooo! Today we shot nearly half of the Otomi warriors dead, and only then did the curs¡¯ morale collapse, turning tail to flee. Damn it! Before, a simple skirmish would scatter them. Now, with the backing of the Jaguar heads from the Cactus Tribe, even the curs can hang their tails down and pretend to be wolves!"


    "Hmm. At least we didn¡¯t let a single one get away alive. Otherwise, if the Jaguar heads from the Cactus Tribe were to come, we would be in trouble!"


    At the mention of the Mexica¡¯s Jaguar warriors, both red-haired scouts shuddered. These expert warriors, adept at tracking, could not be shaken off and were all well-versed in martial arts, moving with fiendish speed, making them the Canine scouts¡¯ most dangerous enemies.


    The two red-haired warriors looked towards the south, staring vacantly together, until Ivican was the first to speak.


    "Amoxtli, the army to the south is too large, as scouts are scattered everywhere. After ambushing this group of curs, we cannot stay here any longer. Where shall we go next?"


    "Ivican, there are three main forces in the allied army to the south, Otomi curs carrying bird banners on both sides, and in the center, Cactus warriors holding the Wolf Banner. We¡¯ve just scouted the western force, and the east is likely the same. Now, we should check out the enemies in the middle to report back to the Chieftain and the Elders!"


    Amoxtli thought for a while, then made up his mind. As long as they could gather useful intelligence earlier, they could return to the tribe to report and would be able to leave the increasingly dangerous south sooner.


    "Awooo, makes sense! The Cactus warriors in the middle run the fastest, charging ahead, and I reckon they¡¯re almost at the doorstep of the Red Mouse tribe¡¯s home. It¡¯s the perfect time to observe their battle formation! ... Amoxtli, my friend, while you may not run as fast as I do, you always seem to be a tad smarter. In my opinion, you should leave that small tribe and join us Red Foxes sooner rather than later! I guarantee that Chief Otuwa will value you highly!"


    Upon hearing the familiar persuasion, Amoxtli casually shook his head. Being ordered around in a large tribe was nowhere near as enjoyable as leading in a small tribe! He squinted his eyes, noted the direction of the sun, and headed accurately towards the East.


    The evening sun bathed the red-haired warriors, casting long slanting shadows that soon disappeared into the deepening twilight. The night on the highland was long and quiet. The moonlight was dim, infusing the air with a hint of chill.


    To avoid detection, neither scouting party lit a bonfire; they simply rested quietly, conserving their strength. The Canine scouts, accustomed to hunting, could barely see at night but similarly lacked the capacity for night battles. A peaceful night passed uneventfully until the rising sun heralded the start of a new day¡¯s fighting.


    In the bright sunlight, the Toltec, carrying the Commander-in-Chief¡¯s battle flag, stood proudly and gazed at a nearby hill.


    Atop the hill, there was a rudimentary encampment belonging to the Canine tribe. The camp¡¯s perimeter was roughly enclosed with a wooden fence, and a red vole banner fluttered at the entrance. At that moment, hundreds of Canine warriors holding short bows and stone spears intently watched the approaching great army of thousands.


    "One hundred, two hundred... one thousand, fifteen hundred... not even two thousand people, at most five hundred warriors!"


    Toltec, magnificent in appearance, widened his eyes and mentally counted the number of Canine tribe members. He bent his fingers, doing the calculations for a while, until he finally estimated a rough number.


    "Fools! What gave them the courage to stay and resist facing the Alliance¡¯s legion?"


    Black Wolf was somewhat puzzled. He looked behind him, where three thousand longbow militiamen, two thousand barbarian javelin throwers, and one thousand Temple crossbowmen, five thousand strong of the Mexica legion, were arrayed in order, surrounding the hill without leaving a single gap. He also observed a small river winding below, with large expanses of cultivated farmland lush and green. The corn in the fields had already flowered and pollinated, producing small ears of corn.


    "Ah, I see! The harvest is not far off; it¡¯s just hard to wait."


    Toltec murmured to himself, then his face broke into a smile, pleased with his own learning. He laughed for a moment before taking out the command banner and swung it vigorously towards the direction of the encampment!


    "Hear my command! Temple crossbowmen, be on the alert! Vanguard throwers, prepare your javelins! Longbow militiamen, approach for shooting!"

 Chapter 601 - 297: The Advance of Black Wolf

    "Boom, boom, boom!"


    The attack war drums sounded vigorously. Led by dozens of Prepetcha archers, two thousand Longbow Militia arranged themselves in a loose formation and advanced, ready to shoot. These Tarasco archers were dressed in gray paper armor, wore yellow vine hats, held bamboo longbows, carried a bag of inexpensive reed bone arrows on their waists, and each had a dagger for self-defense. They were cheap to assemble and relatively easy to maintain but were not adept at close combat, which is why they maintained their light mobility.


    As the large group of archers steadily approached, the Canine Descendants shouted nervously. Hunters raised their Hunting Bows, relying on the terrain of the small hill, and valiantly fired towards the outskirts of the camp. However, the Hunting Bows were short, and the flurry of bone arrows ran out of force after traveling a few dozen steps, ineffectively sticking into the archers¡¯ paper armor without causing any damage.


    "Tweet, tweet!..."


    Accompanied by two short whistles, the Longbow Militia stopped in their tracks and then drew their bows and nocked their arrows. At this distance of about sixty paces from the camp, the Canine Descendants¡¯ Hunting Bows could hardly damage the archers¡¯ paper armor, while the archers¡¯ longbows could easily penetrate the Canine Descendants¡¯ cloth garments.


    "Tweet!... Whoosh!"


    The shrill flute sounded, and the leading Samurai suddenly released their fingers, conducting the first round of test firing. Dozens of long arrows drew a short arc, slanting into the wooden fence. The Canine Descendants burst into laughter and curses. Then, the Samurai adjusted their angles, leading the archers behind them in a direct volley!


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    Thousands of reed arrows tore through the sky, like birds taking flight, carrying the howls of the God of Death as they shot into the Canine Descendants¡¯ camp! Over a hundred Canine Descendants were wounded and fell to the ground, emitting piercing screams and spilling copious blood. Within the Red Mouse Tribe, chaos and noise erupted suddenly, like a disturbed nest of mice.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    The second volley of arrows arrived. Dozens of impulsive Canine Warriors tried to open the camp gates and rush out, only to make perfect targets for the arrows; others crouched and hid behind fences and grass huts to avoid the deadly flurry of arrows.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    A dozen red-haired warriors roared loudly, attempting to command the chaotic Tribe, but the third volley of arrows came down again, turning them into porcupines!


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!..."


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    The roaring rain of arrows continued for five rounds, and the ground was soon littered with several hundred unfortunate Canine Descendants. Toltec looked at the Tribe¡¯s camp, which had lost command and was in disarray, and sneered dismissively. He issued another command with a voice as loud as thunder.


    "Vanguard, launch and charge!"


    "Roar! Chief Divine protect us! Kill!"


    Two thousand Tekos Barbarians let out excited shouts, growling as they charged forward.


    As members of the Royal Family¡¯s forbidden army, these Barbarian mercenaries were meticulously selected from captives taken in western campaigns and Tribes that had surrendered. They were always agile and ferocious, skilled in close combat and throwing, and after converting to the Chief Divine, they regarded life and death with indifference. They were also the best vanguard for close combat, capable of throwing dangerous Clay Tribulus during sieges. Of course, attacking a small Tribal camp did not require the use of difficult-to-transport explosive weapons.


    At that moment, the Barbarian vanguard wore Mexica green cotton armor, donned sturdy vine hats, held a sharp Copper Spears in one hand, and two inexpensive Obsidian javelins in the other. Their movements were extremely fast, and they quickly closed to within twenty paces of the camp. Hidden Tribal Huntsmen started to pop up, shooting sparse arrows. The vanguard accelerated their run while raising their arms, returning fire with accurate javelins.


    "Whizz, whizz, whizz!" S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At a distance of ten paces, the power of the javelins was immense! The thrown javelins pierced directly through the gaps in the fence, transfixing Hunters who were desperately resisting in their chests and bellies, nailing them to the ground and eliciting unhuman-like agonized howls!


    Soon after, the intense "thump thump" of chopping wood rang out. The leading Vanguard Samurai took out their Bronze Axes and hacked vigorously at the fence and camp gates. The Barbarians behind them threw ropes, snagging the broken camp gates, and then pulled together.


    "Crack...crunch!"


    The wood broke with a sharp "crack," and the camp gates burst open! The Vanguard Samurai swung their axes again, and the red hedgehog flag was cut down the middle, falling to the ground and trampled under the feet of the warriors. The sacred totem fell, no longer able to protect the Tribe! The Canine Descendants immediately let out cries of despair.


    "Roar, roar, kill!"


    Hundreds of Mexica green figures roared excitedly and ferociously stormed into the fort. They thrust their Copper Spears without mercy, striking with full force, and quickly advanced from the entrance of the camp to the central chief¡¯s longhouse of the Tribe!


    Over a hundred Canine Warriors swung their Stone Hammers and Wooden Shields, resisting valiantly in front of the longhouse, but they were repeatedly pierced by the encircling Copper Spears. Soon, a fierce red-haired warrior let out a terrible scream, clutching the bloody hole in his chest, and collapsed onto his back.


    "Red Mouse Chieftain!"


    The Canine Descendants shouted in panic, losing their last bit of morale. They dropped their weapons one by one, kneeling before the formidable enemy, giving up all struggle and leaving themselves to fate.


    Beneath the hill, Toltec laughed heartily, as victory was so easy before an excellent Commander-in-Chief! Then, he looked back at the camp and frowned.


    Black Wolf, the Commander-in-Chief, called over a trusted aide and gave a few orders. The trusted aide nodded and led a large troop of warriors and the accompanying War Priests forward.


    After a while, the slaughter in the camp finally ceased completely. The Vanguard of the Barbarians, covered in blood, escorted the able-bodied captives who could still walk and filed out of the camp. The Priests, with benevolent expressions, soothed the frightened and fearful Canine Descendants and had the Samurai take the children away.


    In the wailing camp, the Samurai searched briefly before turning back to report to the Commander-in-Chief.


    As expected, this ordinary Canine Tribe, despite having nearly two thousand people, was so poor that they rattled. The storage tent didn¡¯t even have a rat; there were only a dozen or so bags of grain, barely enough to keep two thousand people alive until the harvest. Then there was tree bark, grass roots, cactuses, agaves, various insects, rat meat, some dubious dried meat, and a few baskets of strange medicinal herbs. The only valuable items were a few bundles of furs in the back, ranging from mouse to bear pelts.


    "These impoverished Canine Descendants!... After a battle, they can¡¯t even recoup the cost of the arrows."


    Looking at the spartan loot, Toltec shook his head. He coldly waved his hand, and the Barbarian soldiers, ignoring the low wails on the ground, swung their torches and set fire to the longhouses, thatched huts, and tents.


    Soon, the encampment on the hillside became a sea of flames. Black, thick smoke rose violently, erasing all traces. The wails gradually ceased, and even the wind grew quiet, leaving only the fields below the hill still nurturing hopes of harvest.


    From the start of the encirclement to the end of the scavenging, the battle lasted about an hour. The attacking camp lost just over a dozen men and wounded a few dozen, and had utterly destroyed the encampment of two thousand Canine Descendants, capturing a thousand prisoners.


    Black Wolf glanced over the captured prisoners, all young and strong men and women from the Canine Descendants. The Mexica Samurai had already used sturdy hemp ropes to neatly tie them up. This kind of prisoner capture was something they had done countless times before.


    "Hmm, the Guajili Tribe really has few old and weak. Sent to the south, they would be suitable as slaves for agriculture. The Nobility and Samurai have been granted so much land, at last, they will have able-bodied serfs!"


    With this thought, Toltec nodded in satisfaction. He looked at his trusted aide beside him and ordered resolutely.


    "Tupa, take two hundred men! Escort these able-bodied prisoners back to Mespa. And tell him to arrange for transportation to the rear army camp, so that His Highness can review them! His Highness likes young and sturdy serfs most!"


    "At your command! Chief, shall we wait for General Mespa? He has three thousand Samurai..."


    "Wait for what? Raiding Canine Tribes has to be fast! We must wipe out as many as possible before the rats can react. Who knows where they¡¯ll hole up next? I don¡¯t have the time to chase after rats all over the mountains. The Pamus Samurai lack discipline and move too slowly. We only need to take a few Scouts as guides for the legion, and the rest can stay behind to slowly take in the prisoners!"


    Black Wolf waved his hand grandly. Then, he determined the direction and signaled with his command flag toward the northwest.


    "All troops, rest for a quarter of an hour! We march on to the next tribe before nightfall!"


    "Roar!"


    The roar of the Samurai instantly rose over the wilderness, drowning out a low bark hidden in the bushes.


    "Awooo! He saw us, he¡¯s waving flags at us!"


    Ivican raised his head in terror and let out a low cry, almost ready to turn and run immediately.


    "Shut your dog mouth! Ivican, they haven¡¯t moved! Hidden two hundred steps away with vine hats on, no one can see us in the grass!"


    Amoxtli swiftly extended his hand, pressing Ivican to the ground. Ivican shivered for a while before calming down. He widened his eyes, looking towards the burning camp with a deep sense of dread.


    "Ancestors! Amoxtli, how long did they fight? The two-thousand-strong Red Mouse Tribe, just gone like that?"


    "Ivican, you¡¯ve always had better eyesight than I do, can¡¯t you see for yourself?"


    Amoxtli was equally shocked. He responded gruffly.


    "Half of the Red Mouse Tribe has gone to meet the ancestors, and the other half has been captured as prisoners. They couldn¡¯t be more finished!"


    "Ah, Amoxtli, the Red Mouse Tribe is finished just like that! Why didn¡¯t they run?"


    "Run? When we just managed to survive the cold snap, common Tribes were cannibalizing each other¡ªwhere would they find the food to flee? Do you think they¡¯re all like your Red Fox Tribe? Many red-haired Warriors, plenty of plundered grain, and a cunning leader!"


    "Awooo! Chief Otuwa is indeed smart, never fights a losing battle all the way!"


    Hearing such an evaluation, Ivican felt some pride. He nodded in agreement and then whispered quietly.


    "Amoxtli, we¡¯ve seen what we needed to see, let¡¯s hurry back to our tribe and report the intelligence to the chiefs! The Cactus Tribe is so formidable, we need to let the chiefs weigh in on what to do."


    "Right! We can¡¯t stay in the south any longer; let¡¯s go now!"


    Among the bushes, two red-haired Warriors crouched down, taking one last glance at the black smoke on the hill, then silently slipped away following the ridge¡¯s contours. Above in the sky, several black American eagles, attracted by the scent of blood, circled down. They squawked eagerly, anticipating a more bountiful feast.

 Chapter 602 - 298: The Vast Northern Land

    The afternoon sun pierced through the post-rain clouds, casting its light on the damp wilderness and causing a faint mist to rise. The summers on the northern highlands were always dry, with no accumulation of vegetation, so the soil¡¯s surface moisture could seldom be preserved for long. And water sources were the most precious resource.


    Only where streams and springs flowed could crops be planted and tribal populations supported, allowing passage for large-scale armies. For a thousand years, the battles in the north revolved around water sources. Blood nurtured the fertile soil by the rivers and made the rare greenery all the more vibrant.


    Thousands of Mexica legionnaires marched across the arid land, kicking up plumes of dust visible from afar. The lofty Wolf Banner fluttered at the center of the formation, and Xiulote, clad in sturdy Medium Armor, proceeded forward, guarded by his Copper Armor-clad personal army. He surveyed his surroundings; his trusted aides¡¯ faces were sun-reddened and beaded with fine sweat. Looking back, he saw the legion¡¯s trail, countless drops of sweat falling on the wilderness, only to evaporate quickly, leaving behind mere specks of white.


    The army had marched on resolutely for days, covering more than three hundred miles, with the scenery along the way resembling the same monochromatic painting. The endless flat paths of the northern wilderness stretched infinitely, with only the towering peaks of the East gradually falling behind. Soon, as the sun dipped low, today¡¯s march came to an end, and the Samurai found a stream thick with vegetation to encamp and hurried to gather water for cooking. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Bertade, it seems that in this Northern Land, the greatest difficulty in battle isn¡¯t the Canine Descendants, but the long supply lines and the dry land!"


    The King lifted his water flask, gulping down several mouthfuls of the cool brackish water. He let out a contented sigh before looking around sentimentally.


    A shallow stream flowed from the eastern Sierra Madre Mountains, struggling to reach this place, finally giving the land a touch of vitality. Around the stream, yucca flowers were in bloom. Long, sword-shaped leaves sent up tall spires, and on these spires blossomed brilliant white flowers, like little bells. There were a few tiny dots crawling on the bells. Curiously, Xiulote leaned in closer, only to find that they were white yucca moths, busy with the pollination of the flowers.


    At this moment, the setting sun dipped in the west, dyeing half the sky with a red glow. The heavens were awash with colors, the mountain ranges majestic with their undulating peaks, the highland vast and endless, and the air was filled with a sweet fragrance as the blossoms burst forth in front of them!


    The King paused his steps, silently gazing for a long time, his heart swelling with a conqueror¡¯s pride.


    "The highland vast and wild, the rivers and mountains picturesque. This Northern Land is boundless, but I do not need to build a Great Wall; I just need to hold them all in my hands!"


    Upon hearing the King¡¯s proclamation, Bertade stood solemnly behind His Majesty, in his unwavering armor. It was only after His Majesty turned to look again that he began to speak with a smile, his words laced with caution.


    "Your Majesty, this march is not truly difficult. Many rivers flow west from the mountain ranges in the East, and we have local Otomi guides to point out the roads and water sources. The truly daunting march will be crossing the Pamus State and entering the stronghold of the Guajili people, the Kolawea Wilderness that spans two thousand miles! There, the water sources are even scarcer, supplies even more lacking, and combined with complex terrain and no guides, any large-scale military campaign would be a disaster of death!"


    Hearing this, Xiulote gave a slight start and sighed softly.


    The Kolawea Wilderness was the cradle of the Guajili people, and further north lay the future border between the United States and Mexico, New Mexico, and Texas.


    In Xiulote¡¯s vague memory, although extremely arid, Kolawea was the mining heart of the North. There were not only extensive gold and silver mines but also massive open-pit coal mines and an iron ore deposit of unknown location. Yet, with the logistical capabilities of the time, advancing two thousand miles across the wilderness to exploit the minerals of Kolawea was simply an impossible task.


    "Bertade, I understand your meaning! This land is barren and desolate, and far too distant from the Mexica Alliance. There¡¯s no way to occupy it at this time, nor is it worth occupying. The purpose of this northern campaign is to engage in combat with the Guajili, to kill their warriors, to plunder their able-bodied population, and then to destroy the Tribal Alliance of the Canine Descendants! The large-scale military operations of the Allied Forces will be confined within the territory of Pamus State!"


    After marching for more than ten days, the King personally witnessed the desolation and vastness of the North and further clarified the objectives of the northern expedition. The North is infinitely vast, and without fast-moving Cavalry, it simply cannot be controlled. And once horses are obtained, the Canine Descendants of the North will become a major concern for the Empire. All of these factors require advance planning and the strategic placing of pieces. In areas the legions cannot reach, only trade and religion are the keys to containing the North.


    "Have the captured prisoners all been transported to the South?"


    After a moment of thought, Xiulote asked.


    The army had now fully entered the territory of Pamus State, over three hundred miles away from the Mountain City. With the sweeping strikes of the three Mexica legions, reports of victory continuously came from the front lines. More than ten ordinary Guajili Tribes had been destroyed by the Allied Forces, and over fifteen thousand Canine Descendant Tribes were erased from the map. According to the Samurai¡¯s report on their merits, more than three thousand Canine Warriors had been killed, and over eight thousand young men and women had been taken prisoner, while the casualties of the Allied Forces were only a few hundred.


    "Your Highness, the gradually captured population of over eight thousand have already been escorted by the Otomi Militia in charge of grain transportation to concentrate in the Mountain City to the South. Next, General Kuluka will arrange the subsequent journey, transporting them across the Lerma River, and into the heartland of the Kingdom. Finally, Marshal Olosh will personally allocate, according to the register, those captured Canine Descendants who can farm, evenly to the Nobility and Samurai who have been granted land for their military service,"


    Bertade explained in detail. Guajili warriors are notoriously unruly, and most veteran red-haired warriors were killed or fled during the attacks on the Tribes. Therefore, most of the Guajili prisoners were ordinary Tribal inhabitants, and their fate was to become Agricultural Slaves of the Kingdom. Only a very small number of surrendered Guajili warriors would be absorbed into the Kingdom¡¯s legions after truly converting to the Chief Divine.


    In fact, considering the degree of hatred the Otomi people held, during combat with the Guajili Canine Descendants, they were close to leaving no survivors. But the King issued strict orders, providing food for the prisoners, and since all Otomi legions knew the Mexica tradition of sacrifice, they obediently turned over the captives. To appease the feelings of the Otomi Warriors, Xiulote selected the Chieftains and Chieftains of the Canine Tribes and, in the presence of the generals, sacrificed them to the most high Chief Divine.


    Xiulote nodded. He looked to the not-so-distant bleak village, situated at the headwaters of the stream. It was now dinner time, and there wasn¡¯t a single wisp of cooking smoke in the village, nor any sign of people moving about. Only vaguely visible were exposed white Bones scattered around the village, with Otomi clothing strewn nearby.


    "Along the way, Pamus State has been completely devastated; who knows how many years it will take to recover¡­"


    Bertade shook his head. He had heard the Scouts¡¯ report and was aware of the brutality of the Canine Descendants. They were ferocious and glorified strength, and they even disregarded the lives of the elderly and weak amongst their own, so how could they care about the lives of the Otomi? The remaining population of Pamus State was probably even lower than previously estimated.


    The two stood by the creek, watching the sun set in the West, while discussing the military strategies for the northern campaign. Far off, several Scouts were running from the North. They carried the green flags that represented victory, evidently bringing more good news.


    August ended amidst slaughter. The three Mexica legions, like charging wild buffaloes, stampeded forward, heading for the camps of the Canine Tribes, completely destroying every obstacle in their way.


    The thunderous fall of rocks into the lake would always startle a flock of birds. Facing an existential threat, the remaining Canine Tribes finally reacted. They abandoned the nearly harvested fields, packed up their rudimentary belongings, and fled northward in the night. However, like birds returning to their nests, the escaping waterfowl had yet to lose heart, gathering around the major Tribes, heeding the arrangements of the lead birds.


    In a few fertile areas of Pamus State, the Canine Descendants gradually amassed into tens of thousands, forming contiguous camps. The eight Great Tribes each gathered their vassal Tribes, mobilizing thousands of warriors. The Tribal leaders debated day and night, arguing loudly, determining the future of nearly one hundred thousand Guajili people!

 Chapter 603 - 299: Red Fox Valley

    The continuous mountains undulated across the highland, shaping various forms as if crafted by the Earth Mother Goddess herself. The mountains altered the direction of the wind and also affected the flow of streams. When the cold northern breeze was blocked by the high mountains, the climate grew warm; when the mountain streams converged into small lakes in the valleys, the soil became moist. Where it is warm and moist, precious patches of fertile land would form. In the endless wilderness of the Northern Land, these were the dwelling places that Tribes fought and killed over.


    Amoxtli and the Scouts ascended a narrow mountain path, reaching the top of a small hill two hundred meters high. Gazing out, he saw two mountain ranges hundreds of meters high extending parallel from the East to the West, converging in the North and South to form a valley about twenty or thirty miles long. A winding river followed the mountain¡¯s range, meandering from the East. More streams joined the river in the valley, bringing the source of life to all things.


    "What a wonderful place this is!"


    Standing on high ground, Amoxtli gazed at the precious expanse of greenery beside the river, unable to help but voice his emotion.


    "Awooo, this is Red Fox Valley, of course, it¡¯s a great place! Our Red Fox Tribe is one of the strongest tribes, naturally, we occupy the best fertile land!"


    Ivican grinned. In the entire Pamus State, the valley before them was the second-largest fertile land after the surroundings of Pamus City.


    Naturally, such a desirable spot in the wilderness wouldn¡¯t be vacant. Along the long river, there were hundreds of thatched huts and sheds, as well as farmlands close to the river. Before the southern invasion, as many as over twenty thousand Otomi people had settled here, even establishing a small Otomi City-State.


    When the Canine Descendants moved south, they split into many groups, and this sizable fertile area was quickly eyed by the Otuwa of the Red Fox Tribe. Otuwa brought together the "Red Frog" and "Red Cat," which were at the bottom of the eight major Tribes. The three tribes joined forces and conquered this fertile land. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Next came the division of territory according to strength. The Red Fox Tribe took over the small town in the center of the valley, the Red Cat Tribe took the river entrance on the east side, and the Red Frog Tribe occupied the valley exit on the west. As for the local Otomi inhabitants, aside from three or four thousand people who escaped quickly, the rest were mostly slaughtered, leaving only two thousand able agricultural slaves.


    "Awooo, the land to the south is very fertile, the crops are growing well! The pumpkins are already being harvested, it¡¯s just that the corn has to wait one more month. This time Chief Otuwa asked us to plant more quick-ripening pumpkins and less late-ripening corn. The warriors were secretly complaining... but now it seems, the Fox Chief is an old fox after all, much smarter than us!"


    In the center of the valley, vast areas of pumpkin were ready for harvest, and thousands of tribal folk and agricultural slaves were busy harvesting. Seeing this scene, Ivican laughed happily. His gaze then moved to the cornfields in the east and west of the valley, and he sneered.


    "The Red Cat Chieftain is a dumb cat, the Red Frog Chieftain is nothing but a stupid toad! Right now, the Cactus Tribe¡¯s large army is stationed just eighty miles to the southeast, and who knows when they will attack. Guarding such a huge patch of unripe cornfields, really puts them in a tough spot ¡ª if they want to fight, they can¡¯t win; if they want to leave, they can¡¯t escape!"


    Hearing this, Amoxtli¡¯s heart stirred. He moved closer to his friend, lowering his voice to ask.


    "Ivican, you often go in and out of the Chieftain¡¯s longhouse, reporting military intelligence to the Chief, you¡¯re someone with insight! With the current situation, what exactly are the plans of the Chieftains of the three great Tribes?"


    Flattered by his friend¡¯s compliment, Ivican laughed proudly. Then he scratched his head somewhat distressfully.


    "We¡¯ve been discussing this for many days, and I still don¡¯t fully understand the Chieftains¡¯ plans. The Jiowar leader ordered the Tribal Warriors to pack their belongings and be ready to retreat at any moment. But from what I¡¯ve heard the three Chieftains discussing, it seems like they still want to face off against the south. Now with so many ordinary Tribes gathering here, with our numbers and the defensive advantage of the valley terrain, there¡¯s a general feeling that we can still put up a fight, at least until we harvest the corn in the valley before we leave!"


    Amoxtli thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement. He looked at the dozen tribal banners fluttering in the valley and the tens of thousands of tribal folk. The cacophony of voices filled the valley and reached his ears from here, inexplicably bolstering a bit of confidence.


    With the northward move of the Cactus Tribe, many Guajili Tribes retreated northward, gradually gathering. Now, within the Pamus State, surrounding the fertile lands, two major tribal centers have emerged.


    One is located a hundred miles northeast in Pamus City, with the strongest Red Dog Tribe at the helm, comprising five large tribes and dozens of ordinary ones, numbering more than sixty thousand tribal people. The other is the current Red Fox Valley, headed by the second strongest Red Fox Tribe, with three large tribes and over a dozen ordinary tribes, amounting to at least thirty thousand people.


    "Hmm, if all the tribes of the valley mobilize, we should be able to muster over ten thousand fighting men, and the robust women can help with the defense. With this advantageous terrain, as long as each tribe guards the valley entrance well, we should be able to hold out until the corn harvest!"


    Amoxtli comforted himself while looking around. The valley¡¯s north and south were lined with continuous mountains, with only a few narrow mountain paths like the one beneath his feet, which were virtually impassable for large armies. The valley had two steep entrances to the southeast and northwest, barely allowing two hundred people to pass side by side. As long as they could use the terrain to their advantage and defend these entrances well, they might stand a chance, right?


    Both men, weighed down by their thoughts, gazed at the valley below, desperately cobbling together some semblance of confidence. They had both seen the Cactus Tribe in combat up close. Although the enemy¡¯s archery was formidable, attacking uphill at the valley entrance would reduce its power due to the terrain, and the thick-skinned Samurai could be countered with powerful stone-throwing.


    After a while, Amoxtli managed a forced smile.


    "Ivican, the scouting report hasn¡¯t changed much since a few days ago. The Cactus Tribe¡¯s legion is still resting eighty miles away to the southeast. I wager their food supply won¡¯t be that plentiful either, so it¡¯s not certain they can afford to fight... If there¡¯s nothing urgent, I¡¯ll head back to the tribe!"


    "Alright then, I¡¯ll report back to the Chieftain first. Later tonight, if you¡¯re free, let¡¯s eat meat together! Aww, and bring your daughter with the exceptional Archery skills! I still have some stockpiled hedgehog meat, which roasted and eaten with fresh pumpkin is especially delicious!"


    "Sure! Aran¡¯s Archery has already surpassed mine; you¡¯re the only one who can give her some pointers now!"


    "Great! Aww, in another couple of years, Aran will be able to dye her hair red! I¡¯m really envious of you!"


    The two men pounded each other¡¯s chests in farewell. Ivican led the Red Fox Scouts back towards the valley center, traversing the narrow mountain path and over a small hill to the north. Amoxtli, along with several tribal Scouts, went west along the mountains, heading to the northwestern valley entrance.


    The group proceeded westward, moving away from the densely populated center of the fertile valley. Amoxtli¡¯s tribe, as a vassal of the Great Red Fox Tribe, naturally could not settle in the fertile valley. They were allocated just outside the northwestern valley entrance, relying on mountains that turned northward, a position further to the north.


    This area was downstream of the river, where the small river was already drying up, only moistening a small patch of fertile soil along its banks. The soil had been cultivated into farmland, planted with patches of pumpkins and corn, where hundreds of tribal people were working hard in the fields, harvesting pumpkins. A row of low thatched huts had been set up along the edge of the farmland, close to the nearby hills. At the base of the hills, a number of semi-subterranean dwellings had been dug for habitation to save on the wood and grass needed for the huts.


    A sparse wooden fence surrounded the farmland and hills, outlining a typical tribal camp. Over a hundred Tribal Warriors stood guard in the camp, and at the gate fluttered a red crow flag.


    The "Red Crow" Tribe¡ªthis was Amoxtli¡¯s home. Seeing this barren camp, he exhaled a breath of relief. He led the Scouts down to the camp gate, where the Tribal Warriors guarding it bowed their heads in salute to him.


    Amoxtli nodded indifferently, maintaining the dignity of a red-haired warrior. Just as he was about to head for the tribe¡¯s central longhouse, he spotted a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old Canine Descendant girl dashing towards him.


    The girl ran with determination, her body was strong, her movements as agile as a cheetah. She wore a tight-fitting short-sleeved gambeson and carried a small cedar Hunting Bow on her back, with a rare Obsidian Dagger at her waist. Carved on the exquisitely handled dagger were three enigmatic square symbols and a mysterious black wolf¡¯s head.

 Chapter 604: Three Hundred Chapters: The Young Girl Alan, Tribal Chief

    "Daddy! You¡¯re back!"


    The young girl moved quickly, reaching him in two steps. Her eyes were bright, sharp like a hunter¡¯s, and her eyebrows lifted with a warrior¡¯s confident fierceness. Her majestic eyes and upturned lips together formed a somewhat delicate face.


    Seeing the young girl in front of him, Amoxtli¡¯s face showed a rare kindness and tenderness. He reached out and tousled her short hair.


    "Alan, I¡¯m back! How has the tribe been while I was away?"


    "Daddy, the pumpkins in the tribe are ripe, and everyone has been busy harvesting them. Seeing us gather pumpkins, many common tribe nomads have been lurking around. The warriors have been holding weapons day and night, sleeping by the fence, vigilant against these people!"


    Alan pursed her lips and pointed towards a distant figure looking around. Her movements were agile, with calluses on her palms and fingers from archery, and her skin was a healthy wheat color, showcasing a vigorous beauty.


    Amoxtli glanced over and saw several lean figures with crude weapons, peering into the pumpkin fields from afar. But they were too far away to see their faces clearly. The red-haired warrior¡¯s eyebrows raised, his expression turning somewhat menacing.


    "Recently, many common tribes have been moving north, severely short of food. To fight over food, people die every day in the valley... Alan, grab your bow and arrows later, and come with me to shoot these people! Leave two alive, and interrogate them about their origin. Conveniently, Ivican will be here tonight; he¡¯s from the Great Red Fox Tribe, and he can bear witness!"


    "Sure!"


    Alan nodded briskly, gripping her bow and arrows on her back. As a hunter of the wilderness, she was long accustomed to death. Then, the girl pulled out two pairs of sharp rodent teeth from her pocket, smiling brightly.


    "Daddy, yesterday morning, I shot two groundhogs! I¡¯ve already processed the meat; tonight, I¡¯ll invite you and Uncle Ivican for some roast. Hee hee, it¡¯ll be a good opportunity to consult on archery..."


    "Groundhogs, two of them? Alan, did you shoot them yourself?"


    Amoxtli was somewhat surprised. Groundhogs were one of the most familiar animals to the Canine Descendants of the wilderness. They were highly alert, quick to run, and adept at burrowing. The usual hunter traps couldn¡¯t hold groundhogs, and shooting such nimble creatures was easier said than done.


    "Yes, Daddy. The pumpkins in the field are ripe, so the groundhogs will surely come. The night before last, I took my bow and slept early in the field. I waited until dawn when a few groundhogs came to nibble, and I shot one with a raise of my hand! The others scattered, and I aimed two arrows at the entrances of their holes and luckily hit another one!"


    Alan showed a happy smile and vigorously shook the rodent teeth in her hand.


    "Two of them, two! One was especially fat, after skinning it weighed three pounds!"


    "Ha ha, patient, quick to react, and smart... Alan, you really are a born hunter!"


    Amoxtli laughed in admiration. He affectionately tousled the girl¡¯s head again.


    "Once this battle is over, I¡¯ll teach you all the scout skills and take you to hunt a couple of Otomi dogs!"


    "Daddy, my archery is already better than yours! You promised before that if my archery surpasses yours, you would let me join the Scout Team... I want to start scouting now!"


    Alan widened her eyes expectantly at Amoxtli. However, he sternly replied,


    "Not now, being a scout now is too dangerous with the warriors from Cactus Tribe around! Let¡¯s discuss this after the war is over!"


    Hearing her father¡¯s refusal, Alan lowered her head, disappointed and sulking.


    "Hmph! The warriors from the Cactus Tribe, I¡¯ve seen them before... they are the ones to be killed."


    "Ah..."


    Hearing the girl¡¯s words, Amoxtli sighed, memories of long ago flooding his mind. Back then, the girl was only around eleven or twelve years old, traveling north along the Madre Mountains alone. She was wrapped in a small shawl, carrying a dagger and a Hunting Bow, with a bag of nearly depleted food on her back, dirty as if she were a wild child. When he first met her, he saw her Obsidian Dagger and thought she was a lost young boy from a Tribal Chief¡¯s family, so he took her back to the tribe. Unexpectedly, he ended up raising her as his own daughter...


    Amoxtli reminisced for a while, then smiled tenderly and asked earnestly.


    "Alan, you once lived in Vastec people¡¯s lands in the East; what was it like there?" S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ah, the East? There¡¯s a lot more to eat there than here, more animals, more trees, everything is green!"


    Alan lifted her head, furrowing her brows in thought.


    "As for the Vastec people... I was young then. I only remember that occasionally Vastec traders would come to the tribe for trade. They were quite friendly, liked to go unclothed, and really liked dancing... Tribes in the East are different from those in the North; they rarely kill each other. But the capture teams from the Cactus Tribe appeared often..."


    As she spoke, Alan¡¯s voice gradually grew solemn, and her eyes seemed to harbor flames. Amoxtli shook his head and lovingly tousled the girl¡¯s hair again.


    "Hmm, plenty of food, they like dancing, and rarely fight... good, very good! Alan, I¡¯ll go report to the Chieftain first and look for you later!"


    "Understood, Dad."


    Amoxtli waved his hand and continued to stride forward, his mind full of thoughts. He soon reached the center of the camp, directly lifting the cloth curtain and entering the leader¡¯s longhouse.


    The longhouses of ordinary Canine Descendant tribes were poor and small, to the extent that they couldn¡¯t even afford wealth disparity. This one, referred to as a leader¡¯s longhouse, was so cramped and lowly that in the southern Alliance or Kingdom, it would only be considered a home for commoners. The longhouse was filled with the strong smell of herbs and scattered bones of various animals everywhere. A lean figure was sitting cross-legged amid the piles of herbs and animal bones.


    Hearing the noise, the over fifty-year-old Chieftain "Crow," Kakalo, looked up towards the entrance as Amoxtli walked in.


    "Amoxtli, you¡¯re back! How¡¯s the situation in the south?"


    "The same as usual. The Cactus Tribe¡¯s army hasn¡¯t made a move, probably waiting for the food supplies to arrive."


    "Any news from the three Great Tribes? Are the other tribes mobilizing?"


    "The surrounding tribes are all mobilizing, and many tribal warriors have gathered in the valley. According to Ivican, the three Great Tribes are planning to fight with the south until the corn harvest. But Chieftain Otuwa has already received plenty of food, I¡¯m not sure if he will retreat."


    Kakalo¡¯s aged face had deep-set eyes. Upon hearing this, he definitively said,


    "Otuwa, that old fox! In all these years, I¡¯ve never seen him lose a battle. The Red Fox Tribe has gathered enough food. If the main forces of the southern allied troops encircle us, and our warriors¡¯ casualties increase, that old fox will surely flee! Hmm, although this valley has strategic advantages, it might not hold for long!"


    "What?! But Otuwa is currently the leader of all tribes in the valley! If he runs during the battle, then there¡¯s nothing left to defend! Red Cat and Red Frog control the strategic passage at the mouth of the valley, how would they let him escape?"


    Amoxtli was worried. He looked at the old chieftain who shook his head.


    "Red Cat and Red Frog¡¯s chieftains... Let¡¯s watch and see. We also need to be prepared! The tribe has already mobilized five hundred fighting men, and the previously captured weapons have also been distributed. Based on your intelligence, plenty of early-ripening pumpkins were planted in the fields. After this harvest, we should be able to manage for a few months."


    "Chieftain, since the tribe now has some food, why don¡¯t we leave the tribe-concentrated valley and retreat early..."


    Amoxtli paused, his expression flickering, but he showed no shame. For the Canine Descendants of the north, the primary concerns were the survival of the tribe, the number of able-bodied members, and the amount of food. Thus, running away was not shameful; staying alive was most important. As for such things as honor or beliefs, those were troublesome things concocted by the well-fed southern tribes.


    Kakalo thought for a moment, his face trembling with wrinkles, and shook his head.


    "Not now. The three Great Tribes have already given orders for everyone to comply with the conscription. We are a tributary of the Red Fox Tribe, watched by many eyes. Besides, there are several tribes blocking the way outside, and patrols from the Great Tribes are around. Everyone still wants to fight; if we flee first and get caught, we would be punished severely. We can only wait for an opportunity when everyone else doesn¡¯t want to fight, or when the battle becomes too fierce to manage!"


    Amoxtli lowered his eyes. After a while, he sighed.


    "Chieftain, the Cactus Tribe is formidable in battle... Facing such a powerful tribe, according to the traditions of the Wilderness, it might be better to surrender early!"


    "Foolish! Amoxtli, have you been frightened by the Cactus Tribe? Speaking such nonsense, how can I trust you to lead the tribe! Cough, cough..."


    Upon hearing this, Kakalo suddenly became angry and started coughing forcefully. Amoxtli quickly stepped forward, carefully helping the old chieftain catch his breath. It was a while before Kakalo calmed down. He said in a deep voice,


    "Amoxtli, the traditions of the Wilderness only apply to the Canine Descendant tribes living there! These southern tribes, though descended from the Wilderness, have forgotten their roots and accepted others as their ancestors! They don¡¯t see us as their kin, how can we trust them and entrust our lives and livelihood to them!"


    "Moreover, to whom would you surrender? The Cactus Tribe? What is their reputation? Capturing robust individuals, sacrificing nobles, destroying other tribes... Over decades, even the far-flung Sakatekas know of their brutality."


    "As for the Otomi Tribe... how many Otomi dogs have we killed along the way? At that time, everyone was out of food, and hardly any prisoners were kept. The Great Tribes think only of occupying lands and have also wiped out the nobles of the Pamus State. With such hatred, if the Otomi get their hands on us, wouldn¡¯t they flay us alive!..."


    Amoxtli closed his eyes and nodded slowly. He remained silent for a good while before opening his eyes again.


    "Chieftain, encountering a hostile tribe on the Wilderness, if we can beat them, we fight; if we cannot, we run; if we can¡¯t escape, we surrender. Now, since we can neither overcome them nor surrender, we really need to think hard about where to run! Before coming to see you, I suddenly had an idea..."


    "Oh? Let¡¯s hear it..."


    Kakalo widened his eyes, leaning forward to listen. Amoxtli whispered his plan. After a long time, the old chieftain finally nodded heavily.


    "If that¡¯s the case, it might indeed be a way out. We, the Guajili people, never worry about long distances, nor do we fear confrontation. But along the way, we still have to overcome two more challenges! Hmm, maybe we can also contact a few familiar tribes to join us..."


    Soft whispers vanished into the hut, as the faint scent of herbs drifted into the distance. The sun gradually set, casting the hut¡¯s shadow towards the East, as if pointing towards a new direction

 Chapter 605 - 301: Chieftains

    "Ivican, you can go down now! Scouting all the way must have been tiring, go to the warehouse and receive two bags of pumpkins."


    "Yes, Chieftain. Oh, thank you for your bounty!"


    Ivican grinned from ear to ear. He looked up at the solemn hall where three tribal leaders sat cross-legged, then bowed with a clenched fist, respectfully saluting the Red Fox Chieftain. The Red Fox Chieftain waved his hand, and the red-haired scout obediently turned and left.


    This year, the Red Fox Chieftain Otuwa was in his early forties and was no longer considered young among the short-lived Canine Descendants. Time had taken the strength from his muscles and etched lines onto his face. He wore a wolf fur robe, with high cheekbones and slightly tilted eyes that were sharply piercing. At first glance, he looked like a fox in wolf¡¯s skin.


    This place had once been the most solemn Temple in the Otomi City-State of the Valley. Now it served as the Guajili¡¯s council hall. Inside, the sculpture of the Primordial God was damaged and broken, the surrounding murals stained with congealed blood, and dozens of tanned hides were spread across the floor.


    The Red Fox Chieftain sat on the soft hides, opposite the other two large tribal leaders. Mizili, the Red Cat Chieftain, was tall and thin with narrow eyes. Keka, the Red Frog Chieftain, was slightly plump with fierce eyes. The three of them, wearing wolf fur robes and seated together, emitted an intense jungle aura.


    "The Aztecs have stopped eighty miles to the south, just as a few days ago, motionless. According to the scouts¡¯ report, they are transporting grain northward and sending the strong captives caught within the tribes southward, possibly to sacrifice them before the gods!"


    Otuwa spoke indifferently. The Red Fox Tribe had a century-long heritage and was very familiar with the southern tribes, owning special paintings that narrate the history of the Cactus Tribe.


    "Damned Cactus Tribe, ferocious Jaguars, destined to be torn into pieces by packs of wolves!"


    Upon hearing this, Keka¡¯s eyes widened as he vehemently cursed.


    "Otuwa, Mizili, the Cactus Tribe¡¯s camp is not too far. We can gather five hundred red-haired warriors from our three tribes, along with some ordinary tribal scouts, and give them a night raid!"


    Hearing this proposition, Otuwa and Mizili exchanged glances, then gently shook their heads. Night raids were a task for the elite, and regardless of the outcome, most were sure to not return. Red-haired warriors were the ruling core of the tribes, and even combined, the three tribes had no more than a thousand red-haired warriors¡ªwho could not be recklessly squandered.


    "Keka, don¡¯t rush! The Aztec¡¯s camp is heavily guarded and has many patrols and tiger-headed scouts at night. We¡¯ll discuss the night raid later. I¡¯ve already arranged for six or seven flexible ordinary tribes to move hundreds of miles south and harass their grain route! These days they haven¡¯t moved north immediately, presumably because of the harassment!"


    Otuwa looked at the angry Red Frog Chieftain and soothed him with a smile.


    "Recently, all tribes have been mobilizing warriors and reinforcing the fortress at both the eastern and western valley mouths. We have the geographical advantage, just need to hold for one month, until everyone has gathered their harvest. After that, whether we fight or flee, we¡¯ll be much more at ease!"


    Mizili nodded in agreement. He pondered for a moment, then asked in a low voice.


    "Otuwa, has there been any response from the envoy sent south? What did the Great Chief of the Aztecs say to our offer of peace?"


    "Mizili, you think of surrendering! I should take your head..."


    "Keka, shut up, this is just a tactic to buy time!"


    Otuwa roared coldly, and Keka glared, finally keeping his mouth shut. Then, the Red Fox Chieftain, frowning, continued.


    "The Great Chief of the Aztecs did not want to see our envoy. It was only after the envoy bribed the chief¡¯s trusted aide with many precious feathers and gemstones that we learned it was Chichika the Great Chief¡¯s letter that was too arrogant and provoked the Great Chief!"


    "What? The Red Dog Tribe is the Red Dog Tribe, and we are us. Although the eight tribes formed some kind of alliance, it¡¯s just a sham... Otuwa, hurry and let the envoy clarify, it¡¯s not like our three tribes and the five Red Dog tribes are in cahoots!"


    Hearing Mizili¡¯s words, Otuwa was momentarily speechless. After a while, he shook his head and sighed.


    "During negotiations, everyone tends to exaggerate their strengths; nobody pulls the rug out from under each other! In my opinion, this is just an excuse. The Aztec Great Chief is having it all too easy and underestimates us Guajili people!"


    "We must show them what we¡¯re capable of! Otuwa, let¡¯s mobilize our tribes and gather ten thousand men. Call on the five Red Dog tribes to gather another ten thousand warriors! With twenty thousand men attacking from both front and rear, we¡¯ll first shred those Otomi dogs on the right flank!"


    Keka couldn¡¯t help but speak up again. Known for his bravery on the wilderness battlefields, he had an innate sense for warfare. Hearing this suggestion, Otuwa was taken aback and actually found it somewhat feasible. However, a moment later, the Red Fox Chieftain shook his head. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It¡¯s not that easy! I did indeed send an envoy to Chichika for reinforcements, but I¡¯m not sure if they will come or how many will come. Besides, the Aztec forces are still watching us from the central road, and it¡¯s not so easy to move ten thousand men."


    "Then let¡¯s select five thousand tribal warriors and leave the rest to defend the valley! The elite five thousand will take a detour from the northwest. With the speed of our Canine Descendants, who are skilled in quick strikes, it¡¯s a good strategy! The Cactus Tribe is extremely arrogant, splitting their army into three routes, each two days¡¯ march apart. If we time it well and coordinate with Chichika, we can eliminate those Otomi dogs on the east road in just one day! Afterwards, we¡¯ll let Chichika harass the Cactus Tribe in the middle and cut off their supply line..."


    Keka continued with his strategic plan, growing more excited as he spoke, his loud voice echoing in the hall like the croaking of frogs in summer. The other two chieftains, however, pursed their lips and remained silent.


    After a while, once he had tired of talking, Otuwa finally spoke indifferently.


    "Keka, your plan is good, but there¡¯s a problem... how can you make Chichika do as you say?"


    "We can send an envoy, explain it to him, even plan it together!"


    "But even if Chichika agrees, can you trust him? If we send troops to attack the enemies on the eastern route and Chichika doesn¡¯t show up, what then? If the Aztec forces from the central route arrive in time, we¡¯ll be caught in a pincer attack, and then we¡¯re all done for!"


    "Ah, Chichika¡¯s leader..."


    Keka opened his mouth to say something, but Mizili interrupted him.


    "I don¡¯t trust Chichika! We must keep the tribe¡¯s fate in our own hands, not hand it over to someone else!"


    "The Red Cat Chieftain speaks sense. Keka, if everyone mistrusts each other, your plan of a large collaborative force is just hot air, noisy and foul!"


    Otuwa made a crude joke, and Mizili burst out laughing. Keka, somewhat embarrassed and angered, shouted back.


    "So this won¡¯t work, and that won¡¯t work either. Then you tell me, what should we do? Should we just sit here and wait to get beaten up?"


    Hearing Keka¡¯s question, the Red Fox Chieftain¡¯s mind worked rapidly, but a gentle smile appeared on his face. He affectionately patted Keka on the shoulder.


    "Keka, forget all these plans! With all these tribes here, we can mobilize over ten thousand men to properly defend the valley! The Red Frog Tribe is the best at fighting, and you¡¯re the strongest among us three, so I¡¯m relying on you to arrange the defense of the valley!"


    Keka paused, then slowly nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

 Chapter 606 - 302: The First Battle in the Valley - Part 1

    ```


    September arrived on the tail end of the rainy season, bringing clarity to the skies with its sunshine and hope for harvest to the earth. Rain during the start of autumn ensures a bountiful collection of crops. To the south of the Lerma River, the Kingdom of the Lake was still abundant with rainfall, providing ample moisture for the crops. Messengers were boating on Lake Patzcuaro, relaying orders to hasten the autumn harvest. At a glance, they saw towering cornfields everywhere, lush and seemingly endless.


    Farmers in the Lake Region were busy in the fields, inhaling the mature scent of grains and wearing the joy of the harvest season on their faces. Pumpkins had already been collected, beans had just ripened, and corn had formed ears. Under the supervision of the Priests, the kingdom¡¯s spring ploughing was timelier this year than last, with favorable wind and rain all the way, promising a bountiful year!


    In the Wilderness of the Northern Land, where the brief rainy season had just passed, the clarion calls of war grew more urgent by the day. The desolate highlands rose and fell, with thousands of Otomi Militia hustling back and forth. With shoulder loads and hand carriages, and some single-wheeled carts provided by the kingdom, they shuttled military rations from the Mountain city to the Northern Land and then escorted prisoners back from the Northern Land to the Mountain city.


    After several days of rest and replenishment with the latest batch of provisions, the three routes of the Allied Forces followed the Royal Decree of the central army and once again sprung into action. Black Wolf Toltec was the first to break camp and strike. The army¡¯s Scouts and skirmishers spread out far and wide, engaging in combat with small squads of Canine Descendants. The unstoppable eight thousand Central Regiment advanced northward with grandeur, and after three days of marching to the sound of the bugle, they arrived at the Red Fox Valley where the Canine Descendants gathered.


    Not a single cloud marred the sky, while the earth brimmed with a desolate intent to kill. Mountains converged with rivers to form the rare fertile soil of the Northern Land, attracting the brutal battles of the Wilderness. The eight thousand Allied Forces pitched their camp southeast of the Red Fox Valley and then slowly expanded outward, enveloping the southeast entrance of the valley. Tens of thousands of Guajili Tribe members consequently retracted into the Red Fox Valley, with each Tribe only sending a few Tribal Warriors to harass, while the majority of their forces remained steadfastly fortified within.


    "So this is the Red Fox Valley?"


    Standing before a southeastern valley entrance, several miles away and closely observing the terrain of the valley mouth, Toltec, accompanied by his Personal Army, soon furrowed his brows.


    The narrow mountain path stretched for miles, gradually ascending, and at its end were several wooden and stone bastions built upon high grounds. A red mountain cat flag fluttered atop the bastions.


    Beneath the flag were the defending Guajili Canine Descendants. Brandishing Short Bows, spears, Stone Spears, and Stone Hammers, their numbers exceeded a thousand. Among these thousand Canine Warriors, there were also two hundred seasoned red-haired warriors who were now bellowing loudly and brandishing their weapons, provocatively challenging the southern Allied Forces from afar. From a distance, despite the rudimentary equipment of the Canine Descendants, they appeared to be high in spirits.


    "Respected Black Wolf Commander, this is the fertile Pa River Valley! Among the Allied Forces, many lands of the Nobility are located here, and a third of the Pamus Samurai come from this place. This is our Otomi territory; it has simply been shamelessly occupied by the Canine Descendants, who also changed it to a canine name!"


    Mespa led a hundred family warriors and stood by Black Wolf¡¯s side. He shouted angrily, his eyes filled with hatred as he glared at the Canine Descendants in the Valley, as if trying to kill them with his gaze alone.


    "Hmm, the mouth of the valley is narrow, making it difficult for the army to maneuver. The enemy holds the high ground with fortified bastions. The bastions are stocked with throwable rocks and timber. Huh, these Wilderness Canine Descendants know how to defend themselves quite decently! Could they have learned from the Otomi people?"


    After observing for a while, Toltec turned to Mespa with surprise and asked.


    "You mentioned there is a small city inside the valley? What¡¯s the terrain like there, does it still have Otomi who are holding out that we can use to coordinate with?"


    Upon hearing the question, Mespa¡¯s expression darkened, and he shook his head bitterly.


    "Commander, the valley¡¯s terrain is natural, its defense relies solely on the encircling mountains, as well as the bastions at the northwest and southeast valley entrances. The city in the middle of the valley doesn¡¯t even have defensive walls; it¡¯s just a dignified place for the Nobility to live. The only thing that can be considered sturdy is the stone Temple at the center of the city."


    "The deceitful Guajili Canine Descendants attacked so swiftly that everyone had no time to prepare! They had sent over a hundred red-haired warriors in advance to infiltrate the bastions around the valley entrance. It took less than half a day for the northwest entrance to be overrun, and thousands of Canine Descendants, howling like wild beasts, charged in. Their eyes were blood-red with fury, killing anyone on sight and devouring whatever food they found, akin to demons emerging from the earth! The Nobility, along with their family warriors, retreated to the vicinity of the Temple and valiantly held out for half a day. But then more and more Canine Descendants kept coming, with over ten Tribe¡¯s flags showing up..."


    "Seeing that the situation was hopeless, the Chieftains of the Nobility discussed together and decided to lead their family warriors to retreat through the southeast valley entrance, which was still under their control. When they left, they left hundreds of brave Militia in the Temple to hold out, now all have gloriously returned to the Divine Kingdom!..."


    Toltec patiently listened to Mespa finish speaking. After contemplating and filtering out the redundant words, he asked in a serious tone.


    "Mespa, from what you¡¯ve said, with such a treacherous valley, you Otomi only held out for one day?"


    "Ah, not just one day. From the time the Scouts reported the enemy, it was about... roughly two to three days!"


    When questioned, Mespa looked ashamed, his face turning crimson with embarrassment.


    "Mainly, the warriors were unprepared, and there was no unity among the Nobility. Moreover, the Canine Descendants were fiercely descending from the south in such a frenzied search for survival..."


    "How many residents were originally in the valley? How many Militia, how many men could be withdrawn? Are there any Otomi still captured in the valley who can be rallied to our cause?"


    ```


    Toltec interrupted Mespa¡¯s explanation with a further question. Mespa paused, momentarily lost for words, before replying.


    "There were originally twenty or thirty thousand people in the valley. When it fell, only about a thousand nobility and samurai managed to escape, and later we gathered two to three thousand militia. As for the other scattered common people, the nobles did not have the time to care, and it is unknown how many escaped. Not long ago, scouts saw from the mountains that there are now thousands of captured Otomi farmers in the valley, tilling the fields for the Canine Descendants. However, they¡¯ve been so terrified by the Canines that at best they can pass on messages; we can¡¯t count on them for anything else..."


    "Black Wolf Camp Chief, I was in Pamus City at the time and, frankly, do not know much about the situation in the valley that day. If you need it, I can have a few nobles who hail from the Pa River Valley come and report in detail."


    "No need! We¡¯ve come a long way, seen plenty of Canine Tribes¡ªnothing more than rats in the fields. There are just exceptionally more of them here. As for the fortifications at the mouth of the valley, let¡¯s lay into them for a while and see what they¡¯re really made of!"


    Toltec raised his head, waving his hand grandly, then pulled out a small red flag and pointed toward the camp at the mouth of the valley.


    "Thud, thud, thud!"


    The low drumbeats of war sounded, the messenger¡¯s flag waved. Samurai Camp Chief Yolike blew his bone whistle, and five hundred lightly-armored archers wearing paper armor, with a loose formation, quickly entered the narrow mountain path. Behind the large group of archers were five hundred vanguard barbarians poised to charge.


    Soon, the archers reached just over a hundred paces from the mouth of the valley and deployed a shooting formation. Clutching their longbows and looking up, they inched closer, ready to shoot. The enemy encampment, leveraging the terrain, stood a good ten meters high! Atop it, hundreds of Canine Hunters, each with short bows, set their bone arrows, also ready to strike.


    Yolike squinted his eyes, raised his shield, and gauged the distance for the upward shot. He continued to close in until he was sixty paces from the camp. On the camp, an impatient Canine Hunter couldn¡¯t hold back and, lifting his hunting bow, "whooshed" a short arrow downwards. Influenced by him, the surrounding Canine Hunters started shooting their arrows.


    "Whoosh, whoosh!"


    An arrow storm approached head-on, bringing with it blasts of wind, and faintly intermixed with the curses of red-haired warriors.


    "Pah! These barbarians from the northlands, squawking wild dogs! Without hearing the command, they shoot a flurry of disordered arrows, not even as good as the Tekos, totally lacking in discipline!"


    Yolike spat disdainfully. Hailing from a surrendered Tarasco army, he had many years of combat experience: skilled in both archery and spear technique.


    Both the Kingdom and the Alliance legion imposed strict requirements on the samurai to follow orders, especially in large-scale battles, where it was crucial to act in unison. In comparison, the discipline of the Canine Warriors was far inferior even to the Kingdom¡¯s long-spear-wielding militia.


    "Thunk, thunk."


    A few feathered arrows thudded into the wooden shield. Gaugeing the force behind the arrows on his shield, the Samurai Camp Chief sharply blew the bone whistle around his neck.


    "Toot toot! Volley fire!"


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    A volley of arrows rose from behind Yolike, raining down on the encampment sixty paces away. Eight or nine Canine Hunters screamed piercingly and "thumped" off the embankments, leaving behind long trails of blood. The remaining hunters paused for a moment, then crouched lower and shot back even more ferociously. Soon, nearly ten legionary archers fell to the ground as well, clutching their throats or faces, groaning as they collapsed. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    From their elevated position, taking advantage of the terrain, even the Canine Hunters¡¯ short bows could wound the legion¡¯s longbowmen at the same distance. Some of the red-haired warriors were particularly adept at archery, each arrow targeting vital points such as the head, throat, and chest.


    Just as Yolike moved his shield aside to observe the effect of the shooting, a bone arrow whistled sharply toward him, hitting his rattan helmet squarely on the head. A pain shot across the Samurai Camp Chief¡¯s forehead, causing his heart to tremble, and he stepped back twice before reaching up to his head. The bone arrow, having lost much of its force, had merely penetrated the finely-woven rattan helmet enough to graze his forehead, leaving a shallow cut.


    "Damn it! Such fierce archery... these Guajili Canine Descendants... are actually somewhat formidable!"


    The Samurai Camp Chief muttered under his breath, once again shielding himself with his shield. Behind him, the beat of the war drums continued incessantly, the calls growing louder. Encouraged by the War Priests, the vanguard barbarians prayed loudly to the Chief Divine, ready to launch a desperate charge at any moment. Arrows flew back and forth between the two sides¡¯ archers, and the onslaught drew forth sprays of blood¡ªsoon, a hundred lay dead.


    The bodies of the warriors collapsed on the ground, draining away the warmth of life. Lifeblood flowed at the mouth of the valley, trickling into the valley¡¯s streams, washing out a faint crimson. Beside the stream, the blood-drenched cactus flowers bloomed more brilliantly, as if heralding impending death.

 Chapter 607 - 303: The First Battle in the Valley (Part 2)

    The arrows whistled back and forth, and intense shouting reverberated through the valley. The sun was slightly slanted to the west, casting thick shadows over the mountain range, and a faint smell of blood wafted through the breeze.


    Black Wolf Torc, carrying the battle flag, stood at the mouth of the valley several miles away. He watched the exchange of fire, his expression growing colder by the moment. The Canine Descendants in the valley were skilled in archery and held both the camp and the terrain. The advantage of the legion archers¡¯ longbows was negated, and they were slowly losing ground in the exchange of fire. After observing for a while, Black Wolf¡¯s brows arched, and he once again waved the command flag.


    "Boom, boom, boom!"


    The drumbeats suddenly quickened, accompanied by the shrill sound of flutes. Five hundred vanguard barbarians clad in cotton armor had been awaiting their turn. They let out a collective roar, praising the name of the Chief Divine. Then, with rattan shields in one hand and copper spears in the other, they charged toward the camp at the valley entrance from nearly a hundred paces away.


    Although the campsite at the valley entrance was elevated, it was not particularly steep, in fact, it was just a slope. The vanguard barbarians strode quickly, soon breaking through the lax archer line and drawing within fifty paces before rapidly surging up the slope.


    "Toot, toot! Fire at will!"


    Watching the barbarians rush by, Yolike blew the bone whistle urgently once again.


    Feathered arrows "whizzed" and instantly soared like birds, raining down in swathes upon the stronghold. The legion archers were accelerating their shooting, suppressing the Canine Descendants on the ramparts. The Canine Warriors howled, but the storm of arrows significantly lessened.


    Yolike moved his shield aside and glanced carefully at the opposition, his pupils suddenly constricting. He saw many conspicuous red-haired warriors, bows drawn but not releasing, silently staring at the charging barbarians as though patiently waiting for prey.


    Outside the valley, Torc wore a smile on his face. He watched as the vanguard barbarians almost entirely unscathed, successfully reached within twenty paces of the camp, close to scaling the ramparts.


    "Drip, drip, swish!"


    Black Wolf¡¯s smile instantly stiffened. A harsh bone whistle blew in a flash, followed by the mournful sound of arrows slicing through the air. Then, a mass of charging barbarians fell hard, their death cries peaking in an instant. From merely twenty paces away, the red-haired warriors accurately avoided the cotton armor, striking the barbarians in the head, face, and neck, and more than thirty brave vanguards fell to the ground.


    After that, hundreds of Canine Warriors roared fiercely, gripping stone spears and hammers, and they stormed out of the rudimentary gates to clash with the vanguard barbarians. A Canine Warrior swung his stone hammers with both hands, all his might aimed at a young barbarian¡¯s shield, hardly defending at all. The barbarian smirked, blocking with his shield, then thrust his copper spear deeply into the Canine Warrior¡¯s abdomen.


    Yet, the dying Canine Warrior, like a wild beast, lunged forward instead of retreating, bellowing as he grabbed onto the long spear that pierced his abdomen, seizing the arms behind it. Another Canine Warrior immediately closed in, swinging his stone hammer and smashing it down onto the barbarian¡¯s shoulder. The barbarian screamed, curling up like a shrimp, only to be met with another hammer blow to the head, silencing his cry on the spot.


    Seeing this brutal scene, the middle-aged barbarian beside him, eyes reddened, lunged with his copper spear, stabbing the exhausted Canine Warrior wielding the stone hammer to death. Another Canine Warrior charged, holding up his stone spear. The middle-aged barbarian agilely stepped back, lifted his shield to block, and counter-thrust with his long spear, killing the Canine Warrior!


    The vanguard barbarians were after all picked elites. Skilled in martial arts, they were swift and fierce. Coupled with superior equipment, they quickly gained the absolute upper hand in close combat.


    However, the red-haired warriors atop the ramparts showed no mercy, disregarding the possibility of friendly fire, shooting arrows ruthlessly down the slope. These lethal hunters narrowed their eyes and continuously released piercing bone arrows. At such close range, they struck the barbarians¡¯ vital spots. The barbarians growled and fell unexpectedly, dying together with the Canine Descendants, their bodies piling on top of each other.


    The urgent drumbeat incessantly urged the offensive, and the slaughter in front of the valley encampment grew increasingly cruel. Yolike, with his archers, continued advancing, drawing closer for a direct shoot-out with the hunters on the ramparts, and casualties on both sides rapidly escalated. Arrows ceaselessly reaped lives and also drained the morale and strength of both sides.


    Toltec frowned silently, observing two quarters of fighting. The assault in front of the stronghold showed no signs of breakthrough, the opponents pressing against each other, gradually devolving into a drawn-out war of attrition. Although the Canine Descendants suffered nearly six hundred deaths, most were Tribal Warriors and ordinary able-bodied men, with few casualties among the red-haired elites.


    Yet, of the thousand-strong troops deployed, a full three hundred had fallen. Half were militia archers caught in the exchange of fire, the other half vanguard samurai. The light-armored archers were easy to replenish, with their simple equipment, their losses were of little weight. But the vanguard barbarians were selections from the Royal Family¡¯s Imperial Guards, his own direct troops¡ªwho could afford such wastage!


    Thinking of this, Black Wolf clenched his fists and slowly shook his head.


    The unique valley terrain limited the deployment of forces on both sides and confined the scale of the frontline battle. Although the Central Legion had eight thousand men, only about a thousand could be committed to the frontline. It was the same for the Canine Descendants; a great number of warriors gathered behind the camp, awaiting orders. Once the fighting began on a tribal basis, it concealed the Canines¡¯ weakness of lacking coordination and instead played to their advantage in small-scale combat. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We can¡¯t keep fighting like this. Crossbowmen, advance to cover! Sound the conch, a thousand vanguard retreat!"


    Toltec took a deep breath and waved the command flag. Five hundred Temple crossbowmen stepped forward briskly, reaching about a hundred steps from the valley entrance, they spread their legs apart, steadied their stance, and lifted the Stirrup Heavy Crossbows with both hands. Under the puzzled gaze of the Canines, they suddenly all tilted back in unison and fired a fierce volley of crossbow bolts.


    "Whizz whizz whizz!"


    The sharp crossbow bolts rained down from the sky, shooting at the camp¡¯s battlements, and then "thudded" into the wooden stockade. Over a dozen Canine Hunters died on the spot, including a few red-haired warriors. The Canine Descendants on the camp were instantly suppressed, and the retreat conch was immediately sounded. The vanguard barbarians fought as they retreated, calling out to one another, withdrawing beyond the range of the camp¡¯s archers.


    The attacking Canine Warriors still wanted to pursue. However, once they left the narrow valley entrance, and lost the cover of the camp¡¯s Hunters, their exchange ratio with the barbarians greatly increased, and their morale quickly declined. The vanguard barbarians retreated while swinging their weapons, killing another hundred Canines. A retreat horn then sounded from the camp as well.


    The Temple crossbowmen fired ten rounds in a row, then ceased firing. They retreated alongside the archers, with heavy crossbows and longbows mingling together, occasionally clashing and making noise. The crossbow bolts used by the Stirrup Heavy Crossbow needed to withstand several times the pressure and required the use of sturdy hardwood. Compared to the wooden and Luwei reeds used in ordinary bows and arrows, the crossbow bolts were more expensive to make and required more effort.


    In this northern expedition, facing Canine Descendants who were either in light armor or unarmored, the power of the longbow was sufficient. For these reasons, the allied forces carried a very limited supply of crossbow bolts and couldn¡¯t shoot indiscriminately.


    "Red Fox Valley, Red Cat Tribe..."


    Toltec watched the feline flag on the camp, deep in thought. There were tens of thousands of Canine Descendants in the valley, now occupying the terrain and holding out, which was somewhat difficult to deal with. Black Wolf frowned in thought for a moment and looked again at Mespa by his side.


    "Mespa, call over the nobility you mentioned before, I want to enquire in detail!"


    Mespa then summoned a few nobles who had fled from the valley, who thoroughly recounted the events of that day, the skirmish among the Canines, and the surrounding terrain.


    After listening for a moment, a light sparked in Black Wolf¡¯s eyes. He grabbed the middle-aged Otomi noble in front of him.


    "Ico, you just said, the mountain ranges to the south and north of the valley have narrow paths that can accommodate hundreds of warriors?"


    "Yes, Commander Black Wolf. Although the southern and northern mountain ranges are steep, pathways through them have been explored. However, the northern range is relatively gentle and easier to traverse than the south. Pamus scouts often use the mountain paths to scout the valley. On the day of the incident, hundreds of red-haired warriors from the Guajili infiltrated through the northern mountain path and caused chaos in the valley. For the past half month, scouts from both sides have frequently skirmished in the mountains. To accomplish your reconnaissance mission, I have lost several elite family warriors!"


    The middle-aged noble Ico looked somewhat distressed. Toltec pondered for a moment, then grabbed Ico¡¯s arm and asked a question that alarmed him even more.


    "Ico, you were born an Otomi noble of the valley, more familiar with this place than anyone. The Guajili Canine Descendants have occupied your fief, slaughtered your people ¨C you have a score to settle with them! Do you not wish for revenge?..."


    Black Wolf paused, peering intently into Ico¡¯s eyes, and spoke in a deep voice.


    "I will give you five hundred Pamus warriors familiar with the terrain! If you infiltrate through the mountain trails and coordinate with the main force, you can attack the camp at the valley mouth from behind under the cover of night. Though dangerous, if successful, it will be a great accomplishment! I will personally report your name to His Highness! What do you say, do you dare to do it?!"

 Chapter 608 - 304 Night Raid

    The sunlight illuminated the vibrant cactus flowers, and a gentle breeze stirred the streams in the valley. The weather in September remained warm. On hearing the words of the Black Wolf Chieftain, Ico¡¯s forehead broke out in fine beads of sweat. He stammered as he spoke.


    "Ah, Black Wolf Chieftain... although we Pamus Samurai are familiar with the terrain, we are not adept at night battles..."


    "No need for a night battle. You will secretly enter through the mountains at night, and attack the encampment in the valley at dawn. The Vanguard elites will attack the mouth of the mountain in the early morning, joining you in a pincer movement to utterly break these Canine Descendants!"


    "Ah, my lord, you have never been to the interior of the valley. The valley is long and narrow, twenty to thirty miles from east to west, and there are multiple camps on both sides. There¡¯s another camp blocking the valley¡¯s path two miles behind the forward camp at this entrance. Only by breaking through both camps can we enter the wider hinterland..." Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh? There are two camps?"


    Upon hearing this, Toltec was taken aback and asked urgently.


    "What is the terrain of the rear camp like?"


    "The rear camp is not much different from the front camp, only slightly wider. Once the rear camp is taken, the army will face no more obstructions."


    Ico replied with his head bowed. Black Wolf thought for a moment, then patted Ico¡¯s shoulder.


    "Two camps, if we attack from the front, who knows how long it will take. To defeat the enemy quickly, we must achieve the element of surprise! Ico, summon your courage and resolve, and be a man like the Jaguar!"


    "Ah, Chieftain, infiltrating the valley, there is always the risk of being discovered by the Canine Descendants. The narrow mountain paths also prevent a quick retreat; it¡¯s truly too dangerous... General Mespa, what do you think..."


    Ico¡¯s body trembled slightly, turning to Mespa as if seeking aid. The other coughed softly.


    "Black Wolf Chieftain, we can discuss the attack slowly..."


    "His Highness will arrive in five days! If we, with an army in hand, make no progress and are blocked by these rat-like Canine Descendants, how shall we explain to His Highness?!"


    Toltec glared furiously at Mespa.


    "General Mespa, you are also familiar with the terrain. Why not you personally lead the troops and sneak into the valley?"


    "Uh..."


    Mespa suddenly fell silent. This northern expedition was to reclaim his ancestral fief. He had led his troops northward, battling wherever possible. But to personally lead a nearly suicidal stealth attack was asking too much... Let Ico go instead.


    "Ah, General Mespa, Black Wolf Chieftain..."


    "You timorous fish-rat! The valley is your fief! The Canine Descendants are your enemies! Show some warrior¡¯s honor!"


    Toltec stared intently into Ico¡¯s eyes, like a fierce beast.


    "Ico, I¡¯m giving you five hundred Pamus Samurai. Infiltrate the valley tonight, attack from inside and outside at dawn. This is a military order!"


    There was no backing out of battle, the strike was set. The middle-aged nobleman Ico trembled for a moment before mustering some valor, bowing his head to receive the order.


    "I will obey your orders, Chieftain!"


    The slanting sun slowly set, and the legions outside the valley withdrew to their camp. A cheer erupted from the camp of the Canine Descendants, while the Pamus Samurai were visibly upset, but the Mexica Samurai remained calm and composed. They had campaigned for many years, always victorious, and today¡¯s sortie was merely a probe; the fiercer assault was yet to come.


    Upon returning to the main camp, Toltec first called upon five hundred Pamus Samurai. Black Wolf personally inspired their morale, then entrusted them to the Nobility Ico to feast well. Afterward, he ordered the Temple Crossbowmen and the Vanguard to rest and build up their energy, and had his men check the Clay Tribulus that had accompanied the army, carefully inspecting each one to prepare for tomorrow¡¯s strike.


    Darkness came swiftly, and the earth grew quiet. Ico led five hundred Pamus Samurai, who knew the terrain well, to silently leave the rear camp and blend into the deep night. Without lighting conspicuous torches, they used their memory of the landscape to grope their way into the mountains. For a nighttime attack in the mountains, knowledge of the paths was crucial, hence the choice of Pamus Samurai.


    The faint moonlight fell on the land as a large mass of moving shadows entered the mountains, disappearing into the mountain shadows, becoming indistinguishable. Only the Canine Descendants¡¯ Scouts lit sporadic bonfires in the mountains, like flowers of the night.


    Ico carefully avoided the light wherever possible, and if it couldn¡¯t be avoided, he dispatched elite squads to advance. Sharp War Clubs swung, and swift Feathered Arrows were shot. Dots of fresh blood blossomed in the mountains, with faint clamor, but the sound did not carry far.


    Two hours later, Ico took a deep breath. The perilous and narrow mountain path was behind them, and the five hundred warriors had ascended to a mid-mountain ridge. Now they would turn along the ridge towards the East to reach the rear of the valley camp. He stood on the ridge and looked northward, only to see dense bonfires in the Canine Descendants¡¯ camp and shadows of vast cornfields by the stream. Each bonfire represented hundreds of gathered Canine Descendants. Ico counted the bonfires, shuddering involuntarily. He then looked towards the center of the Valley City-State, where the tall stone Temple was ablaze with lights, seeming still busy inside. Ico prayed briefly to the Primordial God for ancestral protection before turning eastward. The warriors behind him lowered their voices to pass along the order to turn.


    The valley stretched for dozens of miles, and so did the Mountains. On a ridge several miles away, two red-haired warriors sat cross-legged on a mountaintop, gazing at the moonlight gracing the Earth with Divinity.


    "Amoxtli, you invited me out for a drink so late, but didn¡¯t even bring a piece of groundhog meat?"


    Ivican held a small leather water bottle, carefully sipping Rice Wine. For the wilderness Canine Descendants, whether it be Tequila, honey liquor, or fruit wine, all were their favorites, although rarely enjoyed.


    "Give it a rest, Ivican. This Tequila is a treasure of our Tribe; I had to coax it out of Chieftain Kakalo... alright, here, for you, some fine dried venison."


    Amoxtli rummaged in his shirt for a while, finally producing a bundle of dried venison wrapped in leaves, handing it over to Ivican reluctantly.


    "All yours, eat up!"


    "Ow! Meat and drink, what¡¯s the occasion today? An ancestral Sacrificial Rite? Or, the Blessing Day of the Moon God? No, it¡¯s still early. Amoxtli, could it be that your Tribe¡¯s Chieftain is finally on his deathbed, so he handed you his position and the tribal storehouse?"


    Having caught the scent, Ivican could tell it was indeed fine venison. He looked at his friend with surprise and curiosity. On the wilderness, venison was truly precious and not eaten on just any ordinary day.


    "What nonsense! Although Chief Kakalo isn¡¯t well, it¡¯s still not a problem for him to live a few more years."


    Amoxtli punched Ivican, making him reel back. He then steadied his friend and said in a low voice,


    "Haven¡¯t seen you for a few days, right? Got some good stuff to enjoy a meal. The great army of the Cactus Tribe has arrived at the mouth of the valley. The three Great Tribes have ordered the gathering of the warriors from various Tribes; who knows when we will be pushed to the front... So, how was the battle at the valley mouth today? I heard the Red Cat Tribe won and repelled the Cactus Tribe¡¯s attack?"


    "Pah! Win the battle? What a joke."


    Ivican spat, bit hard into the venison, and washed it down with more Rice Wine.


    "The Red Cat Tribe lost seven hundred warriors, and the red-haired lost five or six. The other side only left behind over three hundred men, and that was with the protection of the camp and the advantage of terrain! Tonight, Chief Mizili kept complaining in front of the Chieftain. Now the warriors of the Red Frog Tribe have gathered at the rear camp, and depending on the situation tomorrow, they might be sent to the front. Each of the ordinary Tribes has to send their red-haired warriors to the frontline, and other Tribal Warriors take turns to follow."


    "Ah! How did the Red Crow Tribe arrange this? We have to guard the northwest valley mouth, don¡¯t we?"


    "They¡¯ll probably draw some warriors. The Red Crow¡¯s allied Tribes always have to send troops to the East."


    Upon consideration, Ivican¡¯s ears twitched suddenly.


    "Huh, did I hear something?"

 Chapter 609 - Three Hundred and Five: Night Talk and Discovery

    The night deepened, and faint sounds echoed intermittently between the mountains, resembling the rustling of a long wind through the forest.


    Amoxtli was urgent, the survival of his tribe at stake, he had to get answers. He grabbed Ivican¡¯s arm firmly.


    "Don¡¯t change the subject! Ivican, whatever arrangements the Red Fox Chieftain has made, he¡¯ll surely inform you red-haired warriors. We have been friends for so many years, you must tell me!"


    "Ah! Amoxtli... not all red-haired warriors know the chieftain¡¯s plans..."


    Ivican showed a troubled expression, stammering reluctantly.


    "There are indeed other arrangements! What are they exactly? Is the Red Fox Tribe going to withdraw?"


    Amoxtli¡¯s expression shifted, but he did not relent, continually pressing his friend.


    "Ah! I promised the chieftain I wouldn¡¯t say..."


    "Ivican, are you going to just stand by and watch me and Alan go get killed? Tell me, I promise I won¡¯t tell anyone!"


    "It won¡¯t happen! All elite red-haired warriors from the tribes will be conscripted and taken away... Ah! Okay, don¡¯t pull at my neckline, I¡¯ll tell you..."


    Ivican sighed helplessly and downed his rice wine in one gulp. This meal was truly not worth it. Afterwards, the young red-haired warrior wiped his mouth and looked at his friend.


    "During the summit of the three tribes, Chief Otuwa personally promised that after the Red Frog Tribe has held the front for a few days, the Red Fox Tribe will take over. The three major tribes together with their vassals, taking turns at the front of the valley mouth to fight, no one loses out, those replacing go to the rear camp to guard it."


    "Tomorrow there will likely be a unified command issued, to rally all ordinary tribe¡¯s red-haired warriors, under the command of the three major tribes to resist the brutal Cactus Tribe; half of other tribal warriors will be drawn to the front line initially, and if the battle intensifies, more will be drawn... And as compensation, men of fighting age from the ordinary tribes can periodically receive a share of food supply from the hands of the three major tribes."


    "Ah! These orders..."


    Upon hearing this, Amoxtli clenched his fists, his eyes widening. Taking advantage of the pressing force of the Cactus Tribe, the three major Guajili Tribes were beginning to integrate the vassal tribes under their control, gradually seizing the ordinary tribe¡¯s warriors and able-bodied men. Such conscription was nearly equivalent to absorption, completely contrary to the traditions of the wilderness. However, given the current situation, the ordinary tribes had no way to refuse.


    Amoxtli pondered hard over the situation. His eyes showed worry and confusion. The senior red-haired warrior began to mutter, gradually raising his voice.


    "We avoided the cold snap, emerged from the wilderness of Kolawea less than a year ago, yet everything seems to have changed! Along the way, all we faced were hunger and skirmishes, countless ordinary tribes vanished, their red flags falling into the mud. The traditions of the wilderness are no longer upheld; instead, the large tribes grow stronger and more prosperous! You¡¯ve absorbed more and more able-bodied men, seized more and more warriors. You¡¯ve occupied vast fertile lands never seen before, even owning slaves from the Otomi and their city-states! Now, you even want to absorb us completely!"


    "Ah! Amoxtli, what are you rambling about?! Along our journey, we¡¯ve faced cold, hunger, thirst, troublesome Otomi people, fierce Aztec people... To overcome these challenges, we could only band together for warmth! This is the choice of the wilderness!"


    "The choice of the wilderness... is the cactus in the rainy season, indifferent to the drought¡¯s perseverance, merely seeking the blossoms of outcome. All tribes are children of the wilderness, and they too will see the day their flowers bloom! As long as they can catch the rainwater in time..."


    The old chieftain¡¯s teachings emerged in Amoxtli¡¯s mind. His eyes brightened, as if flames were ignited, seeing the distant flickering light. After a while, as if nothing had changed, he grabbed Ivican once again.


    "Ivican, you haven¡¯t finished! These orders will soon be known by everyone. What is it that the Red Fox Chieftain told you not to talk about?"


    "Ah!... Amoxtli, you mustn¡¯t tell anyone!"


    Ivican clenched the fist-sized piece of venison in his hand, feeling its immense weight. He gritted his teeth and glared at his friend¡¯s face.


    "Chief Otuwa ordered us to be prepared! Once the main force of the Red Frog Tribe advances to the front line and clears the Northwestern valley passage they occupy, there will be no obstacles preventing the Red Fox Tribe from leaving at any time! The reinforcements from the Cactus Tribe are on their way north, we must leave the dangerous valley before they block the Northwestern passage. The Red Fox Chieftain has already chosen a new campsite approximately two hundred li to the northwest in the valley, a hill with water resources!"


    "What? So the chieftain guessed right! Ivican, then what about the tens of thousands from the Canine Descendants Tribes here?"


    Amoxtli was shocked, staring back in response.


    "Canine Descendants Tribes... Over these few days, the Red Fox Tribe will massively conscript the warriors from the vassal tribes. A portion of ordinary warriors will be sent to the rear camp to ease the mind of the Red Frog Chieftain. As for the elite red-haired and veteran warriors, they will be swept away along with the tribe!"


    "Ah! The chieftain said, the tribe¡¯s food can only support eight thousand able-bodied men, so all the elderly, women, and children are unwanted, and any men who cannot fight as well. The chieftain also said the Aztec people won¡¯t stay in the Northern Land for too long; as long as we have eight thousand warriors, everyone will continue heading south next year, to raid the Otomi people!"


    When he had finished, Ivican grabbed his friend¡¯s arm back, his expression sincere.


    "Amoxtli, I¡¯ve told you all the chieftain¡¯s plans! Come on, you hurry back, dye Alan¡¯s hair red, and take her with you to join the conscription of the Red Fox Tribe! In this cruel, chaotic Northern wilderness, only the powerful tribes can survive and control everything! Your small broken tribe won¡¯t last much longer... Ah! Amoxtli, with your wisdom and martial arts, as long as you join the Red Fox Tribe, you can definitely become a captain of a hundred men!"


    Upon hearing this, Amoxtli¡¯s mind was in turmoil. He looked into his friend¡¯s eyes, unsure of what to say. But the thought of leaving the Red Crow Tribe, which had raised him like a son, and abandoning the elderly chiefather who had treated him as his own child was utterly unbearable. While he hesitated, his ears suddenly twitched slightly.


    "Ivican, I think I heard something too! Ah, it sounds like the rustling of leaves, and it¡¯s getting closer...this is...!"


    The two seasoned scouts exchanged looks, both seeing disbelief in each other¡¯s eyes. They immediately crouched down and moved slowly toward the source of the sound along the shadows of the ridge.


    In the deep darkness of the night, a large shadow moved toward the East, accompanied occasionally by the sound of stepping on branches. The faint moonlight fell on the edge of the moving shadow, illuminating many indistinct figures and flashes of gray-blue.


    "Awo! Gray-blue, walking at night without torches, this is..."


    Ivican was about to exclaim when Amoxtli suddenly covered his mouth. The two red-haired warriors quietly approached and then silently receded. The footsteps faded, followed by Amoxtli¡¯s voice next to his ear.


    "Ivican, it¡¯s the Otomi dogs! If they can walk the mountain roads at night, it must be the local Pamus warriors! Judging by their marching direction, they¡¯re heading toward the valley camp in the East... You must hurry back and report to the Red Fox chieftain. I¡¯ll follow them from here!"


    "Yes, they¡¯re moving slowly, it¡¯ll be a while before they reach the valley mouth. Fighting in the dark is utterly chaotic, and the Cactus Tribe outside the valley can hardly respond. I reckon they¡¯ll wait until dawn to launch the raid! After you see the chieftain, have someone notify the camps on the east to prepare their defenses. Then, bring the warriors of the Red Fox Tribe over, and when the day breaks, we¡¯ll jointly strike at the Otomi!"


    "Alright, Ivican, you really think things through; I¡¯ll do as you said! Awo! I¡¯ll tell the chieftain that this was all your idea. Let¡¯s share the credit for this victory!"


    Ivican, excited like a hunting hound, nodded vigorously. He quickly turned and left, still carrying the deer meat Amoxtli had given him.


    "Awo! This meal sure was worth it!"


    The moon waned and stars scattered, and the profound darkness shrouded everything. The mountains were veiled in peaceful night colors, and in the valley, only the flickering flames were vaguely visible. Soon, the cold crescent moon set in the west, and a faint morning light began shining in the east. Dawn was about to break, turning the blood from darkness to bright red.


    Nobility Ico gazed at the faint light in the east, feeling hopeful for victory. He watched the familiar valley. Behind the valley gates, the camp was built of wood and stone, surrounded by a crude fence. The watchtower¡¯s flag of the Red Frog fluttered unattended, seemingly unguarded.


    Seeing this, a rare surge of courage bubbled in Ico¡¯s chest. He shouted loudly,


    "Brave Pamus warriors! Charge, kill the despicable Canine dogs, and reclaim our lands!"


    "Roar! Kill the Canines!"


    The remaining four hundred-plus Pamus warriors roared in unison. Though they were familiar with the mountain paths, they had lost dozens along the way. Yet at that moment, victory seemed tantalizingly close! Ico was the first to raise his War Club, charging toward the camp, closely followed by the four hundred warriors.


    "Whistle!...Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!" S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Amid a sudden and mournful bone horn, hundreds of red-haired warriors suddenly emerged from various parts of the camp and drew their Hunting Bows, releasing sharp Bone Arrows at the charging Otomi Warriors!


    "Ah! Ah..."


    Ico let out a terrible scream. A Bone Arrow hit him in a vital spot on his face, followed by a second and then a third. The middle-aged nobility, propelled by inertia, charged forward another two steps before toppling into the soil of his homeland. His screams abruptly ended, leaving no last words.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    A second wave of arrows flew at them head-on, several Pamus warriors screamed as they fell, while the remaining warriors plunged into chaos. Hundreds of ordinary Tribal Warriors, wielding Stone Hammers and Stone Spears, surged from deeper within the camp. Meanwhile, a flag of the Red Fox suddenly erected in the woods at the rear, and thousands of ambushing Canine Warriors charged from all sides!


    Keka, wearing a Wolf Robe, stood at the highest point of the camp. He watched the scene unfold before him, grinning broadly.


    "Haha! It seems the battle-hardened Cactus Tribe is just as vulnerable!"


    Miles away, Black Wolf Torc, clad in Copper Armor, lowered his gaze, waiting personally at the mouth of the valley. Behind him, two thousand assault troops were ready to move. Suddenly, from the valley ahead, the bone horn of the Guajili sounded, and intense sounds of battle drifted over!


    Black Wolf¡¯s eyes snapped open, revealing a fierce, wild beast-like gaze. He then swung his command flag and roared forcefully.


    "Temple Crossbowmen, close to within a hundred steps, fire continuously, suppress the camp! Vanguard throwing unit, groups of a hundred, ignite the Divine Power Globes a hundred steps away and launch them in a charge!"


    "Roar, Vanguard, attack! If you don¡¯t seize the Canine camp, then die trying!"

 Chapter 610 - 306 Battle at the Valley Mouth Part I

    The morning sun rose from the horizon, illuminating the narrow valley, and dispelling the tranquility of the night. The fierce war drums resounded through the heavens, and carrion-eating American eagles gathered at the sound, a prelude to a feast¡¯s beginning.


    "Boom, boom, boom!"


    A thousand Temple Crossbowmen clad in cotton armor, armed with heavy crossbows and carrying war clubs made of obsidian on their backs, belonged to the Imperial Guard Legion and were selected from the ranks of the Temple Guards. They were generally strong, skilled in martial arts, and proficient in combat at any range. The crossbowmen quickly entered the valley path, and soon they were a hundred steps from the encampment, ready to shoot.


    "Ah!... Ah!..."


    The leading dozen Temple Warriors took out their death whistles resembling skulls and blew into them with force. The deathly wails of the dying instantly rose at the entrance of the camp within the valley and carried far on the wind. The defending force of Canine Warriors at the camp had grown to two thousand. Hearing the terrifying whistle for the first time, many warriors showed signs of shock and fear on their faces.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    The sharp arrows of the crossbows attacked amidst the wails, bringing with them the actual screams of the dying! More than a dozen Tribal Warriors were pierced by the crossbow bolts, pinned to the earth or wooden walls, unable to die quickly, only able to let out their desperate howls.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    The second volley of crossbow bolts arrived instantly, striking the wooden fortress of the forward camp with a "thwack, thwack" sound. Hundreds of red-haired warriors clenched their teeth, kept low, and gripped their Hunting Bows, enduring the arrow rain with all their might. At this distance, the Hunting Bows commonly used by the Guajili Canine Descendants couldn¡¯t harm the crossbowmen protected by cotton armor.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    The third volley of arrows slightly extended towards the back, killing another dozen warriors. The impulsive Canine Descendants dodged all over the place while angrily calling out. There was some commotion in the camp.


    A red-haired camp commander bent over, surveyed the situation inside the camp with concern. He then stood up and hurried toward the center where the Red Cat flag stood.


    "The Cactus Tribe¡¯s crossbows have too far a range; we can¡¯t shoot them! Taking hits like this one way, the morale of our warriors is being shot to pieces. Chieftain, let me take five hundred warriors and charge at their archers!"


    The red-haired camp commander shouted loudly, his eyes brimming with a beast-like desire for battle.


    Mizili raised his shield, standing under the Red Cat flag. As the main force of the warriors was guarding this spot, he naturally had to command the battle in person. The Chieftain of the Red Cat first looked at the equipment of the crossbowmen, then at the vanguard barbarians who followed. He thought for a moment and then bit his teeth hard.


    "Charge my ass! Pull back half of the Tribal Warriors into the camp to avoid the arrow storm, and strike when the enemy charges up!"


    Soon, the Chieftain dispatched an envoy, ordering a tightening of the defense. Half of the Tribal Warriors cried out and disorderedly fell back to the rear. Only the elite red-haired warriors still held their Hunting Bows, always ready to shoot near the camp walls.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    Seeing the enemy¡¯s movements, the crossbowmen¡¯s camp commander waved his little flag. The Temple Crossbowmen advanced twenty steps forward, and the fourth volley of crossbow bolts shot straight toward the camp¡¯s central flag.


    The howling arrow rain came head-on, bringing with it the wind of death! Several of the Chieftain¡¯s trusted aides screamed as they fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. Mizili¡¯s shield was struck repeatedly. He bent over, using the force of the impact to quickly retreat, breaking into a cold sweat.


    "Damn! The Aztecs¡¯ crossbows have such powerful force!"


    Mizili wiped the sweat from his forehead. He looked at the tribe¡¯s flag, now shot through with many arrow holes. He also saw his fallen and wounded trusted aides, and a sudden rush of anger rose in his chest.


    "I will send out warriors to tear these crossbowmen to shreds! Someone..."


    "Praise Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli! He has bestowed upon us the power to destroy! We shall spread His glory!" S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A wave of frenzied shouts suddenly came like thunder, echoing through the narrow valley, like the collective call of a pack of beasts. Mizili was stunned for a moment, turning towards the source of the noise.


    He saw hundreds of barbarians in cotton armor standing spread out in several rows, with wooden boxes nearby and dozens of leaders holding torches. They first raised their hands high and prayed to the sky. Then, the front-row barbarians, each holding a clay ball the size of a human head, paused briefly in front of the torches before charging towards the camp with frenzied shouts.


    "To sacrifice for the divine!"


    "Eh, what¡¯s this?"


    Mizili looked puzzled, watching the loosely arranged barbarians charge. Just this few men, were they coming to their deaths?


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    Another barrage of crossbow bolts whizzed through the air, constantly suppressing the red-haired hunters on the low fortress wall. The barbarians pressed closer under the cover of the bolts, quickly closing to within forty paces.


    "Swoosh swoosh swoosh!"


    The red-haired warriors began to pop their heads out, shooting fiercely at the barbarian soldiers. More than twenty barbarians in the front line fell instantly, and the smoking spheres they held tumbled down the slope. However, their formation was loose enough, and the remaining barbarians, still fervently clutching the spheres, charged forward.


    "Whizz whizz whizz!"


    The crossbowmen accelerated their rate of fire. A fierce hail of arrows rained down on the fortress wall! Nearly ten red-haired warriors who had exposed themselves were struck by arrows and fell, making Mizili wince in pain.


    "Ah, despicable Aztec people, to actually use small units to deceive our shooters!"


    The crossbow bolts kept the battlements suppressed, and the remaining half of the barbarians finally made it up the slope to the edge of the fortress wall. The low wall was only about chest height, and behind it was a large group of red-haired hunters firing away. With a fierce roar, the barbarians hurled the spheres imbued with divine power at the defending army.


    "Praise the Chief Divine, Divine Might descends!"


    "Hm?"


    At the edge of the fortress wall, the red-haired captain¡¯s eyes sparked with ferocity. First, he shot an arrow with his hand, aiming for the enemy¡¯s eyes and killing a barbarian who was within arm¡¯s reach. Then, puzzled, he looked down at the smoking clay sphere at his feet.


    "What is this? A clay jar? And it¡¯s smoking?"


    The red-haired captain bent down and touched the sharp-angled surface of the sphere. Then, squinting his eyes, he brought his head close to the small smoking opening...


    "Boom!"


    The clay tribulus, weighing several pounds, suddenly exploded with a thunderous roar! The red-haired captain¡¯s spine bent like a small tree in a fierce wind, his body burst open, and flames erupted instantaneously. Countless sharp shards of clay burst forth, shredding the residual corpses in front into sieves.


    "Boom, boom, boom!"


    Dozens of clay tribulus spheres exploded in succession, sending out large plumes of flame. In an instant, billowing smoke rose! More than two hundred Canine Warriors screamed as they fell to the ground, rolling into a tangled mess. Even more tribal warriors were stunned by the blasts, descending into chaos. They ran about, howling meaninglessly, calling out the names of ancestors and priests.


    Mizili¡¯s eyes reddened in an instant. But in a mere moment, he saw fifty to sixty elite red-haired warriors fall victim to the enemy¡¯s terrifying attack.


    "Witchcraft! Witchcraft! This is the witchcraft of the Aztec people! Trusted aides, charge up there, calm the hearts, and slay the barbarians unleashing the witchcraft!"


    Hundreds of the chieftain¡¯s trusted aides immediately grabbed captured war clubs and rushed toward the fortress wall. They shouted loudly to soothe the chaotic warriors while swinging their weapons, surrounding and killing the remaining barbarians. The first wave of barbarians crossed the wall, roaring fiercely as they fought desperately, causing turmoil within the camp, but their fate was sealed.


    As the smoke billowed and the killing shouts continued, the shooting from both sides weakened considerably. Outside the camp, under the faint hail of arrows, a second group of several hundred barbarians rapidly surged up the slope. They howled the names of their Chief Divine and approached the fortress wall, once again throwing spheres of divine power.


    "The War God descends!"


    The clay spheres rolled and fell among the clusters of Canine Descendants. This time, most of the Canine Warriors dodged in horror, scrambling into a frenzy. But the camp was cramped, and there was no avoiding in many areas.


    "Boom, boom, boom!"


    The clay tribulus exploded once more, and the gunpowder rose, igniting the wooden blocks within the camp, as well as the frantically running Canine Descendants. The shattered clay shards flew in all directions, carrying immense kinetic energy like vicious arrows. The shards cut through the tribal warriors¡¯ cotton cloths, sliced their bodies, and even penetrated their heads and necks. The piercing screams were instantaneous, like torrential rain in the rainy season, scattered everywhere.


    "Roar!"


    The dozens of surviving barbarians threw their last clay tribulus, then drew their copper spears and shields from their backs, leaped over the fortress wall, and frenziedly killed their way into the camp. The chaos in the camp was rapidly spreading, and the hunters¡¯ shooting had almost completely stopped.


    At the mouth of the valley, Black Wolf Torc watched the vanguard forces charge the camp once more and laughed with satisfaction.


    "Good! Very good! The Divine Power Globes may not differentiate between friend and foe, but they truly possess unmatched might, as if Divine Might has descended!"


    After praising, Black Wolf Torc waved the command flag again and bellowed with a fierce shout.


    "The time for battle has come! Vanguard, throw, Temple archers, all charge into close combat! Take the camp for me!"

 Chapter 611 - 307: The Battle at the Valley Entrance (Part 2)

    "Boom... Kill!..."


    The intense explosion sounded like thunder, echoing repeatedly in the narrow valley. Soon, the thunderous noise subsided, but the boiling din of battle was deafening. Countless cries and screams intermingled, piercing the sky. Above the valley, the circling American eagles, startled, took flight into the higher sky. From their vantage point, a swarm of dark green dots surged up the slope like a wolf pack, gradually engulfing the smoking camp.


    "Haha! To kill the Otomi dogs and defeat the Cactus Tribe, you have to rely on my valiant Red Frog Tribe!..."


    More than two li away, Chieftain Keka of the Red Frog Tribe, holding the severed head of the nobility Ico, burst into laughter. In front of him, the ambushing Pamus samurai were first met with a fierce volley of arrows and then attacked from four sides, and by now, they had all fallen.


    A large group of Canine Warriors gleamed greedily as they rifled through the bodies of the fallen warriors. They stripped off the damaged, blood-stained cotton armor and hurriedly donned it on themselves. The pragmatic Canine Descendants from the wilderness understood the simple truth: in the brutality of combat, equipment is life. Suddenly, the rolling thunder boomed from the front of the valley, startling all the Canine Descendants, their faces filled with horror. Some were even so panicked they fell to the ground.


    "... Eh?! What¡¯s happened?"


    Keka¡¯s laughter was abruptly cut off. He turned to face east, only to see thick smoke rising from the forward camp, immediately showing a look of shock and suspicion. The chieftain of the Red Frog Tribe observed for a moment, then ordered the red-haired trusted aide beside him.


    "Take two men with you and go scout the forward camp, find out what¡¯s going on! Tell Mizili that I¡¯ve dealt with things here. Hmm, and ask if he needs support?"


    The red-haired trusted aide immediately set off. He traversed the narrow valley path and, after a short run, arrived at the forward post, two li away.


    The forward post was now a scene of fierce battle. Hundreds of vanguard soldiers ascended the slope, crossed the camp walls, and battled the disordered Canine Warriors in melee combat. A vanguard soldier thrust his Copper Spear, impaling the Canine Descendant in front of him. A young Canine Warrior shouted in panic but hadn¡¯t recovered from the shock of the explosion. The vanguard solider laughed loudly, pulled out his bloodied Copper Spear, and pounced towards the young Canine Warrior again. The young Canine finally wielded his Stone Spear in terror but after only a couple of parries, felt a sharp pain in his waist as the Copper Spear pierced through him.


    Soon, the dark green figures stood firm within the camp. Great numbers of vanguard soldiers poured forth, forcing the defending army backward. A large group of Temple Crossbowmen followed closely behind the close-combat warriors, continuously blowing the chilling Death Whistles, intimidating the chaotic Canine Warriors.


    An elder Temple Crossbowman swung a sharp War Club, demonstrating superb martial arts. With a diagonal step forward and a precise horizontal slash, he spliced open the chest and throat of a Canine Warrior, effortlessly killing the enemy that slipped through. Then, shifting his gaze forward, club in hand, he moved towards a nearby red-haired warrior. However, a crossbow bolt whizzed by and beat him to it, entering the damaged gray-blue cotton armor and pinning the red-haired warrior to the ground.


    The elder Crossbowman glanced back and strode forward, swinging his club downward in a slash! The blade whistried across the throat, splattering bright red, and a red-haired head rolled on the ground, soon picked up and tossed backward. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Take it! Tie it to your waist, your battle merit!"


    The Temple Crossbowmen were selected from the Temple Guards. Molded by years of combat, their battle technique was outstanding, even surpassing the vanguard soldiers in bravery. With cover from close-combat warriors, many Crossbowmen closed in to shoot. The "swoosh, swoosh" of crossbow bolts broke through Wooden Shields, pinning down the Canine Warriors at the back of the camp, preventing them from raising their heads.


    The fierce combat hadn¡¯t lasted even a quarter-hour before the Canine Descendants had completely lost both the advantage of the terrain and the camp. As the red-haired Hunters fell one after another, the Mexica legion¡¯s attack became even more unstoppable! In but a moment, a mob of Vanguard brutes broke through the Canine Descendants¡¯ resistance and reached the center of the camp. They fervently shouted the name of the War God as they snapped the flag of Red Crow in two!


    The heirloom flag fell into the mud and was further trampled by grass sandals, staining it even redder. Witnessing this scene, the common Canine Warriors completely lost their morale and quickly fled towards the rear. It was all too easy to kill the fleeing soldiers, and the camp was narrow and difficult to navigate. The fervent Vanguard brutes spared no mercy with their Copper Spears. The Canine Descendants fell like harvested corn, collapsing in rows, powerless. Bodies fell and stacked upon each other, and blood pooled and streamed until it covered the center of the camp in no time.


    Watching the unfolding battle, Mizili¡¯s eyes nearly split with rage, his heart bleeding. Nearly half of the Red Cat Tribe¡¯s warriors were decimated! He roared angrily at Keka¡¯s trusted aide.


    "Reinforcements? It¡¯s already too late! The Aztec people have witchcraft! The front of the camp can¡¯t hold! Go back quickly and tell Keka to open the camp gates. I¡¯ll gather the warriors from the rear camp and arrive in a moment!"


    The red-haired trusted aide¡¯s complexion changed at once. He bowed his head in a perfunctory salute, took two followers, and dashed out of the back gate of the camp to report to the rear. Mizili discarded his conspicuous Wolf Robe and struggled to gather the remaining warriors. After a quick count, he only came up with the number five hundred, his eyes turning blood-red in an instant.


    However, the frenzied shouts of the Cactus warriors were already near at hand. Vanguard brutes crossed the center of the camp, and the "swoosh" of crossbow bolts shot over, nailing themselves onto the shields of the trusted aides, even piercing right through them. The fleeing Tribal Warriors crowded at the rear of the camp, trying to escape!


    The Red Cat Chieftain reluctantly looked ahead, where hundreds of red-haired warriors were still struggling to resist, yet they simply could not retreat. He finally clenched his teeth fiercely and growled menacingly.


    "We¡¯re leaving!"


    Dozens of the Chieftain¡¯s trusted aides swung their War Clubs, knocking down the deserters blocking the way. Then, five hundred battered Canine Descendants escorted the Chieftain and quickly retreated towards the rear camp.


    "The Chieftain has fled!"


    Desperate shouts echoed throughout the camp. The Canine Descendants turned their heads, instantly losing all will to fight. Under the Camp Commander¡¯s direction, the fastest Vanguard brutes charged, blocking the retreat path, and a large number of Canine Warriors knelt and surrendered, including hundreds of elite red-haired fighters.


    The Vanguard brutes, their eyes bloodshot from killing, still ferociously stabbed at the surrendering enemy, quickly adding another two or three hundred to the dead. The slaughter in the camp only gradually ceased upon the arrival of a new order from the leader of the Black Wolf squad.


    "The Vanguard Army has distinguished itself in defeating the enemy and shall be richly rewarded! Three hundred Vanguards, continue the pursuit of the fleeing enemy, straight to the enemy¡¯s rear camp! The rest of the Vanguard will rest for a quarter hour before escorting the prisoners back. Temple Crossbowmen shall regroup on the spot and wait for further reinforcements to arrive so we can break through the valley entrance in one fell swoop!"


    "Roar! Praise the Chief Divine!"


    Hearing the latest military order, the Vanguards lifted their heads and shouted, letting out victorious roars praising the glory of the Chief Divine. In the sky, the Americas eagles circled closer once again, savoring the scent of blood.


    "Quack-quack!"


    The cries from the sky came, as though the God of Death itself was singing praises.

 Chapter 612 - 308: The Battle at the Valley Entrance (Part 2)

    America Eagles circled and danced above the encampments, gathering in greater numbers. Their small round eyes set in red heads greedily gazed down at the two encampments nestled between the mountains, and at the bipedal tribes in various attires within. Based on their shallow avian experiences, these ground-dwelling bipedal tribes would continue to slaughter each other, contributing more food to them.


    The encampment at the mouth of the valley was built of wood and stone, primarily stone. After the Gunpowder burned out, the flames were quickly extinguished, leaving only trails of smoke drifting with the wind. An inexplicable fragrance wafted through the smoke, along with some low moans. During the Samurai¡¯s search, the moaning gradually ceased. The encampment was nearly empty, yielding virtually no significant spoils other than some fresh pumpkins.


    Thereafter, four hundred Vanguard barbarians escorted an equal number of captives towards the mouth of the valley. Meanwhile, Black Wolf Torc, personally carrying the Commander¡¯s great flag, led one thousand Vanguard barbarians and one thousand Pamus Samurai to the front encampment at the valley¡¯s entrance. The mountain-side encampment was packed to capacity with Samurai clad in Cotton Armor and wielding War Clubs.


    Black Wolf briefly took stock and frowned.


    Although the legion had successfully taken the front encampment at the valley¡¯s mouth using Gunpowder Weapons, the casualties were substantial. Three hundred Vanguard soldiers had fallen, especially the two hundred-man teams that threw Clay Tribulus, nearly annihilating themselves along with the Guajili Canine Descendants. Several Crossbowmen from the Temple had also suffered losses. Roughly two thousand Canine Warriors had been at the front encampment. Over four hundred had escaped in the carnage, more than a thousand died or were mortally wounded, leaving just over four hundred captives as the spoils.


    "Red Cat Tribe, you are stricken from the ranking of great tribes thanks to the battle at the valley entrance! The Canine Descendants should recognize the might of the Kingdom now!"


    Torc stood in the center of the encampment, his foot on the tattered Red Cat banner. He looked toward the rear encampment at the valley entrance, two miles off, where the distant sounds of battle had long ceased. A sinister premonition crept over him.


    "Black Wolf Commander, Ico¡¯s night raid squad must be like porcupines caught amongst wolves, doomed to die. This battle you waged¡­ the casualties are indeed..."


    Mespa was visibly worried. He looked to the west and then back at Black Wolf, his expression tinged with reproach.


    "Hmm?"


    Torc suddenly turned around. His gaze was fierce and icy, making Mespa lower his head. Moments later, Black Wolf clenched his fists silently, then shouted to the Vanguard soldiers.


    "Rest for a quarter! Continue the assault on the rear encampment!"


    Two miles away, the Guajili people¡¯s rear encampment was a scene of bleakness. Hundreds of Red Cat survivors, bloodied and dirtied, flooded into the encampment, causing a sudden drop in the morale of the Defending Army.


    The Red Cat Tribe was a major tribe of six thousand people, boasting two thousand Tribal Warriors and four hundred Red-headed Warriors, ranking second in the valley. However, after this battle, only slightly more than four hundred of its warriors remained, with barely sixty to seventy Red-headed Warriors left, likely insufficient to maintain its previous status, removing it from the list of major tribes.


    Mizili¡¯s face was ashen, his heart in turmoil. He stood dazed under the Red Frog banner at the center of the encampment, facing the wide-eyed Keka.


    "Mizili, don¡¯t be like a scared armadillo! After losing a battle, you hide in a hole, curling up in fear. It¡¯s only a loss of most of your warriors and Red-heads. Your tribe is still intact, absorb a few smaller tribes, recover over a few years, and you¡¯ll be fine! Rest assured, you¡¯re fighting for everyone, Fox and I won¡¯t target your tribe..."


    Keka laid a beefy arm on Mizili¡¯s shoulder, giving it a pat before quickly asking,


    "Red Cat Tribe occupies strategic encampments, how could you collapse so quickly?! What is the Aztec Witchcraft? How did you lose? Speak quickly, the Aztecs will be here soon!"


    Hearing Keka¡¯s promise, Mizili¡¯s eyes briefly brightened. He sighed deeply and started detailing the battle at the front encampment.


    "Keka, you must have also heard the thunder. First, the Aztecs suppressed the encampment with their powerful Crossbows. I withdrew half the ordinary warriors to the rear¡­ Then two squads of Samurai charged, throwing smoky Clay Balls. When the Clay Balls burst, they exploded with roars and flames, shooting countless Clay Arrows. The Red-heads suffered heavy casualties, the wall fell... The warriors panicked, the Cactus Tribe¡¯s soldiers pressed in, while Crossbows suppressed from behind... We couldn¡¯t hold any longer!..."


    "Powerful Crossbows that shoot far, smoky exploding Clay Balls¡­so that¡¯s how it was."


    Keka¡¯s eyes widened in thought, fingers running through his red hair. Then, with a sweeping gesture of his hand,


    "Mizili, take the retreating warriors into the valley first, don¡¯t let them affect the morale in my encampment! As for fighting, it¡¯s up to us, Red Frog Tribe!"


    After finishing, Keka no longer paid attention to Mizili, but hurriedly arranged the encampment defenses.


    "Trusted aide, how much wood and stone do we have left in the encampment?"


    "Not much left. There are a few dozen boards and several piles of stones¡­"


    "Dismantle the sheds at the back of the camp, place the wooden boards at the front of the wall, and stack the stones at the front as well! Let the Hunters hide behind the wood and stone. Also, create a few gaps for easy strikes!"


    Keka barked commands, then asked again,


    "Have the warriors conscripted from nearby common tribes arrived yet?"


    "Chieftain, a thousand warriors and able-bodied men have been summoned, and they are gathered behind the camp. However, the regular tribes are reluctant to hand over their elites; none of them have red hair and will probably be of little use,"


    "No matter, follow me!"


    Keka, slightly overweight but remarkably agile, strode to the rear of the camp where he saw hundreds of tribal warriors forming a large circle around the thousands of able-bodied men mustered. He looked around the circle and climbed a small hill. He vigorously waved his thick arms and roared.


    "Warriors before me, listen! The brutal Cactus Tribe has reached the mouth of the valley, and your tribes are right behind! If the Cactus Tribe breaks through into the valley, all tribes will be sacrificed! Next, you must fight for your tribes and resist the Samurai of the Cactus Tribe!... The sacred wind brings the color red! Those willing to charge out of camp will be given two bags of food each! Who dares not to go?"


    Upon hearing the call to charge from the camp, the tribal able-bodied men looked at each other, but for a moment no one spoke. After a while, a dozen young Canine Warriors stood up and shouted.


    "Our tribe is in the western side of the valley! This is the eastern side, naturally it¡¯s for the eastern tribes to defend! We want to go back and protect our own tribes!"


    A low outcry followed immediately among the crowd. Looking at the dozen who stood up, Keka¡¯s expression remained unchanged. He nodded and then roared again.


    "Anyone else who is unwilling to charge? I give you a quarter of an hour!"


    With a dozen taking the lead, other Canine able-bodied men also became bold. One by one, another seventy to eighty able-bodied men stepped forward, requesting to return to their tribes. Many of the remaining warriors¡¯ expressions flickered, their faces wavered, yet they just watched for the time being.


    "Good! Time is up!"


    Keka¡¯s eyes bulged, and his face showed a murderous intent. He suddenly swung his large hand.


    "Those who stepped out, kill them all!"


    Hundreds of Red Frog warriors dressed in cotton armor, holding war clubs, fiercely stepped forward. They swung their weapons mercilessly, knocking down the nearly hundred able-bodied men who stepped out and then ruthlessly stabbing them to death. Facing the elite of the Red Frog Tribe, the able-bodied men from various tribes had no chance to resist. The dying screams were short and intense, blood flowed immediately, soon staining the soil red.


    "Good! In this cruel wilderness, only warriors bold enough to charge deserve to survive!"


    Keka nodded in satisfaction. He looked at the remaining nine hundred Canine able-bodied men and bellowed.


    "Everyone, smear your faces with the sacred red from the blood on the ground! I swear upon our ancestors, two bags of food each, to be delivered directly to your tribes. Now, each of you take a shield and a Stone Spear, and fight for your tribe!"


    The Canine men, fearful yet compliant, obeyed the order. They smeared their faces with the vivid red mark, like a sacred curse.


    Keka looked around and instructed his red-haired trusted aide by his side.


    "Incorporate them into the assault squad, in groups of two or three hundred. As long as I command from the front, drive them to charge out of the camp! When the next batch of able-bodied men is summoned, do as I just did!"


    "As you command, mighty Chieftain!"


    The trusted aide nodded respectfully. Keka turned and looked at the front camp on the east. The flames in the campfire had died down and the thick smoke was gradually dissipating. Large groups of Aztec Samurai were starting to mobilize within the camp, clearly, a new battle was approaching.


    Keka pondered, then looked towards the back of the camp to the west, at the already cold pile of corpses.


    "Cut off the heads of the Otomi curs! Take their identity-symbolizing vine hats. Then, in front of all the warriors, throw them about two to three hundred paces outside the camp. Hmm, let the Aztec see as well!"


    "Inform the guards, the despicable Cactus Tribe wants to launch a surprise attack, and a thousand have already been killed by us! The Cactus Tribe¡¯s Samurai before us are no match for us either! We, the Red Frog Tribe, are the most warlike tribe on the wilderness!"


    "As you command, wise Chieftain!"


    The aides immediately took their orders. Soon, hundreds of Canine Warriors burst out from the camp. They ran down the long slope and then forcefully hurled the heads they carried. Cheers from the Canine in the camp erupted, significantly boosting morale.


    The Canine¡¯s cheers carried far. Black Wolf Torc raised an eyebrow and squinted towards the rear camp not far away. The sharp-eyed Black Wolf was just as intense, but after watching for just a few moments, he burst into a great rage.


    "Damn Canine, daring to provoke like this! Temple Crossbowmen, fire to suppress; Vanguard, launch immediately!"


    sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 613 - 309: The Battle at the Valley Entrance (Continued 1)

    "Boom! Boom! Boom!"


    The relentless war drums echoed once more. Torc stood on the most conspicuous watchtower, waving the commanding flag forward.


    Upon hearing the command, a thousand Temple crossbowmen, carrying powerful crossbows and bearing war clubs on their backs, streamed out from the camp. Close behind them, a thousand of the elite Vanguard launched their assault. The two thousand Vanguard filled the narrow mountain path, charging ferociously towards the rear camp of the Guajili people and reached within two hundred steps in moments. Hundreds of Pamus Samurai heads were scattered along this mountain path, their eyes wide with terror, faces filled with the reluctance of impending death.


    The expression of the Vanguard warriors was grim and unaffected. The front-row crossbowmen kicked the heads to either side of the road, while the rear crossbowmen paused briefly in wait, their faces unchanging. Some crossbowmen even took out crossbow arrows, ready to shoot at any moment.


    "Indeed they are accustomed to slaughter, those Coyotes!"


    Seeing this scene, Keka¡¯s pupils slightly narrowed, his palms gripping tightly. He carefully observed the huge crossbow, contemplating in his mind. Moments later, the Cactus warriors had already approached within one hundred twenty steps of the camp. The Temple crossbowmen set down their crossbows, began loading and drawing their arrows.


    The Red frog Chieftain hesitated no more and waved his arm fiercely.


    "Newly enlisted Canine Warriors, charge to your death!"


    Hundreds of chieftain¡¯s trusted aides ferociously yelled, driving out nearly three hundred robust Canine Descendants from the camp. These robust men¡¯s faces were painted with sacred red stripes, some clothed in fabric garments, others bare-chested, obviously unarmored light infantry. Holding rudimentary wooden shield in one hand and crude stone spears or stone hammers in the other, they roared loudly, and like wild beasts, pounced towards the Vanguard¡¯s crossbowmen.


    The Temple crossbowmen hesitated for a moment. Under the camp commander¡¯s signal, they simultaneously put down their large crossbows and took up the war clubs from their backs. The two sides quickly engaged in close combat. The leading two hundred Temple crossbowmen swung their war clubs, forming a tight battle formation, easily knocking down the light infantry. The Vanguard warriors, following from behind along the slopes to both sides, ferociously charged up. They lowered their shields and thrust forward with their copper spears, impaling the charging Canine Descendants to the ground. Within moments, the valley was filled with dozens of fresh bodies, the thick warmth making the ground slippery.


    "Ah!... Ah!..."


    Dozens of Temple captains simultaneously blew the terrifying Death Whistle. The morale of the charging Canine Descendants plummeted rapidly, unable to hold up any longer, they turned and ran towards the camp. Seizing the opportunity, the Vanguard camp commander blew the attack signal on the bone horn, and more than three hundred barbaric warriors closely followed the fleeing soldiers to chase and kill them.


    The fleeing Canine Descendants and chasing barbaric warriors both reached the base of the camp, just as they had climbed a slope several tens of meters long, a series of piercing bone whistle blasts suddenly sounded!


    "Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!"


    Hundreds of bone arrows came piercing through the air, indiscriminately knocking down large numbers of sturdy Canine Descendants and Vanguard warriors together. At the top of the slope, over four hundred elite red-haired huntsmen emerged from behind piles of rocks and planks, joined by an equal number of Tribal Huntsmen, they swiftly shot arrows downwards.


    "Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!"


    The howling rain of arrows continued relentlessly, and within moments dozens more fell. Then, hundreds of chieftain¡¯s trusted aides blocked the entrance and exits of the camp, fierce shouts emanating from the camp. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Turn and face the fight! Retreaters die!"


    The fleeing Canine Descendants had no escape and had to halt below the camp. They desperately shouted, lifting their shields in a struggle to defend. From above the camp, arrows poured down, continuously shooting down the entangled sides together.


    "Woo woo!"


    The retreat signal horn soon sounded, and more than two hundred Vanguard warriors quickly retreated. Following that, a low humming noise came from afar, and as the crossbow strings were released, death was collectively unleashed!


    "Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!"


    Nearly a thousand crossbow arrows were fiercely shot towards the camp. Even with the cover of wooden planks and piles of stones, more than twenty Tribal Huntsmen died on the spot. And on the slope below the camp, the remaining hundred or so Canine Descendants also wailed as they fell heavily. To Keka, they seemed like fresh cacti fruit, strung together by the ferocious crossbow arrows, soon splattering juice everywhere.


    "The crossbows of the Aztec, to be so formidable!"


    Seeing the power of the stirrup crossbow, Keka¡¯s eyes widened like those of a frog, completely shocked. He carefully reached out his hand, tugging at an arrow wedged in the wooden plank, but couldn¡¯t pull it out initially.


    The Red frog Chieftain had also once been a red-haired huntsman of the tribe, as familiar with the bow and arrow as his own arm, but now all his understanding was overturned.


    "Arrows that can stick into wood from one hundred twenty steps away?... It¡¯s simply a weapon bestowed by the gods!"


    Keka thought briefly, then took off his chieftain¡¯s Wolf Robe and threw it to a nearby trusted aide.


    "You, put on my Wolf Robe, go there! Yes, stand under the central flag. Remember, set up a ring of shields, crouch behind them, and don¡¯t show your head!"


    "Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!"


    The fierce crossbow arrows attacked once again, the dying wails sounded and then ceased. Keka clung to the camp wall, donning an ordinary warrior¡¯s robe, hiding behind the double-layered wooden planks, constantly keeping an eye on the battlefield situation.


    "Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!... Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!..."


    Another two rounds of one-sided suppressive crossbow arrows. On the rear camp¡¯s wall, it was filled with arrows embedded nearly an inch deep, studded like a hedgehog. On the slope leading to the camp, it was full of sticky fluid and bodies obstructing the charge. The three hundred deployed Canine Descendants were nearly all dead or wounded.


    Keka glanced at the situation on the slope, his heart unmoved. After all, it wasn¡¯t his tribe dying, and even if it could cause a slight hindrance to the enemy¡¯s attack, it would increase the defensive advantage of the camp. He continued to watch the enemy¡¯s military formation.


    The Canine Descendants at the rear camp were noticeably more proactive. To guard against a potential strike from the Canine Warriors, the Vanguard slightly adjusted their offensive formation. The Temple crossbowmen were positioned at the front, spreading out along the mountain road and the slopes on both sides, continuously shooting towards the camp, leaving only a few wide paths for troop movement in the middle.


    Under the cover of nearly a thousand crossbowmen, the vanguard prepared for a desperate charge from the rear formation. Although the clay tribuli were massively powerful, they were very dangerous. Launching such weapons required a long time to prepare and one had to avoid enemy attacks as much as possible.


    Guided by the War Priest, hundreds of gray-blue figures spread out behind. They formed a few loose rows, devoutly praying to the deities. Dozens of leaders holding torches stood at the forefront, their feet positioned on wooden boxes filled with dry straw.


    "Whistle whistle whistle!"


    The fierce rain of arrows came whistling, seemingly endless. Keka ducked his head, patiently observing the prayers on the battlefield, listening to the unclear prayers.


    "...exalted... descend! ...sacrifice... Divine Kingdom! ...Wezi peculiarities!!"


    The Cactus warriors shouted the names of the deities three times, and moments later, the sacred prayers were finally complete. The leaders took out globes from the wooden boxes and, with a gentle shake of the torches, handed them to the vanguard. Then, the warriors who received the globes let out a frenzied shout and violently charged toward the enemy camp through the broad passage made by the crossbowmen!


    "Eh, smoking globes! Are these things really able to kill the red-haired elites?"


    Keka was instantly spirited, albeit puzzled. Nevertheless, he immediately responded, loudly ordering his trusted aides.


    "Newly formed Canine Warriors, charge to the death!"


    The Red Frog trusted aides ferociously swung their weapons, and three hundred armorless Canine Descendants, like wild dogs, were driven out.


    "Whistle whistle whistle!"


    A vast array of crossbow arrows arrived in an instant, bearing the tolling of death, tumbling dozens of Canine Descendants to the ground as they exited the camp. The attacking team instantly became disordered, while the merciless arrows from the camp urged the Canine Descendants to charge to the death. Over two hundred Canine Descendants, clutching primitive stone spears and wooden shields, cried out in fear as they charged down the slope filled with bodies, instantly colliding with hundreds of charging barbarians.


    "What!"


    Seeing this, Black Wolf Torc clenched his fists violently, bellowing in anger.


    "Canine vermin, dare to do this!"


    "Woo woo woo!"


    The Camp Commander urgently blew the conch, and the hundred vanguards of the second squadron immediately stopped their attack. The vanguards of the first squadron were caught in the melee. The discarded Divine Power Globes rolled around, their fizzing sounds drowned out by the shouting but never ceasing.


    "Boom, boom, boom, boom! ..."


    Thunderous explosion sounds finally arrived! Nearly a hundred clay tribuli exploded continuously down the slope of the camp, like thunder in the summer, shaking the entire valley! Great bursts of flames splattered everywhere, bringing the wrath of the deities, igniting the warriors¡¯ hair. Three to four hundred people in the melee simultaneously fell, as smoke and thick fumes rose, even obscuring the camp above.


    "Ah, ah! Smoking globes! Ancestors, this is truly witchcraft, like thunderbolt witchcraft!"


    The rolling thunder shocked the camp, all Canine Descendants went pale with terror. Behind the camp walls, Keka staggered and suddenly fell backward. He was dizzied by the explosions a few dozen steps away, taking a long while to recover. After a moment, the Red Frog Chieftain spoke reverently to himself, his spirit shaken.


    "So it is! To have such powerful witchcraft shot into the camp, no wonder the Red Cat Tribe collapsed so quickly! Ah, the Great Chief of the Cactus Tribe, truly a descendant of the God of Death, possesses such profound mana! To be his enemy..."


    Two miles away, Torc¡¯s expression was as still as water. He squinted, watching as the burning black smoke gradually dissipated, revealing traces of the battlefield. About two dozen barbarians in cotton armor staggered up from the valley filled with bodies. Their cotton armor was full of tiny holes, and their vine hats were also studded with pottery shards. Among the Canine Descendants, a few dozen also survived, desperately fleeing towards the camp.


    "Whistle whistle whistle!"


    The howling crossbow arrows struck again, nailing to the Canine Descendants¡¯ camp and also shooting dead many of the fleeing Canine Descendants. The surviving dozen or so wept and pleaded under the camp walls, but the red-haired huntsmen coldly emerged, raising their Hunting Bows.


    "Do not shoot! Open the camp gates, let the survivors in! I want to see the power of this witchcraft for myself!"


    Keka ordered loudly, and the huntsmen again hid behind their wooden shields. The Chieftain¡¯s trusted aides opened the camp gates, allowing a dozen surviving warriors into the camp. The third assault squadron was already prepared, with the Canine Descendants gathering behind the camp gates, each one looking desolate.


    From a distance, Torc raised an eyebrow. Behind the gates of the rear camp, more figures were faintly visible. Black Wolf hesitated no longer, tightly grasped the conch, and personally raised it to his lips to blow.


    "Woo woo woo!"


    "Black Wolf Captain, are we retreating?"


    Mespa moved closer, quietly asking, his expression carrying a hidden smirk. Torc glanced at him mildly and shook his head.


    "No! We¡¯re just pausing the attack."


    After speaking, Black Wolf tightened the large flag behind him and strode down from the watchtower. A placid voice carried through the wind, but it made Mespa suddenly change color.


    "I will take personal command at the forefront of the vanguard!"

 Chapter 614 - 310: Battle of the Valley Mouth Continued 2

    The sun slowly began to set in the west, and a gentle breeze dispersed the smoke and dust. The mountains cast giant shadows, and in the wind was the sweet, metallic scent of blood. The American eagles, attracted by the enticing aroma, occasionally swooped down, only to be startled into flight by the movements of the samurai. These New World scavengers differed from the Old World vultures; they were more impetuous, possessed sharper beaks, and especially favored the bodies of the freshly slain that had yet to decay.


    Black Wolf Torc arrived at the vanguard¡¯s camp, his expression stern, saying nothing. He simply unfurled his Commander¡¯s flag and thrust it into the formation. The flag slammed "bang" into the soil, standing solidly unmoved. Then, he turned his eyes to the front, where several American eagles were circling the battlefield above the corpses of the vanguard¡¯s barbarians.


    Torc¡¯s expression turned icy as he raised his longbow, squinting his eyes. With a brief aim, he fired an arrow into the sky, and one of the eagles plummeted to the ground. The American eagles in the mountains were startled, all flying away at once, their "squawk squawk" cries echoing through the valleys, haunting as mournful wails.


    "The bird shooter!..."


    A low cheer immediately rose from among his personal army. Black Wolf looked around; the samurai of the vanguard camp remained composed, their fighting spirit high. However, they had been fighting for half the day and were smeared with smoke, showing signs of fatigue.


    "Warriors! The War God watches over you! You are the glorious Royal Family¡¯s Imperial Guards!"


    Torc slowly lowered his longbow, his voice loud and encouraging.


    "...His Highness will arrive soon! The army has been unstoppable on its march northward! We are ferocious Jaguars, are we going to let these mongrel dogs block our path?!"


    "Roar!"


    Upon hearing this, the vanguard samurai¡¯s eyes flashed with killing intent, a low roar emanating from the formation.


    "Imperial Guards! I plant the flag here! I hold the longbow in my hand!"


    Black Wolf grasped the flag with one hand and raised the longbow with the other, bellowing loudly.


    "I will attack with you! I will fall with you!!"


    "Roar! Roar! Kill!"


    Two thousand warriors roared in unison, heads tilted back, their morale surging with a thunderous beastly roar.


    Not far from the encampment, Keka¡¯s expression was solemn. He clutched his Hunting Bow, carefully observing the leader beneath the flag.


    "Damn it! Who is that?!"


    "Chieftain, he must be Black Wolf! The Great Chief of the God of Death¡¯s Great Tribe, commanding the eight thousand warriors of the center!"


    "Oh?!"


    Keka¡¯s eyes widened, a hint of contemplation flickering briefly. However, before he could think for long, the dreadful sound of war drums erupted from below the encampment!


    "Dong dong dong!"


    Led by Black Wolf himself, the two thousand men of the vanguard pressed on in full force! Within moments, the vanguard reached about a hundred paces from the encampment. One thousand Temple Crossbowmen immediately halted, raised their crossbows, and fired vigorously at the encampment.


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"


    The crossbow arrows rained down like a storm, fiercely striking the wooden planks, pinning down the hunters on the walls. Keka ducked and turned to shout at his escorts.


    "Quick! Order the warriors to charge!"


    Soon, three hundred able-bodied Canine Descendants cried out as they charged from the encampment, only to be met with a hail of arrows. Dozens of men were felled by crossbow bolts, their cries turning into wails, and the Canine Descendants¡¯ charge stalled.


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"


    The deadly crossbow arrows came in waves, and the unarmored men, once hit, were doomed to meet their ancestors. Under the cover of crossbow bolts, the vanguard advanced within sixty paces.


    Torc halted his advance and raised his longbow. Squinting his eyes, he took quick aim and released a powerful shot! The copper arrow was incredibly accurate, piercing through a neck, cutting through the windpipe, and spraying out vivid red. A Canine Descendant warrior abruptly stopped shouting, covered his neck with "heh heh" gasps, and fell.


    Black Wolf did not pause, taking down three men in quick succession. Wearing half armor of copper and a face-covering copper helmet, he stood at the center of the formation, not avoiding any attacks. Beside him stood eighty longbow escorts, also clad in medium armor, all drawing their bows to shoot together.


    "Swish swish swish!"


    The precise feathered arrows were aimed at the wall, felling over a dozen tribal huntsmen. The vanguard had pushed within forty paces! Nine hundred vanguard barbarians, shouting fervently, began to ascend the slope, charging towards the encampment!


    "Swish swish swish!"


    Hundreds of red-haired hunters peeked from behind the wooden planks and began firing desperately at the forces below. At this range, the Guajili¡¯s archery was incredibly precise! Dozens of vanguard barbarians were struck in the head and neck, rolling down the slope.


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"


    The sharp crossbow bolts whistled through the air, taking down over a dozen more hunters. The vanguard warriors did not halt their advance, moving up the blood-strewn slope lined with bodies, and engaged in close combat with the Canine Descendants who had charged from the encampment.


    The battle became increasingly fierce. While the seasoned red-haired hunters were able to maintain their composure, the ordinary tribal huntsmen were nearly driven mad. They recklessly exposed themselves, braving incoming crossbow bolts to fire arrows downwards, striking down both Canine Descendants and barbarians alike.


    "Swish swish swish!"


    The narrow slope was a scene of extreme carnage! Canine Descendants and barbarians were stabbing each other, bodies entwined as they fell. Blood flowed freely from victims below, who emitted dying wails before being silenced under the trample. Fresh warriors continuously replaced the fallen, continuing the bloody melee.


    "Hit the target!"


    Toltec squinted his eyes and let out a sudden low growl. With one shot, an arrow pierced the head of a tribal huntsman. He quickly nocked another arrow and with a slight shift in aim, swiftly released another.


    From atop the watchtower, a red-haired hunter had just peeked out from behind a wooden plank, preparing to shoot downward when suddenly a sharp pain struck his neck, plunging his vision into darkness. The red-haired hunter instantly lost all strength and tumbled down from the rampart, his body drenched in red.


    Black Wolf, with his longbow escort, precisely picked off the tribal huntsmen, clearing the high watchtowers. Soon, the red-haired hunters caught on.


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"


    Hundreds of bone arrows flew rapidly, striking the copper armor of the escorts and making a "thud thud" sound. Many bone arrows pierced through the cloth and were subsequently blocked by the bronze plates, fruitlessly embedding themselves onto the armor clothes. From a distance, the armor clothes looked like a porcupine¡¯s quills draped over the escorts. Faced with such thick-skinned adversaries, the red-haired hunters viciously aimed for vital spots. Feathered arrows came like a fierce torrent, clanging against the bronze helmets, yet only two escorts were injured.


    "Whiz whiz whiz!" sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sharp crossbow bolts split the sky, once again pinning themselves onto the rampart wall. A dozen exposed red-haired fell with muffled groans. Keka felt a pang in his heart. He looked at the longbow escorts who didn¡¯t fall despite being hit by dozens of arrows and roared in anger.


    "Ah! What is this? Why can¡¯t they be killed!"


    "Chieftain, the Red Fox scouts have mentioned, these are the Cactus Tribe¡¯s thick-skinned warriors! They wear thick skin and can withstand hundreds of arrows without dying!"


    The red-haired trusted aide Miwa came forward and explained.


    "What? Thick skin? What kind of witchcraft is this!"


    Keka widened his eyes, carefully observing the encampment in front of him, but he couldn¡¯t make out the details right away.


    The fierce fighting had been raging for a quarter. The three hundred able-bodied men who had left the encampment had no retreat, and nearly all of them had perished. Large groups of Cactus warriors were fervently shouting as they gradually charged up the slope. Braving the storm of arrows, they approached the rampart walls, soon to climb over. Although the rear encampment¡¯s walls were slightly higher at only two meters, they couldn¡¯t possibly withstand the charge.


    "Miva, how many are conscripted for the second wave of charging warriors?"


    Keka asked urgently. The battle was critical; the first thousand had been nearly spent.


    "About six hundred or more. They have been issued shields and long spears! More are still being conscripted¡­"


    "Divide them into two large groups! Add a hundred Red Frog warriors to each as the core, and hurry out of the camp to confront the enemy! We cannot let the Aztec climb over the walls!"


    "Your orders, valiant Chieftain!"


    "Right, have the escort wearing my Wolf Robe and carrying the flag, move forward! Assign twenty warriors bearing great shields to protect him. Yes, let him boost the morale of our warriors and also attract enemy arrows!"


    "Your orders, cunning Chieftain!"


    The drumming of the charge grew more intense, and the bone whistle sounds of the Canine Descendants became even shriller. Moments later, four hundred tribal warriors surged out of the encampment, clashing fiercely again with the vanguard barbarians on the slope. Then, the Chief wrapped in the Wolf Robe and carrying the Red Frog flag actually came near the rampart oneself. Instant cheers erupted from the Canine Descendants above the encampment!


    "Eh! This Red Frog Chieftain is indeed a warrior worth admiring!"


    Toltec, noticing the moving flag, paused slightly. He nodded with respect and without hesitation, let loose a swift shot!


    "Whoosh!"


    The copper arrow, swift as lightning, struck the shield below the flag, forcing the brave warrior wrapped in the Wolf Robe to step back. Then, dozens of feathered arrows simultaneously assaulted! The warrior, in fright, fell to the ground and shrunk behind the shield and escorts, like a small boat in a tempest.


    "Temple crossbowmen, step forward twenty paces, aim close and shoot!"


    After firing another volley, Toltec verified that the longbow couldn¡¯t penetrate the wooden shield. He immediately waved the command flag, calling the crossbowmen to advance. On the slope, Canine Descendants and barbarians were once again engaged in a ghastly slaughter. Tribal huntsmen desperately shot arrows, constantly killing the barbarians below, only to be shot dead by distant archers in turn.


    "Whiz whiz whiz!"


    The crossbowmen, panting heavily, struggled to release a volley of arrows. The piercing crossbow bolts whistled through the air, tearing through the Red Cat flag, shattering the protective wooden shields, and injuring the surrounding escorts!


    Toltec watched carefully for a moment. No figure emerged from behind the shield. He couldn¡¯t tell if the Chieftain wearing the Wolf Robe was dead. But given the quiet reaction inside the encampment, it seemed the goal was not entirely achieved.


    "Truly tenacious warrior!"


    Black Wolf felt a slight sentiment, disappointingly shook his head. He once again raised his longbow, shooting out an arrow with force, and nailed another red-haired dead!


    "Whiz whiz whiz! Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"


    Keka widened his eyes, hiding behind the rampart wall. Feathered arrows and crossbow bolts flew over his head, pinning down one escort after another under the flag. Before long, the red-haired trusted aide Miwa arrived with a somber expression.


    "Chieftain, the escort wearing your Wolf Robe, has been shot dead!"


    Keka¡¯s pupils constricted. He looked toward Black Wolf, casting arrows like shooting stars, as if seeing the specter of death himself. The Red Frog Chieftain pondered for a while and then ordered in a low voice.


    "Quick, find another escort to put on my Wolf Robe! Remember, to attract enemy arrows, stack several layers of shields!"


    "Your orders, sly Chieftain!"


    Keka nodded. To the Canine Descendants in the wilderness, deceit and cunning were all praise. They had fought for survival for generations, striving hard to adapt to the harsh environment, dismissing faith and honor. Therefore, when faced with the new gunpowder weapons, they would swiftly seek countermeasures, rather than viewing them as divine intervention as their southern kin might, or even giving up resistance.

 Chapter 615 - 311: The Battle at the Valley Entrance (End)

    The slanting sun cast its glow over the valley, which was awash with scarlet. The bone horns blared urgently, the war drums thundered, and the bloody slaughter continued unabated. The battle, along with the waning of lives, gradually reached its climax.


    The vanguard barbarians fervently thrust at their enemies, completely indifferent to their own life and death. The four hundred Canine Descendants managed to resist only for a quarter of an hour before the barbarians slaughtered them all. And at close range, the hunters shot down a large number of the barbarian soldiers. Corpses piled up on the slope, even directly stacking up to the height of the palisade wall. The subsequent wave of barbarians simply charged over the bodies, engaging in a fierce melee with a new batch of Canine Warriors!


    Black Wolf, with a somber face and furrowed brows, shot arrow after arrow, killing the enemies on the palisade wall.


    The fighting in the rear camp had gone beyond his expectations by now, turning into a gruesome war of attrition. Sequential squads of the vanguard barbarians suffered casualties, with four middle squads down, plus one at the start, nearly half lost. More than a dozen Armored Personal Guards fell, each shot through the throat with an arrow. And then the rear line of crossbowmen took a charge, losing twenty to thirty men. In total, that¡¯s over five hundred Imperial Guards! How was he to explain this number to his Highness? Only a more thorough victory would suffice!


    Dozens of steps away, Keka¡¯s heart was torn, watching the heavy casualties. The Aztecs held the long-range advantage, attacking with ferocity like a storm. During these two hours of fighting, the Canine Descendants could only fill the breach with their lives.


    The able-bodied men called up from various Tribes, used as meat shields, had died in succession, numbering one thousand five hundred. Casualties among the ordinary warriors of the Red Frog Tribe exceeded five hundred, while even the redheaded warriors suffered a hundred losses. In total, that made over two thousand dead and wounded, of which more than six hundred were from the Red Frog Tribe itself. How many Aztecs had died? Watching the four hundred who had sallied out now caught in a hard fight, it was unclear how long they could hold. Once the enemy samurai broke into the camp, losing the support of long-range fire, the rear camp would fall!


    Keka bit his teeth and clenched his fist, shouting to a red-haired trusted aide.


    "Miwa, we¡¯re almost out of levied strongmen! Take four hundred warriors from the troops of the rear camp, form a squad, and be ready to strike at any moment!"


    "What?! Chieftain, we can¡¯t do as you say! Our Red Frog Tribe in total has only two thousand warriors! A quarter are already dead, and half are holding their ground here. How can we commit the entire remaining tribe?"


    "Hmm? What do you suggest? Behind us lies the valley; there¡¯s simply no way to retreat, the warriors can¡¯t fall back. Once we lose the palisade wall and the cactus warriors break in, the camp is finished, the valley is lost!"


    "Chieftain, to surround and kill those Otomi curs, the Red Fox Tribe sent over a thousand warriors! They¡¯ve found high ground behind the camp to watch the battle from, and they¡¯re the elite of the Red Fox! We must drag the Red Fox Tribe into this battle one way or another!"


    "Oh! The Red Fox Tribe..."


    Keka¡¯s eyes widened in annoyance as he tugged at his red hair. Then, grinding his teeth, he said.


    "Tell that red-haired squad leader from the Red Fox Tribe! The Cactus Tribe¡¯s assault is fierce; the Red Frog Tribe can barely hold on. He must bring reinforcements immediately! If there are no reinforcements in two quarters of an hour, the Red Frog Tribe will have no choice but to surrender to the Cactus Tribe!"


    "What?! Chieftain, after fighting like this, how can we surrender to the Cactus Tribe? They¡¯re in a blood rage on the other side!"


    The red-haired trusted aide shook his head repeatedly. The Red Frog Chieftain glared fiercely.


    "Just say it like that! That red-haired squad leader isn¡¯t smart, lacks experience! He often goes back to the council hall to report; I¡¯ve seen him many times. Just intimidate him, and he¡¯ll believe!"


    "As you command, Chieftain, you are wise!"


    Miwa dashed towards the rear camp, with the whistling rain of arrows sweeping over his head and the thunderous shouts drifting away behind him. Soon, Miwa burst out of the camp and headed for the Red Fox banner on the hill to the west. Beneath the flag, a Red Fox squad leader was peering out at the battlefield, accompanied by another red-haired scout. Indeed, it was Ivican and Amoxtli.


    The setting sun cast a faint purple hue, dyeing the sky in brilliant colors. Below the heavens, the frenzied slaughter seemed endless. Squad after squad of Cactus warriors continued to charge forward, breaking through the barricades of the Canine warriors. The vanguard barbarians roared ferociously in battle, while the Armored Personal Guards scaled the walls of the fort. In just a moment, dozens of vanguards had broken into the camp. Victory seemed as close as the twilight glow of the sunset!


    Black Wolf Torc stood firm as a rock, his golden Armor Clothes pierced by dozens of Bone Arrows. He struggled to suppress his desire to charge into battle himself, instead shooting arrow after arrow at the enemies atop the walls. Behind him, the Temple crossbowmen¡¯s fire began to thin out as they neared the end of their bolts.


    "Good! Break through the valley mouth, now is the time!"


    Torc¡¯s arrows flew like lightning, once again killing a redhead. A smile of victory appeared on his lips. But in just a moment, that victorious smile froze and became unattainably distant.


    The Red Fox¡¯s banner was raised within the camp, and hundreds of Tribal Warriors poured in. Large groups of Red Fox warriors wielding War Clubs quickly overwhelmed the dozens of vanguard who had entered the camp. Then, hundreds of Red Fox Hunters raised their Hunting Bows and stepped up to the walls, firing downwards to stabilize the teetering front line.


    "Whew! Red Cat, Red Frog, Red Fox, truly united as one, supporting each other like a pack of wolves!"


    Black Wolf exhaled deeply. His eyes flashed with the will to fight, and he raised his Longbow once again.


    "Hit the mark! ...Roar! Watch me shatter you all!"


    Behind the walls, a newly arrived redhead warrior took an arrow to the forehead and fell with a scream, clearly not long for this world. A few steps away, Ivican quickly crouched down. He touched his cheek, wiped away the splashed liquid, and felt a rush of relief.


    "Ao! Who is this? Standing there like a target, yet his archery is so sharp!"


    "Ah? He is the Tribal Chief controlling eight thousand warriors, the Commander of the central Cactus warriors, the skilled archer Black Wolf."


    Waka looked around, seeing the Cactus warriors who had broken into the camp being temporarily driven back, and he let out a slight sigh of relief.


    "Ao! To think that a chieftain would be fighting on the front line!"


    Ivican, still crouching, shouted in astonishment.


    "Shoot him!"


    "Swish swish swish!"


    The piercing bolts flew out rapidly, instantly killing dozens of Red Fox warriors on the fortifications. Hearing the familiar screams, Ivican¡¯s heart ached, and he howled loudly.


    "Ao! After this battle, the chieftain is sure to flay my skin!"


    "Ivican, that Black Wolf, he¡¯s a samurai clad in thick hide!"


    Arrow storms interweaved, and battle cries shook the heavens. Amoxtli crouched, observing carefully for a long while before patting Ivican on the shoulder.


    "Don¡¯t forget the way to defeat those in thick hide!" S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Roar! Amoxtli, you said to shoot at the exposed neck, shoot at the shins and feet, hammer their heads?"


    "Right. But this samurai is really skilled, always using his arm to shield his vital neck. He has armored personal guards around him for protection. We can only shoot his shins!"


    "Roar! Amoxtli, are you sure?"


    "...I¡¯m not. But Ivican, you should be!"


    Two red-haired warriors crouched low, grasping their bows and arrows, moving cautiously toward the stockade wall. Not far away, Cactus warriors once again charged forth, clashing violently with Red Frog and Red Fox warriors. Blood had already completely drenched the camp, the stench of blood permeating the air.


    "Roar! Me?"


    "Yeah. Use the greatbow you captured! We¡¯ll split in two directions. I¡¯ll go this way... you go that way... and we¡¯ll shoot him like this!"


    "Alright! Amoxtli, you¡¯re so clever!"


    Their low whispers scattered along the top of the wall, soon covered by the fierce battle cries. Black Wolf Torc¡¯s face was icy, his breath light, his arrows fast as shooting stars. His gaze fixed on the camp ahead, his eyes burning like flame.


    "Armored personal guards, charge once more!"


    Black Wolf Torc bellowed fiercely. The personal guards around him bowed slightly, before charging fiercely down the slope.


    "Swoosh!"


    Suddenly, a bone arrow shot with lethal precision, aimed straight for Black Wolf¡¯s cheek. His pupils shrank, and he tilted his head slightly. With a "thud," the bone arrow was deflected by the helmet that shielded his face, shooting off into the distance.


    "Ratfish!"


    Black Wolf glared furiously at the older red-haired warrior who stood defiantly with his bow aimed at him. Without hesitation, Black Wolf turned and released an arrow with a swift motion!


    "Swoosh, ah!..."


    The arrow from Black Wolf Torc was released without a glance at the outcome, followed by the sharp sound of the wind. He instinctively bent his body to avoid it, but then felt a sudden pain in his leg! Looking down, Black Wolf saw a copper arrow had pierced through his left leg. The copper arrow¡¯s force had torn through his cotton armor and embedded deeply into his flesh, far surpassing the impact of a Guajili¡¯s short bow!


    "Swoosh! Swoosh!"


    From atop the stockade, two sharp arrows whistled down, targeting Black Wolf Torc¡¯s cheek and shin once again. He dodged with all his might, only to feel another pain in his right leg! With both legs injured, he could no longer stand steadily and tumbled to the ground. Soon, fine beads of sweat emerged on Black Wolf¡¯s forehead. He struggled to stand but couldn¡¯t muster the strength.


    "Commander!"


    A dozen personal guards rushed over anxiously, shielding Black Wolf with their bodies.


    "Black Wolf Commander!"


    At the watchtower in the front camp, Mespa¡¯s face changed dramatically seeing Black Wolf fall to the ground. If the prince¡¯s beloved general fell here, his fate... With that thought, Mespa reached for the conch and forcefully sounded it:


    "Uuuu! All troops retreat!..."


    "Uuuu! All troops retreat!"


    The grating sound of the conch echoed through the valley, and the boiling battlefield paused in an instant. The vanguard warriors looked back in disbelief, only to see their commander¡¯s vanishing figure and the retreat banner raised by General Mespa.


    "Don¡¯t... continue!..."


    Black Wolf gritted his teeth, shouting through the pain, his words garbled. The personal guards hesitated but still covered their commander, pulling out the commander¡¯s banner, and collectively retreated toward the front camp.


    "Whiz, whiz, whiz!"


    Crossbowmen on the temple unleashed their last bolts, fiercely suppressing the battlements to cover the vanguard camp as it retreated down the slope. The slope was littered with bodies and blood, a trail extending right in front of the crossbowmen. Drip, drip... the thick red slowly congregated in the valley track, forming puddles that submerged their ankles.


    A moment later, the two armies disengaged, growing more distant. The cruel battle finally came to a complete stop, and everyone was utterly exhausted. The evening breeze blew, and the tattered Red Frog banners fluttered on the palisade. The camp was filled with bodies, and there were defending soldiers lying still as if they were corpses themselves.


    In the sky, the violet sunset spread its last rays of brilliance and warmth before gradually dipping behind the mountain ridge. The mountain¡¯s shadow spread like thick ink, gradually engulfing the entire valley. Amidst the merging purple light and darkness, flocks of American eagles swooped down. They uttered mournful cries and tore off the soft flesh of death with their sharp beaks¡ªa feast long awaited.


    As the sunset faded, darkness engulfed the two camps. The camp, like a wounded beast, lay in the shadows of night, silently licking its wounds. Moments later, scattered campfires ignited within the encampments. The flickering lights, distant from one another, resembled the half-closed eyes of a predator.

 Chapter 616 - 312: The Kings of the Wilderness

    The mountains undulated across the highland, and birds flew to the far distance. Sun rose and moon set; the world always vast, space endless to the far distance. Trails of dust rose up in the distant sky, the grand troop moved from the horizon to sight. As the sun set and the moon rose, the sky turned to dusk, and the army halted its advance.


    Draped in copper armor, Xiulote ascended a mound near the camp. He gazed to the north, where the twilight saturated the sky, casting a splendid light and shadow over the mountains. Light and shadow shifted, clouds danced, the earth and sky merged, yet were so elusive.


    "Just like the gaze of the gods, observing the hearts of mortals..."


    The king looked calmly at the sky, his thoughts soaring across the vast world. He had already heard of the battle situation in the valley, so he hurried day and night to get there.


    The Toltec led his army to attack the valley. In just two days, eight hundred Imperial Guards were wounded or killed, five hundred Pamus samurai fell, and two hundred Light Archers were lost. A total of one thousand five hundred casualties, and Black Wolf was also injured and bedridden, unable to walk...


    Xiulote slightly lowered his eyes, then looked to the far distance. At this moment, the mountains of the valley were at the end of his sight, just twenty or thirty miles away. Scouts from both sides were relaying information, running across the wilderness.


    The king¡¯s gaze lingered on the sky, as if feeling the mood of the gods. After a while, he hummed softly,


    "...And like the brush of the gods, with the sunset as water, and night sky as ink. When the brush dips, the ink and water blend, making a picturesque sunset... The gods paint with the sky, and the king replies with his realm. My pen and ink are the same..."


    The Head Warrior hurried over and saw His Highness¡¯s calm demeanor, pausing slightly. In that moment, he was suddenly reminded of his Predecessor Monarch, Montezuma. Only after several breaths did he step forward respectfully to inquire.


    "Your Highness, the legion camp has been established, and the gunpowder and food supplies are also properly arranged. Peasants are preparing dinner."


    Xiulote nodded. The wilderness mountains were undulating, making the march slow. Out of the three thousand Imperial Guards, two thousand five hundred were in armor, carrying eight Eight-Gate Wooden Cannons and gunpowder, plus two thousand Militia transporting food supplies. Fortunately, they should reach the valley camp by tomorrow.


    "Bertade, where is Jiowar¡¯s legion?"


    "According to the Messenger¡¯s report, Prince Jiowar¡¯s eastern legion is fifty miles to the northeast of our main force. They will continue to move northeast for a day, occupying strategic points there to guard against the Red Dog Tribe of Pamus City. The Red Dog Tribe has been frequently mobilizing lately, possibly coming to support the Red Fox Valley. The eastern legion¡¯s Scouts have already clashed multiple times with their red-haired, and a battle is expected."


    "Send an Envoy, tell Jiowar to halt the march, fortify the camp on the spot, control the nearby mountain paths, and cover the northeast of the main army. The corn hasn¡¯t been harvested yet, and since the Canine Descendants are mobilizing now, they will certainly send troops. The Canine Descendants move fast, we need to guard against a surprise attack!"


    Bertade took out paper and pen to quickly record the instructions and drew a simple map, before handing it to the king. Xiulote scanned it, stamped his seal, and then two trusted aides with the Jade Talisman and royal decree set off to the northeast immediately.


    "What about Chalki¡¯s legion?"


    "Your Highness, General Chalki¡¯s western legion is fifty miles to the west. They have sent a Messenger asking whether to converge with the central army?"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and shook his head.


    "Send an Envoy, order Chalki! The western legion doesn¡¯t need to converge; proceed directly to the northwest entrance of the Red Fox Valley. Since the Canine Descendants have trapped themselves, we cannot let them escape. Hmm, command Chalki to quicken the pace and send two thousand elite to block the entrance! Within two days, he must seal off the northwest passage, leaving no chance for the Canine Descendants¡¯ Great Tribe to flee!"


    "By your command, Your Highness."


    Bertade bowed his head in salute and continued writing. Since Chalki, the troop leader, was illiterate, the Head Warrior drew a simple diagram and repeated the verbal message. Soon, two more envoys hurried away.


    "Bertade, well drawn. The terrain and rivers, all marked very well. The pictographs are also very vivid."


    Xiulote smiled, patting the Head Warrior on the shoulder. Then, the King turned around to look at the smoke rising from the campfires.


    "The journey is long, the responsibility is great. After the northern campaign is complete, we must have the Otomi Tribes select their young to go to the Capital City for schooling! We¡¯ll need to send more literate Priests as well..."


    The cooking smoke curled upwards into the dim sky. Circles of bonfires flickered within the camp, while large groups of Samurai patrolled nearby. Outside the camp, nightfall covered the land. Two figures, hats on their heads, hid in the shadows of the bushes, their expressions serious as they spied on the distant camp.


    The aroma of food drifted over from afar. Ivican swallowed hard and cursed softly.


    "Ah! Grilled corn cakes. Damn it, the Cactus Tribe really is wealthy! In this season, they can still provide delicious corn cakes for all their Samurai! I can only eat pumpkin every meal..."


    "Ivican, have you counted the number of cooking fires?"


    Amoxtli whispered.


    "The smoke is thick and black, all mixing together, who can count that? There are few trees and grass on the wilderness, and I don¡¯t even know what they are burning, having seen no wood chopping..."


    After trying hard to observe for a while, Ivican still shook his head.


    "Amoxtli, during the day, did you see the marching columns, how many people do you estimate there were?"


    "Around three to six thousand. At the front, there were lots of Platinum Cotton Armor-clad tough skins, followed by swarms of Militia transporting food. They were carrying strange wooden beasts, heaped with piles of food!"


    "Ah, I saw it too! In the middle of the column were eight long wooden beasts, worshiped by hundreds. The Cactus Tribe always has such bizarre and Mana-filled things. But no surprise in seeing these here in the God of Death¡¯s Great Chief¡¯s personal Guard Tribe!"


    Ivican nodded. He gazed for a long while at the black Wolf Banner at the camp¡¯s center as if he were seeing the totem of the Priests in his tribe before speaking again with reverence.


    "Amoxtli, looking at the dust kicked up by the marching troop, it¡¯s truly the scale of a Great Tribe. With the God of Death¡¯s Great Chief personally leading the tribe here, and with many evil creatures, can we still hold the valley¡¯s mouth?" S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Amoxtli was silent for a while before shaking his head.


    "Such things... What would a simple Red Fox Tribesman like me know."


    "Ah! Amoxtli, the Chieftain has conscripted the Red-Haired from all Tribes, joining the Red Fox army. You are now part of our Red-Haired Tribe! I know how smart you are. Without you, I wouldn¡¯t have achieved the merit from a few days ago. Right, the Chieftain promised to grant me a thousand warriors! In the future, I¡¯ll lead the Tribal Warriors, and you¡¯ll be the Deputy Leader. Yes, your tribe¡¯s manpower will all be managed by you. The two of us brothers, together we¡¯ll roam the Wilderness!"


    The cruel battle at the Valley¡¯s Mouth had passed several days ago, and each tribe of the Valley suffered heavy losses. The Red Cat Tribe lost three-quarters of its warriors, the Red Frog Tribe lost a quarter, and the Red Fox Tribe had a hundred fall in battle. Facing this situation, the three major Tribes began to conscript soldiers from the common Tribes en masse, divided up manpower, and sought to replenish the losses from the war.

 Chapter 617 - 313: Parting

    The full moon rose into the sky, spreading a cold radiance that lit up the wilderness of the night. It was mid-September, and the full moon was at its prime. Loud howls of wolves echoed from distant mountains, seeming to tell of a longing from afar.


    Using the moonlight, two red-haired Scouts moved silently across the wilderness, followed by more than three hundred warriors clad in cotton armor. Their mission was originally to scout and ambush the Aztec¡¯s supply troops. However, they encountered the God of Death¡¯s Great Chief¡¯s trusted aide¡¯s tribe. With so few people, they could do nothing and needed to quickly report back with the latest military intelligence.


    The steps heading home were always hurried. Soon, the group followed a narrow mountain path and entered the southern mountains of the valley. Ivican greeted the Tribal Warriors guarding the mountain path and then took the lead up the ridge. The long, fertile valley unfolded before him, with tall corn flanking both sides of the river, signaling the hope of a bountiful harvest.


    "Awooo! Awooo! Amoxtli, the moon is so full¡ªit¡¯s the Moon God¡¯s Blessing Day! According to tradition, the tribe should offer a deer as a sacrifice. Everyone will enjoy a good feast of venison, then dance around the firepond, with young men and women making merry together! Because after the Moon God¡¯s Blessing Day, the corn will soon be ripe for harvest, and the increased population will have food to sustain them..."


    Ivican stood on the ridge, looking longingly at the sky and howling like a wolf.


    In the traditions of the Guajili people, the sky held the greatest divinity. The moon and the sun were incarnations of deities and objects of their worship. And the full moon before the autumn harvest was a day worthy of celebration; all tribes held sacrificial rites, and sometimes they even visited each other to reduce inbreeding within the tribes.


    Hearing this, Amoxtli also paused briefly to gaze at the bright night sky. The full moon hung high above the rolling mountains, illuminating the mountain camps. Both camps lit up fires, standing opposite each other. The Cactus Tribe¡¯s Samurai occupied the front camp, blocking the eastern mouth of the valley; the Canine Descendants¡¯ warriors occupied the rear camp, vigilantly guarding the other side day and night. The valley was filled with a deadly silence, with flocks of vultures on the ground pecking at the not fully consumed blood clots and carcasses day and night.


    "Ivican, has the Cactus Tribe not attacked these days? I heard from other Scouts that the Red Frog Tribe is still guarding the rear camp."


    Amoxtli squinted his eyes and stared at the valley mouth for a while, but he could not see the flags inside the camp clearly. He looked at his friend.


    "Haha! Since that day when we cooperated and shot the Black Wolf Chieftain going into battle, the Cactus Tribe has been like a sleeping black bear, lying down without making a sound! Otuwa Chieftain and Red Frog Chieftain have talked, allowing him to continue guarding the southeast valley mouth, even gave a thousand warriors drafted from the common tribes! Our Chieftain is very clever, he would never let the Red Frog Tribe go back to the northwest valley mouth!"


    Ivican laughed heartily, quite excited.


    "Ah? The agreement was for the tribes to take turns guarding, would the Red Frog Chieftain agree?"


    "Awooo! In the battle at the valley mouth, Red Cat and Red Frog both suffered heavy losses. The combined warriors of the two tribes don¡¯t match up to our one. Now this valley is under the rule of our Red Fox Tribe!"


    Ivican proudly slapped his chest. Then, after thinking for a moment, he added.


    "Otuwa Chieftain also appeased the other two chieftains, allowing them to supplement their numbers from the tribes in the valley. The Red Frog Chieftain was somewhat dissatisfied, argued for a long time, but ultimately agreed. The latest requirement is to hold the valley mouth for another ten days! The corn is almost ripe, some tribes can¡¯t wait and have begun picking the ears. Anyway, they can be eaten even if not fully ripe, so there¡¯s less harvest, but they can¡¯t be concerned about that now..."


    "Ten days... harvesting unripe corn..."


    Amoxtli pondered for a while and asked in a lowered voice.


    "Ivican, when are we from the Red Fox Tribe leaving?"


    Ivican¡¯s expression became serious. He stepped closer and replied in a low voice. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Amoxtli, I won¡¯t hide it from you, it¡¯s in the next two days! The Chieftain originally planned to leave after picking some corn in three days, taking more people with us. Now that the Cactus Great Chief is approaching with his army, we definitely have to leave earlier! You go back to the tribe and pack up first. After I ask for the Chieftain¡¯s instructions, I¡¯ll tell you the exact time tomorrow!"


    Amoxtli nodded gravely. The two talked in whispers, walking in the moonlight. During the conversation, the mountain road forked. One way led to the center of the valley, the other to the western side of the valley, each just in sight.


    "Ah, Amoxtli, my good friend! You are now part of the Red Fox Tribe, and you have achieved great things; even the Chieftain Otuwa has heard of your name. The Chieftain favors warriors with brains, and he has said he wants to make good use of you!"


    Ivican stepped forward, firmly grasping his friend¡¯s arm, and sincerely looked into his eyes.


    "Chieftain Otuwa values you! In addition to the tribal warriors, you can bring along some of the old and weak, and join the Red Fox Tribe! I know you are reluctant to leave your good old chieftain, so bring him with you! And bring a few more people too. Hmm, Aran¡¯s archery surpasses many redheads, she does not count as part of the quota."


    Amoxtli looked at his friend, fell silent for a moment, and nodded.


    "Okay. Thank you, Ivican, my good friend!"


    "Ah! What¡¯s this talk of thanks?"


    Ivican smiled, and patted Amoxtli¡¯s shoulder.


    "I¡¯ll come back tomorrow with the warriors!"


    "Okay. See you tomorrow!"


    Amoxtli also smiled. After speaking, he waved goodbye to Ivican. The warriors behind them parted ways, with the Red Fox warriors heading towards the center of the valley, and the Red Crow warriors heading toward the northwest of the valley. The mountains curved and undulated, and soon they were out of sight of each other.


    Under the lingering moonlight, Amoxtli walked on, the long road illuminated by moonlight, heading towards the direction of his tribe. A quarter of an hour later, the rudimentary Red Crow camp appeared before him. A shallow fence, tattered sheds, warriors on guard, and the chief¡¯s longhouse with a fire lit outside.


    Amoxtli reached out and touched his left ear. A large portion of the ear¡¯s edge was missing, carefully wrapped in cotton cloth, and it was somewhat painful to touch. During the battle at the mouth of the valley, he had ambushed the Black Wolf chieftain, drawing attention, and was struck by an arrow from the enemy, costing him half of his ear.


    "Whew! What a formidable warrior! This half ear, was not lost in vain."


    Amoxtli turned his head, looked at the over one hundred tribal warriors behind him, half of whom were redheads. Due to his war achievements, the tribe¡¯s redheads, once conscripted by the Red Fox, were all returned to his command. Together with the two hundred remaining in the tribe, the three hundred warriors of the Red Crow Tribe were all gathered.


    The guarding warriors saluted the redhead captain. Amoxtli nodded and entered the camp gate. The rudimentary camp had been cleaned up, belongings tightly bound with grass ropes, and supplies loaded in bamboo baskets. In truth, there wasn¡¯t much¡ªjust enough food to stay alive, weapons for fighting, and some herbs and tools.


    "Father, you¡¯re back! How is your ear, any better? I¡¯ve picked some more herbs..."


    The girl Aran, like a lively deer, carrying a bow and arrows, swiftly ran up from the camp.


    A genuine smile appeared on Amoxtli¡¯s face. He ruffled his daughter¡¯s hair, smiling as he spoke.


    "Much better! Father has important matters to discuss with the chieftain. When I come out, I¡¯ll talk with you."


    Aran blinked, nodded vigorously, and watched as Amoxtli bent his body to enter the longhouse behind the glaring fire. The dazzling fire drew the eye, making the darkness within the longhouse difficult to see.

 Chapter 618 - 314: Full Moon and Lone Wolf

    The low chieftain¡¯s longhouse was dark, the dense scent of mixed herbs lingering heavily. The faint moonlight fell into the room, illuminating two figures sitting opposite each other. Around the shadows was a circle of sacrificial bones, and a silent quietude.


    Red Crow Chieftain Kakalo hung his head without speaking. He reached out his thin arm, picked up a pine flute from the ground, and put it to his lips. The ethereal flute sound rose in an instant, wailing into the night, its sound distant and desolate, like a call from the wilderness.


    Outside the longhouse, Aran¡¯s eyes widened. This was the flute music the chieftain always played during every Moon God¡¯s sacrificial rite. She listened to the flute in silence, watching the full moon above, thinking of the lone wolves on the wilderness. She closed her eyes, reminiscing of once-loved ones and home, and contemplated the wolf¡¯s resilience and loneliness. Memories of the old days drifted away like the long wind, and the desolate flute sound did not last long before everything abruptly stopped.


    Kakalo slowly put down the wooden flute. He raised his head and looked at Amoxtli.


    "My child, what did you hear?"


    Amoxtli opened his eyes, revealing a hint of longing.


    "Chieftain, I heard the Moon God¡¯s sacrificial rites and blessings. Under the full moon, the world has eagles flying afar, and expansive highlands..."


    "Aximo, the world of the wilderness is vast. Tribes are constantly migrating, eagles soaring away in flight, everything is for the sake of life and hope, inheritance, and continuation. Now this valley has become a deadly land, and dark shadows come from the south. We cannot resist the shadows, so it¡¯s time to leave... cough cough!"


    Kakalo began to speak slowly, the wrinkles on his face trembling, appearing especially old. However, his calm narration was interrupted by a violent cough, and the old chieftain doubled over in pain, covering his mouth fiercely. Amoxtli immediately stepped forward to help the respected chieftain, patting his back to ease his breath.


    After a while, Kakalo stopped coughing. He let go of his hand, but in his palm was a dazzling bright red. The old chieftain silently clenched his hand again and said in a deep voice.


    "Aximo, pass the message along. Leave behind unnecessary baggage; we will only bring food... we leave tonight!"


    "Ah?! We leave tonight?"


    Amoxtli was somewhat surprised.


    "Yes, leave tonight! From a single withered leaf, one can see the entire autumn barrenness. The Aztec¡¯s reinforcement will arrive at the valley entrance tomorrow, danger is imminent, we can no longer delay! In the past few days, we gathered some unripe corn, and together with the previous pumpkins, the tribe¡¯s food can last another four or five months. Once we escape this deadly land, there will be new opportunities!... cough cough!"


    Kakalo issued his orders sharply, then coughed again. Amoxtli was about to step forward when he saw the old chieftain gesture heavily with his hand.


    "Cough cough... I¡¯m fine! Hurry, send envoys to inform the friendly Tribes near the valley entrance: the Aztec Great Chief is coming with reinforcements. His witchcraft is more powerful, his wisdom more profound, and he will certainly not overlook the northwest valley entrance! Holding the valley is a dead end; flee as soon as possible!..."


    "Aximo, the battle at the valley entrance was so fierce, the Tribes were already fearful. The three Great Tribes aggressively absorbed the others, leaving ordinary ones in panic. Now that the enemy¡¯s reinforcements are coming, it is the perfect opportunity for us to retreat¡ªthere will be no one to block our way now! The main force of the Red Frog Tribe has been arranged at the eastern valley entrance, and that old fox is also thinking of retreating. We must leave before him!..."


    "After leaving the valley, head north for three days to avoid the Aztec¡¯s blades. Then turn eastward, keep going to the east, cross the towering mountains, and reach the Vastec¡¯s territory! Guajili¡¯s opportunity for life lies to the east and north..."


    Kakalo paused. His eyes, profound, gazed at the Amoxtli in front of him, as if looking at some sort of hope. Then, he slowly opened his hand, showing a large clump of bright red.


    "Aximo, I have said all that I needed to say. Some things don¡¯t need to be spoken but are for you to realize on your own. Tonight¡¯s retreat is for you to command!..." S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But that, coughing up blood! Chieftain, you... you won¡¯t... "


    Amoxtli¡¯s expression drastically changed. He looked at the red in Kakalo¡¯s palm, as if seeing a raging flood or fierce beast. Deep fear appeared for the first time on the face of this steadfast man, a fear reminiscent of countless past farewells. His eyes widened, and he cried out in anguish.


    "Chieftain... Father!..."


    "My child, it¡¯s okay, don¡¯t be sad... My journey has come to an end, I cannot go any further, nor do I wish to. Let me stay here quietly, let me leave this world alone... Aximo, you have a long road ahead of you. You must carry hope and soar across the wilderness like a mighty eagle. From today on, the Red Crow Tribe is in your hands!... Cough, cough!"


    "Father!..."


    "I¡¯m tired, now go. Do not come back in... Hurry, take the men and children and leave!"


    Having said that, Kakalo lowered his head, no longer looking at Aximo¡¯s face, and stopped speaking. The longhouse was filled with a silence akin to death.


    Aximo remained silent for a long while before slowly kneeling to the ground and giving the old chieftain three deep bows. Then, with grief stricken in his eyes, he painfully turned and left. However, as he stepped out of the chieftain¡¯s longhouse, his sorrow transformed into determination, into a stern cry.


    "Everyone! Pack up, we must hurry and prepare for the tribe¡¯s migration! Within two hours, all able-bodied men and children must set off! All envoys of the tribes, come quickly!"


    The suppressed cries scattered through the night wind in the valley. Soon, the entire camp bustled with activity, with several envoys carrying verbal messages away, sprinting toward the tribes near the valley entrance to deliver urgent news.


    Aximo stood by the bright bonfire, his gaze fixed on the dark longhouse. His heart felt as if it had split in two, one part fallen into the flames, the other engulfed in darkness. Then, a voice as delicate as a sparrow¡¯s song came, waking him from his silence.


    "Father! Why won¡¯t the grand chieftain come out? I heard him coughing!"


    Ala stood before him like a little deer, her eyes as bright as the full moon.


    Aximo reached out, rubbing Ala¡¯s head vigorously. Then, lowering his gaze, he spoke softly.


    "Ala, the grand chieftain has always cherished you dearly. He doesn¡¯t want to come out, nor does he allow me to go in. When the alpha wolf of the wilderness grows old enough, he leaves the pack alone, seeking a hill under the full moon to lie down quietly... Today happens to be the full moon. Ala, go inside. Before we leave, see the grand chieftain one last time."


    Ala stood frozen in place, her eyes misting over. She looked toward her father, but Aximo was striding away, loudly commanding the migration of the tribe. Ala then looked towards the dark longhouse, hesitating for a long while before carefully stepping inside.


    Kakalo was still sitting, head bowed, amidst a pile of bones. Hearing the sound, he lifted his eyes, his aged face breaking into a gentle smile.


    "Ala, is that you?"


    Ala approached and squatted down next to the old chieftain. The Obsidian Dagger strapped to her thigh clinked against the bones. The girl extended both hands, gripping Kakalo¡¯s arms firmly.


    "Grand chieftain, it¡¯s me, I¡¯ve come to see you! Ugh, it¡¯s so dark inside, I can¡¯t see your face clearly. Shall I light the fire pit?"


    "Child, we must always face the darkness..."


    But Ala, being resolute, didn¡¯t wait for Kakalo to finish speaking and quickly ignited the fire pit, then, using the light of the fire, she intently stared at the grand chieftain¡¯s weathered face, as if to imprint his visage in her memory forever.


    Kakalo chuckled quietly to himself. He shook his head, his gaze resting on Ala¡¯s Obsidian Dagger. The old chieftain pondered for a while, and then gestured with his hand.


    "Ala, give me the dagger. The black wolf head on it is a symbol of the Mexica deities, I seem to have heard about it somewhere..."


    The full moon gradually sank westward, and the night fell into depth, yet the valley¡¯s northwestern entrance started to awaken. Thousands of torches blazed at the entrance, as several Tribes, carrying torches, migrated like a howling pack of wolves.

 Chapter 619 - 315 Red Fox Flees

    "Chieftain, Chieftain, the tribes at the northwest valley mouth have escaped!"


    The bright round moon tilted westward, and the faint light of dawn lit up the East. A Red Fox Tribe¡¯s trusted aide, his face etched with urgency, dashed into the nobility residence within the small town in the valley. The residence was built in the Southern Tribe¡¯s architectural style, and although not expansive, it was quite ornately decorated.


    Otuwa was resting inside a stone hall. Hearing the trusted aide¡¯s cry, he opened his eyes and abruptly sat up from the wolf skin blanket.


    "Let him in!"


    The tribal warriors by the door followed the command. The Red Fox Chieftain, squinting his eyes, stood up and grabbed the collar of the trusted aide.


    "What did you say? A tribe has escaped?!"


    The trusted aide was sweating profusely and gasping for breath. The valley was long and narrow, spanning twenty to thirty miles from east to west. He had run all the way from the northwest valley mouth in one breath, and the deep night was already giving way to dawn.


    "Chieftain, several ordinary tribes from the northwest valley mouth have already escaped, four or five of them. They left the valley in the middle of the night, and it seems they had planned this in advance! Our warriors stationed nearby couldn¡¯t intercept them in time; by the time they arrived, it was already too late... The nearby tribes are panicked. Word has spread that the Cactus Tribe¡¯s Great Chief, the God of Death, has arrived with the personal army, and the valley is on the verge of being indefensible! Many tribes are packing their belongings, ready to flee for their lives..."


    "Four or five ordinary tribes, prepared in advance..."


    Otuwa¡¯s expression turned dark. He clenched his fist and asked coldly.


    "Who¡¯s leading them?"


    "It should be the Red Crow Tribe! It seems that these messages originated from within the Red Crow Tribe."


    "The Red Crow Tribe? Damn Kakalo!"


    Otuwa waved his hand violently, smashing the decorative pottery in the stone hall to the ground. The pottery shattered in an instant, scattering fragments everywhere, just like the hearts of the tribes in the valley.


    "The people¡¯s hearts are scattered... Go, bring Ivican to me!"


    The trusted aide hurried off, while the Red Fox Chieftain squinted his eyes, lost in thought and with a hint of murderous intent on his face. Soon Ivican arrived, clad in cotton armor and striding in.


    "Argh! Chieftain, you summoned me?"


    "The Red Crow Tribe has escaped, along with other tribes from the northwest valley mouth! The intelligence you scouted last night has leaked; there¡¯s panic throughout the valley! Ivican, have you gone blind? And to think you recommended Amoxtli to me as Deputy Leader?!"


    "Ah, ah! The Red Crows have fled? Amoxtli, he betrayed me?"


    Ivican stood rooted to the spot, dazed. The memories of the previous day were still fresh in his mind, the round moon on the ridge so beautiful, yet eventually obscured by dark clouds. The eyes of the red-haired captain gradually became bloodshot.


    "I trusted him so much, entrusted him with the conscripted Red Crow warriors to lead... Argh! I¡¯ll kill him, I¡¯ll chop off his head! Chieftain, give me a thousand warriors, I¡¯ll go capture the Red Crow Tribe right now!"


    "Capture? Crap!"


    The Red Fox Chieftain cursed out loud, his cold gaze piercing through.


    "Ivican, I¡¯m giving you a thousand warriors! Take control of the northwest valley mouth, and wait for the migrating vanguard of the tribes! If any ordinary tribe tries to play smart, slaughter them all for me!"


    "Argh! At your command, Chieftain! And the Red Crow Tribe..." S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Out!"


    "Argh!"


    Ivican left with bloodshot eyes, radiating a cold murderous intent. The Red Fox Chieftain did not delay and dispatched all his trusted aides around him.


    "Inform all Tribes immediately to start the relocation! A thousand Tribal Warriors, block off the eastern valley to delay the spread of the message! If the Red Frog Tribe sends someone to inquire, say that a small Otomi squad is causing trouble, and the Red Fox Tribe is assembling to suppress it. A thousand Tribal Warriors, quell the surrounding Tribes, sever all intertribal contacts! If any ordinary Tribes cause trouble, execute them on the spot..."


    "Hmm, take care to appease the redheads conscripted from the Tribes, promising them they can bring some relatives. The remaining six thousand able-bodied people, take whatever food you can carry, and abandon all non-essential baggage! Within half a day, the first batch of the able-bodied must depart, and by today, the Tribe must leave the valley!"


    "Yes, Chieftain!"


    Several Chieftain¡¯s trusted aides bowed and then spread out in all directions. The fertile center of the valley belonged to the Red Fox Tribe, and thousands of Tribespeople were busy with their heads down. The Tribe¡¯s relocation had been prepared for many days, and the heads of each team simply needed to gather the able-bodied, bring the packed food, and they could set off quickly.


    "Chieftain, there are also two thousand Otomi agricultural slaves in the center of the valley. What should we do with them? Should we all..."


    One of the trusted aides, bloodthirsty, made a killing gesture.


    Otuwa¡¯s expression changed. He squinted his eyes, thought carefully for a while, and then shook his head.


    "Forget it, we¡¯re pressed for time and can¡¯t waste it on such trivial matters! Drive them to the corner of the valley and have a hundred men watch over them for a day. These agricultural slaves are terrified out of their wits, unable to wield weapons, and pose no threat to the Tribe. Spare their lives for now, to avoid the Otomi curs doggedly chasing us. Hmm, when we move south next year, we¡¯ll come back to plunder the valley!"


    The trusted aide nodded and departed immediately to make arrangements. Otuwa stood still, gazing at the Stone Hall¡¯s southern-style murals for a while, then exhaled slowly.


    "This Stone Hall is really nice, as comfortable and delicate as Otomi women. When we get back to the Wilderness, we won¡¯t find such finely made stone houses!"


    As the trusted aides relayed the order, the valley quickly became noisy. Countless abled people clustered into dozens of groups, each with large and small bags, laden with items on their backs. The heads of each group shouted and cursed loudly, wielding sticks to force the people to toss away cumbersome Pottery. In the absence of vehicles and pack animals, they couldn¡¯t carry away much wealth, and most of the plundered spoils had to be abandoned.


    Soon, the crisp sound of breaking pottery echoed through the valley, the ground strewn with broken shards and discarded items. The valley was in a state of panic; the hurried scene was visible everywhere, like a stampede of beasts. The long wind blew past, bringing with it chaotic shouts. A yellow leaf fell from a shallow tree, bringing with it the somberness of autumn.


    The sun rose from the horizon, illuminating the chaotic Red Fox Valley. A large Tribe mobilized the entire clan, nearly ten thousand people ready to relocate. Such a large-scale event could not be concealed. Before long, a group of Mexica Scouts left the southern Mountains and sped towards the southern camp.


    "Your Highness! Chaos reigns in the Red Fox Valley; thousands of Canine Descendants are packing their belongings... The Red Fox Tribe is about to flee!"


    Inside the camp, a Scout reported while lying prostrate on the ground. He had hurried almost thirty miles to get here, his body drenched in sweat. In this era without horses, the military Scouts were all lean, each a marathon runner.


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote¡¯s expression became serious as he asked in a deep voice.


    "Hmm?! When did the Red Fox Tribe begin their relocation?"


    "At dawn. But there was noise last night, and there were large fires at the northwestern valley entrance."


    The Scout recounted the scene from the previous night¡ªa moving firelight under the full moon, like a sea of flowers in the night.


    The King looked up at the sun now high in the sky, frowning slightly.


    "Such cunning foxes! To the east of the valley, have the Red Cat and Red Frog Tribes made any moves?"


    "Your Highness, when I left, both Tribes seemed to be in an uproar, but there was no large-scale mobilization."


    "Has an Envoy been sent to the eastern valley entrance? To inform the central Vanguard?"


    "Yes. We set off at the same time. The eastern valley entrance is closer, so there should already be a response by now."


    "Send an Envoy to inform the Black Wolf Legion. Deploy troops behind the valley entrance immediately to entangle the Red Frog Tribe! Send another Envoy to command Chalki to advance north with full force!"


    Xiulote ordered in a commanding voice. Then, with an intense gaze, he turned to his Head Warrior.


    "Bertade, take two thousand of the Personal Army, switch to Light Armor, and move quickly! Head to the northwestern valley entrance¡ª you must arrive before nightfall! Seal off the mountain paths used by the marching army, intercept the fleeing Tribes, and capture the escaping Guajili people!"


    "I will follow your command, Your Highness!"

 Chapter 620 - Three Hundred and Sixteen: Field Mouse

    The sky was clear, the wind gentle, and the afternoon sun was scorchingly hot, drying the dust-covered wilderness. Armies in dark green, bearing the flag of the Black Wolf, hastened along the undulating mountains, rushing toward the mouth of the valley to the northwest, forty miles away. Columns of dust from their march rose to the sky, still visibly distinct even from tens of miles away. Scouts of the Guajili Canine Descendants saw all this from atop the mountains and relayed the urgent news into the valley, further stirring panic in Red Fox Valley.


    At the mouth of the northwest valley, Ivican¡¯s eyes were bloodshot, and his War Club dripped with blood as he stood atop the encampment at the valley¡¯s entrance. A thousand Red Fox warriors, bows and spears in hand, were deployed both inside and outside the mouth of the valley. They had taken complete control over the situation, securing the passage at the valley¡¯s mouth. Nearby Canine Descendants Tribes were ruthlessly scattered, then gathered in the corners of the valley¡¯s entrance, fearfully awaiting a route to escape.


    The valley pathway to the northwest was relatively broad, allowing passage for thousands. Among the pathway lay hundreds of fallen bodies, all dressed in poor Tribal attire. Thousands of Red Fox¡¯s able-bodied men were burdened with food, forming disorganized long lines and trampling over fresh corpses and vivid blood, desperately fleeing northwards. Not far away, two hundred Chieftain¡¯s trusted aides, clad in the Otomi¡¯s grey-blue Cotton Armor, were escorting the heritage flag of the Red Fox, rapidly approaching the valley¡¯s mouth.


    Otuwa stormed through the center of the troops. Although over forty years old, he moved swiftly. The Red Fox Chieftain wore the Aztecs¡¯ dark green Cotton Armor, standing out in the midst of the grey-blue crowd. Scouts hurried back and forth from the valley¡¯s mountains, constantly reporting the latest military intelligence to him.


    "Chieftain, a division from the Cactus Tribe is moving swiftly toward the valley mouth! Their size is about that of two ordinary Tribes, and they are thirty miles away!"


    Scouts hurried to deliver their reports, then dashed off, resembling short-beaked crows fluttering back and forth, all bringing unfortunate tidings.


    The Red Fox Chieftain narrowed his eyes. He surveyed the migrating column and glanced at the sun overhead, cursing under his breath.


    "Damn it! Like coyotes scenting blood, they come so swiftly!... Thirty miles, a forced march, just past midday... The Tribe has only evacuated half of its people; we must find a way to hold out until nightfall!"


    Without stopping, Otuwa soon arrived at the encampment at the valley mouth. Ivican bowed his head in greeting. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Chieftain, I have dispersed the common Tribes at the valley mouth and killed several hundred Tribe members who were in the way. Aaogh! The Red Crow Tribe has not fled far; they have only reached about thirty to forty miles to the northeast..."


    "Ivican, well done. Don¡¯t worry about the Red Crow Tribe anymore! The Tribe will head directly northwest!"


    Otuwa waved his hand. He stood on the high ground of the encampment, not looking at the chaotic situation in the valley or listening to the loud cries nearby. The Red Fox Chieftain looked at the dust in the south, then at the common Tribes gathered near the valley mouth and spoke in a deep voice.


    "How many ordinary Tribes have gathered at the valley mouth? How many people? How many warriors?"


    "Ah?"


    Ivican tugged at his hair, thinking hard.


    "Chieftain, there were originally five small Tribes at this valley mouth. I annihilated one when I arrived, leaving over three thousand people from the remaining four Tribes. Many of their warriors have been conscripted by the three Great Tribes; I estimate only a little over four hundred remain... They¡¯re just a bunch of weak field mice, not even daring to squeak in the face of Red Fox warriors!"


    "Three thousand people, four hundred warriors..."


    Otuwa nodded and remained silent. He squinted for a quarter hour, estimating the march speed of the Cactus Samurai, his hand silently tightening.


    "Ivican, the Cactus Tribe is arriving too quickly! By the time they get here, we will have barely moved a dozen miles; we absolutely cannot hold out until dark."


    "Aaogh? Chieftain, then what should we do?"


    "...Ivican, my brave warrior. Your Archery is exceptional, and you fight with courage and skill. I have always held you in high esteem!"


    "Aaogh, Chieftain, I am ready to fight to the death for you!"


    Hearing the Chieftain¡¯s praise, Ivican struck his chest vigorously.


    "My brave warrior, facing the pursuit of coyotes, field mice cannot simply burrow and run blindly... I have a task for you!"


    "Howl?"


    "Take your thousand warriors with you! Once the tribe¡¯s main forces leave the mouth of the valley, drive out the three thousand assembled tribespeople and charge at the Cactus Tribe¡¯s legion!"


    "Ah?"


    Ivican¡¯s face changed, trembling all over.


    "Chieftain, these three thousand tribespeople are no match at all! A thousand tribal warriors against two to three thousand Cactus samurai... they¡¯ll definitely be defeated!"


    Otuwa¡¯s face was stern, his gaze harsh as he looked towards the redhead captain.


    "Fool! Ivican, I didn¡¯t ask you to fight the Cactus samurai to the death! First, use the tribespeople to break through their ranks and disrupt the march of the Cactus legion. Even three thousand grass mice would keep a pack of wolves busy for half a day! Once the tribespeople have dispersed, harass them a few times, and retreat at nightfall!"


    "There are still twenty thousand from the tribes, two great tribes in the valley. As long as we retreat in time, the Cactus samurai won¡¯t cling to us! Remember, you can outrun anyone!"


    Ivican pursed his lips, thought for a moment, then bit down hard on his teeth.


    "Fine! Chieftain, I¡¯ll go!"


    "Good! When you return, I¡¯ll betroth my daughter to you! No matter how many warriors fall, I will replenish your ranks. Ivican, the survival of our tribe depends on you!"


    "Howl! Chieftain father, I¡¯ll fight to the death for you!"


    Ivican¡¯s eyes reddened once more. He knelt down, kowtowed to Otuwa, then stood up and left.


    A thousand Red Fox warriors immediately sprang into action. Fully armed, they surrounded the common tribes in the corner of the valley and announced the order for conscription. A tribal chieftain had just begun to refuse when Ivican shot him dead with an arrow, and the dozen or so rebellious trusted aides were also killed. Before long, the Red Fox warriors had three thousand tribespeople under control, forcing them to drop their luggage and take up rudimentary stone spears and stone hammers, preparing for a desperate battle.


    As the western sky tilted, six thousand strapping Red Fox tribesmen finally left the valley. Barefoot and carrying food on their backs, they faced the setting sun and fled deep into the wilderness to the northwest. Behind them followed two thousand escorts from the Red Fox warriors. Many of these warriors from common tribes had been forcibly conscripted and were now leaving the valley with the Red Fox Tribe, never to return to their own tribes, their hearts filled with complex emotions.


    Otuwa stood at a high point with the chieftain¡¯s trusted aides, looking south. Cactus samurai charged all the way, now just ten miles away. The dust from the south was almost upon them, nearly blending into the commotion of the valley.


    The Red Fox chieftain then gazed east toward the valley. Continuous war drums sounded from the southeast entrance of the valley, and the distant sounds of battle carried in the wind, indicating fierce fighting. Along the narrow valley, countless Canine Descendant Tribes were in disarray, fighting each other for food, trampling one another. Across the valley, various belongings had been discarded; among the objects lay clusters of bloodstains.


    However, the escape route was blocked by the warriors of the Great Tribe, leaving the various common tribes to flee through the small paths in the northern mountains. With the mountain paths narrow, the tribes stumbled into each other, and it took half a day just to escape with a thousand people.


    "Ha, foolish grass mice..."


    Otuwa shook his head. He had not sealed the northern exit, leaving only a narrow path for escape to avoid a direct assault on the mouth of the valley.


    "Farewell, Red Cat and Red Frog chieftains! May the ancestors bless us, until we meet again in the wilderness!"


    The Red Fox chieftain revealed a mocking smile, then without further delay, turned and left. Behind him, Ivican led a thousand tribal warriors, driving three thousand numb tribespeople towards the Cactus legion several miles away.


    The highland was vast, the sun slowly set, another round of purple twilight. Three thousand tribespeople ran under the twilight, like a desperate horde of mice, charging towards the two thousand-strong formation of the Imperial Guard Legion.


    Bertade frowned slightly, shaking his head. The intense shouts of battle suddenly erupted just outside the northwest mouth of the valley, accompanied by a lopsided massacre. A great burst of fresh blood spilled on the ground, turning purple-red in the twilight, as if the Netherworld had descended upon the earth.

 Chapter 621 - 317: Blocking the Valley Entrance

    The purple sunset turned to red, and the green valley mouth was drenched in fresh blood. Three thousand rodent-like tribal people faced directly against two thousand leopard-and-tiger-like Imperial Guards along the rolling mountain pass.


    Under the flag of Black Wolf, the Imperial Guard Warriors formed a battle formation, swinging their war clubs in unison, forcefully slashing at the enemy¡¯s heads, necks, and abdomens. The Canine Descendants Tribes fell like cornstalks, splashing out bursts of vitality. The tribal people¡¯s formation was loose, their morale low, lacking war experience, and they posed almost no threat. They thrust their stone spears, leaving only shallow punctures in the warriors¡¯ cotton armor, before being killed by the sharp war clubs. The frantic sounds of slaughter carried on the wind, soon turning into the moans of the dying and the screams of terror.


    Within just moments of the battle, more than three hundred Canine Descendants had fallen. The tribal formation expanded like a balloon and fell into disarray, as people continuously turned and fled. Thousands of Red Fox warriors in the rear showed no mercy, firing bone arrows that drove the frightened tribes back to the front lines. Then, from a distance of forty or fifty steps, they launched volleys of arrows, vigorously harassing the warriors¡¯ ranks.


    "Charge with me!"


    Bertade glanced at the Red Fox warriors holding the line and then led three hundred Jaguar Warriors in a personal assault, charging into the enemy¡¯s ranks!


    The Head Warrior moved with agile steps and quick actions, without any superfluous movements, striking directly at vital points. He wielded his war club with agility, cutting through the neck of a Canine Descendant, then with a horizontal blow, cleaving another Canine Descendant¡¯s head. In just over a dozen breaths, he had killed several men! The Canine Descendants died instantly, without even leaving behind a cry of agony.


    Afterwards, three hundred Jaguar Warriors let out a roar and charged together! The warriors, clad in tiger skins, burst into the fray, slashing wildly as if they were in a land with no one to oppose them. Faced with this kind of assault, the Canine Descendants Tribes couldn¡¯t hold on any longer. They let out screams of extreme fear, like balloons expanded to their limits, bursting suddenly and scattering in all directions!


    "Continue the charge!"


    Bertade did not stop. He discarded his worn Obsidian Club and drew the Bronze Qin Sword from his waist, striding towards the Red Fox warriors. Droplets of blood fell from the sharp edges of obsidian, sinking into the increasingly dark red earth, just like the evening sky.


    "Ao! Thick-skinned Chieftain!"


    Ivican squinted and shot out a bone arrow with force. The sharp arrow only grazed Bertade¡¯s copper armor, barely scratching the cloth. The Head Warrior paused slightly, glanced at Ivican¡¯s red hair, and then charged straight towards him.


    "Swoosh swoosh swoosh!"


    The red-haired warriors fired a volley of arrows. The charging Jaguar Warriors didn¡¯t stop. Bone arrows stuck in their cloth armor, but they suffered no harm. The warriors ran like fierce beasts, and within moments they were within thirty steps, all raising their war clubs and letting out a pre-battle roar.


    "Roar!"


    Ivican¡¯s pupils constricted instantly, and he turned to flee.


    "Ao! Thick-headed Tiger Warrior! Retreat quickly!"


    The red-haired captain sprinted away like an agile Red Fox. Over two hundred Tribal Scouts also turned and ran. They had clashed with the Tiger Warriors before and knew well the ferocity of their opponents. Without a significant numerical advantage, it was impossible to defeat a large group of the elite thick-skinned. The remaining Red Fox warriors, either confident of their bravery or unable to react in time, were directly killed as the Jaguar Warriors broke into their ranks.


    A Jaguar Warrior slashed sideways, slicing through a red-haired warrior¡¯s Cotton Armor and gashing his chest and abdomen. The red-haired warrior screamed in agony as he fell, desperately clutching at the torn wound, staining his hands bright red. His life¡¯s blood streamed out, mixed with his viscera. He was silenced within moments.


    Witnessing this, two Tribal Warriors closed in. They thrust their Stone Spears with all their might, striking the Jaguar Warrior¡¯s chest and back, producing a "clang" of metal but failing to penetrate the armor. The Jaguar Warrior sneered with a smile, gripped his club with both hands, and fiercely swept it across. The warrior in front of him let out a blood-curdling groan; his neck twisted at a ninety-degree angle as he fell dead, askew. The other, a young warrior, showed terror on his face and, eventually, turned to flee.


    The Jaguar Warrior¡¯s eyes flashed with killing intent. Clad in Medium Armor, he did not pursue but instead reached for the Bronze Javelin strapped to his back, took two steps forward, and hurled it with great force.


    "Thud!"


    The sharp javelin followed a precise trajectory, accurately piercing the young warrior¡¯s back and pinning his entire body to the ground. The young warrior writhed on the soil like an insect spiked to the earth, unable to move a step. Warm blood gushed forth, his screams piercing the air, yet no one cared as his cries slowly faded to silence.


    Bertade stepped forward, thrusting his right hand forward and stabbing a warrior wielding a Stone Hammer. Then, he stepped back, sheathed his sword, gripped it with both hands, and delivered a diagonal slash downward! The head of a red-haired warrior rolled onto the ground. The Head Warrior, impassive, halted his advance, his armor soaked with blood, the Copper Sword in his hand crimson. He had cut through the enemy ranks; before him, there were no more foes, only hundreds of fleeing Red Fox warriors!


    "Whiz, whiz, whiz!"


    Thousands of Imperial Guards dropped their War Clubs and raised their Longbows, unleashing a volley of arrows. Dozens of Red Fox warriors, with their backs to the rain of arrows, cried out and toppled to the ground. The Red Fox warriors fled desperately and were hit by two more rounds of Feathered Arrows, leaving behind dozens of corpses. Only then did the remaining warriors escape the range of fire, becoming tiny specks in the distance, soon far away.


    "These Canine Warriors are useless in formation but extremely fast when fleeing!"


    Bertade, holding his Eight-Sided Qin Sword, watched for a moment and then smiled subtly. He then raised his Copper Sword and gently wiped it with his finger, admiring the shiny, sharp edge.


    "Having killed several men and still without a scratch, truly a fine weapon! Hmm, with the Copper Sword being short and sharp, I should focus on thrusting, supported by the Great Shield for defense."


    The Head Warrior looked up at the sky. After a fierce battle, the sunset had fallen to the horizon, and the sky was growing dim. He surveyed his surroundings; the ground was littered with over a thousand fallen Canine Descendants. Scattered tribe members were everywhere, alongside many wounded who could hardly move. Around a hundred trusted aides were searching the battlefield, occasionally delivering a finishing blow.


    Bertade nodded and turned his gaze to the valley entrance not far north. Silhouettes were flickering at the entrance as the Canine Descendants Tribes, carrying large and small bundles, emerged once more. They glanced at the southern battlefield and, in terror, fled northward, utterly devoid of the will to fight.


    "One thousand five hundred Imperial Guards, follow me to block the valley path and take the encampment! Four hundred Imperial Guards, pursue the scattered tribe members until nightfall, then return! The remaining hundred, tally the battlefield, and tend to the wounded!"


    With a loud command, the Head Warrior led a large contingent of the Imperial Guard toward the valley entrance. Hundreds more of the Canine Descendants desperately scattered in flight. The Mexica warriors surged forward with ferocity, cutting off the entrance, leaving the Canine Descendants in the valley like rats in a trap, with no more strength to escape!


    The darkness of night fell quickly. In this battle, of the three thousand Canine Descendants, one thousand three hundred were killed or wounded, leaving behind more than eight hundred unarmed tribe members and over five hundred Red Fox warriors. The two thousand strong Imperial Guard suffered only a scant few dozen casualties.


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 Chapter 622 - 318: Surrender

    "Your Highness, an envoy from the Red Frog Tribe has arrived, seeking an audience with you. He is currently waiting in the main camp!"


    The night was dim, the sky filled with stars, and the valley¡¯s entrance camp was lit by fire. Balda, clad in eagle warrior attire, strode into the medical tent and reported to His Highness. He stole a glance around and saw only two people in the tent. His Highness stood in the center, his expression stern, his face showing barely contained anger. Black Wolf Torc lay on a straw bed, his face full of shame, having clearly just been scolded harshly. Seeing this, Balda smirked slightly and chuckled to himself.


    "An envoy from the Red Frog Tribe? Coming at night?... Hmm."


    Xiulote paused to think for a moment and then slightly nodded, once again looking at the ashamed Black Wolf.


    He had just dismissed everyone else to scold Torc alone. As a Legion Commander, how could he recklessly charge to the frontline, gambling with life and death? Regarding the forceful attack at the valley entrance and the loss of eight hundred Imperial Guards, it was merely a matter of being too fierce in battle and needed some pointers. Now, since Balda was present, it would be inappropriate to continue scolding so harshly to prevent his beloved warrior from becoming a laughing stock among the others. In fact, a great general should not be humiliated in front of others, or else it would be like the enemy is in Honnoji...


    The King¡¯s anger subsided as he looked at his trusted aide and grasped his hair.


    "Torc, my Black Wolf! On your recent expedition north, you were courageous and excelled in battle, breaking through enemy camps and earning many merits! The Central Legion struck through the wilderness like Jaguars, showing the Guajili Canine Descendants the might of the Alliance... However, a blade too sharp is easily broken; a cornstalk too tall bears little fruit. The same applies to warfare, where fierceness must be balanced with gentleness, and battles demand consideration of timing and circumstances. You must not rush too hastily..."


    "Rest well! Black Wolf, I will send you a scroll of my marching notes with some insights from last year¡¯s campaign to the west. Take this opportunity while you recover to read and reflect slowly. This injury is not necessarily a bad thing... Hmm, once you have recovered, I will let you lead the legion again!"


    "Ah, Your Highness! I am willing to die for you!"


    Overcome with emotion, Torc turned over, prostrating himself before His Highness.


    Xiulote smiled, patted Black Wolf on the shoulder, and then turned to leave. Balda, envious, cast a glance at Black Wolf and followed His Highness out.


    Starlight fell on the nearby mountains, and a melancholy song lingered in the wind. The King paused in front of the large tent, looking towards the distant Red Fox Valley, before finally entering through the tent flaps.


    In the tent, eight trusted aides, solemn and draped in Copper Armor, stood guard. In the corner was the envoy from the Red Frog Tribe, who had been waiting for a long time. Xiulote looked at the envoy, who was short and stout with a rough face. Though he tried to squeeze out a smile, he couldn¡¯t hide the aura of combativeness.


    The King surveyed the envoy and then calmly sat at the head of the tent. Balda, holding his weapon, stood guard on either side. The tent was quiet, filled with a solemn murderous intent.


    After a long while, the envoy from the Red Frog Tribe could no longer restrain himself. He reverently looked at Xiulote and cautiously spoke.


    "Ahem... Respected God of Death, Great Chief! Your mana is as boundless as the sky, your warriors numerous and brave like the mountains. The Red Frog Tribe, along with twenty thousand Tribesmen from the valley, wish to honor you as the supreme Great Chief and fight under your banner!"


    "Oh? The Red Frog Tribe wants to surrender?"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression remained calm, his voice deep.


    "Then hand over all your weapons and come out from your mountain camps to accept your fate."


    "Surrender... no, I have come to negotiate! God of Death, Chief, there are still twenty thousand valiant Guajili people in the valley! We also have camps on both the eastern and western mountain sides! Our crops have been harvested and can sustain us for months!"


    The envoy from the Red Frog Tribe widened his eyes, speaking vehemently.


    "Although the Cactus Tribe is brave, to take the valley, you would have to suffer thousands of casualties! In the East, in Pamus City, we still have tens of thousands of reinforcements soon to arrive! When they do, we will strike from both inside and out, and it will be you who falls!"


    "Oh? Then go back, tell the Red Frog Chieftain. He can continue to hold the valley! Tomorrow the army will attack, and I want to see how long he can hold out."


    Xiulote glanced at the fiercely growling envoy and shook his head slightly. After all, being a Canine Descendant, this peace-seeking envoy was as rigid as a warrior, utterly unqualified.


    The envoy from the Red Frog Tribe faltered in his words, unable to speak for a while. Only after some time did he manage to bow his head, reluctantly.


    "God of Death Great Chief, as long as you spare the Red Frog Tribe and allow the Red Frog Chieftain to continue leading this tribe, we will hand over the camps and the valley, and surrender with more than twenty thousand of the Guajili Tribe to you!"


    "Oh? Spare the Red Frog Tribe, and continue as Chieftain?"


    Xiulote smiled faintly.


    "How many people are in the main part of the Red Frog Tribe, and how many able-bodied individuals do you wish to retain?" Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Seven thousand... no, just six thousand able-bodied individuals! The other more than ten Tribes, sixteen or seventeen thousand people, will all be at your disposal! Moreover, the Red Frog Chieftain will also lead the warriors of this tribe to fight for you!"


    "Six thousand able-bodied individuals... sixteen or seventeen thousand Tribes..."


    The King became serious and pondered slightly before asking again.


    "The main part of the Red Frog Chieftain has only six thousand; how can it decide for more than twenty thousand Tribes? There are three Great Tribes in the valley. The Red Fox Tribe has fled, the Red Frog Tribe wants to surrender, so what does the Red Cat Tribe plan to do?"


    "God of Death Great Chief, our Red Frog Tribe now controls the valley with several thousand warriors! Whatever the Red Cat Tribe plans, it is inconsequential."


    The Red Frog Envoy straightened his back, his face confident.


    "The camps at the east and west valley entrances are in our hands. Just by relinquishing the camps and the Red Frog Tribe taking the lead in submission, other Tribes will have no choice but to surrender as well!"


    "Hmm..."


    Xiulote looked at the Red Frog Envoy with interest again.


    "Retaining six thousand able-bodied individuals is somewhat too many, better I take them myself!"


    "Five thousand able-bodied people... no, just four thousand!"


    The Red Frog Envoy¡¯s eyes widened as he shouted anxiously.


    "The Red Frog Tribe only asks to preserve four thousand able-bodied individuals. We will hand over the valley, return north to the Wilderness, and no longer raid to the south! God of Death Great Chief, we will also submit to you and fight under your banner!"


    "Oh?"


    Xiulote smiled faintly. He looked at the anxious Red Frog Envoy and said with a smile.


    "The Red Frog Tribe¡¯s surrender, sparing four thousand able-bodied individuals. This condition is acceptable. However, with the Red Frog Chieftain leading the charge south, he must accept punishment! Tell the Red Frog Tribe, hand over the chieftain¡¯s head, hand over the camps and the valley, and they may return to the Wilderness!"


    "How could this be possible! How could the Red Frog Chieftain die!"


    The Red Frog Envoy immediately stood erect, hopping anxiously.


    "Great Chief, the Red Frog Chieftain is brave and good in battle, willing to die for you!"


    "Oh?"


    The smile on Xiulote¡¯s face grew more intense.

 Chapter 623 - Three Hundred and Nineteen: Night Talk

    The campfire flickered within the encampment, causing darkness to ebb and flow. The Red Frog Envoy looked visibly unsettled, while Xiulote was brimming with laughter. As their eyes met, the envoy shivered, speaking up with a hint of fear.


    "Ah, wise Great Chief! I am from the Red Frog Tribe..."


    At this point, the envoy paused, his eyes wide as he looked at Xiulote. He hesitated for a long while but eventually mustered his courage.


    "Greetings to you, honorable God of Death Great Chief! I am Keka, the battle-hardened Chieftain of the Red Frog Tribe!"


    "Oh, Chieftain Keka!"


    Xiulote remained composed, nodding slowly. He had already anticipated this answer. The King pondered for a while, then waved at his trusted aides around him.


    "Release him."


    The aides let go and stepped back, and Keka collapsed to the ground as his strength left him.


    "Keka, why have you come yourself? Are you not afraid of being discovered by the Alliance and sacrificed to the divinities on the spot?"


    Xiulote asked with a smile. He was quite interested in this Red Frog Chieftain. The man had managed to defend his camp against the onslaught of Clay Tribulus and withstand the Black Wolf¡¯s attack, even wounding his favored commander. Now he dared to come in person as an envoy to meet directly with him... Putting other things aside, there was indeed an animal-like acuteness, tenacity, and bravery about him.


    At the mention of sacrifice, the Red Frog Chieftain trembled. He kept his kneeling posture and looked up as he shouted.


    "Great Chief, only by coming in person can I show my sincerity in surrendering!"


    "Oh? But at the start, you did not voluntarily reveal your identity. Playing such a hide-and-seek game, you might as well be sacrificed! With the Red Frog Tribe suddenly losing its leader, it will be in chaos. Tomorrow would be a good day for a decisive battle!"


    Xiulote shook his head and chuckled. He looked into the round eyes of the Red Frog Chieftain and threatened coldly.


    Keka was at a loss for words for a moment, then fearing for his life, he lay prostrate on the ground and shouted with a trembling voice.


    "Great Chief, I revere your power and truly wish to submit to you! The reason I did not reveal my identity right away is that I had wounded your Great General in the previous battle. I did not dare to be honest with you without your promise of safety..."


    "I am willing to lead the tribes of the Valley in surrender, to fight for you! I am also willing to make the tribes of the Wilderness acknowledge you as their sovereign! Great Chief, your ambition is as lofty as the sky, and your magnanimity as vast as the Wilderness! I am the first Coyote of the Wilderness to surrender to you; why must you kill me and dishearten your warriors?"


    "Fight for me, sovereign of the Wilderness?..."


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote fell into contemplation. He watched the Red Frog Chieftain¡¯s sincere demeanor but inquired about something else.


    "Keka, in the battle at the valley¡¯s entrance, when you first faced the explosive Divine Power Globes, did you not feel fear toward the divinity? How did you think quickly and find a way to respond?"


    "Uh..."


    Keka¡¯s eyes widened with surprise. He lifted his head and looked cautiously at Xiulote.


    "So those were Divine Power Globes? I thought they were the witchcraft, no, Divine Arts... of the Cactus Tribe. Of course, divinities should be feared, but how can one be distracted on the battlefield? One must survive first, then sacrifice some birds and beasts... As for the response, as long as you keep the witch... Divine Arts from landing inside the camp, they can¡¯t harm the encampment. I was watching very closely..."


    "Hmm, not bad."


    Xiulote sized up the Red Frog Chieftain once more, his interest evident.


    "Keka, have you seen herds of great beasts running across the Wilderness?"


    "Ah? I have. The Priest of our tribe said that these great beasts mostly roam the distant northeastern plains, with a few occasionally coming to the Coahuila Wilderness. They are immensely powerful and swift runners, making them difficult to capture. But if you kill just one, it¡¯s enough to feed a hundred people for two days."


    Facing the Great Chief¡¯s question, Keka was somewhat puzzled. However, since he couldn¡¯t figure it out, he just gave up trying and answered honestly.


    "Hmm."


    Xiulote nodded slightly, pondered for a moment, and asked again.


    "Keka, how would you deal with it if you encountered foreign tribes riding these great beasts, claiming to be incarnations of divinities? They possess weapons that roar like thunderbolts, and armor that is difficult to penetrate; what would you do?"


    "Uh? Tribes riding great beasts? Wouldn¡¯t that mean a lot of meat, enough for the tribe to eat for a long time..."


    Keka stared with wide eyes, reaching toward his waist only to remember that their weapons had been confiscated. After a moment¡¯s thought, he cautiously spoke again.


    "Since it is a Divine Being, it¡¯s natural to be careful and submissive to show submission," he said.


    "What if they want to steal your food, kill your men, and plunder your women?"


    "Ah! Are there many of them? Can they fly?" Keka asked.


    "Not many and they can¡¯t fly," was the reply. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Then there¡¯s no need to run, just kill them directly!" Keka exclaimed, a fierce glint appearing in his eyes. He glanced at Xiulote and then cautiously lowered his head, whispering an explanation.


    "Great Chief, the Priests of the wilderness often say that nature is a rotating circle, everything in the world has weaknesses, Divine Arts and Witchcraft have flaws. A giant beast cannot run through the mountains, Thunderbolts cannot strike all the time. And thick skin can¡¯t cover the eyes or prevent falls... Even a Divine Being can be tried for killing. If not killed, then running is it¡­"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote stared at Keka¡¯s face for a long while without speaking.


    The Red Fox Chieftain Huitu had an earthy face but bore an innate wildness, as cunning as a beast in survival, and a heart unafraid of deities... In some respects, he truly was a rare general worthy of employment.


    King pondered for a moment and finally made his decision.


    "Keka, do you believe in deities, willing to sacrifice for deities?" he asked.


    "Ah, this... I¡­"


    Keka¡¯s expression changed and it took a while before he reluctantly answered.


    "All things have spirits... Deities, of course, I believe in. To sacrifice for deities, let¡¯s wait until I¡¯m about to die... Ah, Great Chief, I swear on my ancestors, I am willing to fight for you, to die for you!"


    Keka threw himself to the ground once more, clutching at Xiulote¡¯s legs.


    "Great Chief, please accept my surrender! The Red Fox Tribe only asks to preserve four thousand able-bodied individuals, to keep the life of the Chieftain! The whole Red Fox Valley, and the tens of thousands of other Tribes, I will offer to you!"


    "Good. Keka, rise. I accept your surrender, forgive your trespasses, and preserve your Tribes and your life!"


    Xiulote waved his hand, signaling Balda to put away their weapons. Aides stepped forward and forcibly lifted the Red Fox Chieftain to his feet. The King looked into his eyes and said with a smile,


    "You said you wanted to fight for me, so I will give you that opportunity! Keka, the Chief Divine needs a Noble Chief as Sacrifices... You go back, I¡¯ll give you one day to bind the Red Cat Chieftain, then submit and surrender the camp!"


    Upon hearing this, a look of joy crossed Keka¡¯s face. However, after a few moments, a hint of hesitation appeared.


    "Great Chief, your promise... the witness..." he said.


    "Hmm?"


    Xiulote looked coldly at him, and the Red Fox Chieftain prostrated himself once again, refusing to rise. The King thought for a moment before raising the Divine Staff and slowly saying,


    "Keka, I swear upon the honor of my ancestors, I accept your surrender and promise you a future!"


    "Great Chief, under the ancestors¡¯ witness, I shall surely die for you!" Keka exclaimed with great joy, kowtowing heavily several times before getting up to leave.


    "I will return to the camp now and bring Mizili to you bound!"


    Xiulote gave a faint smile and nodded slightly. He watched as Keka lifted the tent flap and, accompanied by the trusted aides, disappeared into the deep darkness. Then, the King turned and gave a stern command.


    "Order the Craftsmen to inspect the wooden cannons and Gunpowder! Command the trusted aide camp to check the Gunpowder and Fire Arrows! Distribute the copper armor in the camp to the warriors ready for a trap! Dispatch Pamus Samurai to blockade the south and north mountain paths. Also send orders to Bertade, have the entire army ready one day and meet with the Chalki reinforcement forces. If the Guajili people do not surrender, by early morning the day after next, a two-pronged force will attack the camp!"


    The trusted aides bowed their heads, their faces filled with a murderous intent as they departed.


    The moon faded behind the Mountains, and dawn lit up the sky, marking the arrival of a new day. Mexica legions at the east and west valley mouths were gradually awakening. Thousands of Samurai prepared for battle like fierce beasts showing their fangs. By the afternoon of the next day, Chalki Great Chieftain¡¯s vanguard of reinforcement forces finally reached the northwest valley mouth, with more than two thousand Pamus Samurai blocking the mountain paths to the south and north of the Valley.

 Chapter 624 - 320: Pacifying the Valley

    The sun hung low in the western sky, the clouds were tinged with red, and the mountains also glowed with a reddish hue. The Red Fox Tribe fled alone, as the Cactus Tribe¡¯s army bore down on them, completely sealing off the Red Fox Valley. The Canine Descendant Tribes were in turmoil; each individual¡¯s face showed panic and confusion as chaotic shouting erupted all around.


    Amidst the changing sentiments, the disorderly situation gradually reached a boiling point. In the rearmost camp at the southeastern valley entrance, a fierce clamor and melee suddenly erupted. Then, two quarters of an hour later, the camp gates were flung wide open!


    Under the watchful eyes of thousands of Mexica samurai, Chieftain Keka of the Red Frog Tribe stepped out of the gates, personally dragging the securely bound Mizili, the Chieftain of the Red Cat Tribe, to wait on the slope of the mountain path. Behind him, over a hundred red-haired warriors escorted the leaders of the Red Cat Tribe, who also stood with bowed heads along the road.


    Shortly after, the Royal Banner of the Black Wolf arrived at the gates along the valley road. Xiulote waved the command flag, and two thousand samurai in armor gripping clubs entered the camp, taking control of the strategic point at the valley mouth. Following that, the King issued a deep command, and several hundred trusted aides stepped forward with weapons to take custody of the prisoners and then lead the two chieftains to the foot of the Royal Banner.


    "Respectable Great Chief, God of Death! Keka greets you and is willing to submit to you, to become a minor chieftain under your command!"


    Keka, dragging the captive, was still several steps away from the Royal Banner when he suddenly knelt down and called out in salute.


    "I offer you the highest-ranking captive from the valley!"


    Xiulote nodded slightly. He gestured with his hand, signaling Keka to come closer.


    "Is this Red Cat Chieftain Mizili?"


    Keka nodded and yanked on Mizili¡¯s red hair, forcing him to raise his head so that the Great Chief could see clearly.


    "Ah!"


    A pained cry escaped Mizili, his face pale and his heart ashen. He had agreed with Otuwa on a joint retreat, but then Otuwa abandoned him and left first with the tribe. He had never thought much of Keka, yet it was Keka who had bound him and presented him to the Aztecs. Proud of his intelligence, he had been betrayed twice and now found himself a hapless prisoner, his life hanging by a thread. As he thought about the Aztecs¡¯ ritual sacrifices, he finally couldn¡¯t help trembling.


    Xiulote scrutinized the captive Red Cat Chieftain closely. Observing his trembling figure, the King first shook his head, then nodded slightly.


    "Take him away and keep him under guard in the camp. Hmm, also dispatch a priest to guide his spirit." sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The trusted aide immediately took the order and led the numb Mizili away. Keka hesitated briefly, then ventured hesitantly to speak.


    "Great Chief, what will become of Mizili? Will he be sacrificed?"


    At these words, Xiulote looked at Keka with a smile that was not quite a smile.


    "Keka, do you wish for him to be sacrificed?"


    "Ah, I will heed all of the Great Chief¡¯s decisions!"


    The Red Frog Chieftain instantly stiffened, closing his mouth and bowing his head in salute.


    He personally bound Mizili and surrendered, tying them both in a death feud. In the eyes of the wilderness people, it was better to kill such irreconcilable enemies sooner rather than later. Besides, with Mizili dead, there would be only one leader left in the valley. As long as he stayed low and obedient, once the Aztec left, wouldn¡¯t there be great opportunities for him? With three thousand tribal warriors in hand, what were six thousand or four thousand people? They could all be replenished from the common tribes! By borrowing the might of the Aztec, he might even rise further.


    Thinking this, Keka became even more subservient. He knelt respectfully on the ground, his face full of smiles.


    Xiulote pondered for a moment. He had some thoughts regarding Mizili¡¯s arrangement. The king continued to look toward Keka.


    "Keka, how are the various tribes in the valley?"


    "Great Chief, there are more than a dozen tribes in the valley, over twenty thousand people in total. More than half are under the control of my Red Frog Tribe! The rest are either fleeing to find a way to survive or sitting in their camps, waiting. I beseech the Great Chief to send a large army into the valley!"


    "Very well! Have your tribal warriors lead the way. The army will enter the valley immediately to take the surrender of the valley tribes!"


    Xiulote¡¯s face revealed a smile. He took off the Sun Amulet around his neck, awarded it to the Chieftain of the Red Frog, and then personally helped him up from the ground.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! Bestow glory and a future upon you. Keka, you have done well. From today on, follow by my side, taking on the role of a trusted aide for the time being!"


    Upon hearing this, Keka was stunned, and his expression changed. He touched the strange amulet wrapped around his neck as if his throat was being grasped.


    "Great Chief... I... I must return to my tribe..."


    "Let your trusted aide take over for the time being! Keka, you are familiar with the details of the various tribes, and can assist the army in the northern campaign. Once we defeat the Red Dog Alliance of the East, you may return to the tribe. What, are you unwilling?"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression grew cold, watching Keka. The Red Frog Chieftain fell to his knees with a "thump," like a toad prostrating on the ground.


    "Willing, certainly willing! Since the Great Chief values me, I will exert my utmost to serve unto death! Great Chief, your Mana is boundless, and your brave warriors are as numerous as cactus spines. How could Chichika of the Red Dog stand a chance? Once the Great Chief conquers the Northern Land, I will guard the wilderness for you!"


    Xiulote smiled again. He waved the Royal Banner, and the call to march sounded immediately.


    The Mexica vanguard passed the rear camp and emerged from the narrow valley mouth, and the fertile valley suddenly unfolded before their eyes! Thousands of Samurai in the central army, with stern expressions, hastened their march and entered in succession. Guided by the Red Frog Tribe, they divided into camps of a thousand and headed toward various tribal encampments.


    At the northwest valley mouth, the Red Frog warriors guarding the camp also received orders. They morosely stepped aside from the camp, laying down their weapons and surrendering to the Allied Forces. Bertade, with the Imperial Guards, led Chalki¡¯s eight thousand warriors of the western army into the valley, spreading out to accept the surrender of the tribes.


    The Red Fox fled, the Red Cat was captured, and the Red Frog surrendered; the three great tribes could resist no more. Other tribes in the valley also lost their will to fight and bowed their heads one after another to the Allied Forces. There was even a minor incident; a few common tribes held their ground, fighting desperately, refusing to surrender to the Otomi Warriors. But when the Mexica Samurai arrived, they opened their camp gates, dropped their weapons, and surrendered to the banner of the Black Wolf.


    When the news arrived, it was sunset. Xiulote reflected momentarily, then sent his trusted aides to oversee the Otomi encampments, forbidding slaughter of the surrendered Guajili Tribe. Then, he dispatched priests with the army to comfort the surrendered Guajili Canine Descendants. Bertade received orders to be stationed in the central city, taking control of the entire valley. As for the king himself, he remained at the northeast valley mouth, waiting for the valley to stabilize.


    In the blink of an eye, another two days passed, and the Red Fox Valley was finally in the hands of the Allied Forces. The banner of the Black Wolf fluttered everywhere in the valley, and a large number of Canine Descendants were closely watched. The surrendered Guajili Tribe totaled over twenty thousand, mostly able-bodied men and women, half and half, the rest were children, with almost no elderly or weak. Around two to three thousand liberated Otomi Agricultural Slaves were also arranged to continue farming in the valley.


    Order was restored in the valley, with no Canine Descendants causing chaos or collisions. Only then did Xiulote, with his trusted aides and led by Keka, step into the Red Fox Valley.

 Chapter 625 - 321: Northern Strategy, Inspecting the Valley

    The wind was robust and the flags soared high as the marching Samurai maintained a grave composure, the clangor of their armor striking forcefully, demonstrating the King¡¯s power. Xiulote led a thousand trusted aides to inspect the valley, observing the captives¡¯ situation while pondering the management of the various Tribes.


    Along the way, as far as the eye could see, winding rivers flowed through the valley, flanked by lush corn fields. The Otomi Agricultural Slaves numbly bowed their heads, clearing the scattered debris, corpses, and bloodstains in the valley. Tens of thousands from the Guajili Tribe had laid down their weapons, doffed their Cotton Armor, and were held in separate camps under watch. Unknown fears were etched on their faces, yet as the Royal Banner passed, the Canine Descendants lowered their heads, showing reverence to the mighty.


    Seeing the bowing Guajili, Xiulote nodded in satisfaction. This Northern Expedition was in response to an invitation from the Otomi people, to resist the southward advance of the Canine Descendants. But by now, the King¡¯s ambition had inflated. He yearned to control the Northern Land as much as possible and to establish a preliminary suzerain rule among the Canine Descendants Tribes.


    The King ascended a hill and looked North. At the end of the undulating Mountains, was the boundless Northern Wilderness. It stretched two thousand li from East to West, and over two thousand li from North to South, adjoining the Great Plains of North America. Apart from the eight Canine Descendants Tribes, many more fragmented Tribes hunted in the North, chasing the herds of wild bison and migrating deep into the Great Plains.


    To conquer the Northern Land required constant warfare and the spread of influence. The first step was to subdue the Otomi as vassals and continue assimilation. The second step was to defeat the southward-moving Canine Descendants and establish prestige among the Wilderness Tribes. The third step was to extend Northward, grasp important strongholds, and use these as a base to implement suzerain control over surrounding Tribes, while also engaging in trade and missionary work.


    The above three steps were the objectives Xiulote needed to achieve with this Northern Expedition. With the foundation set by the first three steps, the fourth would be to emulate the Spaniards of a later era, encourage settlement and agriculture along the border, persuade the Canine Descendants Tribes to settle and farm, grant them partial autonomy, and gradually incorporate them into the Empire¡¯s governing territory. The vastness of the Wilderness meant conquest was an extremely prolonged process, a vision for a lifetime.


    However, according to the trajectory of history, Western colonizers would arrive within a decade or so, dispersing horses across the Wilderness. Then within half a century, the entire Northern Wilderness and the Great Plains of North America would be populated with millions of horses. All the Tribes of the Wilderness would mount horses, evolving from hunting Tribes to nomadic Tribes. By then, the difficulty of conquering the Northern Land would exponentially increase.


    "Therefore, we must conquer the North as early as possible. However, the Alliance¡¯s strength is limited, while the land of North America is boundless, not to mention the unpredictable cold currents. Let me think, how exactly did the Khans rule the steppes?"


    After reflecting for a moment, Xiulote shook his head slightly. He again turned his gaze to the valley, and it was a while before he spoke.


    "Keka, what do you primarily eat on the Kolawea Wilderness?"


    "What do we eat?"


    Hearing this question, Keka stared with wide eyes, dumbfounded. After a moment, he began counting on his fingers as he replied.


    "The Tribe eats whatever we find as we go! This includes roots, wild vegetables, corn, beans, squash, wild fruits that grow in the soil. When the climate is favorable, the Priests have everyone plant some crops, waiting a season to harvest. The unplantable ones that are all over include rabbits, deer, birds, frogs, snakes, worms, moles, rats, ants, and lizards. If the harvest is really poor and there¡¯s nothing to eat, we have no choice but to wage war against other Tribes, capturing people from other Tribes..."


    Xiulote nodded calmly and thoughtfully. After a while, he asked another question.


    "Keka, compared to the Wilderness, how is the Otomi land?"


    "Much better! Everyone said after arriving, had they known, they would have moved South earlier to take the Otomi land. There¡¯s more Water here, more grass, and the soil is fertile, with high crop yields. Just one season¡¯s planting can feed Tribe members for most of the year. Great Chief, before you advanced North, everyone was ready to have more children and settle down here..."


    Keka scratched his head, a hint of bitterness on his face.


    "Hmm, Keka."


    Xiulote smiled faintly, his gaze fixed on the eyes of the Red Frog Chieftain.


    "If I asked you to lead your Tribe to farm further South, would you be willing? The land there is even more fertile, and as long as you work in the fields, you can eat well all year round."


    "As long as we work in the fields, we can eat well all year round..."


    Upon hearing this, a semblance of yearning appeared on Keka¡¯s face, but he quickly became cautious again, replying carefully.


    "Great Chief, the Wilderness Tribes and Southern Tribes are different, we are not adept at farming and are accustomed to migrating. Ordinary Tribespeople might be content to dig for food in the fields, but the warriors of the Tribe rather prefer to obtain food with their Hunting Bows..."


    "Great Chief, the people of the Wilderness are born warriors, and I am willing to grasp the Hunting Bow and fight for you!"


    Xiulote fell silent in thought. Indeed, the Canine Descendants of the Wilderness were natural warriors, excellent Hunters, and the finest Light Infantry. After this battle, with enough prisoners and sufficient prestige established, it was time to form a few thousand-strong battalions of Canine Descendants. His expression turned solemn, and he looked at Keka once again.


    "Keka, how many warriors does your Red Frog Tribe have now?"


    "Two thousand... no, three thousand."


    Keka looked at the Great Chief¡¯s serious expression, trembled slightly, but still answered truthfully.


    "Once the army has settled in the Valley, it will march out again to subdue the Red Dog Alliance in the northeast. Keka, all three thousand warriors of the Red Frog Tribe must join the campaign!"


    "Ah, Great Chief, I am willing to lead the Tribes and fight with all my might for you!"


    At this point, Keka¡¯s eyes flickered.


    "Please let me return to prepare the warriors of the Tribe..."


    "There¡¯s no need. Keka, you and the Tribe¡¯s Chieftains will stay by my side and serve as trusted aides. Hmm, I¡¯ve heard from the Chieftains that you have a red-haired trusted aide named Miwa who is also skilled in battle. Let him lead the three thousand warriors!"


    "Ah? Great Chief, Miwa is very blunt, how can he compare to me? He doesn¡¯t know how to fight, he only knows how to charge with the warriors!..."


    Keka¡¯s expression changed as he hurriedly explained.


    "Blunt, only knows how to charge?"


    Xiulote showed a hint of a smile.


    "Very well, that¡¯s enough. The Red Frog warriors just need to charge with all their might, no matter how many casualties there are, I will replenish your forces!"


    Having said that, the King spoke no more and strode forward. Surrounded by his Escort, he inspected the camps of the ordinary Tribes.


    The hierarchy of an ordinary Tribe generally consists of three levels: Chieftain, warrior, and Tribal civilians. From the Chieftains to the Tribal civilians, everyone was equally poor, with very few personal possessions. The Tribe¡¯s storeroom was communal, with priority given to warriors and adult males. The mortality rate of newborns was high, with most being raised collectively. In the camps, the Chieftains¡¯ clothing was complete and colorful, especially favoring red. The warriors, on the other hand, had more robust physiques, boosted by the occasional hunted game. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Any village in the south is wealthier than the ordinary Canine Descendants Tribes. Hmm, the Guajili people are fierce and untamed and are also impoverished and desperate, treating life and death with indifference..."


    Seeing everything before him, Xiulote pondered deeply. He traveled west along the narrow Valley, visiting each encampment and appeasing the Tribal leaders. The King passed through the rudimentary small city at the center of the Valley but did not enter it. Instead, he issued a somber command.


    "In the Temple at the center of the city, erect the Emblem of the Almighty! Send the accompanying Priests to the Temple to soothe the people¡¯s minds. The captured Canine Descendants Tribes must regularly pray in the Temple!"


    The King traveled west, passing many abandoned camps, until he reached the Valley¡¯s northwest opening. Bertade¡¯s expression was solemn, having once again followed close behind His Highness. The two continued on until they arrived at a Red Crow camp.


    "Your Highness, this camp has been abandoned. Most of the Tribes from within have fled through the Valley opening."

 Chapter 626 - 322: Wilderness Legacy

    "Oh? The aged tribal priest?"


    Xiulote looked toward the camp with interest, seeing only a worn Red Crow flag and a low chieftain¡¯s longhouse, with traces of migration everywhere else. He looked for a while, then turned to the Red Frog chieftain at his side.


    "Keka, do you know this wilderness priest?"


    Keka widened his eyes, glanced at the camp¡¯s flag, and nodded.


    "It¡¯s Kakalo from the Red Crow Tribe. He is both the wilderness priest of the heritage and the chieftain of the Red Crow Tribe. The crow is a wise divine bird, so he is also a man of wisdom and mana. Great Chief, when you were traveling north, the Red Crow Tribe was the first to sense danger and the first tribe to flee!"


    "The Red Crow Tribe, the first to flee the valley? Kakalo, the crow?"


    Xiulote mulled over this Nava word. Indeed, in the culture of Central America, the crow is a divine bird that can foretell death and the future.


    "Since he is both chieftain and priest of the Red Crow Tribe, why didn¡¯t he leave with his tribe?"


    "Great Chief, the wilderness tribes are aalways migrating, and those who cannot keep up will leave forever. It is the custom of the wilderness to abandon the aged and weak with limited time left, regardless of whether they are venerated priests or chieftains."


    Keka shook his head, speaking frankly.


    "Actually, as a wilderness priest, Kakalo has already lived longer than most people."


    "Hmm."


    Xiulote nodded. He had always been intrigued by the wilderness priests. The King pondered for a moment, then decided with a smile.


    "Since he is a wilderness priest and a rare elder, let me go and meet him! Bertade, Keka, accompany me."


    The Head Warrior nodded. He made a cautious gesture, and several trusted aides, fully armed, entered the chieftain¡¯s longhouse to inspect. After a moment, the aides came out again, signalling that all was well, and then stationed themselves around the longhouse.


    Only then did Xiulote move his feet. He bowed slightly and entered the low longhouse. Sunlight filtered through the cracks, illuminating the earthen floor. The floor was scattered with bones of various animals, sculptures of wood, and carvings on stone. The scent of herbs permeated the room, and a light sniff calmed the mind.


    In a corner of the longhouse sat a white-haired priest. He wore the vestments of a priest, with a gray and aged face and listlessly slumped on the ground, holding a wooden plank in his hand. On closer inspection, the old priest¡¯s clothes were stained with blood, and his eyes were slightly closed, as if he had fallen asleep.


    The King shifted his gaze, looked past the sculptures of the moon and the wolf, and picked up a stone carving. On the small stone surface, dense figures were engraved, with a stone vessel at the center, containing square streams of water and flames. On either side of the vessel were lush flowers and fruits; above and below were sprawling grass and root systems. Further out were tree-like human figures.


    "Cough, cough... Respected God of Death Chieftain. This is the heritage carving of the wilderness priest..."


    Kakalo spoke with difficulty. The aides had already informed him of the visitor¡¯s identity.


    "Oh, a heritage carving? Respected wilderness priest, could you explain this to me?" S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Xiulote smiled warmly, approached the old priest, and sat down cross-legged. Bertade, holding a Bronze Sword, stood guard beside the King. Keka looked on with a complex expression, watching the dying Kakalo.


    Kakalo opened his murky eyes, scrutinizing the God of Death Chieftain before him, and was surprised by the other¡¯s youth.


    "Cough, cough... God of Death Chieftain, you are so young!... I have heard your name for a long time, to meet you before my death must be an arrangement of fate..."


    Kakalo sighed lightly, and then started coughing again. Xiulote took out a piece of cotton cloth from his chest and handed it to the old priest. The latter took it with difficulty, covering his mouth, and quickly stained the cloth red.


    "Cough, cough! Don¡¯t worry, the Earth Mother is calling me, she¡¯s always a bit impatient."


    The old priest said with a strained smile, looking at the carving in the King¡¯s hand.


    "God of Death Chieftain, I am willing to tell you about the spirit of the wilderness and also beseech you to treat the citizens of the wilderness kindly. The tribes that migrated south have committed many killings, not for the sake of killing, but to survive. To survive is the eternal pursuit of all the Tribes, and the mercy and cruelty of the Earth Mother."


    Xiulote slightly bowed his head, giving no response, just listening patiently.


    "Cough, cough... We come from the wilderness, we believe that all things have spirits, we love the sky, the earth, the sun, the moon, we believe in the balance and cycle of the world. The wilderness priest is one who venerates the way of nature, believing in the unity and coexistence of all things."


    "God of Death Chieftain, please look at this carving. One side of the wilderness is a world of unity and derivation, the coexistence of nature! The stone vessel symbolizes the Earth¡¯s embrace, the restraint of nature. Even water and fire can coexist in the narrow vessel. And the streams bring life, the flames bring light and heat, the Earth nurtures life... Water, fire, and earth blend together, and then lush grass grows, deep roots are set, dazzling flowers bloom, and fruitful harvests are borne. Grass, roots, flowers, fruit, these are all symbols of life¡¯s abundance."


    At this point, Kakalo paused, struggling to suppress the nauseating taste rising in his throat. Then, he continued to speak.


    "When life flourishes to its utmost, there arise trees and humans, surrounded by animals and wind. Humans are the beloved of the Earth Mother and should live like trees, facing the high winds and sunlight. Water, fire, earth, roots, flowers, fruits, trees, animals, wind, and people. All are born from the same source, coexisting with each other! They all have strengths and weaknesses, so they depend on each other..."


    At these words, Xiulote¡¯s eyes flickered. Water, fire, earth, wind, flowers, plants, trees, animals, and people¡ªit did sound like the familiar concept of "from one comes two, from two comes three, from three comes all things."


    Kakalo looked into Xiulote¡¯s eyes, pondered for a while, and then pointed to another plank painting on the pile of bones.


    "God of Death Chieftain, please look at this painting," he said.


    Xiulote raised his eyes to look, and was startled.


    At the center of the painting, there was a huge, hollow, spherical nest. The hollow sphere had an opening, and inside it was the combined shape of petals and ovary. On the inner wall of the ovary were the heads and bodies of people, forming into newborn Canine Descendants who stepped out from the opening of the sphere. The older Canine Descendants would return to the sphere, merging into the inner wall, reverting to scattered bodies once again.


    In the center of the sphere, the newborn and the dying were in conversation, greeting and taking leave of each other. At the entrance of the sphere, priests from the Wilderness were conducting ceremonies, welcoming the newborn and extolling death. Around the periphery of the sphere were busy Canine Descendants, spending their youthful days.


    "God of Death Chieftain, one aspect of the Wilderness is the cycle of birth and death, the balance of nature! The Earth Mother is a hollow cactus sphere, nurturing new life and welcoming old death. Life is in constant cycle, emerging from the Mother¡¯s womb young and healthy. He travels through the Wilderness, planting, hunting, multiplying, singing. He returns to his birth nest, old and frail. He returns his life to the Earth, his body disintegrating, dying peacefully... The spirit of the Wilderness teaches us to smile at birth, to smile at death. Birth and death are both parts of nature, both an end and a beginning, with no need for gods to control!... Cough, cough!"


    Upon hearing this, Xiulote became solemn. Such natural thought, full of the philosophy of life, was the enemy of the Divine Church. The King looked at the old priest and said calmly,


    "Respected Wilderness Priest, your words are well-spoken! I like the Wilderness tradition and feel the spirit of nature. But, throughout the whole world, including this boundless Wilderness, birth and death must be under the supreme authority of the gods, a blessing given by the gods to people! My name is Xiulote, and I am the avatar of the god of birth and death!"


    "Cough, cough!..."


    Kakalo began to cough, his expression pained. He stretched out his hand with difficulty and said to Xiulote,


    "God of Death Chieftain, the Wilderness priests have no intention of challenging your authority... The tradition of the Wilderness can be changed, as long as it can continue... I beg you, be merciful... Cough, cough!"


    The old priest coughed violently, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth, unstoppable. Shaking all over, his grip loosened, and the wooden plank he was holding rolled away.


    Xiulote glanced at the plank, his heart pounding, his pupils contracting rapidly. He saw that the plank was engraved with the black wolf head emblematic of the God of Death and three neat, square characters: "Xiulote."


    Bertade, following His Highness¡¯s gaze, also suddenly changed color. Drawing his Bronze Sword, he stepped forward swiftly, pressing it against Kakalo¡¯s chest.


    "Speak! Who taught you these three characters!" he demanded.


    "Cough, cough... Three characters?"


    "The wolf head and the inscription carved on the wooden plank! That is His Highness¡¯s emblem and true name, not to be known by outsiders!"


    Bertade¡¯s face showed a murderous intent as he placed the Bronze Sword against Kakalo¡¯s neck.


    "Speak quickly!"


    "Cough, cough, the true name of the God of Death Chieftain?!"


    Kakalo was shocked. Recalling the origin of the wolf head and characters, he couldn¡¯t help but laugh with timeless mirth, even forgetting his cough,


    "So it is! It all makes sense! Ha-ha!..."


    "Are you using witchcraft to spy on His Highness?!"


    Anger tightening his grip on the sword, Bertade was ready to slay Kakalo on the spot.


    "Bertade, let him finish," said Xiulote, waves churning inside him, though his face was as calm as a still lake. The Head Warrior then loosened his grip, stepping back slightly.


    Kakalo¡¯s wrinkles shook as he revealed a strange smile. Stretching out his hand, he pointed at Xiulote but faced toward the East,


    "Ha-ha! Life is a spinning circle, with many fates converging in the cycle!... The shadow of death comes from the south, harboring the hope of life, unknown to the common man... Hardship and challenge lie to the East, that is the arduous journey, also the node of fate!... Alan, the soul you¡¯ve been searching for all along is in the place you strive most to avoid, doomed never to meet! Cough, cough... Cough, cough... Ah!"


    After uttering this mysterious prophecy, the old priest began to cough violently again. Then, he suddenly collapsed to the ground, a great clot of blood spilling from his mouth, his body shuddered twice, and beneath the astonished eyes of all, he lay motionless.

 Chapter 627 - Three Hundred and Twenty-Three: Sending Troops

    The low longhouse was shrouded in silence, with only a faint stench of blood carried by the wind. Kakalo lay quietly on the ground, as if returning to the embrace of the Earth Mother Goddess. The mysterious words, like prophecy, weighed heavy on the hearts of the three men, leaving them unable to forget for a long time.


    Bertade stepped forward two paces and reached out to check the old Priest¡¯s breath, then turned and shook his head.


    "Your Highness, he is dead."


    Xiulote¡¯s expression was grave as he picked up the wooden plank from the ground. He looked at his own emblem and name, speechless for a long while. It was only after some time that he turned to Keka.


    "Keka, did you hear the last words of the old Priest clearly?"


    "Ah, respected God of Death, Great Chief!"


    Keka carefully glanced at the name on the plank and then at Kakalo who lay dead on the ground. Though he did not believe in deities, faced with such mystical phenomena, he still regarded it as a prophecy from a Priest of the wilderness and was filled with awe for Xiulote. The Red Frog Chieftain bowed deeply and answered.


    "Great Chief, Kakalo¡¯s last words were, ¡¯Oh Death¡¯s Flower, the soul you have always sought, is where you travel without end, always eluding capture!¡¯"


    In the language of the Chichimec people, "Al¨¢n" means "Death¡¯s Flower," "far away" also has the meaning of "travel," and "meeting" is akin to "capture."


    "Hmm, that¡¯s similar to what I heard."


    Xiulote nodded calmly, yet inside, storms of shock and bewilderment raged.


    "Knowing my name, knowing my emblem, a prophecy before dying... Death¡¯s Flower cannot capture me? Does this refer to the secret of my reincarnation?... The node of fate is in the East? Is this a prophecy that the colonizers will soon arrive?... Does the shadow of death coming from the south speak of the impending smallpox epidemic?... Does this world truly possess someone who can see through everything, foretelling the future?"


    The King was silent for a long time, immersed in thought. Bertade¡¯s demeanor was somber, while Keka respectfully bowed his head. Time in the longhouse seemed to freeze until a trusted aide came forward, bowing.


    "Your Highness, an Envoy from the Eastern army is just outside the house, with urgent military dispatches."


    At this, Xiulote was jolted from his reverie. After a moment¡¯s thought, he gave his orders in a deep voice.


    "Bertade, give this wise Priest of the wilderness a proper burial! Erect a tombstone for him and inscribe his last words upon it. Treat the Priests of the renegade tribes with care. Have them select two persons to compile the wilderness traditions, and bring those to my tent!"


    "By your will, Your Highness! I will dispatch men to check on the Priests from the wilderness."


    Bertade bowed in salute. As Xiulote had taken two steps, he seemed to recall something and turned back to ask.


    "Keka, did you say the Red Crow Tribe was the first to flee?"


    "Yes, Great Chief."


    "Where did they flee to?"


    "Uh... it should be to the north, but I am uncertain if it was to the northwest or northeast."


    Keka said, eyes wide, unable to provide a definitive answer.


    The King shook his head slightly and instructed the Head Warrior.


    "Watch for the traces of the Red Crow Tribe. It would be best to capture their lead figures!"


    "As you command, Your Highness!"


    Xiulote spoke no further, striding out of the longhouse. There were too many secrets in this world, silently buried in the dust of history. And he was destined to leave his own footprints upon the dust!


    Outside the longhouse, an Otomi Envoy was waiting. He was covered in dust, his face weary and his eyes revealing a hint of urgency. Seeing Xiulote emerge, the Envoy abruptly knelt down and cried out.


    "Your Highness! Two days ago, the eastern army was attacked by the Canine Descendants! Prince Jiowar sent me to request your support!"


    "Who is the leader of the Guajili Canine Descendants? How many tribes have come? How many warriors in total?"


    Xiulote¡¯s expression remained unchanged as he asked in a grave tone. He had anticipated the eastern army would be attacked by the Canine Descendants and had already ordered Jiowar to make an encampment for defense. Relying on the camp, even if they could not achieve victory, they would not be utterly defeated.


    "Your Highness, the leader of the Canine Descendants should be the Red Dog Chieftain Chichika. The battle has raged for two days, and the banners of five major tribes¡ªRed Dog, Red Crow, Red Deer, Red Monkey, Red Salamander¡ªhave all appeared! The enemy facing us is estimated to be between eight to ten thousand. The Red Dog Tribe has sent over two thousand, Red Crow, Red Deer, Red Monkey, Red Salamander each have over a thousand, and the rest, ordinary tribes, also add up to two thousand."


    "Eight to ten thousand?"


    Xiulote furrowed his brows. In the northeast near Pamus City, more than sixty thousand Canine Descendants were gathered, and if all able-bodied men were armed, they could mobilize up to twenty thousand at most. The number of troops dispatched suggested that the Canine Descendants still had strengths in reserve.


    "Prince Jiowar has eight thousand Samurai! His forces are comparable to the Guajili, and he has established a camp in advance. Why is he so quick to seek my aid?"


    "Your Highness, the Guajili Canine Descendants split into two groups. One is the main force, with five major tribes forming a united front directly confronting the Prince. The tribes with red-haired individuals are numerous, and they harass the camp day and night, leaving the Samurai no respite."


    The Envoy paused to catch his breath, continuing carefully.


    "The other group consists of smaller forces that harass and raid. Over two thousand warriors from ordinary tribes split into more than ten squads, circling to the southwest of the camp. These ordinary tribes are agile in their movements, scattering behind the legion¡¯s lines, constantly plundering our supply convoys! When I left, the most recent convoy carrying grain had just been completely looted, with the Militia suffering over two hundred casualties..."


    "What is Jiowar doing?"


    Hearing this, Xiulote was somewhat dissatisfied.


    "He has eight thousand Samurai at his command, and he cannot even protect his own supply route?"


    "Your Highness, per your orders, Prince Jiowar has fortified a camp for defense! The Canine Descendants attacked twice and, after losing two hundred of their number, stopped their forcible assaults. There is still half a month¡¯s supply of grain in the camp. As long as there are enough Militia to transport grain, the Canine Descendants cannot truly blockade the supply route."


    Then, the Otomi Envoy hesitated, looking at the side where Keka, the Red Frog Chieftain, quietly stepped back a few paces. Only then did the Envoy speak in a low voice.


    "Your Highness, the Prince begs for your understanding! He has only recently become the leader of the Mountain City, the Otomi King of Bird Shooting, and his prestige is not yet established, his hold over the legion still uncertain. With the Guajili Canine Descendants coming fiercely, he dares not engage in a major battle right now. A defeat would shake the morale of the troops. Even if they achieved victory and the Guajili scattered without falling apart, they often set up hidden ambushes. The former leader of Mountain City had an initial victory but later suffered defeat, being ambushed by a Divine Archer while pursuing the fleeing enemy..."


    Here, the Envoy paused, then suddenly prostrated himself, shouting aloud.


    "Your Highness, the Prince holds firm in the camp, invulnerable. He requests that you lead the main force to join him, to defeat the enemy together!"


    After a moment of contemplation, Xiulote slowly nodded. He smiled and said.


    "Becoming the leader of Mountain City for only a few months, Jiowar has indeed improved quite a lot! You go back and tell him, to hold out for another five days. Once I have stabilized the situation in the Valley, I will lead the main force to march east!"


    The following days were full of busyness. Xiulote gathered two legions, pacifying the Valley captives. He drew out one thousand Samurai and three thousand Militia from the western army to defend the Valley, managing nearly twenty thousand Canine Descendant captives. Then, the King led over ten thousand Samurai eastward, in a mighty force!


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 Chapter 628 - 324: Mountain Melee

    The long wind swept across the vast highland, and the mountain ridges undulated under the far-off sky. The rainy season had passed, and the land was dry once more. Columns of dust rose from the marching armies, morphing into different shapes in the air. A skilled general needed only to gaze from afar to know the size of the troops.


    Under the escort of a few red-haired guards, Chichika climbed the highest hill to overlook the battle situation in the valley.


    Chichika was not yet forty, with a full forehead, fierce eyes, and a sharp facial structure, carrying the power of a seasoned warrior. His face bore the deep marks of windswept wilderness; following tribal tradition, his cheeks were painted with red tattoos. He was draped in a rugged wolf robe, with a spiritual wolf¡¯s paw hanging around his neck and the feathers of birds of prey tied to his arms. At a glance, one could tell that this was a battle-hardened chieftain with a wealth of experience in the wilderness.


    Red Dog, the Chieftain, surveyed the surroundings, and the continuous range of small hills came into view. The hills were covered with rolling shallow trees and also surrounded by the large eagles of America. It was deep into autumn, yet the trees remained verdant in the shadows of the mountains, conveying a solemn and deadly mood. This was a branch of the eastern Sierra Madre mountain range, located between Pamus City and Red Fox Valley. The towering mountains eased here, transitioning into rolling hills.


    A mountain pass wound its way along the edges of the hills, stretching a hundred miles east to west. It was also possible to march on the hills, though the path was often blocked by trees, making it difficult for large groups to pass. Eight thousand Otomi Warriors were camped in units of a thousand, along the hills and the mountain road. The eight rudimentary camps stretched for miles, blocking the route west for the Canine Descendants Army.


    Countless Canine Descendants Tribes were equally encamped to the east of the mountain road, directly opposite the Otomi camps. At this moment, hundreds of red-haired warriors were closing in on the opposite camp from the hills, using the cover of the trees to exchange fire with the Otomi Archers. The whistling Arrows crisscrossed in the air, sparse in number but extremely sharp! Occasionally, warriors from both sides fell, with the grey-blue figures being the majority. The Otomi were clearly at a disadvantage in the exchange of fire.


    The annoying raids had been going on for quite some time, rendering the Otomi Warriors in the camp restless and increasingly irritable. A deep horn sounded, and the Otomi suddenly opened their camp gates. Over eight hundred Samurai in Cotton Armor shouted loudly as they rushed out of the camp, attacking the harassing Canine Warriors in the forest.


    Seeing this scene, Chichika cracked a smile, his face showing a murderous intent. He whispered an order to his trusted aides on either side.


    "Get ready to go down, using the old method of the wolf pack hunting!"


    The Chieftain¡¯s trusted aides nodded and set off to carry out their orders. Soon, the Otomi Warriors charged up to the red-haired warriors. After firing another volley, wounding about a dozen Samurai, the red-haired warriors turned and fled into the woods. The Otomi Warriors pursued them relentlessly, furiously chasing and throwing javelins. Occasionally, the lagging red-haired warriors were struck by javelins and then cut down by the Samurai with clubs.


    "Tweet, tweet!"


    A call to retreat sounded from the camp. Dozens of experienced Samurai sprinted from the camp, ordering the fighting warriors to return. However, the troops in pursuit were difficult to restrain. The cold Arrows of the red-haired warriors kept coming, inciting the minds of the Otomi Warriors. At least half of the bloodthirsty warriors, without any care, charged directly into the deep forest. The trees disrupted the Samurai¡¯s coordination and their favored battle formations.


    In the deep forests, small-scale, gruesome skirmishes erupted now and then, accompanied by faint screams and the collapsing figures of both sides. Even though the Otomi were skilled mountain people, they could not gain any advantage in the forest compared to the beast-like Canine Warriors.


    It didn¡¯t take long before a large number of agile figures flitted through the forest. Under the leadership of the Chieftain¡¯s trusted aides, hundreds of Canine Warriors closed in from all directions. Battle cries filled the air in an instant, startling the birds in the forest!


    A Canine Warrior leaped out from the woods, swinging a Stone Hammer, and smashed it onto the back of an Otomi Warrior. The warrior let out a wail and collapsed instantly, only to be met by another hammer blow to the head. Another veteran warrior, upon witnessing this gruesome scene, his eyes bloodshot, swung his War Club with deadly precision, cutting through the neck of the Canine Warrior. The Canine Warrior let out half a scream before falling to the ground, his body stacking upon the corpses, their blood mingling together.


    More Canine Descendants advanced from all sides. The veteran warrior swung his War Club and shield desperately, back to back with three other warriors, fending off the surrounding assaults.


    "Swoosh!"


    An accurately aimed Bone Arrow sliced through the air, "thud," piercing precisely into the veteran warrior¡¯s eye, and a piercing scream echoed through the woods. The veteran warrior¡¯s eyes bled as he dropped his weapons in agony. He fell backwards, writhing on the ground, and then a sharp pain in his chest followed by violent struggling, and then he was silenced completely.


    The redhead Canine pulled the Copper Spear out of the heart, admiring faintly. Such captured weapons were indeed sharp; he heard the southern Tribes had many more. Glancing at the remaining three warriors, he carefully took a step back and continued to command the ordinary Canine Warriors to engage, while he reloaded his Hunting Bow. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Similar scenes unfolded continuously in the forest. In close combat, the Canine Descendants¡¯ brute force was fully unleashed. Without the protection of a battle formation, the Otomi Warriors fell like stalks of corn, broken into different shapes.


    In not more than a quarter of an hour, the forest had completely quieted down. The breeze brought a pungent scent of blood. Then, the Canine Descendants began to stoop and search, gathering any usable weapons and Cotton Armor, looking for personal Daggers and Necklaces, even stripping the fallen Otomi Warriors bare.


    "Haha!"


    Chichika laughed unrestrainedly. Soon after, the Chieftain¡¯s trusted aide came forward to report. Surrounded by Tribal Warriors, more than four hundred Otomi Warriors were utterly annihilated in the mountain woodlands, with almost none escaping. The Canine Descendants had lost only half their number of ordinary men and about a dozen elite redhead warriors.


    The Red Dog Chieftain nodded and gave a few quiet orders. Not long after, hundreds of redhead warriors approached again, with loud clamor, shooting Arrows into the encampment. This time, the camp gates remained firmly closed, and the Otomi Warriors merely held their ground within the walls, no longer mounting an attack.


    Chichika looked ferociously for a while before saying to his trusted aide.


    "The morale at this encampment has plummeted. Tonight, select about a hundred redheads who can conduct a night raid, and have them kill their way in and set fire!"

 Chapter 629 - 325: Mountain Melee Part 2

    "As you command, Chieftain!"


    Uman nodded, his face hardening into a fierce expression.


    "I will lead the team tonight and butcher those Otomi mongrels well!"


    "Haha! Excellent, a fearless warrior should be undaunted!"


    Chichika laughed heartily. He extended his fist and thumped Uman¡¯s chest forcefully. Then, the Red Dog Chieftain¡¯s expression turned cold as he gazed at the forest where the skirmish had paused.


    "Uman, chop off the heads of the fallen hundreds of Otomi Warriors! Pile the heads outside the next camp. If the Otomi come for revenge, we¡¯ll hunt them again!"


    "As you command, Chieftain!"


    Uman nodded repeatedly. Then, he pointed towards the central command tent, where a flag with a bird was fluttering. Hundreds of archers were stationed in the encampment, some warriors still holding longbows.


    "Chieftain, why not just pile the heads outside the Otomi leader¡¯s camp! If he continues to cower like a turtle, the morale of those mongrels will completely break!"


    Hearing this, Chichika narrowed his eyes and looked over the formidable Otomi stronghold.


    "Agreed, take three hundred adept at shooting the redhead, and get it done!"


    "As you command, Chieftain!"


    Uman looked excited and hastened away. Soon, the previously silent forest became noisy again. Hundreds of Canine Descendants, carrying dripping heads, formed a loose formation and surged to within a hundred steps from the main camp. They brazenly insulted the camp and then piled the heads on the soft earth.


    Under the bird flag, Jiowar clenched his fists, watching the provoking Canine Descendants outside the encampment, burning with rage.


    "Damn Guajili Canine Descendants! Damn Red Dog Chieftain! Damn it all!"


    Jiowar angrily pounded his chest, the bronze Cloth Armor emitting a metallic clang. Feeling the solidity of the metal, he recalled the prince¡¯s military strategies and calmed down once more.


    "The prince once said, as a commander-in-chief, one must control his emotions, especially not to send troops out in anger. One should play to their strengths and limit the enemy¡¯s ability to leverage theirs. The Canine Descendants are adept in close forest combat, unlike the Ottopan Warriors who excel in formation battles..."


    "Otomi¡¯s bird king, cowardly armadillo, small mountain cat!..."


    The insults outside the camp became unbearable, each word piercing his ears.


    "Damn it, damn it! Personal Guard Warriors, follow me into battle!"


    Jiowar¡¯s eyes were bloodshot as he angrily issued the order. These past few days, he had steadfastly held his position without engaging in combat, much to the warriors¡¯ chagrin, and his new leader¡¯s prestige was on shaky ground. Today, the forward camp had even struck out on its own, suffering heavy losses. If he allowed the Canine Descendants to keep insulting them, the morale of the Ottopan Warriors would truly disintegrate!


    While contemplating deeply, Jiowar put on the bronze helmet and fitted several vibrant feathers into it. Then, he touched the sturdy metal armor, thought for a moment, and added an outer layer of tough leather cloak. The Coyote Prince, cautious as ever, made all his preparations before finally leading all the archers and a thousand warriors out of the camp.


    The clarion call to attack sounded high, and the elite Ottopan Warriors charged out of the encampment, forming two lines. The front line attacked the provoking hundreds of sturdy Canine Descendants, and the rear line lifted greatbows, shooting at the Canine Warriors behind.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    The fierce rain of arrows howled in, sharp screams tearing through the mountain forest, and in an instant, more than twenty Canine Descendants were dead. Soon, the Samurai engaged in fierce combat with the provoking Canine Descidents. The battle was brief, and the Samurai killed dozens of Canine Descendants, with the rest scattering like fleeing rats.


    "Good, good!"


    In the forest behind, Uman clutched a captured longbow, filled with the excitement of a hunt. Behind him stood three hundred red-haired archers, and five hundred warriors prepared for close combat. The elite of the Red Dog Tribe were ambushed here, ready to strike fiercely at the leader of the Otomi at any moment.


    Under the protection of his trusted aides, Jiowar ferociously chased down the fleeing foes, displaying the martial prowess of a new leader. Coyote Prince continually shouted loudly, swung his war club forcefully, and slashed to death any enemy who dared to resist. His bright plumage fluttered overhead, so conspicuous.


    The charging Samurai were inspired by their leader, their spirits lifted, they too began to shout loudly.


    "The leader of the mountain city, the skillful Bird Slayer King!"


    Jiowar charged for a while, killing several enemies, then gradually slowed down. He caught his breath slightly; the armor and the leather robe were indeed somewhat heavy. Afterwards, Coyote Prince looked around, and through the slits of his helmet, he saw the wooded area a hundred paces away and completely stopped.


    "This charge, the leader¡¯s display of courage is sufficient! If the nobility dare whisper again, it¡¯s time to use the Thunderbolt. The skirmish in the woods is too risky, the cunning Guajili people will definitely have an ambush set up, better to order the warriors to retreat!..."


    In the wooded area, Uman furrowed his brows. The opposing leader had actually stopped and gathered his trusted aides, seemingly not planning to advance further.


    "Pah, the shrinking armadillos, quit halfway through the charge! The last Otomi leader was a warrior who personally led the charge, directly crushing two thousand tribal warriors!"


    Uman spat fiercely. Naturally, the end result of the last Otomi leader¡¯s charge was being ambushed by the red-haired attackers he led, and shot dead by a volley of arrows. Thinking of this, he gripped his longbow tightly, excited once again.


    "With this captured greatbow, watch me shoot you dead!"


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    The horn to retreat resounded through the mountain path. Jiowar personally blew the horn, calling the warriors to retreat. The charging Ottopan Warriors gradually halted their steps. They looked back for a moment, then gathered around the brave Prince.


    "We can¡¯t wait any longer!"


    Uman suddenly roared like a tiger, blew the bone whistle, and then shouted at the red-haired behind him.


    "Charge! All tribal elite, close in and fire, hunt down the Otomi Bird King!"


    Eight hundred Red Dog warriors howled like wolves, then fiercely charged out of the woodland towards the nearby Jiowar. Upon seeing this scene, a large group of Ottopan Warriors also gathered together, and the skirmishing erupted in front of the woods.


    The ambushing enemies appeared from the woods and charged straight towards them. Although Jiowar had anticipated it, he was still suddenly startled. He instinctively prepared to turn and flee, then forcibly stopped himself. Coyote Prince looked around and whispered,


    "Give me a shield!"


    Hundreds of tribal warriors, like frenzied tigers. They hardly defended at all, swinging stone hammers and copper spears, desperately charging towards the enemy¡¯s leader. Uman personally led the red-haired, charging at the forefront.

 Chapter 630 - 326: A Deadly Fight in the Mountains - End

    "Swoosh!"


    The bone arrow came as fast as lightning, a flash before the eyes! Jiowar had not reacted when a sudden pain struck his chest, and his whole body shivered from the impact.


    "Hiss... Bang!"


    The sharp arrow pierced through the cloth, hitting the bronze armor plate with a "bang." The Coyote Prince stepped back, quickly lowered his head to look. The arrow hit right in the center, but it did not penetrate the copper armor.


    "Damn it, they actually shot at my vitals!"


    Jiowar was frightened and looked around for the enemy who had ambushed him.


    Not far away, Uman was stunned. His arrow had hit the vital spot, yet the enemy did not fall. The red-haired trusted aide¡¯s face showed a ferocious color as he, along with dozens of red-heads, charged forward another ten steps and raised his hand for another shot.


    "Swoosh!... Bang!"


    The bone arrow hit the copper armor, making another metallic clank. Jiowar¡¯s chest hurt again, as if someone had punched him from afar, and he took another step back. He looked down to see this arrow also hit the heart area, merely two inches from the previous one.


    "Damn it, such precise shooting!"


    Jiowar glared ahead, finally spotting the enemy general who shot the arrows. It was a red-haired Canine Hunter, with no distinctive clothes. He held a Greatbow, rarely seen among Guajili people, now gazing this way.


    "So it really is a thick-skinned armadillo..."


    Uman lowered his bow to observe, his face revealing an incredulous expression. He stared at the unharmed Otomi leader and whispered a curse in surprise.


    "Damn it, so thick-skinned!"


    Standing more than fifty steps apart, both men looked at each other with intimidating killing intent. Jiowar turned around and gave orders to his trusted aides in a loud voice. Uman bit his lip hard and yelled to the red-heads around him.


    "Charge another ten steps! Fight the Otomi dogs on both sides! At the center, red-headed hunters, shoot the bird king with me!"


    After saying this, Uman charged ahead. The distance of ten steps was covered in an instant, as he once again lifted the Greatbow and pulled it taut with all his strength. This time, he aimed for the bird king¡¯s face! Around him, thirty-something elite red-headed hunters also raised their Hunting Bows, aiming for head and face vitals.


    "Damn it, damn it! Despicable Guajili Canine Descendants attacking by stealth!"


    Jiowar watched the group of red-heads aiming at him, shuddered all over, and cursed angrily. He threw away the War Club in his hand and lifted the shield with both hands, desperately covering his head, face, and neck.


    "Swoosh swoosh swoosh!... Pfft pfft!... Bang!"


    The red-headed hunters didn¡¯t miss their targets, as the whistling arrows brought a tremor of death. Most bone arrows struck the wooden shield, and the rest accurately stuck into the cloth armor. Jiowar bent over with the shield raised, like walking in a torrential downpour, his whole body getting painfully beaten. After a single volley, his Armor was stuck with more than a dozen arrows, turning him into a hedgehog.


    "Damn it! Sneaky curs!"


    Jiowar struggled to steady himself, carefully tilted the shield ajar, and peeked out to observe. Burning with rage, he stretched out his hand, pointed in Uman¡¯s direction, and roared orders to his trusted aides.


    "Shoot! Shoot them dead!"


    Nearly a hundred trusted aides had already taken out Longbows, ready to shoot. Upon hearing their leader¡¯s command, they drew their bows and notched arrows together, aiming briefly before firing at the opposite side.


    After Jiowar became a prince, the generous lord bestowed two hundred Longbows. Half were distributed among the important nobility and chieftains. The remaining half were used to select elites, emulating their lord, and forming this team of Longbow trusted aides. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Swoosh swoosh swoosh!"


    Sharp Copper Arrows cut through the air. At this distance, the Canine Descendants¡¯ cloth clothes were like paper mache, and captured Cotton Armor could not provide resistance. Uman sensed the danger beforehand and violently threw himself to the ground, rolling back twice with force.


    "Pfft, pfft... Ah!"


    Arrows sinking into flesh made a blood-curling squelching sound, immediately followed by agonizing screams that drowned out everything else and fell upon Uman¡¯s ears. Lying on the ground, covered in dust, he looked beside him and his heart sank. More than a dozen elite red-headed hunters were hit by arrows and fell to the ground bleeding, clearly beyond saving.


    "Swoosh swoosh swoosh!..."


    The Longbow trusted aides stood firm and aimed, launching another round of fierce volleys that fell among the rear ranks of Canine Warriors. A dozen Canine Descendants fell instantly, the backlines thrown into chaos. Meanwhile, the several hundred Canine Descendants desperately charging at the forefront were also blocked by the converging Otomi Warriors.


    "Blessings of the ancestors! Form battle formation, break the enemy line!"


    Jiowar waved his shield and shouted loudly to bolster the morale of his forces. Seeing their leader personally at the frontline unharmed, the Ottopan Warriors¡¯ spirit surged. They let out a battle cry and began to fight ferociously. Soon, the warriors formed a battle formation, raised their shields to cover each other, and gradually stabilized the battle line.


    A Canine Warrior frantically swung the Stone Hammer, charging at the Otomi Warriors¡¯ battle line. He struck with all his might, aimed forward but was blocked by a middle-aged warrior¡¯s shield. The middle-aged warrior braced against the dented shield, leaned back slightly, and another young warrior swung the War Club, slashing toward the enemy¡¯s chest and abdomen.


    "Sizzle!"


    A burst of fresh red sprayed from the chest and abdomen. The Canine Warrior suddenly arched his back, losing all strength and slumping sideways to the ground. Another Canine Descendant charged with the Stone Spear, the middle-aged warrior again raised his shield to block, and the young warrior cut diagonally from the side. After an anguished cry, another corpse was added to the ground.


    Facing the formed battle array, the Canine Warriors began to incur rapid losses, while the casualties of the warriors significantly decreased. Uman looked around the battlefield, anxiety growing in his heart. He withdrew to where the Tribal Warriors were, commanding the striking elites.


    "Howl! Red-headed hunters, scatter and shoot, suppress the enemy archers! Tribal Warriors, circle to the flanks, don¡¯t charge the formation head-on!"

 Chapter 631 - 326: A Deadly Fight in the Mountains - End (Part 2)

    ```


    The melee in the mountains was a mess, with the sounds of battle shaking the heavens. Once the warriors were locked in close combat, it became very difficult to command them. Hearing Uman¡¯s order, only a hundred or so tribal warriors who had not yet engaged obeyed the command. They quickly split into two groups, circling to both sides of the Otomi army at an angle, then crouched low and charged like hunting dogs!


    As the flanks charged, the fighting became even more brutal. The samurai formations on both wings shook for a moment, slightly disorganized. Ottopan Warriors and Guajili fighters grappled with each other, like wild beasts tearing into each other, each delivering deadly attacks. In just a moment, dozens lay fallen!


    The red-haired Canine Hunters stood up straight, straining to shoot at the Longbow Warriors, while the archers on the other side quickly returned fire. Arrows crisscrossed the mountain paths, many flying into the woods, startling the eagles into flight.


    The seasoned red-haired Hunter Tuohe, his face covered with red markings, had an indifferent expression. He squinted his eyes, holding the Hunting Bow at an angle, and released a sharp Bone Arrow! Forty paces away, a Longbow trusted aide was struck in the face and fell to the ground at the sound.


    "The third finger!"


    Tuohe nodded slightly, mentally noting the count. Then, he shifted his position slightly, aimed at another trusted aide, drew the string to his cheek, and released another swift arrow.


    "The fourth finger!"


    Tuohe did not need to see the result of the shot, he confidently counted under his breath. He had wielded the bow for over twenty years; even his back was shaped into an arch suitable for shooting. As soon as an arrow left his hand, he knew by instinct whether it had hit its mark.


    "Ah!"


    As expected, another trusted aide let out a piercing scream, an arrow through the eye bleeding, they writhed in agony on the ground.


    A small smile tugged at the corner of Tuohe¡¯s mouth. After this battle, he would be able to draw four quarters into a red stripe on his face, surely surpassing Uman as the first man of the tribe. He moved his Hunting Bow again, aiming for the next enemy, when suddenly a whistling of death reached his ears!


    Seven or eight Feathered Arrows came at him simultaneously, targeting the Divine Archer! Tuohe swiftly bent his body and stepped aside, but still, he was pierced by a sharp arrow through his waist and abdomen, bringing him to the ground. Then, another volley of arrows descended, turning him into a bloodied figure in an instant!


    The senior Hunter lay on the ground, the earth beneath him rapidly wetting. With his dying strength, he looked up at the autumn woods. Some fall leaves danced in the air before drifting down slowly, stained with blood red.


    "Autumn is... the cycle... of death,... returning... to the... earth... mother..."


    Tuohe murmured softly, his eyes quickly losing their spark. Surrounding the thick-skinned Jiowar chieftain, warriors from both sides fell like autumn leaves. Of the two thousand elite, a third had already died in the fierce battle, and yet the arriving reinforcements filled the ranks!


    Atop a hill, Chieftain Red Fox tightly gripped his weapon, his gaze fixed on the distant battle.


    Several hundred elite Red Fox suddenly broke out, hemming in the Otomi chieftain, like the mouth of a snake half-biting its prey. However, the prey had frightfully thick skin and couldn¡¯t be bitten through; the snake hesitated to let go. The cruel struggle went on, as the Otomi opened the gates of their camp and each of the Canine Tribes dispatched more warriors. Reinforcements from both sides kept arriving continuously, joining the battle from two sides, stretching the battle line longer and longer, unwittingly heading towards an unexpected decisive battle!


    "Chieftain! Divine Archer Tuohe, is dead!"


    A trusted aide hurried up the hill to report to Chieftain Red Dog, who was observing the battle.


    "What?!"


    Chichika clenched his fists, his face fierce like a wild beast choosing its prey. Tuohe had been one of his top archers and to die like this on a nameless mountain trail! Chieftain Red Fox paced back and forth, undecided. He turned his head again, looking toward the battlefield, which had grown to three or four thousand combatants, then at the still solid line of Ottopan trusted aides.


    "No, this battle can¡¯t be fought like this!"


    Chichika bit through his lip, setting his resolve. He had been keen to have a full-scale battle with the Otomi mongrels, but not on this kind of flat terrain with no cover. Chieftain Red Fox shouted to his trusted aide beside him.


    "Sound the horn for retreat!"


    "Chieftain, a retreat?"


    ```


    "Retreat!"


    Chichika roared fiercely.


    "Let Uman retreat! Dispatch the remaining two thousand warriors to ambush in the woods! Also, send an envoy to inform the other tribes: if the Otomi people chase into the forest, ensure they never return!"


    The trusted aide nodded and left. In just a moment, the deep sound of the horn echoed through the mountains. The Guajili people had hunted massive beasts in the north and were now using real bull horns.


    "Woo! Woo!..."


    Uman¡¯s eyes were bloodshot as he was drawing his bow angrily. The sound of the horn reached him from afar. He turned his head toward the hill where the chieftain stood, but all he saw was the retreat flag. The chieftain¡¯s figure had already disappeared. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What?"


    "Woo! Woo!..."


    Even in the midst of fierce combat, the elite red-haired warriors still managed to keep their cool. They looked back, hesitated for a few moments, then decisively turned around and retreated.


    "Awoo! We¡¯re leaving!"


    Uman, with an unwilling expression, had no choice but to obey. Before leaving, he took one last look at the Otomi leader, who was close at hand. The enemy was covered in arrows, his shield peppered like a hairy brush, and was now also turning his head toward the hill where the horn was sounding.


    "There? The leader of the Guajili?"


    Upon hearing this entirely different horn sound, Jiowar¡¯s expression changed. He looked toward the nearby hill, squinted his eyes in thought, and then shouted loudly to his trusted aide.


    "Wave the command flag, have the nearest camp send out troops! Attack that hill!..."


    As he was speaking, the Guajili people suddenly erupted into a wave of chaotic shouts. Then, they turned their heads together, their formation completely scattered, and fled into the woods behind them. The Canine Warriors, mostly light and without armor, accustomed to running, were still swift as they moved through the hills, rapidly escaping. The samurai, with their eyes bloodshot from killing, continued to chase the fleeing enemy, nearly entering the forest!


    After watching for a moment and seeing birds take flight above the forest, and faint shadows moving, Jiowar decisively took out his conch horn and blew on it personally.


    "Diddy! Diddy! The entire army retreat!"


    "Woo woo! Woo woo!"`


    The leaders of both armies, one after the other, issued orders to retreat. The deep bull horn and the piercing conch horn echoed simultaneously through the mountains like an abruptly ending symphony. The warriors of both sides quickly disengaged and then, collecting their calm, turned back toward their main forces.


    A fierce battle had erupted suddenly, with moments of intense fighting, and then just as suddenly, it subsided. Under the admiring gazes of the samurai, Jiowar pulled out the bone arrows from his body, snapped them one by one, and threw them on the ground. Then he lifted his head and gazed into the vast sky.


    The sun was setting in the west, staining the mountain peaks with its reddish glow. At both ends of the long mountain path, the two armies were each returning to their camps, reestablishing a standoff across the miles. In this battle, both sides had lost over a thousand lives, nearly all elites! The losses of the two armies were roughly equal, and although the Guajili had achieved the element of surprise, they didn¡¯t gain the upper hand in the fight.


    Black eagles descended from the sky, swooping down on the fresh food. Between the undulating mountains, it was as if nothing had happened, except that the color of the autumn leaves on the mountain path had turned from yellow to the red of maple leaves.


    "Praise the Chief Divine¡¯s protection!... Thank you for Your Highness¡¯s graciousness!..."


    Jiowar grasped the Sun Amulet at his chest, pressed against his sturdy gold armor, and prayed devoutly to the sunset. Soon after, he gritted his teeth and cursed fiercely.


    "Despicable Guajili people! When His Highness¡¯s grand army arrives, we¡¯ll sacrifice you all to the Chief Divine, one by one to the heavens!"

 Chapter 632 - 327: Tribal Council

    "Go outside the tent and receive five lashes yourself!"


    Chichika¡¯s expression was fierce as he spoke sternly. He was draped in a wolf robe, sitting cross-legged in the broad main tent, with tribal chiefs seated on both sides. The tribal council was in session, with all chiefs participating in deciding the fate of the Guajili Alliance. The Red Dog Chieftain, wearing a long crown of eagle feathers, sat on an upper buffalo skin rug, a dried great buffalo head behind him. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The North American buffalo is the largest land beast in the northern Wilderness and even across the continent. Standing nearly two meters tall and weighing up to a ton, it¡¯s extremely fast, irritable, aggressive, and dangerous. Hunting buffalo is a symbol of valor among the Wilderness tribes. This buffalo was Chichika¡¯s prey in his youth, its head personally severed by him to create this specimen. Now, the enormous buffalo head in the main tent not only demonstrated the chief¡¯s fearlessness and bravery but also declared his unquestioned leadership position.


    Uman tore off his cotton armor from his upper body, bared his chest, and strode out of the tent to receive his punishment. He bit down hard on his teeth, without uttering a sound, letting another trusted aide forcefully whip him. The whip cracked sharply, leaving bloody marks on his flesh. Beads of sweat suddenly burst forth on Uman¡¯s forehead. After receiving his punishment, he still bit down hard on his teeth, walked back into the main tent with his back wounded, and knelt down before the chief.


    "Uman, do you acknowledge your fault?"


    Chichika glanced at the fresh red on the back of his aide, his tone slightly softer.


    "I do! ... The recent strike was unfavorable, we lost too many elites... and Tuohe died in battle!"


    Uman bit his teeth and answered, looking down.


    The major tribes of the Wilderness usually numbered around five thousand, typically having over two thousand men capable of fighting, among them three hundred to four hundred elite red-haired warriors. The harsh living conditions of the Wilderness, with scarce food supplies and drastic climate changes, made it difficult for overly large tribes to form in one place.


    The Red Dog Tribe was the largest tribe in the Wilderness, having absorbed others along its journey southwards, now possessing nearly ten thousand members with over four thousand warriors and eight hundred elite red-haired hunters. In today¡¯s battle alone, they lost four to five hundred capable tribal warriors and a hundred elite red-haired hunters!


    At this thought, Chichika felt a pang in his heart. Losing tribal warriors was one thing, they could be recruited from other tribes. But red-haired hunters, skilled in archery, were not so easily replaced. He clenched the long dagger at his waist, suppressing his murderous impulse, before looking again at Uman.


    "Uman, you just said, the Otomi chief on the opposite side, was hit by dozens of arrows but did not fall?"


    "Yes, Chief! The last Otomi chief was killed by one of our volleys; he was gone. But this one, after several volleys, is unscathed, his skin thicker than an armadillo!"


    Uman nodded with resentment, dissatisfied. He had failed to kill the opposing chief in the raid. Ottopan warriors had thus gained the upper hand, forming a battle array in resistance, resulting in many casualties.


    "Thick skin? ... I seem to have heard of it somewhere, like the Cactus Tribe has many thick-skinned warriors. Otuwa once sent an envoy, saying that it is an expensive and robust armor. Just defeat the Cactus Tribe, and we can take the thick skin..."


    Chichika tried to recall. The Red Dog Alliance had long been active further north, not often clashing with the Mexica Allied Forces, and was not familiar with the opponent¡¯s tactics and equipment. After thinking for a while, the Red Dog Chieftain suddenly slapped his thigh.


    "Right! A couple of days ago, a tribe fled from Red Fox Valley, what was it called?"


    "Chief, it¡¯s the Red Crow Tribe. They also brought a few small tribes with them, all now merged together. I went as an envoy to see them, the tribe had over two thousand members, just over eight hundred warriors, and one to two hundred red-haired. But after all, it¡¯s a small tribe, there¡¯s even a young girl among the red-haired warriors..."


    The trusted aide sneered, seemingly disdainful.


    "Over two thousand isn¡¯t a small tribe. As for the women of the Wilderness, many are excellent in archery!"


    Chichika laughed and did not mind. He continued to ask.


    "The Red Crow Tribe, where are they now?"


    "They took the farther mountain path to the north, now in Pamus Valley, encamping just outside a small town by the riverside. Hmm, it seems they plan to continue migrating eastward along the Tampen River."


    "Go, go now!"


    Chichika ordered without hesitation. He needed more intelligence on the Southern Tribes.


    "Tell the Red Crow Tribe, they have been conscripted! Ordinary warriors may stay at the camp, but all the red-haired must be sent to fight. Also, have their chieftain come and listen by my side!"


    The trusted aide bowed to take the order and then set out east from the camp. The Red Dog Chieftain looked back at Uman.


    "Uman, the wolf pack hunts in an instant! In this battle," he sighed, "your ambush failed, yet you clung tenaciously, deserving punishment. However, you charged forward personally like a fearless buffalo, deserving reward. Hmm, just now I gave you five lashes as a punishment, now it¡¯s time for your reward. Choose a noble Otomi lady from my rear tent for yourself¡ªI reward you!"


    "Ah! As you command, Chieftain! Awoooo..."


    Uman¡¯s face lit up with joy as he kowtowed.


    "Haha, go on then, my wild buffalo!"


    Seeing the warrior¡¯s submissive demeanor, Chichika nodded in satisfaction and continued discussing military matters with the tribal leaders. Seated in the principal seat, he only needed to give a few brief commands for all the chiefs to nod in agreement. Even the chieftains of the great tribes often showed compliance. This clear distinction in rank and file was wholly different from the three tribes in Red Fox Valley.


    "Chieftain Chichika. Scouts report that Red Fox Valley has fallen, not even holding for ten days! As a result, Otuwa fled, Mizili was captured, and Miwa surrendered. A full twenty thousand from the Wilderness Tribes have become mere sacrifices at the mercy of the Aztec people!"


    With this, Red Monkey Chieftain Ozoma¡¯s eyes flickered. He looked at the worried faces of the other chiefs before turning his gaze upward to Chichika.


    "Now, the great army of the Cactus Tribe is charging this way like an unstoppable buffalo. The Cactus Warriors approach ferociously, as deadly as Jaguars. The wolf packs of the wilderness never engage in risky battles; the vast wilderness is enough for us to stay clear of danger... Chichika, should we perhaps step back a bit?"


    "No! Ozoma, we must not retreat."


    Chichika answered decisively, his gaze intense as he stared straight into Ozoma¡¯s eyes, filled with a leader¡¯s command.


    "Right now, the old camps of all tribes are in the northeast at Pamus Valley, tens of thousands of starving tribesmen are awaiting food. And with the corn soon ripe for harvesting, right on the brink of reaping, how can we leave now?!"


    Then, Red Dog Chieftain paused, his face showing a hint of murderous intent.


    "The swift falling of Red Fox Valley was due to the Red Fox Tribe leading the escape! Ozoma, do you intend to lead an escape as well?"


    Facing the pressing question from Red Dog Chieftain, the heart of Red Monkey Chieftain chilled. He bowed his head, unable to meet his gaze, and stuttered softly.


    "Uh, esteemed Chieftain Chichika... naturally, I will act with all the tribes..."


    "Good, remember your promise!"


    Chichika slapped the bullhide beneath him, producing a loud smack. He swept his fierce gaze over the surrounding chiefs. Some nodded in agreement, others still appeared anxious. The Red Dog Chieftain pondered for a moment before speaking to inspire.


    "My fellow chieftains, we have over sixty thousand tribesmen in our hands! Including the robust women skilled in archery, we can gather thirty thousand warriors! And the opposing allied forces are at most twenty to thirty thousand. The numerous Otomi mongrels are no match for us, and the skilled Cactus Warriors number only a few thousand! They still need to leave forces behind to guard their positions and maintain their supply lines. If we hold the strategic passes and raid their supply routes, we can surely defend the valley!"


    "Just fifty li northeast of here lies Pamus Valley, blessed by our ancestors, promised to be our home! It stretches fifty li from east to west, and thirty to forty li from north to south; surrounded by mountains on all sides, it is easy to defend but hard to attack! In the middle of the valley flows the broad Tampen River, which runs eastward, irrigating the fertile lands... This is a rare fertile ground in the north, just sow the seeds and you¡¯ll reap plenty of food!"


    "Having such a rich land, would you still wish to return to the barren wilderness? After living in comfortable stone houses, do you really want to go back to being exposed to the elements? Moreover, even the women from the south are fairer, larger, softer, and won¡¯t shoot at you with a bow at the slightest provocation!"


    Upon hearing this, the chiefs laughed loudly, spewing vulgarities, all in agreement. Pamus Valley was extraordinarily rich, with no worries about cold spells or water sources, and capable of producing vast amounts of food. The river provided fish, and the mountains were abundant with birds and animals. This was something unimaginable for the tribes descending from the wilderness before.


    Seeing the chiefs¡¯ expressions, Chichika grinned, easing the murderous look. His direct control over the tribes numbered ten thousand, and his command over the various tribes of the wilderness exceeded sixty thousand. The wilderness had never seen such a large tribal alliance, and only the fertile south could sustain it.


    As the leader of tens of thousands from the Guajili people, Red Dog Chieftain had no inherited experience to draw from, nor the support of wilderness traditions. He could only rely on the military strength immediately under him, and the prestige of a chieftain, to govern so many tribes. For the warriors from various tribes, he both rewarded and punished, winning their loyalty; for the ordinary chieftains, he generously bestowed wealth to calm their hearts; and for the chieftains of the great tribes, he not only actively sought their support but also sternly cracked the whip at any dissent. After a busy half-year, he had finally managed to keep the tribes under control.


    However, all this was predicated on the fact that he could not afford to lose a battle or retreat. Defeat would diminish his authority and attract challenges from those with ambitions. Once they left the rich Pamus Valley, without such fertile lands to sustain them, the gathered tribes would disperse as easily as sand scattered in the wind, returning to their fragmented state on the wilderness. Then, this so-called leader of the alliance would exist in name only.


    Having tasted power, Red Dog Chieftain was no longer willing to let go. Seeing the wealth and weakness of the southern tribes, he was filled with even greater ambition. In this moment, desire ran through the heart of the wilderness leader like a rampaging herd of beasts. He looked at the crowd once more and bellowed like a wolf.


    "Awooo! May the ancestors bless us! My fellow chieftains, we shall hold our ground here and fight the invading enemy! Cut down trees, stack stones, reinforce the encampments in the mountains...Get your bows ready and wait for the Cactus Tribe to come and meet their doom!"

 Chapter 633 - 328: Royal Banner Arrives

    The end of September brought both a golden harvest and a withering intent to kill. Xiulote led his army eastward for eighty or ninety miles and finally arrived at the camp of Jiowar. His gaze swept across the undulating hills along the way, and in the distance, towering mountains rose majestically. The dust of the troops ascended in the winding mountain paths, while the fallen leaves of the sparse trees fluttered amidst the hills.


    "The Eastern Madre mountain range truly rises magnificently!"


    Throughout the journey, Xiulote felt deeply moved. The Pamus Valley lay to the northeast of the Red Fox Valley, deep within the Eastern Madre Mountains. The distance between the two valleys was about one hundred and seventy miles, all along rugged, winding mountain roads. These paths varied in width and were obstructed by forests, making it extremely difficult for the army to pass through.


    "To conquer the Guajili Canine Descendants in the North, I had thought we would duel and pursue them over the flat wilderness, but it turned out to be a laborious trek through the mountains, attacking mountain strongholds!"


    Thinking of this, Xiulote shook his head and chuckled ruefully. The Guajili Canine Descendants had no herds; they were a tenacious nomadic hunting people, accustomed to the wilderness and mountains. They moved like the wind, and when encountering a powerful enemy, it was only natural for them to hide in the wilderness and flee for hundreds of miles. But now, besieged by the need for food, they remained in the two valleys, defending from a position of strength.


    "Raise the Royal Banner, summon Jiowar over!"


    Soon, the Royal Banner of Black Wolf was erected on a hill outside the camp. Xiulote ascended to a higher position, overlooking the terrain around him and surveying the enemy camp. Jiowar, too, was very careful, accompanying the King at his side.


    "Jiowar, you¡¯ve fought a battle against the Red Dog Alliance before, losing a thousand men."


    Xiulote looked at the massive Canine camp and then at the dense forests nearby the camp.


    "What about the Red Dog Alliance, how formidable are they?"


    "Your Highness, the Guajili people are divided into five parts, with the Red Dog Tribe at the forefront, but their combat strength varies,"


    Jiowar pondered for a moment before answering frankly.


    "The direct lineage of the Red Dog Tribe is quite capable in battle, slightly less strong than my elite troops when lined up in formation, but stronger than the Ottopan Warriors in forest combat. However, they are very cunning, always avoiding head-on battles with the legions."


    Then, Jiowar paused, his expression tinged with indignation. He leaned forward, protesting like a domestic dog,


    "Your Highness, the Red Dog Alliance has a large number of red-haired Hunters. Their tactics are extremely flexible. They would harass us at night, preventing the Samurai from resting, and even launch night raids. They use tactics of provocation and feigned retreat to lure the legions into the forests and then engage in melee. Half of the thousand men I lost were ambushed and killed in the forest after engaging in fight without orders. They¡¯re also extremely despicable, concentrating a large number of Divine Archers to snipe at leaders... Your Highness, please use the Chief Divine¡¯s mana to destroy the enemy! If not for the Copper Armor you bestowed upon me, I would have already gone to the Divine Kingdom..."


    "Night harassment? Provocation and feigned defeat? Skirmishes in the forest, decapitation tactics? It all seems so familiar..."


    Xiulote pondered silently.


    "The Red Dog Alliance is like a pack of wolves on the wilderness, leaning more towards offensive combat. Even when both armies face each other, they persistently take the initiative to attack, creating pressure on the opponent. The Canine Descendants¡¯ weakness lies in their simple equipment and impulsive nature. They have poor discipline and aren¡¯t good at defending."


    The King reflected, looking toward the opposite side again. It seemed the Red Dog Tribe had noticed the arrival of reinforcements for the Alliance, and once more they sent out several hundred-man teams of elites to harass the camp with Archery. Among them, three teams headed towards the Black Wolf¡¯s Royal Banner through the woods.


    "Your Highness, there are also small squads of Canine Descendants hidden in the woods! The enemy is attacking, do you wish to return to the main camp temporarily..." S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bertade observed the birds in the woods for a while and suggested in a grave tone.


    "There¡¯s no need! A thousand Longbow trusted aides, five hundred Jaguar warriors, all donned in Armor. Why should I hide?"


    Xiulote smiled and gave his command loudly.


    "Bertade, I give you five hundred Longbow trusted aides, go and meet the Canine Hunters head on!"


    The Head Warrior nodded. He personally led the Longbow trusted aides to the front of the hill, forming a loose defensive formation. In just a moment, figures with red hair also formed into loose formation, rushing towards them like the wind.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    From a higher vantage, with a hundred paces between them, the trusted aides began to let fly their arrows. The fierce rain of arrows whistled forth, felling several Hunters. Hundreds of Canine Hunters all crouched low, using the cover of the trees and hills, surrounding from all directions like a pack of wolves on the hunt in the wilderness. In no time, the two sides had closed to within fifty paces of each other and began to exchange fire.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    The Canine Hunters suddenly stood upright and fired their arrows furiously at the trusted aides. The precise Bone Arrows flew toward their targets, aiming for the vital spots on the chest, but were blocked by the Copper Armor, making a clanging metallic noise upon impact. The trusted aides did not dodge; squinting their eyes, they shot their arrows steadily. Soon, six to seventy bodies of Canine Warriors lay at the foot of the hill.


    "Awoo!"


    The Canine Warriors lurking in the forest finally arrived. Two hundred Canine Warriors burst out of the nearest woodland, charging toward the fluttering Black Wolf Banner. Xiulote¡¯s expression remained unchanged as he waved the command banner.


    "Roar!"


    Two hundred Jaguar Warriors let out tiger roars. Clad in Copper Armor and holding shields, they suddenly lunged forward a few steps and hurled their Javelins! The heavy Javelins tore through the air, instantly piercing through the charging Canine Warriors, who fell screaming with wounds that could not be treated. A hit from a Javelin meant certain death. Then, the Jaguar Warriors pulled out their War Clubs and began to kill indiscriminately.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    The rain of arrows soared back and forth while the Canine Hunters were completely scattered, pinned down by the trusted aides, unable to raise their heads. Their arrows stuck into the thick hides of the enemy, hitting vital spots, but their opponents were unscathed. A single arrow from the trusted aides could penetrate the Hunters¡¯ Cotton Armor and leave them seriously wounded or dead.


    "Captain Uman, we can¡¯t fight this! The other side has thick hides; we should retreat!"


    Amoxtli, hunched down, hiding behind a rock, whispered to the Red Dog Captain.


    "Shooting like this is pointless! In the Red Fox Valley, we fought with the Cactus Warriors many times! To take down one with such thick hide, it takes five or six warriors attacking at the same time. They also wear helmets; if you want to shoot them, you must hit the lower leg or the throat!"


    "Dammit! Don¡¯t compare the cowards of the Red Fox Valley with the warriors of our Red Dog Tribe!"


    Uman cursed out loud. Doubting such beliefs, he again peeked out and aimed at the leading Samurai, releaseing an arrow straight for the throat!


    The dangerous sound of the arrow splitting the air preceded his reaction. Bertade ducked slightly and sidestepped, and the arrow grazed past his helmet, dragging out a grating metallic screech. Then, the Head Warrior turned sharply, fixing Uman with a piercing stare and drew his Longbow.


    "Swoosh!"


    Amoxtli yanked Uman back forcefully, pulling him behind the boulder. A sharp Copper Arrow grazed their red hair, "thunking" into the soil, burying two inches deep!


    "Ah!"


    Uman¡¯s face turned pale, and his body trembled. He managed to get up from the ground and was about to shoot back.


    "Captain Uman! The warriors ambushing us have been routed by the Tiger-heads! We stand no chance at a sneak attack now; let¡¯s retreat quickly!"


    Amoxtli held Uman down again, strenuously advising him. Uman was a personal guard to the Chieftain Chichika of the Red Dog Tribe and a warrior who couldn¡¯t afford to fall here!


    Over the past two days, Amoxtli had been forcibly conscripted by the Chieftain of the Red Dog Tribe into the camp to serve as his retinue. The Red Dog Chieftain frequently asked him for information about the Southern Tribes. He replied faithfully, while quietly learning the Chieftain¡¯s methods of disciplining the tribe. Today, the Black Wolf¡¯s banner approached from the western mountain pass. He advised the Chieftain that the God of Death Great Chief was near and that they should retreat quickly; the Red Dog Chieftain was noncommittal. Uman suggested a proactive sneak attack, which Chichika approved with a nod, further tasking Amoxtli, who was familiar with the Cactus Tribe, to strike alongside.


    "The God of Death Great Chief¡¯s Mana is boundless, with countless thick hides at his side; how could he be so easily ambushed?"


    Amoxtli lamented in his heart.


    "This battle"

 Chapter 634 - 329: Vanguard Attacks the Camp

    "Roar!"


    The Jaguar warriors let out an intimidating roar. Cloaked in heavy armor, they swung their Obsidian Clubs with ease, knocking down the Canine warriors and slicing them into different shapes. The thick scent of blood dispersed in the wind, while the Canine warriors¡¯ screams of agony continued ceaselessly.


    The brutal close combat lasted but a moment before over eighty Canine warriors had fallen. They were unable to penetrate the heavy armor, and their combat skills were no match for their opponents, causing hardly any effective damage. The one-sided slaughter greatly demoralized them, and stray Canine warriors began to flee. Seeing this, the leading Canine warrior finally let out a wolf howl in despair, calling out,


    "Aooo! Retreat!"


    The surviving Canine warriors turned and fled, hurrying into the forest. The Jaguar warriors pursued the fleeing enemy, killing over twenty more until they reached the deep woods. Then, the sound of a trumpet halted them from beneath the Royal Banner, and the Messenger Officer waved the command flag toward the battle formation to their front-right. The battle group of two hundred nobles turned once again, heading toward the Canine hunters at the vanguard.


    "Uman!"


    Amoxtli growled again, almost pressing his mouth against Uman¡¯s ear.


    "Thick-skinned Tigers are coming up! It¡¯s too late to run now!"


    "Cactus Tribe¡¯s Tiger warriors?"


    Uman¡¯s eyes were bloodshot as he intensely watched the small strides of the approaching Jaguar warriors. These warriors moved with steady steps and agile actions, their battle techniques polished and refined, treating the slaughter indifferently. They were dressed in thick Cotton Armor, with vibrant leopard skins draped on their backs, and beast-shaped heavy helmets on their heads, making them appear like ferocious beasts. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Aooo! I¡¯ll shoot you dead!"


    Uman suddenly popped his head out and shot an arrow at one of the Jaguar warriors. The Bone Arrow streaked swiftly through the air, hitting the target¡¯s shoulder from fifty paces away. The Jaguar warrior merely shook slightly, then let out a tiger roar and charged towards him.


    "Damn it! All thick-skinned... Ah!"


    Uman cried out in pain, dropped his longbow, and staggered back behind a large rock. A flash of an arrow whizzed past his cheek, striking his left arm harshly as he aimed his bow.


    Amoxtli cautiously peeked out, only to see the leading Longbow warrior looking calm, his gaze sharp as a hawk¡¯s, as he took another Copper Arrow in hand. He then checked Uman¡¯s wound, noticing the arrowhead had penetrated deep into the flesh through the cotton armor, nearly an inch deep.


    "I¡¯m... fine... Shoot them dead!"


    Uman was drenched in sweat from the pain, yet his eyes still glowered fiercely.


    "Crack!"


    Amoxtli forcefully snapped the exposed part of the arrow shaft. He took out a speckled mushroom from his pocket and stuffed it into Uman¡¯s mouth.


    "Swallow it, for the pain!"


    Uman hesitated slightly but recognized it as the medium used for communicating with the spirits, the tribe priest¡¯s hallucinogenic mushroom. He chewed and swallowed the mushroom, and within moments, his gaze became vacant and his mind chaotic, yet his body filled with strength.


    "Uman, it¡¯s time to retreat!"


    "Eh?... Okay!"


    Amoxtli asked briefly, hesitating no longer. He shouted to the red-haired hunters nearby.


    "Covering fire! All shoot at the leading warrior! I¡¯ll lead Captain Uman out first; you cover our retreat!"


    The group of red-haired hunters exchanged looks, silently nodding their heads. They rose together and fired at the leading Cactus warrior.


    Amoxtli, keeping a firm grip on Uman¡¯s arm and lowering his body, led him toward the nearest woods. Soon, behind them, a large group of Jaguar warriors charged like tigers and leopards. The harsh cries of battle quickly turned into the woeful screams of the dying.


    In the deep mountain forest, Amoxtli looked back. The Canine Hunters in the front lines were also scattering, fleeing in all directions. This risky ambush had left behind more than two hundred elite corpses, yet it had been in vain. The disparity between the strengths of the two sides was enormous, and the losses of the God of Death Great Chief¡¯s trusted aides were few. Under the Black Wolf¡¯s royal banner, a king clad in platinum armor was being guarded by the crowd, looking into the distance towards the mountain forest.


    "Is this... the Great Chief himself?"


    Amoxtli watched for a while but couldn¡¯t make out anything clearly. He then looked at the Black Wolf¡¯s emblem on the royal banner and a sense of familiarity surged in his heart. He paused for a moment, then suddenly realized.


    "Yes! This totem has been consecrated with fresh blood by the Cactus Tribe and possesses mana, staring at it too long will disturb one¡¯s mind and spirit!"


    With that thought, Amoxtli shuddered, his sense of foreboding growing once again. He dared not look at the banner anymore and immediately pulled Uman to continue their escape to the camp in the mountain pass.


    "Uman, let¡¯s go!"


    "Uh?... Okay!..."


    Under the Black Wolf¡¯s banner, Xiulote watched the fleeing soldiers disappear into the forest. He gazed at the shadowy mountain forest and after a brief thought, he gave a loud order.


    "Avoid the forest. Blow the conch, retreat!..."


    The following two days were a peaceful standoff. The Canine Descendants holed up in their camp, fortifying their wooden fortress day and night, while the Mexica allied forces made camp to rest.


    The camp in the mountains grew increasingly large, filled with warriors in armor everywhere. Scouts from both sides continuously clashed in the mountain forests on either side, staining the deep autumn woods red. Reinforcements kept arriving, with three regiments reuniting once more. Seven thousand Ottopan Warriors, four thousand Guamare Warriors, five thousand Imperial Guard Legionnaires, and three thousand Red Frog Warriors, nearly twenty thousand soldiers amassed here!


    The army stretched for miles, various banners fluttering, stuffing the narrow mountain path to the brim. The last two thousand Pamus Warriors and two thousand Longbow Militia were still more than twenty miles away. They had just finished their rest and were en route.


    The royal banner was erected, and Xiulote once again climbed the hill to oversee the battle. The army had rested for two days, and it was time to test the mettle of the Canine Descendants. He personally waved the command banner, and the thunderous beats of the war drums echoed through the valley. Though the mountain path here was not too narrow, its width was still limited. Thousands of allied soldiers successively left the camp to form battle lines, while the remaining warriors waited in the camp.


    "Chalki Great Chieftain."


    The king, with the army in his hands, was spirited and full of fighting intent.


    "The Guamare Warriors have been conserving their strength all this way, they can be our vanguard!"


    The middle-aged Chieftain Chalki hesitated slightly. Then, meeting the king¡¯s gaze, a chill ran through him, and he boldly shouted.


    "The Guamare Warriors have been waiting for the great battle and are desperately hungry for it! Great Chief, I will have my eldest son lead the troops and attack the enemy camp for you!"


    "Good! Grant armor! For the general leading the charge!"


    A trusted aide immediately stepped forward, handing a set of bronze-faced medium armor to Chalki. The middle-aged chieftain touched the sturdy copper armor emotionally, then reluctantly said to the warriors beside him.


    "Give it to my eldest son! Let him fight valiantly for His Highness!"


    "Thud thud thud!"


    The intense war drums suddenly accelerated. Two thousand Guamare Warriors raised their shields and grasped their war clubs, forming a dense charging formation. Opposite them was the nearest mountain encampment of the Guajili people.


    The camp occupied a slightly elevated position, located on a small hill about several meters high, surrounded by a fence tall enough to reach a person¡¯s height. More than a thousand Guajili warriors were defending behind the fence, holding hunting bows and long spears. A Red Deer banner fluttered inside the camp.


    "Roar, roar, charge!"


    The young warrior clad in copper armor led the charge, fiercely roaring and leading two thousand warriors towards the camp!

 Chapter 635 - 330: Vanguard Attacks the Camp II

    "Swoosh swoosh swoosh!"


    Two thousand Guamare samurai ascended a small hillock and charged within fifty steps of the Red Deer camp, only for the Canine Descendants¡¯ hunters¡¯ bone arrows to fall like a sudden rain. Over a dozen samurai were struck in the head and face, their screams echoing as they tumbled down the hillock, leaving a trail of blood behind them.


    "Rear army, suppress with your shooting! Vanguard, follow me in the charge!"


    Chalki¡¯s eldest son Quino, clad in copper armor, puffed out his cheeks and bellowed loudly. The officers of various squads were prepared and followed orders. The samurai¡¯s formation quickly dispersed, dividing into a front and rear section.


    The rear army, consisting of five hundred samurai, drew their bows and fired rapidly at the palisade, suppressing the hunters inside. The howling arrow rain shot past the fences, and a dozen Canine Descendants¡¯ strong men wailed as they were hit, their incoming volley weakening.


    The vanguard of fifteen hundred samurai took the opportunity to quicken their pace and reached the palisade wall. Five hundred vanguard clad in cotton armor scaled the wall and roared as they engaged the Canine Descendants behind it. Samurais grouped in threes and fives, wielding war clubs, cutting through the enemy¡¯s chest and neck; Canine Descendants gathered in turns, thrusting out stone spears, piercing their opponents¡¯ waists and bellies. Weapons penetrated flesh, with blood and viscera flowing out along the wounds, the pungent smell of blood quickly spreading.


    Now and then, a red-haired hunter would release a stealthy arrow, hitting vital spots and bringing down the climbing samurai. At times, groups of samurai archers fired in volleys, turning the red-haired hunters into porcupines. Most warriors of both sides wore light or no armor, fighting around the rudimentary palisade, and in moments there were a hundred dead on each side! Mute bodies turned into silent corpses, overlapping on both sides of the palisade wall, as samurai continued to trample over them, climbing and fighting. The battle to seize the camp had just begun, and already it reached a climax!


    Arrows crisscrossed like rain, ferrying away the lives of warriors. Quino, repressing his killing intent, raised his shield to protect his head and neck, patiently waiting near the camp gate. Under the cover of the great shield, a dozen samurai took out bronze axes and hacked at the camp gate, damaging its structure. Then, an experienced samurai took out a rope, tied it to a support pillar of the camp gate, and a group of samurai let out a loud shout, yanking the rope together!


    "Crack... Boom!"


    The simple camp gate could no longer hold and collapsed with a crash, tearing open a half gap. Quino let out a battle cry and led dozens of his trusted aides directly into the camp.


    The Canine Warriors at the camp entrance fought to the death, stabbing repeatedly at Quino¡¯s armor without being able to breach his defense. Then, the ferocious war clubs descended, one by one cutting them down!


    "Roar, truly a treasured armor!"


    Quino shouted with excitement, tossing aside his shield. He held the club with both hands, foregoing defense, and charged fiercely forward, knocking down the obstructing Canine Warriors! Leading the charge like an arrowhead, dozens of trusted aides pushed forward, creating a breach in the camp. Guamare samurai then continuously poured in through the gap, relentlessly driving back the Guajili Canine Descendants. From a distance, gray-blue figures flowed like a tide, surging up from the base of the hillock, engulfing the simple camp!


    "Truly fearless warriors!"


    Xiulote smiled, praising Chalki.


    "Guamare samurai have been conserving their strength, and their attack today is indeed fierce and valiant!"


    "Haha, Your Highness, it is all thanks to the Chief Divine¡¯s protection!"


    Chalki bowed in a salute, then smiled with self-praise.


    "Your Highness, my Guamare samurai roam the wilderness, their bravery is not inferior to that of the Canine Descendants, and their tactics are far superior!"


    Xiulote nodded in agreement. He shifted his gaze towards the two thousand Guamare samurai who had yet to launch their attack. He saw many samurais¡¯ faces painted with stripes akin to those of the Canine Descendants, but mainly in blue. On their exposed shoulders and arms were also etched blue tattoos of eagles, wolves, bears, and leopards.


    "Guamare samurai, they really closely resemble the Canine Descendants..."


    The King mused silently. The western territory of the Guamare State was vast, the climate arid, the land barren, and the population sparse.


    On the west side of the state lived the Guamal people, to the north the Guajili; various groups mixed and fused with one another. Among the warriors of the Guamare State, it was clear there were many conscripted Guamal Canine Descendants, even Guajili Canine Descendants,


    "Chalki, with the various groups mixed in the Guamare State and customs alike, how do you distinguish between the kindred Otomi Tribes?"


    Xiulote asked with a smile.


    "Distinguish kindred tribes?"


    Chalki scratched his head. It took him a while to understand the King¡¯s question. The middle-aged chieftain¡¯s expression grew subtle as he replied awkwardly.


    "Uh... worshiping the ancestral gods, those who form marital alliances with us... they are our own people. Our military campaign this time...was initially in response to the call of the ancestral land priests...of course, now it is to fight to the death for His Highness!"


    "Mm. Praise be to the Supreme God and Chief Divine! And praise be to the ancestral gods as Subordinate Gods!"


    Xiulote nodded solemnly and prayed a sentence.


    "Praise the spirits! Chief Divine supreme! Ancestral gods second supreme!" S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Chalki also hastily echoed.


    Xiulote smiled without speaking, only contemplating in his heart.


    "The faith in the ancestral gods has been passed down for a thousand years and is an important bond among the tribes of the Northern Land; it cannot be easily discarded. And spreading the teachings of the Chief Divine is of urgent importance! Bloodline and faith are the foundation of ruling the Northern Land. The former requires immigration and intermarriage, the latter requires priests to spread the word. Besides this, we must also improve agricultural production and introduce trade methods..."


    "Roar! The flag has fallen!..."


    The King was contemplating when suddenly he heard a tumultuous cheer, boiling over and coming from the front. He looked up and saw that a grey-blue tide of people had already submerged the camp¡¯s center. Quino, clad in copper armor, was forceful breaking the Red Deer¡¯s flagstaff, brandishing it triumphantly for a couple of swings, and then flung it to the ground!


    Within the Red Deer camp, fifteen hundred Guamare samurai shouted in unison, their morale soaring. Nearly a thousand Guajili warriors let out a chaotic cry and then, led by the Red Deer Chieftain wrapped in a wolf robe, they fled en masse through the back gate.


    "Your Highness, protected by the Chief Divine, Quino has taken the camp!"


    Chalki¡¯s face was full of joy.


    "Good!"


    The King nodded in satisfaction and promised generously.


    "When he returns, I have a great reward for him!"


    The two talked and laughed loudly, both holding the winning ticket. In just a quarter-hour, two thousand Guamare samurai had taken the camp and routed more than a thousand warriors of the Red Deer Tribe.


    "Haha, the Guajili are nothing special!"


    Quino laughed heartily, filled with pride. Drenched in blood, he looked towards the fleeing enemy, his face full of killing intent.


    "A thousand samurai, follow me and pursue!"


    Having said this, he did not stop moving, leading his trusted aides out from behind, continuing the slaughter towards the fleeing enemy.


    The Guajili camp was built against the mountain, with the front and back mutually supporting each other, and the sides merging with the forest. Not far from the back camp, the dense forest stood on both sides, with birds circling in the sky. Half a mile directly behind, there was another camp, where a flag of the Red Monkey fluttered.


    The Red Deer Tribe fled swiftly, nearly a thousand warriors scattering in disorder, even blocking the mountain paths. The Red Deer Chieftain, clad in his conspicuous wolf robe, paused for a moment. He looked back and, panic-stricken, headed straight for the deep forest on the north side.


    "Where do you think you¡¯re running!"


    Quino, with eyes red, focused on the location of the Red Deer Chieftain, roaring as he relentlessly pursued. The Red Deer Chieftain, followed by dozens with red hair, vanished into the grim forest. Quino, without hesitation, also led three hundred samurai, charging into the quiet darkness.


    "Quick, blow the retreat conch!"


    "No good! Call him back!"


    Seeing the situation from afar, Xiulote and Chalki exchanged glances, both urgently shouting!

 Chapter 636 - 331: Vanguard Attacks the Camp III

    ```


    The autumn was in full swing, the sky high and the clouds cold. Shadows flickered in the mountain forests, withered leaves scattered in the breeze, and the earth was filled with a murderous aura.


    Quino pursued his prey tirelessly, running like a hunting dog, straight into the depths of the woods. Along the way, three hundred Guamare samurai slaughtered the scattering Red Deer Tribe, gradually spreading out until only two hundred remained closely following behind. After a long chase, he finally saw the Red Deer chieftain¡¯s footsteps falter. From more than a hundred steps away, the chieftain suddenly turned, gazing coldly back at him.


    "Haha! The damned Red Deer savage finally can¡¯t run anymore!"


    Quino was overjoyed. His war armor was quite heavy, and he panted heavily from the continuous running. Now, seeing the prey right before his eyes, the valiant samurai summoned his remaining strength and charged with his war club raised high.


    "Samurai, follow me and kill!"


    "Aoow! Devour them! Aoow..."


    With a war club in hand, the Red Deer chieftain pointed at Quino and shouted fiercely. A ghastly wolf howl then rose from the depths of the forest!


    Quino was shocked, his war club pausing in his hand. Slowing his charge, he looked around and sweat began to break out on his back. From the secluded woods around him, five to six hundred Canine Descendants¡¯ ambushers surged forth. They howled fiercely, lunging like a pack of wolves, at least two hundred with red hair! Despite the dense trees, these warriors moved at great speed. In just a few dozen breaths, dodging between dense foliage, Canine Descendants wielding stone hammers and long spears charged ferociously, ramming straight into the samurai¡¯s formation!


    Over five hundred howling Canine Warriors fought fervently against nearly two hundred Guamare samurai, entangling viciously and falling like dry branches. The heavy stone hammers crushed skulls with an audible snap of breaking bones; the sharp war clubs slashed through chests and necks, with blood spouting like fountains; now and then, stealthy bone arrows struck eye sockets, eliciting agonizing screams like those of a night owl!


    "Haha, foolish Otomi dogs! The forest is our domain, let¡¯s see how you escape!


    The Red Monkey chieftain, Ozoma, laughed out loud. He had first hidden deep within the forest, directing the Canine Warriors to surround the enemy, then he ordered the red-haired Hunters to draw close and shoot their arrows, and finally dispatched two troops of warriors to block the approaching enemy samurai. After completing all of this, he cautiously emerged from behind the trees, guarded by dozens of long spears of the guard unit.


    "Masate, you useless dull deer, once again I must come to your rescue!"


    In the Nava language, Masate means a running wild animal, referring to the deer at this moment and, later on, also taking on the meaning of a horse. In the twenty-day calendar, Masate is the seventh day, symbolizing the alertness of wild animals.


    "Hmph! Ozoma, I grew up in the mountains and am a red-haired Hunter of the forest! Had I not been luring the enemy, if I truly had fled with all my might, no one could have caught up to me!"


    Masate, the Red Deer chieftain, leaned against a tree, panting slightly, his words sparing no one¡¯s feelings.


    "And you, why have you only just arrived now!"


    "Ha, you still have the nerve to speak? We agreed you would hold out for at least half an hour, but look how long you lasted!"


    Ozoma curled his lips. He scanned the situation in the forest, his gaze settling on the fiercely fighting Quino. Then, a piercing conch horn sounded in the distance, and the Red Monkey Chieftain listened intently with a smile spreading across his face.


    "Haha, that¡¯s the Mexica retreat signal, but it¡¯s already too late!"


    Masate was momentarily speechless. He turned to summon his trusted aides, then looked at Ozoma.


    "Ozoma, the Southern Tribe is ferocious, every man armored! I had hidden two hundred red-haired fighters in the forest, and yet they were routed in a single charge... Hmph! If it were you, you wouldn¡¯t have held out any longer yourself!"


    "Haha, I understand, I understand! In the end, you still care about your own warriors. Which real-hearted leader would be willing to throw his elite here?"


    The Red Monkey Chieftain¡¯s eyes were spirited, and he flashed a grin. Then, he patted the shoulder of the Red Deer Chieftain and pointed towards the frontline battle formation.


    "That leading dog, how can he fight so fiercely? I¡¯ve seen him taking so many spears and still hopping around. Could it be, this is the thick skin the scouts spoke of? I wonder what kind of armor he¡¯s wearing..."


    Masate followed the gesture and fire flashed in his eyes.


    "Damn! It¡¯s this guy, who broke my tribe¡¯s banner and has been yapping after me like a hunting dog... Watch me shoot him dead!"


    The Red Deer Chieftain turned and shouted to his aides.


    "Bring me my Greatbow!"


    "Masate, the warriors are mixed in close combat, using the Greatbow can easily cause friendly fire!"


    Ozoma shook his head. He looked ahead, the forest floor littered with bodies. Under the attack of several hundred Canine Warriors, two hundred Guamare samurai had already suffered heavy losses. The remaining seventy or so were divided by the trees, grouped in small numbers and on the verge of collapse under the Canine onslaught.


    Not far off, Quino led a small group of twenty trusted aides, forming a small shield formation, desperately holding their ground. His aides were all peppered with arrows, with only Quino still fighting fiercely. And at the edge of the forest expanse, hundreds of Guamare samurai were trying to break through the blockades, desperate to fight their way forward.


    "We need to finish this quickly! Hmm, guard unit forward, use the long spears to target the warriors¡¯ legs! Right, Zucata, remember to spare that warrior¡¯s life!" S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Guard unit leader Zucata bowed in acknowledgment. He spoke with a hushed voice, but his accent differed from the Canine Descendants, clearly of a Southern dialect. Quickly, over thirty guards of the Chieftain formed a dense formation, each holding the long spears rarely seen among Canine Descendants. Under Zucata¡¯s command, the spear formation advanced quickly, nearing the struggling Quino. The Red Monkey warriors along the way made way for them obediently.


    Masate watched from the corner of his eye and caught sight of the gleaming spear tips overlapping in succession, much like a prickly hedgehog. With a flash of doubt, he asked quietly.


    ```

 Chapter 637 - 331: Vanguard Attacks the Camp III_2

    "Is this... a sharp spear from the south?"


    "Haha, these are Tarasco copper spears!"


    Ozoma smiled, waved his hand, and motioned for Masate to keep looking down.


    The guard captain roared, and the Chieftain guard thrust their copper spears simultaneously, aiming for the vanguard, Quino! Sharp copper tips crisscrossed from all directions, absolutely unavoidable.


    Quino immediately felt a pain in his flank, but with his copper armor protection, he was not pierced. He roared in fury, swinging his war club with all his might, barely managing to fend off a few attacks.


    Zucata¡¯s expression was wooden, but he agilely thrust with his copper spear, hitting Quino¡¯s calf. The valiant Samurai felt a sharp pain and his knees buckled, unable to support him any longer and he fell to the ground. Afterward, Zucata swung his spear and struck Quino on the back of the head with a thump, and the valiant Samurai blacked out, unconscious.


    "Spare him, continue killing!"


    The spear formation of the guards passed over the fallen Quino, and continued their alternating thrusts, stabbing down the surrounding warriors! In less than a quarter of an hour, the fighting in the depths of the forest came to a stop, with over two hundred Guamare warriors lying dead in an area, entangled with the bodies of over a hundred Canine Descendants.


    "Awooo! Woo!"


    As the last enemy fell in the forest, hundreds of Canine Warriors howled and danced, emitting cries like a pack of wolves. Then, like carrion birds, they pounced onto the bodies of the warriors, searching for any useful objects. The Canine people looted everything of use and even finished off the wounded from both sides. In the wilderness of the Tribes, medicine was scarce and life was cheap. Delivering the badly injured warriors from their suffering was a traditional practice and did not affect morale.


    The rich scent of blood wafted through the forest, and the cries of agony quickly dissipated. The Canine people eagerly donned the enemy¡¯s cotton armor and picked up the warriors¡¯ war clubs. From the forest at the edge of the mountains, the sounds of battle grew even more intense.


    Ozoma looked in the direction of the noise, where hundreds of Tribal Warriors had taken refuge among the trees, combating the advancing Guamare warriors. He turned his head, his expression solemn.


    "Masate, Otomi¡¯s reinforcement dogs are coming up. Should we retreat to our camp now, or fight a bit more?"


    "Don¡¯t rush, let¡¯s fight in the forest a bit longer! The terrain here is favorable for us. Having lost the camp, we must kill more enemies to answer to the Chichika leader. Moreover, these enemies are all elite with good equipment! Once the warriors have stripped them of their cotton armor, we¡¯ll leave!"


    The Red Deer Chieftain pondered briefly before making a decision. The Tribal Warriors continued to fight and die for their chieftains, shedding blood in the mountain forest. Then, he looked eagerly at the Red Monkey Chieftain.


    "Ozoma, your group of Chieftain guards wielding those cumbersome long spears, their power is so great! How were they trained?"


    "Haha, Masate, are you eyeing my guard?"


    Ozoma waved his hand, shaking his head and laughing.


    "Well, this is not our wilderness battle technique, and it might not be suited for combat in the wilderness..."


    "Ozoma, I of course know this isn¡¯t a wilderness battle technique! I¡¯m asking, how were they trained?"


    Masate¡¯s eyes widened, and he brandished the war club in his hand with a formidable air. Ozoma immediately took two steps back and waved him over.


    "Zucata, hurry up and come over here, stand by my side!"


    Zucata had already tied up Quino. Dragging the unconscious warrior with one hand and holding the stripped copper armor with the other, he strode to his chieftain¡¯s side.


    "For you, Chieftain! This one is a noble prisoner from the Otomi! And this should be a bronze Cloth Armor from the Mexica!"


    "Good! Zucata, my valiant club!"


    In the Prepetcha language, ¡¯Zucata¡¯ means a club or a branch. Ozoma praised him once and took the heavy Cloth Armor with both hands. Then, without changing his expression, he gestured casually.


    "Send two people to take the prisoner back to the rear camp."


    "Yes, Chieftain."


    "Ah! Is this the thick hide of the Cactus Tribe, impervious to both arrows and spears when worn?"


    A fervent gleam shone in Masate¡¯s eyes. He reached out, snatched the Cloth Armor, and greedily stroked it up and down. Beneath the thick and soft layers of cloth was a set of unusually sturdy bronze plates.


    "It¡¯s so sturdy, like a turtle¡¯s shell!... Right, you just said, what¡¯s it called, bronze Cloth Armor? What is bronze?"


    Upon hearing the question, Zucata was taken aback. He looked to the Red Monkey Chieftain, Ozoma. Ozoma smiled and gesticulated.


    "Masate, I can tell you the secret of the southern people. But this armor, this thick hide, is mine!" S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Damn! Cunning monkey, that¡¯s impossible!"


    Masate cursed aloud. He looked back at his followers, and the thought of the hundreds of casualties pained his heart.


    "Ozoma, this is what I got in exchange for the lives of five hundred warriors, and my personal efforts to lure the enemy! Even if the Chichika leader were to demand it in person, I wouldn¡¯t give it up!"


    As he spoke, the Red Deer Chieftain swung his war club, bringing a whoosh of wind. Ozoma promptly took another two steps back, cursing under his breath.


    "Stingy deer, I knew I shouldn¡¯t have come to your rescue! What is a piece of bronze Cloth Armor worth? Did you know, the powerful Kingdom to the south has thousands of these armors!"


    "Ah? Thousands of thick hides?"


    The Red Deer Chieftain looked shocked and incredulous.


    "Ozoma, are you bluffing me?"


    "Bluffing you? I¡¯m actually understating it. You have no idea about the strength of the southern Kingdom!"


    Ozoma shook his head.


    "Do you know about the Cactus Tribe¡¯s campaign to the west? The Divine Eagle Tribe and the Cactus Tribe both invoked their divine spirits, mobilizing a hundred thousand warriors! They fought over a vast terrain extending five hundred li north to south, from the Lerma River to the farther south Tarsas River, both rivers turned to red with blood!"

 Chapter 638 - 331: Vanguard Attacks the Camp III_3

    "Please invoke the spirits, a hundred thousand warriors?!"


    Masate exclaimed in shock. He was stunned for a moment, then suddenly laughed.


    "Ozoma, you¡¯re definitely bluffing me! I don¡¯t know where you heard such nonsense."


    "It¡¯s not nonsense, it¡¯s my personal experience. The Cactus Tribe really does have a hundred thousand warriors, capable of invoking the War God who can unleash thunderbolts."


    Zucata hung his head in silence, and it took him a while to finally say this much.


    Hearing this, the Red Deer Chieftain looked doubtful.


    "You? Personal experience?"


    The Red Monkey Chieftain said with a calm smile.


    "He¡¯s from the Divine Eagle Tribe. The small phalanx with long spears, he¡¯s the one who helped me train them!"


    There was a moment of silence in the woodland. Masate pondered without saying a word, Ozoma¡¯s eyes flickered, Zucata continued to stand stiff as a stick, and only the clashing at the edge of the forest continued.


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"


    A barrage of arrows flew out from the woods, felling dozens of charging Guamare samurai. Hundreds of samurai braved the rain of arrows, rushing into the woods, trying to save Quino trapped deep within. They fought hand-to-hand with thousands of Canine Descendants from two tribes, then entwined in death together.


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"


    Soon, the archers from the rear finally caught up, shooting desperately into the woods. Further away, one could see hundreds of Jaguar warriors. Clad in white-golden armor, holding patterned shields, and gripping sharp war clubs, they formed a well-ordered battle formation. They appeared indifferent and bloodthirsty like restrained beasts, quickly advancing from the camp.


    "Chieftain, the Jaguar warriors of the Mexica are coming! They are more elite than the Red Dog Hunters, excel in close combat, are familiar with the terrain of the forest, and now they are all clad in copper armor... With so few men, it¡¯s definitely impossible to resist! We can¡¯t stay in the woods, it¡¯s time to leave."


    Upon seeing the signature tiger heads, Zucata¡¯s pupils contracted violently, as terrible memories surged to his mind. He hung his head and hastily suggested. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Thick-skinned tiger heads!..."


    Ozoma¡¯s expression changed drastically. He took two steps forward and grabbed Masate¡¯s arm.


    "Quick, gather the tribal warriors! Retreat to my camp together!"


    "Ozoma, the woodland is our territory! Even if the enemy is more elite, what¡¯s there to fear in the woods?"


    Masate objected loudly.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! Roar, roar!..."


    The tiger roars of the Jaguar warriors became clearly audible, a sign that they were about to attack.


    "Enough talk! Gather the warriors! Retreat!"


    Ozoma¡¯s expression was stern. He took out a short bullhorn and blew a hurried, blaring sound. In the Red Monkey Tribe, a long horn call signified attack, a short horn call meant retreat. The Red Monkey warriors heard the brief horn sound, paused in their movements, and then swiftly turned and fled.


    "Damn it!"


    Masate protested with a curse. He also took out a Red Deer bone horn and blew a mournful call. Red Deer warriors hurriedly dropped their enemies and quickly fled into the woods. With no one left to obstruct them, the phalanx of Guamare samurai charged in, but they could not move quickly through the forest. Both chieftains immediately turned and, under the escort of their guard, quickly fled toward the Red Monkey camp to the East.


    "Ozoma, tonight I¡¯m going to lead the redheads on a night raid, trying to recapture the camp! We must let the warriors of the Cactus Tribe know our mettle!"


    While fleeing, Masate still had the energy to speak.


    "Huff... Masate, don¡¯t waste the lives of your warriors! Your camp is too far forward, and the terrain is not formidable enough, it¡¯s indefensible. In my view, we should abandon it and join me in defense!"


    "Hmph! Ozoma, your camp isn¡¯t exactly impregnable either. According to what you¡¯re saying, if the warriors of the Cactus continue their assault, it¡¯ll be just as indefensible!"


    "Huff... Then we abandon the camp, fight a battle in the woods, then retreat further back!... Huff... Don¡¯t run so fast!"


    Ozoma followed Masate, running through the rough mountain forest, swiftly leaping over tree roots and rocks. Soon, he gasped out loud. The front-running Masate slowed his pace, stretched out his hand mockingly to lend Ozoma support, and the Red Monkey Chieftain was finally able to relax a bit.


    "Masate, there are plenty of camps behind us! Behind us is the Red Deer camp, behind the Red Deer is the main camp of Red Dog, the most defensible and capable of holding out for a long time. And behind the main camp of Red Dog, there is the camp of Red Salamander. Huff... Further back, the Chichika leader has mobilized many tribespeople and continues to build camps. The mountain passages behind, they stretch for a good seventy or eighty li! As long as we occupy and defend the key points, even if the Mexica are fierce, we can hold them off for half a month to a month!"


    "Ah? Just half a month to a month?"


    Masate¡¯s expression changed upon hearing this.


    "You mean, hold them off until all the corn has been harvested?... But, the chief of Chichika demanded..."


    "Huff... Exactly, don¡¯t be fooled by Chichika! Chichika has been dazzled by the rich lands to the south, has burned foolish with the heat of power, he¡¯s forgotten he¡¯s a wolf on the wilderness. Ha! He has no idea how powerful the Mexica Alliance is! He still thinks he¡¯s the fierce Jaguar of the jungle, or even the unbeatable Black Bear of the mountains!"


    Ozoma¡¯s eyes twinkled as he scoffed.


    "Masate, as I see it, if it¡¯s defensible we defend, if it¡¯s not, we retreat! Just hold out for a while, harvest the corn, then it¡¯s freedom to return to the wilderness. These Mexica have come from the mountain city, pursuing us four hundred li, so we flee four hundred li north. At worst, after the Mexica are gone, we could move back south in a couple of years!"


    Masate was silent, his feet swift as the wind. Under the escort of a hundred trusted aides, they had already fled to the edge of the Red Monkey camp. The sounds from the Allied Forces behind them had vanished, seeming to have stopped the pursuit.


    Inside the camp, a red monkey flag fluttered in the wind, with a glint of red in the monkey¡¯s eyes. The guarding Canine Warriors watched briefly and then opened the camp gate, moving aside the wooden obstructions to welcome the honored Chieftain.


    Arriving here, the two Chieftains slowed down. After a long silence, Masate sighed softly.


    "Ozoma, you are the cunning Red Monkey, you do have a point. It¡¯s just that the Chichika leader doesn¡¯t think so. He has great prestige, commands over four thousand warriors, stationed in the formidable main camp, and controls the old camp at Pamus City... All the Great Tribes have to follow his orders."


    "Heh! Masate, Chichika now basks in prestige because the southward journey went smoothly, and he annexed a good number of small tribes! Look, these past few days, after two battles with the southern Allied Forces, he has already lost over seven hundred of his elite, and his influence has wavered. Let¡¯s retreat to the main camp, and have him face off with the Mexica again..."


    The Red Monkey Chieftain paused, stopping outside the camp. He looked at the Red Deer Chieftain sincerely.


    "Anyway, Red Deer, in all these years, I¡¯ve never harmed you! Today, I even sent troops to assist you... From now on, you must advance and retreat together with me!"


    "Ah! Red Monkey, you want to..."


    Masate¡¯s eyes widened, speechless for a moment, looking into Ozoma¡¯s eyes. Then, he bit his lip fiercely and hissed.


    "Red Monkey... Give me the heavy hides you¡¯ve captured today, and I¡¯ll agree with you!"


    "... Haha, agreed!"


    Ozoma paused for a moment, then burst into laughter. Without speaking further, he turned toward the camp, raising his voice to command those around him.


    "Send out two teams of red-haired Scouts, to gather the scattered warriors in the forest, and keep an eye on the enemy¡¯s movements! Tidy up the camp supplies, transfer the prisoners and food to the rear! Also, set up two teams of warriors in the forest to build thatched shelters for encampment. Right, stack the dry wood at the front camp, ready the fire. With the air crisp in autumn, if the Mexica come attacking, we¡¯ll give them a surprise!"

 Chapter 639 - 332: Vanguard Attacks the Camp IV

    "Your Highness, the Canine Descendants in the forest have been completely routed! Together with those in the camp, we have decapitated over seven hundred, about sixty of whom were red-haired. The Guamare warriors suffered nearly five hundred casualties. The Jaguar Warrior Brigade had over ten lightly wounded, with no fatalities..."


    A Jaguar warrior knelt under the Royal Banner, loudly reporting back to the King.


    "The majority of the enemy fled to their rear camp, should we pursue?"


    "No need to chase! Order the Jaguar Warrior Brigade to return to the Royal Banner and continue to guard the central forces! Command the Guamare warriors to return to the main encampment. Tonight, everyone will be rewarded with wine and meat! Order the Jiowar Battle Group to advance, and station two thousand Ottopan Warriors at the Red Deer camp!"


    Xiulote raised his head, glanced at the setting sun in the west, and continued to issue orders.


    "Deploy two more scout teams to keep watch on the edges of the mountains and forests, and at the same time, be vigilant against night raids!"


    "At your command, Your Highness!"


    Although they had successfully taken the Red Deer camp, the Guamare warriors had encountered an ambush in the forest and suffered too many casualties. These City-State warriors, with both the strengths and weaknesses of the Wilderness Tribes, were agile, brave, and fierce, yet impulsive, irritable, and lacking discipline. They belonged to vassal battle groups and were actually led by various tribal chiefs or Otomi nobility with their private armies, making direct control difficult.


    Thinking of this, Xiulote looked towards the nominal leader of the Guamare, the middle-aged Chieftain Chalki.


    Chalki¡¯s face was ashen. He hesitated for a moment, clenched his teeth, and began to speak with a tremor.


    "What are the casualties of the Vanguard warriors? Where is Quino?"


    The Jaguar warrior gave Chalki a sympathetic glance, then looked towards His Highness. With a slight nod from Xiulote, the Jaguar warrior replied loudly.


    "All the Guamare warriors in the forest have fought to their deaths! We found over two hundred bodies, but have not yet identified General Quino."


    "Ah! My eldest son! My family warriors!"


    Tears welled up in Chalki¡¯s eyes, his hands and feet trembling. Xiulote looked down in silence. After a long moment, the middle-aged Chieftain, with eyes red, made a request to His Highness.


    "Your Highness, please let me lead the forces to attack the next camp and avenge the fallen Guamare warriors!"


    "Granted! But the day has grown late today. Let us fight again at dawn tomorrow. I will send Temple Crossbowmen to bolster your ranks!"


    Xiulote nodded, patted Chalki on the shoulder, and comforted him.


    "The Chief Divine protects the warriors! General Quino¡¯s fate is unknown; there is still hope."


    Chalki bowed his head in silence. The King pondered for a moment and then promised. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Chalki, I have seen your courageous fight for the Alliance. No matter how much your family warriors have fallen, you will still be the leader among the Guamare factions! When the northern campaign is victorious, I will petition King Aweit, to confer on you hereditary nobility of the Alliance and command the Guamare City-State."


    Upon hearing this, Chalki raised his head, his face brightening, and tears instantly disappearing. He knelt on the ground and bowed deeply to His Highness.


    "Your Highness, you are the sacred wind, I am willing to serve you unto death!"


    A gust of wind passed by, stirring the clothes of both men. Xiulote nodded with a smile, looking towards the distant woods where dry leaves fluttered, much like lives about to perish.


    The next day, the fierce drumming of "dong dong" sounded, and the brutal slaughter began once more. Chalki personally led the elite two thousand Guamare warriors through the rugged mountain path to launch an attack on the Red Monkey camp. The Eagle Warrior Balda, leading one thousand Temple Crossbowmen, followed closely behind, providing long-range support.


    The Red Monkey camp, similar to the Red Deer camp, was located on a higher hillock, surrounded by a thick wooden fence for defense. On either side of the camp rose the undulating mountains to the north and south, and the deep, dense forests. At this moment, the camp was bustling with movement and cries. Over a thousand Canine Warriors were relying on the camp, waving their bows and Stone Spears, taunting the opposing Allied Forces.


    "Praise the Chief Divine!"


    Under Balda¡¯s leadership, the Temple Crossbowmen grasped their Amulets and prayed to the rising sun. Their faces alight with fervor, they chanted in unison, then lifted their crossbows.


    "Whiz whiz whiz!"


    Crossbow bolts shot forward, covering the eighty paces in an instant, savagely penetrating the encampment and instantly resulting in wails of agony. Dozens of Canine Warriors were struck down, bolts piercing through them and nailing into the earth, with blood spurting red.


    "Quick! Hide behind the wood, shoot arrows only when the enemy closes in!"


    Ozoma cautiously raised his shield, shouting loudly in the camp. Then, he tugged at the bolt stuck in the wood, struggling momentarily to pull it out.


    ```


    "Tsk, the crossbows of the Mexica pack such great power!"


    The Red Monkey Chieftain¡¯s face showed surprise. He once again tugged hard and finally pulled the arrowhead out, his eyes suddenly lighting up.


    "To penetrate so deep into the wood, it must be the sharp metal arrowheads! Ha-ha, Red Deer hiding in the woods still doesn¡¯t know the situation here. Once this battle is over, all these arrows will be mine!"


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    Another volley of arrows whistled through the air! Over a dozen Canine Descendants Hunters tumbled down from the rampart, while the rest laid low, hiding behind the sheltering fences and wood.


    Chalki nodded his head and swung his war club, pointing towards the encampment.


    "Brave Guamare warriors, charge, kill these cunning dogs!"


    "Aoow!"


    One thousand five hundred Guamare warriors howled and then rushed up the hill like beasts, arriving at the encampment in a moment. Some vanguard warriors hacked fiercely at the gates, while more climbed over the fences, engaging the Canine Warriors in close combat.


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    More than six hundred Tribal Huntsmen popped their heads out and fired arrows in unison from a distance of just over a dozen steps, felling a swath of warriors. There were as many as three hundred red-haired hunters in the camp. Their archery was especially ruthless, each targeting the vital points of their enemies¡¯ heads and faces, regardless of those tangled up in the fray. The skirmish barely lasted a moment before hundreds of warriors fell.


    "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"


    The Temple Crossbowmen advanced twenty steps, reaching the edge of the hill to support the warriors in close combat. Slightly tilting their crossbows upwards, they fired at the enemy¡¯s rear ranks! The fierce rain of arrows was like the fingers of the God of Death, piercing through the cotton armor of the elite hunters with ease, turning the Red Monkey¡¯s banner into a sieve.


    "Damn Mexica archers!"


    Ozoma held his shield, cursing under his breath. He quickly took off the chieftain¡¯s wolf robe and stuffed it under the wooden cover, then continued to command his tribe to resist.


    "Red-haired hunters, cover each other carefully and return fire against their archers!"


    "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!"


    Soon, a volley of precise bone arrows rained down from the hill, landing among the loosely formed crossbowmen and causing over a dozen casualties. Under pressure from the Temple Crossbowmen, the red-haired hunters stopped hunting enemy warriors and instead tried to suppress the firing of the crossbowmen.


    "Half the crossbowmen take up shields, the other half continue firing... ugh, despicable Canine Descendants!"


    Balda swung his war club, shouting orders, then was hit by two arrows. Fortunately, his copper armor took the brunt of the impact, and he merely staggered without injury. The people of Guajili were skilled in archery, especially proud of sniping officers and commanders.


    "Boom..."


    A great roar echoed through the front camp, followed by murderous cheers.


    "The gate is broken!"


    A large group of Guamare warriors poured through the shattered gate. They wore cotton armor and likewise wielded obsidian short spears and war clubs, engaging in a fierce struggle with the Canine Warriors. Both sides had tattoos on their bodies and shouted in nearly the same language, ruthlessly stabbing their weapons into each others¡¯ chests. The brutal close combat only lasted a moment before two or three hundred lay on the ground, their blood mingling on the soil.


    "Who else is there!... Ugh! Heh..."


    A Guamare brave roared loudly in the heat of battle, having just killed three enemies when a cold arrow struck him, hitting his throat precisely. The brave let out two hoarse cries and then fell backward, trampled underfoot by both sides. More Guamare warriors streamed in, the Canine warriors¡¯ line slowly retreating. Facing the fierce onslaught, the Canine Warriors resisted desperately, suffering heavy casualties. Behind them, occasional cold arrows from the red-haired hunters struck conspicuous warriors and nobility. The situation in the encampment was at an impasse for a moment, with life being rapidly extinguished and bodies piling up to form the fallen.


    "Damn it! With the Mexica warriors as their backbone, even the Otomi dogs have become so fierce!"


    Ozoma¡¯s expression was grim as he cursed bitterly. As he watched the dire battle unfold, he hesitated for a while and then clenched his fists tightly.


    "The arrows of the Mexica are too sharp. If we keep on fighting, the loss of our warriors will be too great!... Forget it, we don¡¯t need this camp anymore, not these copper arrows either!"


    The Red Monkey Chieftain finally made his decision. He turned his head and ordered his trusted aides.


    "The Otomi dogs have surged in! Stick to the plan, ignite the dry wood and grass. Cover with archery fire from the red-haired hunters, and have the warriors who haven¡¯t engaged yet retreat to the back camp gate! Once the fire picks up, we¡¯ll abandon the camp and retreat into the woods. Let¡¯s see the dogs howl in the flames!"


    ```

 Chapter 640 - 333: Vanguard Attacks the Camp - The End

    The rapid beat of war drums echoed through the mountains, drowning out the screams with intense battle cries. The pungent scent of blood spread through the camp, staining the withered grass and trees red. Suddenly, an excited shout rose from the vanguard attacking the camp.


    "The enemy is fleeing!"


    Xiulote stood on a hilltop, observing the battle. He saw nearly two thousand Guamare Samurai, like a tide of grey-blue, shouting and surging into the camp nestled among the mountains. The Canine Descendants were gradually unable to resist, retreating in disorder toward the rear camp, and it seemed that some areas had even caught fire. Then, a trusted aide of a chieftain, holding a long spear, removed the Red Monkey flag from the camp and fled to the rear.


    "The camp has fallen. Chalki did a good job!" S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The King showed a smile and nodded slightly. Large groups of Canine Descendants were dispersing from the rear of the camp, leaving only two or three hundred to cover their retreat, clearly unable to hold out for long. The King looked at the Head Warrior beside him.


    "Bertade, take five hundred Imperial Guards and tidy up the vanguard. Do not enter the woods to pursue a running battle with the enemy!"


    "As you command!"


    The Head Warrior bowed respectfully. Then he turned around, started gathering his Imperial Guards while surveying the situation in the camp, and soon furrowed his brow.


    "Your Highness, the camp is on fire."


    Xiulote looked into the distance and saw isolated flames igniting on the dry grass, which had already spread to large piles of wood. In just a moment, thick, pungent smoke rose from the heated battlefield, and the figures engaged in combat became vague, while the shooting of feathered arrows also started to thin out.


    "The fire has started quickly... The Canine Descendants were prepared, they set the fire deliberately!"


    "Indeed. The Canine Descendants deliberately burned the camp, it looks like they were prepared to retreat, their will to fight is not high."


    Bertade nodded in agreement, then his face showed worry.


    "It¡¯s the dry season without rain. The camp is close to the forest, and once a large fire starts, it might be difficult to extinguish!"


    "A forest fire..."


    Xiulote looked around at the surrounding forest, recalled the scenes from his memory, and gave a decisive order.


    "Sound the conch horn! Order the vanguard to retreat!"


    "Dii-dii!... Dii-dii!..."


    The sharp sound of the retreat conch horn blew, traveling hundreds of meters down the mountain path, past the thickening black smoke, right to the embattled camp.


    In the heart of late autumn, the air is dry, the vegetation turned yellow, and the camp had intentionally stored plenty of dry grass and wood, making it easy to burn. Once the raging fire surged, it quickly became unmanageable and ferociously spread to the surrounding area.


    The few hundred warriors at the frontlines, their eyes bloodshot and faces blackened by smoke, were still tightly entangled. They coughed forcefully while fighting fiercely, turning either their opponents or themselves into corpses. Surrounded by flames and dense smoke, blood splattered wantonly, and bodies piled up one after another. Soon after, the rolling flames licked close, and the air filled with an odd fragrance.


    Chalki, bent over and coughing, issued the order to retreat. He couldn¡¯t be concerned with the frontlines, now engulfed in flames, and led over a thousand Samurai, quickly fleeing towards the outside of the camp.


    The mountain wind blew chaotically, flames assaulted them, igniting the Samurai¡¯s armor and garments. The mature chieftain did not stop his feet, slapping at the flames clinging to his burned cotton armor. By the time he escaped the camp, his cotton armor was burnt through, and even a large chunk of his hair had been singed off.


    Balda managed to hold back a laugh upon seeing the middle-aged chieftain¡¯s bald head and blackened face. Hm, a middle-aged bald head, somewhat fittingly comical. Then he looked forward, where rolling, thick smoke was rising, completely obscuring the line of sight for shooting. The blistering hot wind blew from the front, still bringing warmth despite the tens of steps separating them.


    Before long, piercing screams arose in the burning camp, where shadowy, smoke-covered figures could be seen frantically running, then collapsing to the ground. The suffocating smoke robbed the warriors of their ability to act, and as the fire approached, they let out their final sounds, followed by nothing but the crackling of burning.


    "The fire is so vast, the battling Guamare Samurai..."


    Balda sniffed the burnt scent in the wind and shook his head. He quickly swung his War Club, shouting to the left and right.


    "All troops retreat, keep away from the forests on both sides!"


    At the edge of the forest, the Red Monkey Chieftain, Ozoma, looked on despondently, staring blankly at the fire that swept through the camp.


    The fierce flames kept spreading like a terrifying Evil Demon. The demon opened its mouth wide, completely engulfing the camp. It was such a voracious seeker of life, devouring not only the more than four hundred Guamare Samurai at the front but also over two hundred Canine Warriors at the rear. Then, it thrust out its burning claws towards the forests on both sides. The thick smoke, like the demon¡¯s Scouts, had surged into the forest ahead of the flames, forcing the ambushed troops out of hiding. Thousands of Canine Warriors cried out in terror, creating utter chaos.


    Red Deer Chieftain, Masate, ran out from the forest, sprinting towards us. He looked at the fire that grew fiercer, blackening the sky, his face instantly losing color, then exploding with rage.


    "Cough, cough! Cough, cough!... Damn it, Red Monkey, what have you done!"


    "I was... preparing a surprise for the Mexica... just lit a fire..."


    Ozoma looked at the approaching flames, his face a mix of laughter and tears. He only intended to ignite the camp, never imagining the entire mountainside would be set ablaze.


    In just a few moments, the fire at the camp had already completely blocked the mountain path, and without any sign of stopping, it spread in the wind, igniting the oily pines and cypresses. Soon, a great fire blazed in the forest, and surging waves of heat swept over them, setting the hair of many Canine Warriors alight, causing them to retreat in panic.


    "Damn! Damn my red hair!... Ozoma, did you start this fire in the autumn forest to burn us all to death?"


    Masate covered his head, taking an angry step forward. Then he grabbed Ozoma by the collar with one hand and shook him violently.


    "What are you still looking at! The mountain fire has started! There¡¯s no rain this season, it won¡¯t stop until it has consumed these dozen miles of forest! Aren¡¯t you fleeing with me? The forest is completely different from the wilderness, how can you be the clever Red Monkey..."


    After roaring a few words, Masate grabbed Ozoma by the arm, leading hundreds of trusted aides, and ran like their lives depended on it towards the camp at the rear. The Canine Warriors from both tribes stumbled along the mountain road, fleeing desperately towards the East. Occasionally, a panicked Canine Warrior would fall and get injured, swallowed by the pursuing flames.


    The mighty breeze rolled along the mountain road, and with it, the vast wildfire spread. The thick smoke blocked out the sun, and the air was filled with a pungent smoke smell. Once a forest fire gained momentum, it was beyond human power to extinguish. Before the ferocious flames, tens of thousands of Allied Forces Warriors and Canine Warriors were forced to retreat, withdrawing more than ten miles in succession.


    Xiulote abandoned the Red Deer camp, retreating all the way back to the main camp at the rear. He first urgently ordered the army to fall back, then gathered thousands of warriors, collected all Bronze Axes from the Imperial Guards, and worked day and night in sparser parts of the forest to clear a firebreak. In less than two days, the wildfire had burned towards them along the forest, devouring the Red Deer camp and reaching right before them.


    In this era where civilization was just beginning, nature¡¯s flames were always attributed to the will of the divine, burning also within the hearts of the warriors. In the face of the approaching wildfire, the Otomi Warriors were frightened and disordered, seeing it as an ominous sign, clamoring for retreat.


    "Praise be to the Chief Divine! He protects us, and even the fierce fire cannot surge forward!..."


    In front of the vast wildfire, the King erected a high sacrificial altar and conducted a sacred ritual. To appease the greedy spirits, and even more so to calm the tens of thousands of anxious, restless troops, two hundred sixty Canine captive were sacrificed in the ritual, bound and thrown into the fire. After the grand sacrificial rite, the surging wildfire finally stopped before the firebreak.


    "Huff, huff... The mountain fire has finally ceased, and the morale of the Otomi Warriors has stabilized!"


    Xiulote stood solemnly high upon the altar, overlooking the legion below. Thousands of Otomi Warriors lay prostrate, praying devoutly to the Chief Divine, beseeching divine protection. Subsequently, twenty thousand warriors got up one by one, their eyes looking up at the King with reverence, as if looking towards a deity.


    "The power of the wildfire is truly immense..."


    Xiulote gazed towards the East, the sky-high flames still burning on both sides of the mountains, consuming all living things. Flocks of birds flew far away to escape, and the once-burned forest was filled with silence. Witnessing this scene, a new strategy emerged in the King¡¯s mind.


    "Hmm, I wonder how the other Canine Descendants are faring now?"

 Chapter 641 - 334: October Meteor, Tribes Re-discuss

    October came with flames that connected the sky, descending from the smoky heavens onto the Eastern Madre Mountains in the Northern Land. It was the season when vegetation withered, leaves from trees in the mountains fell, and pine needles carpeted the forest floor. Once the terrifying wildfire ignited, it rapidly spread along the mountains, carrying the momentum to devour everything!


    The wildfire traveled through the mountain forests unchecked. Ozoma and Masate relentlessly led more than two thousand warriors, fleeing from the Red Monkey camp to the Red Deer camp, and then, taking along the Red Deer Tribe, escaped to the long-established main camp of the Red Dog.


    The Red Dog Chieftain, Chichika, had no time to reprimand before flames, towering tens of meters high, rushed towards them. Thousands of Canine Descendants had to abandon their well-fortified main camp, leave behind their disheveled supplies, and continue their frantic escape eastward. Then, the ferocious wildfire engulfed the Red Salamander camp, burning a path of ash twenty miles long before it stopped at the turning mountain range and gradually subsided.


    Here, the mountain path extending eastward suddenly turned north, merging into the main vein of the Eastern Madre Mountains. The terrain of the main vein was even steeper and more treacherous, with large areas of brown mountain rock exposed, and the forests became sparser. Further north, fifty miles away, was Pamus Valley, where tens of thousands of Canine Descendants gathered.


    The terrifying fire finally stopped! All five tribes, thousands of Canine Warriors, collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was grimy and dusty, tormented by a psychological shadow from the fire. Amidst the devastating fire, many ordinary tribes lost morale and scattered in disarray.


    Fortunately, the Canine Descendants were always fast runners with not much baggage. Each of the five great tribes gathered their scattered troops and rested in a newly constructed camp at the rear. Although this new camp was located on dangerous terrain and recently built, it was the last line of defense against the southern Allied Forces.


    The leader Chichika was weary from travel but settled down in the camp. Then, he immediately took stock of his manpower and called together the chieftains of all tribes to commence the Tribal Army council.


    "...So you¡¯re saying, out of the seven thousand warriors in various camps, only five thousand have gathered here at the new camp now?!"


    The Red Dog Chieftain clenched his fist, his eyes seemingly ablaze with anger. He had led nearly ten thousand warriors, all high in spirit, on this campaign! Even though the Red Dog, Red Deer, and Red Monkey Tribes had fought successively and lost more than two thousand men, there were still at least seven thousand left. Yet, after the wildfire, only five thousand warriors remained, most with low morale and in disarray as if defeated.


    Hearing this, the Red Salamander Chieftain Axolotl coughed softly and lowered his voice to explain to the leader.


    "Great Chief, the losses among our elite were minimal. The two thousand warriors who dispersed were mainly from regular tribes recruited for the campaign. When the fierce wildfire hit, discipline among the tribes broke down, and the tribe members were the first to flee. They ran along the mountain path and likely headed straight back to the valley."


    Hearing Axolotl¡¯s words, Chieftain Chichika¡¯s face remained expressionless, but he unclenched his fist.


    It¡¯s worth mentioning that in the Nava language, Xiulote (Xolotl) represents the black celestial dog, symbolizing fire and thunder, death, and rebirth. However, the meaning of Axolotl refers to an aquatic salamander. These two names are quite similar. Because the salamander can regenerate limbs, it symbolizes the power of death and rebirth, thus it has also been endowed with divinity by the ancestors of Nava. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Among the tribes, the Red Salamander Tribe was the first to submit to Chieftain Chichika, hence they were stationed in the rearmost camp, in charge of logistical matters. Axolotl, who had witnessed the entire rout, was well aware of the circumstances of each tribe and remained calm. He smiled and continued.


    "Great Chief, although the fire that struck was fierce, it burned in a straight line, leaving enough room for escape. Very few warriors actually perished in the fire. If you send envoys back to the valley, you can recruit them again! The food reserves in the camps are less than half a month¡¯s stock, and the baggage is minimal; even if it was burned, it¡¯s not a big loss."


    "Moreover, this great fire has cut off the entire mountain path, holding back the southern Allied Forces for a good ten days! Perhaps the Cactus Samurai on the other side have already dispersed in the great fire. It¡¯s currently harvest season ¨C by the time they attack again, all tribes will have completed harvesting corn, and there will no longer be concerns about food shortages!..."


    Chichika listened for a moment with a dark expression. He first nodded in agreement, then shook his head silently. Next, the Red Dog Chieftain picked up a sturdy cowhide whip and walked towards the disheartened Ozoma.


    "Ozoma, do you realize your guilt?"


    The Red Dog Chieftain spoke out with a voice as cold as a frigid tide.


    Ozoma lifted his head, met Chieftain Chichika¡¯s gaze, and shuddered.


    "Chichika, I am not guilty! The forests in the autumn are prone to catching fire, and due to the reliance on the forests for defense, all camps were vulnerable! Although it was I who started the fire this time, causing the army¡¯s dispersion... if the Aztecs had attacked the main camp, setting a fire in the woods, we would all have been doomed!..."


    Ozoma cried out repeatedly. He had pondered these reasons for several days, finding excuses. And indeed, the locations of the camps were chosen by Chichika himself.


    "Ozoma, do you realize your guilt?!"


    Chichika suddenly became furious. His gaze was sharp as a knife, containing lethal intent, and he tightly gripped the leather whip, which creaked.


    "I... I am not..."


    Masate stealthily extended his foot and kicked Ozoma¡¯s knee. The Red Monkey Chieftain came to his senses. He looked around the tent, saw the Red Salamander and Red Deer Chieftains mocking him without cause, and the other minor chieftains all showing dissatisfaction. Under the collective anger of the tent, if Chichika ordered his execution... Ozoma¡¯s heart jolted, his knees buckled, and he fell to the ground.

 Chapter 642 - 334: October’s Fallen Leaves, The Tribes Deliberate Again_2

    "Great Chief, I acknowledge my crime! ... The Red Monkey Tribe first ambushed in the forest and then fought a deadly battle at the camp, killing over a thousand enemies, suffering heavy casualties ourselves. Please, in consideration of the warriors¡¯ achievements, forgive my mistake!"


    Seeing the kneeling Ozoma, Chichika¡¯s expression eased slightly. He suppressed the murderous intent in his heart and bellowed.


    "Ozoma, you have made a grave mistake, causing the Alliance to lose three camps! As the Chieftain, considering your achievements in battle, I will spare your life! Now, remove your Wolf Robe, turn around, and receive fifty lashes!"


    "Ah? Fifty lashes..."


    Upon hearing this, Ozoma kneeled on the ground, his face pale. He looked pleadingly at the Red Deer Chieftain opposite him.


    Masate¡¯s eyebrows twitched. If fifty lashes really came down, Ozoma might very well be whipped to death! Chieftain Chichika was exploiting the situation to make a point and show his power by killing the monkey to establish his authority. After hesitating for a moment, sighing in his heart, he stood up nevertheless.


    "Respectful Chichika Great Chief! The Southern Allied Forces are fierce in their attack, yet the Red Monkey Chieftain resolutely resisted. He set ambushes in the forest, provided support to me, and made contributions to the alliance! The act of setting the fire was due to the Southern Allied Forces pressing too hard, leaving no choice but to use the flames to block the enemy... I implore the Great Chief for understanding!"


    "During the ambush earlier, the Red Deer Tribe surrounded and killed the enemy general, capturing a set of precious Thick Leather Armor! It is impervious to arrows and spears, exceptionally sturdy, and only a true warrior can wear it. Great Chief, I am willing to offer this Thick Leather Armor to you, please forgive Ozoma for his transgressions!"


    Upon saying this, the Red Deer Chieftain knelt on one knee and bowed his head respectfully.


    "Hmm? The Cactus Samurai¡¯s Thick Leather?"


    Chichika was a bit surprised. He eyed the submissive Red Deer Chieftain and fell silent in deep thought.


    Among the various tribes of the Valley, the Red Salamander and Red Crane Tribes were the most submissive, followed by the Red Deer Tribe. The Red Monkey Tribe was the strongest and always the most defiant. Therefore, in this campaign, he had placed the Red Deer and Red Monkey Tribes at the very front, to confront the enemy first in battle.


    The wildfire was sudden, but the outcome was not unexpected. The Red Monkey Tribe lost eight hundred warriors, becoming the weakest of the five tribes, while the Red Deer Tribe lost six hundred, only slightly better than the Red Monkeys. Both suffered heavy losses, and their Chieftains became more submissive. If they could be subdued and harnessed, there was no need to kill Ozoma outright.


    Thinking this, Chichika¡¯s expression softened.


    "Masate, present the Thick Leather Armor!"


    The Red Deer Chieftain nodded and had his trusted aide present the Treasured Armor. Chichika felt it with his hand, delighting in his heart. He grinned and nodded slowly.


    "Killing the enemy leader and capturing the Thick Leather Armor can indeed compensate for some of your faults! Ozoma, since it¡¯s your first offense, you will be punished with twenty lashes! Are you satisfied?"


    Ozoma bit his lip, lowering his head to hide the resentment in his eyes. He replied in a low voice.


    "Respectful Great Chief, your judgment is just, I am convinced!"


    "Good, turn around."


    Chichika gave a cruel smile, raised the leather whip in his hand, and lashed down mercilessly!


    "Snap! Snap! Snap!..."


    "Ahhh! Ahhh!"


    Ozoma kneeled on the ground. At first, he gritted his teeth and endured the punishment, but eventually, he couldn¡¯t resist screaming out in agony. Hearing the screams, many Chieftains felt a shiver inside at first, then showed mocking smiles and ridiculed in low voices. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ozoma cries out like a monkey, truly disgracing the warriors of the Wilderness..."


    "With such a weak Chief, it¡¯s no wonder they couldn¡¯t withstand the Otomi¡¯s dog assaults..."


    After the twenty lashes, Ozoma could no longer hold himself up. Covered in blood, he collapsed to the ground like a dead monkey, losing all his face.


    Chichika put down the blood-stained whip. He squatted down slowly, grabbed Ozoma¡¯s hair, stared into the eyes of the Red Monkey Chieftain, and said coldly.


    "In the tradition of the Southern Tribes, there will be one Great Chief, ruling over all the tribes. He is supreme, receives the submission of all common Chiefs. The ceremony of submission is to grab the other¡¯s hair... Now, Ozoma, submit to me!"


    "Great Chief, I... I... I submit to you..."


    Ozoma¡¯s voice was hoarse. He opened his mouth, responding with difficulty, not daring to show any discontent.


    "Good! The Great Chief is dignified, as well as just. He punishes the erring Chieftains and rewards the warriors for their merit. Ozoma, I have personally punished you for your mistakes. Now, it¡¯s time to reward your warrior¡¯s achievements!"


    Seeing Ozoma¡¯s reverent expression, Chichika nodded with satisfaction. He stood up, paused, his face showing a hint of reluctance, then switched to a majestic demeanor. Then, the Red Dog Chieftain took the heavy Bronze Cloth Armor in one hand and placed it next to Ozoma.


    "Ozoma, this set of Thick Leather Armor captured by the Red Deer Chieftain, I bestow upon you!"


    "Ah! The Thick Armor?"


    Masate gasped in surprise. He looked at Ozoma on the ground, who was touching the Armor, his face full of disbelief.


    "This... this... Thank you, Great Chief!"


    Ozoma felt somewhat dazed. He bit his teeth and got up from the ground, bowing to Chieftain Chichika with a newfound sense of awe.


    "Not bad! Ozoma, you withstood my twenty lashes and still got up, you are a tough warrior!"


    Chichika grinned again. He waved his hand, and his trusted aide brought over a clay jar. Then, the Red Dog Chieftain helped Ozoma up and handed him the jar.


    "This is a precious Herbs potion prepared by the tribe¡¯s Witch Doctor! It can heal wounds and is not susceptible to the God of Death¡¯s Mana. This jar, I give it all to you! Ozoma, rest in the rear camp for a few days. The Red Monkey warriors have lost many, fled to here in disarray, and their morale is quite low, they also need to regroup!"


    "Thank... Great Chief..."


    Ozoma took the clay jar filled with Herbs, listening to Chichika¡¯s comforting words, responding in a low voice. At that moment, a sense of gratitude absurdly rose in his heart. Then, the Red Monkey Chieftain silently clenched his teeth, shivered, and began to indulge in wild thoughts.

 Chapter 643 - 334: October Meteor, Tribes Discuss Again_3

    "Damn Chichika, is he using witchcraft on me? Why would I feel grateful to him..."


    Chichika gave a faint smile, nodding, then turned to look at the Red Deer Chieftain. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And you, Masate, the Red Deer Tribe fought hard, suffering heavy casualties. You too, lead your people to the rear camp to rest for two days. After we repel the Cactus Tribe, and return to the Valley, I will replenish your losses!"


    "Thank you, respected Great Chief! The Red Deer Tribe is willing to fight for you!"


    Masate was quite grateful, and also paid his respects.


    Chichika nodded with a smile, and even tugged at Masate¡¯s hair. Between punishment and reward, he distinguished the majesty of a Great Chief. The tribe leaders inside the tent looked on in awe, all bowing their heads in submission.


    Amoxtli stood in the corner of the large tent, silently observing everything. The newly appointed Red Crow Chieftain¡¯s gaze was deep, etching every moment into his memory. In the days he had followed Chichika, the door to a new world was slowly opening to him, silently transforming him.


    A moment later, he silently looked outside the camp. Although the great wildfire was gradually extinguishing, the flame in his chest had just begun to ignite.


    "The truly powerful warrior is the leader who commands all warriors, the Wolf King who drives the wolf pack!..."


    Not long ago, a wildfire had struck, causing chaos. Amoxtli had thought about escaping amidst the confusion, but ultimately did not. Because the tribe¡¯s warriors with red hair stayed in the army¡¯s rear camp, including Alan, together with the Red Salamander warriors they acted in unison, tangling with each other, making it difficult to break away. Ever since he had last saved Uman, Chichika had not turned his anger on Amoxtli, instead, he began to trust his abilities, intending to promote and cultivate him. This important military council, he too was allowed to attend.


    "My chiefs, my warriors!"


    After punishes and rewards the two chieftains, Chichika stood tall. With an exuberant tone, he confidently shouted at everyone.


    "Although our camp was burned in the wildfire, it also gained us precious time! Now, this newly built camp controls the valley passage, the mountain is majestic and towering, the terrain even more dangerous! As long as we hold this place, neither the weak Otomi dogs nor the barbarously brave Cactus Samurai can do anything!"


    "Our old camp, Pamus Valley, is just fifty li behind this camp! Now, our food is no longer scarce; we harvested a lot of corn. You all heard from the tribe¡¯s Messenger, the farmland¡¯s yield in the Valley greatly surpasses that of the Wilderness! Such fertile land, we must hold on to it and claim it as our own!"


    "The wildfire came, and some warriors were demoralized, but the Southern Tribes too suffered greatly in the wildfire, also suffering heavy losses! Now, I have already sent out Envoys, drafting warriors stationed in various tribes from the Valley, gathering ten thousand reinforcements! With enough food and brave warriors, we can hold this mountain stronghold until the enemy dies of old age!"


    "...Warriors, I will not say more of these trivial things! As long as we repel the Cactus Tribe, our fierce Guajili people, can stay in the rich Valley and establish a powerful City-State Alliance! At that time, all losses of the tribes, can be replenished through looting. I will lead you all to the south, to grab more food, skilled craftsmen, and the tender southern women! Howl!!"


    "Listen to the Great Chief! Repel the enemy, take over the Valley! Howl! Howl! Howl!!"


    Hearing Chichika¡¯s call to war, the large tent immediately turned chaotic. The Red Salamander and Red Monkey chieftains were the first to shout in agreement, followed by the Red Deer and Red Monkey. All the tribe leaders roared aloud, even the punished Ozoma yelled hoarsely.


    "Grab food, grab craftsmen, grab southern women!!"


    The frenzied shouting echoed in the large tent, even the shadows flickering in the campfire, changing into greedy shapes like fish hooked by desire.


    Shadows cast over Amoxtli in the corner, covering his face, making him lower his gaze. He once again thought of Kakalo, recalling the old Chieftain¡¯s parting words.


    "Aximo, the world of the Wilderness is vast. The tribes are constantly migrating, the eagle flies far away in its flight, everything is for the sake of vitality and hope, for heritage and continuation... We cannot resist the shadows, it¡¯s time to leave..."

 Chapter 644 - Three Hundred and Thirty-Five: An Unexpected Encounter

    The October wind was filled with silence, and even the sun felt mildly cool. Thousands of Samurai marched silently through the scorched woods, their footsteps resounding with a crackling noise at every stop. When they lifted their feet again, their straw sandals were dyed black with wood ash. Along the way, they sporadically encountered charred human forms, but their identities were no longer discernible. The perilous wildfire had just passed, and the birds and beasts of the mountains, having fled far away, had yet to return. Along the path, only the godlike traces of destruction left a deep reverence in the hearts of mortals.


    "Blessings of the Chief Divine! Praise to His Highness!..."


    Fervent prayers rose from the ranks of the Samurai, drifting beneath the Royal Banner of Black Wolf.


    The King halted his steps, pausing for a brief rest. He raised his head to watch the birds loitering in the sky and saw a high mountain rising to the northeast. As they progressed further, the mountain path did not narrow but grew increasingly steep. His gaze then shifted to the forest¡ªthe burnt landscape offered a clear view, extending far into the distance. The Guajili people had not launched an attack here, and the army¡¯s passage went extremely smoothly.


    "We set off in early August, and now it¡¯s mid-October. The corn harvest is just about finished, and the Guajili people are no longer short of food. I hope they¡¯re still lingering in the Valley, not scattered and fled into the vast Wilderness!"


    Xiulote looked into the distance, lost in thought.


    When they set off from the Otomi Mountain city, the three legions counted more than twenty-seven thousand strong, with several thousand Militia maintaining the supply lines. The great army marched north, annihilating Tribes along the way, then conquering the Red Fox Valley. They had suffered losses exceeding two thousand, with nearly thirty thousand prisoners captured. Afterward, one thousand five hundred Otomi Warriors and three thousand Militia were left behind to garrison the Valley and continue to secure the supply lines. Three thousand Canine Warriors were extracted and followed the main force to campaign to the East.


    In the eastern mountain paths, the Ottopan Warriors and Guamare Samurai had faced the Canine Descendants in several encounters, suffering two thousand dead and hundreds wounded. The number of enemies the great army had killed was also roughly the same, around two thousand.


    "This is the result with Mexica Samurai providing support. In fact, the battle strength of the Canine Descendants¡¯ main force is clearly a notch above the Otomi legions. Their actions are swift, their tactics more flexible, and they have an advantage in the forest terrain... No wonder in the previous southern invasion, they pressed the Otomi Tribes so hard they could hardly raise their heads."


    Xiulote shook his head. The Otomi Warriors from the three states were all conscripted vassal legions. They were composed of private armies from various Tribes and were not supported by the Kingdom, making it difficult to intervene and retrain them. Although these troops¡¯ discipline was poor, their combat effectiveness on home ground was passable; they could fight a winning battle with the wind at their backs.


    Now in his hands, there were over twenty-one thousand strong. Seven thousand Ottopan legions forged the way ahead, more than five thousand Imperial Guards provided support in the middle forces, and the remaining nearly ten thousand were in the rear forces. The width of the battlefield within the mountain paths was limited; even including the woodlands on both sides, at most just over ten thousand from each side could engage in battle at the same time. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The lengthy marching column of troops stretched for over ten miles. After half a day¡¯s march, Xiulote had a Scout report back to him.


    "Your Highness, about ten miles ahead we¡¯ve encountered an enemy encampment! The banners of the Canine Descendants¡¯ various Tribes are all there; they¡¯ve encamped in a strategic spot and are prepared to defend it to the death!"


    Hearing that the Canine Descendants were still there, the King breathed a sigh of relief. Then, leading his trusted aides, he hastened for more than ten miles and arrived at the new encampment of the obstructing Canine Descendants. After surveying the terrain, he inhaled sharply.


    The long mountain path here took a sudden turn northward, and along with the mountains on both sides, rose tens of meters, forming a steep incline. The incline was flanked by rugged and steep rocks, difficult to scale. A brand-new encampment perched at the end of the incline. From its elevated position, it completely blocked the mountain road!


    Upon closer examination, this encampment was actually quite rudimentary. Its perimeter had a wooden fence, followed by a sturdy low wall made of mixed wood and stone. On the low wall, thousands of Tribal Warriors moved about restlessly, their heads bobbing in the thousands. And the number of red-haired Hunters exceeded a thousand. Seeing the approaching Allied Forces, many Canine Warriors shouted curses and made various provocative gestures, seemingly high in morale.


    Xiulote observed the enemy¡¯s demeanor for a while, categorizing them clearly into two types: one chaotically shouting, the other silent and calm. He quickly made a judgment.


    "Most are new troops, but they are not elite!"


    Further back, the large banner of Red Dog stood tall, surrounded on all four sides by Tribes¡¯ banners of various sizes, clearly delineating rank and importance. Beyond the banners, one could faintly make out a large area of disordered grass nests and a half-completed rear wall.


    "Haha, the Canine Descendants have chosen a good location but built a turkey nest!"


    Xiulote observed for a moment, then suddenly burst out laughing. Afterward, he turned to the Otomi generals.


    "It¡¯s a pity my Black Wolf isn¡¯t here. Who wishes to act as Vanguard and test them for me?"


    Chief Mespa bowed his head, saying nothing. Chalki Great Chieftain¡¯s expression flickered with indecision. Only Prince Jiowar narrowed his eyes, stepped forward, and responded loudly.


    "Your Highness, the Ottopan Warriors can serve as Vanguard!"


    Xiulote took in the reactions of all the generals. Then, he nodded to Jiowar and smiled.


    "Good! Prince Jiowar, send two thousand Warriors out, carry more Great Shields and test the mettle of the Canine Descendants. I will send you a thousand Crossbowmen to reinforce!"


    "Thank you, Your Highness!"


    With Copper Armor adorning his body, Jiowar bowed and departed.


    "Thud thud thud!"


    Soon, the low rumble of war drums began to sound, and scores of grey-blue clad Warriors formed a battle line in front of the encampment. Jiowar started to rally morale. Thousands of Crossbowmen took up position behind, ready to provide covering fire.


    Above, on the high encampment, the Canine Descendants also began to separate, bustling about like ants. The red-haired Hunters claimed the best shooting spots, readying their bows and arrows. Some Tribal Warriors held up wooden boards to shield the Hunters. Meanwhile, others stood by piled-up rocks, poised to throw them at a moment¡¯s notice.

 Chapter 645 - 335 Unexpected Encounter_2

    ```


    "Huh, it does follow some patterns."


    Xiulote¡¯s eyes sparkled as he scrutinized the details of the camp. His gaze swept over a small but noticeable squad of long spearmen before settling on the flag of Red Dog. There, a tall, indistinct figure was clad in a Chieftain¡¯s Wolf Robe and was also looking this way.


    "...Uman, the one wearing golden armor and a face helmet, is that the Great Chief, God of Death?"


    Chichika narrowed his eyes, looking toward the Black Wolf banner on the opposite hill, and then turned his head to ask.


    "Er... yes, Chieftain. I¡¯ve heard... that banner holds Mana... one shouldn¡¯t look at it too much."


    Uman, holding a shield with one hand, faithfully guarded in front of Chief Red Dog and responded hesitantly. He had previously been hit in the left arm by an arrow from the Head Warrior, the arrowhead penetrating nearly an inch into the flesh, but fortunately not reaching the bone. As a trusted aide of the Great Chief, he naturally received the best treatment. Witch Doctor Priests used the spiritual "Holy Medicine" on him, which included spineless Cactus balls and dried black feather jade slices.


    In the Northern wilderness tribes, black feather jade had been widely used as a medicine for over five thousand years. The earliest archeological specimen was found at a prehistoric site of the indigenous people of Texas around 3700 years ago. It contains barley malt alkaloid with antibacterial properties that are effective against both bacteria and fungi, which could serve as a substitute for Penicillin to some extent. It also has strong analgesic effects and is often used for the sharp pains of childbirth in women.


    Of course, among the wilderness tribes, the most important effect of black feather jade is its use in sacred religious ceremonies to communicate with the Divinity of heaven and earth and to gain enlightment from nature and the divine spirits... in simple terms, it¡¯s psychedelic.


    Chichika frowned slightly, looking at his stuttering escort. This was the symptom after using too much black feather jade. Chief Red Dog¡¯s face darkened as he admonished.


    "Uman, Holy Medicine is the medium for Priests to communicate with heaven and earth, and it erodes the souls of mortals. Even warriors can¡¯t avoid it! The Holy Medicine protected you and helped you escape from the inflammation tainted by the God of Death. Now that your wound has healed, from today onwards, you are forbidden to use Holy Medicine! As a warrior, you must endure pain on your own!"


    "Er... I will obey you, Chieftain!"


    Uman¡¯s eyes glazed over as he nodded vigorously.


    Chichika continued to stare at the Black Wolf banner, his expression as fierce as a wild beast. With over fifteen thousand warriors under his command and a formidable camp for support, he had enough confidence to hold off the Cactus Tribe!


    Across the distance of several hundred steps, in a corner of the camp clinging to the mountain side, a young girl named Alan, carrying the Hunting Bow, also looked toward the Black Wolf banner before her. She dyed her hair red and tied a tight band across her chest. This was her first time participating in a battle against the Mexica as a warrior.


    Upon seeing the Wolf Banner of the Black Wolf, Alan¡¯s heart pounded furiously and complex expressions flitted across her face. After a while, she bit her lip, gripped the bow and arrows in her hands, and turned to ask the spearmen warrior beside her.


    "Chipawa, is this the Mexica¡¯s legion?"


    "Yes. This is the Mexica¡¯s legion."


    Chipawa was just seventeen or eighteen years old, a thin boy. He held a long spear in his hands, his eyes red as he stared at the large army outside the camp. Three thousand Mexica warriors wearing White Gold Cloth Armor were arrayed under the Wolf Banner, their formation neat and orderly. Tens of thousands of Otomi Warriors surrounded the area, filling up the entire valley. Memories of past battles quickly flooded his mind once more, causing him to tremble with fear.


    "It was them who destroyed the Tarasco Kingdom and also killed my father!"


    Hearing this, Alan empathized deeply and her eyes reddened as well. She reached out forcefully, placing her hand on Chipawa¡¯s shoulder.


    "Chipawa, don¡¯t be afraid! The Mother of the Wilderness will guide you out of your past nightmares, to become a fearless warrior!... just like I have experienced."


    "Alan..."


    Chipawa looked gratefully at the young girl before him, his heart suddenly racing. After a while, he nodded vigorously.


    "I will be as brave as you!"


    "Yeah!"


    ``` S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The girl gazed at the pattern on the Wolf Banner, lost in thought for a moment, and then turned her head to ask.


    "Qipa, you come from the Divine Eagle Tribe in the south, and have a better understanding of the Cactus Tribe... What does this black wolf pattern represent? Is it common?"


    "Ah? The black wolf pattern? Hmm... I heard Captain Zucata say that the black wolf is the God of Death for the Mexica people. It¡¯s a very important deity, so it should be quite common in the Mexica Alliance!"


    Qipa racked his brains, trying hard to recall what the captain had said.


    "Among the legions, this flag represents the Mexica God of Death. During the Mexica invasion, he was the Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Route Army... I was in the Southern Army, so I never really encountered him..."


    "...Legend has it that he is the incarnation of the God of Death, possessing terrifying mana, able to transform into a running black wolf, unleashing lightning that explodes like a Thunderbolt. It was him, who destroyed the sturdy Rivermouth fortress, defeated the esteemed Divine Eagle King, and then conquered the magnificent Kingdom¡¯s Capital. It was also him who burned down the holy Three Gods Temple, destroying the villages of my homeland!..."


    "Ah? I see... so it¡¯s a rather common pattern..."


    Alana blinked, feeling somewhat disappointed. Then, she clenched the Hunting Bow in her hands and stared fiercely at the distant King under the Wolf Banner. The King wore a face-covering Copper Helmet and was dressed in gleaming Copper Armor, as majestic as a divinity.


    "Hmph! This is the evil leader of the Mexica? If he dares come near our camp, I¡¯ll shoot him dead with one arrow!"


    Alana held her head high, confidently tugging on the Hunting Bow. Then, after thinking for a moment, she added,


    "Right, my father said that to counter the thick skin of Mexica people, aim for the lower legs and neck!"


    "Alana, that¡¯s not thick skin, that¡¯s Bronze Armor."


    Qipa muttered quietly.


    "Bronze? What¡¯s that?"


    "Uh... Bronze is... hard, sharp gold."


    "Gold can be hard and sharp?"


    Alana was somewhat confused. Although the Northern Land was desolate, there were quite a few scattered open-pit gold and silver mines. All tribes in the Wilderness possessed small ornaments made of gold and silver.


    "Ah, this..."


    Qipa scratched his head. He was just an ordinary village Militia, and he didn¡¯t really understand these things either.


    "Alana, anyway, our tribes are all in the rear camp, living quite close. When night falls, I¡¯ll have Captain Zucata come and explain it to you! He is a seasoned Kingdom¡¯s Warrior, very formidable, and knows a lot."


    "Okay! My father is also very interested in the Southern Tribes..."


    Afterward, the two fell silent, just watching the opposing army with tension.


    The heavy sound of war drums grew more urgent. Two thousand Ottopan Warriors completed their formation and began to initiate their attack. Under the command of an Armored Warrior, they held up huge Wooden Shields, climbing along the mountain path, slowly advancing toward the lofty encampment.


    Thousands of Temple Crossbowmen, praising the name of the Chief Divine, followed closely behind the warriors. Clutching their prime crossbows, they appeared fervent. Soon, the Crossbowmen closed in within seventy steps, suddenly pulled the Hanging Knife, and with heads thrown back, they unleashed a rain of arrows!

 Chapter 646 - 336: Attack

    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!..."


    The fiercely shot crossbow bolts, like flying birds, suppressed the hunters on the stockade walls. Nearly ten Canine Warriors were struck by arrows, falling from the height with chilling screams. Then, the "bang bang" sounds from the rocks abruptly silenced the screams.


    "Ah, the Mexica¡¯s archery is so fierce even when shooting upwards!..."


    In tension, Alan crouched low, hiding in the corner between the mountain face and the stockade wall. Deadly crossbow bolts flew over her head and landed behind her in the camp, creating a "thud" as they buried into wood, while occasionally, the wails of the wounded could be heard. Clutching the Hunting Bow tightly, her mouth also dried up significantly. Although she had gotten used to small-scale fights, and had hunted down more than a dozen enemies, this was her first time participating in a battlefield with tens of thousands of people.


    "Alan, it¡¯s okay! This position is good, just stay hidden, and the Mexica¡¯s arrows won¡¯t reach us. Just wait until their warriors charge up, then the arrows will stop!"


    The young militia, Chipawa, whispered reassuringly. Alan turned her head and saw that Chipawa had already skillfully crawled behind the wall. He placed his Long Spears beside him and pushed a huge round rock, peering down through the gap between the wall and the rock. Then, he issued a tense, low shout.


    "They¡¯re coming up!"


    "Thud thud! Thud thud!"


    The spirited war drums rang loudly, inspiring the spirit of warriors, conveying the charge command! Two thousand Ottopan Warriors raised their Great Shields, formed into several front and rear squads, and charged towards the stockade walls in sequence. The hunters on the stockade also began to counterattack, as Bone Arrows fell like torrential rain, turning the shields into porcupines. Quickly, the first squad of five hundred warriors braved the rain of arrows and charged within thirty steps. The vanguards, screaming mightily, began to climb the final steep slope.


    "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"


    Thousands of red-haired hunters popped their heads out, continuing to shoot arrows viciously! At this distance, their shooting accuracy was terrifyingly high, each arrow targeting vital spots. The climbing warriors, unable to shield their bodies with their shields, were hit repeatedly in the head and face by arrows, screaming as they tumbled down the slope. After just two or three rounds of arrow showers, more than a hundred warriors had fallen! And when the vanguard warriors reached the steep slope, nearing the stockade, they were met with heavy rocks smashing down, crushing heads and splattering blood. The cruel uphill attack was brief, and the first squad of warriors began to falter. Some warriors even stopped on the steep slope, raising their Wooden Shields to defend on the spot.


    "Supervisory teams forward, retreaters die! Keep charging; sacrifice for the Chief Divine!"


    Jiowar, clad in Heavy Armor and wielding a War Club, stood at the steep slope under the camp. He roared loudly, leading the Longbow trusted aides personally in the supervision.


    "Kill the Canine Descendants, reclaim our land!" Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Kill the Canine Descendants! Reclaim the land!"


    The second squad of five hundred warriors echoed the chant and then carried out a desperate charge. Bone Arrows fell from the heights, becoming even more fierce. Many red-haired hunters, as if by unspoken agreement, aimed at the supervising Jiowar, quickly turning his Cloth Armor into a porcupine hide.


    "Advance twenty steps, and shoot from opposite the stockade!"


    Balda was ruthless. He held up his shield and personally led the Crossbowmen forward. As the Crossbowmen got closer and released a volley of arrows, a dozen red-haired hunters fell. The hunters furiously retaliated, shooting down several Crossbowmen. Subsequently, both sides¡¯ Archers and Crossbowmen began exchanging fire; the rain of arrows crisscrossed in the air. With the cover of the Crossbowmen, the second squad of warriors quickly approached the stockade, and the third squad also launched a charge.


    "Whoosh!"


    Alan peeked out, squinting her eyes and swiftly firing an arrow. An Ottopan Warrior, who was climbing up, clutched his face, tossing his head and rolling down the mountain. His dropped shield hit the warrior behind him, who paused stunned, then continued to climb with gritted teeth!


    "Their morale is high...ah!"


    Alan looked worriedly for a moment, then abruptly crouched behind the stockade wall.


    "Whoosh!"


    A fierce crossbow bolt grazed her red hair, striking the mountain wall with a forceful "bang". Only then did the bolt¡¯s momentum exhaust, bouncing into the camp behind.


    "Alan, are you alright?"


    Anxious shouts came from beside her. Alan turned her head to see that Chipawa hadn¡¯t moved, still pushing against that huge rock, with only a small half of his face visible.


    "Chipawa, what are you doing?"


    Alan blinked curiously.


    "I am... throwing rocks..."


    Chipawa hesitated before answering.


    "Good! The Otomi have climbed up! Archery is too dangerous, I¡¯ll come and throw stones with you!"


    Arin moved swiftly, scrambling to the boulders. She squinted towards the direction of the Otomi Warriors, then unhesitatingly pushed the huge rock down with force!


    "...Arin!"


    "Bang!!... Bang bang!"


    The dull thuds rose from beneath the fortification walls, accompanied by the muffled sounds of bones shattering. Then, the impact sounds continued unabated, along with the warriors¡¯ cries of alarm. The boulder rolled down the rugged steep slope, gathering speed and bringing an unstoppable force, charging straight towards the supervising Jiowar.


    "Damn it!"


    Jiowar, covered in arrows, stood defiantly. However, as the boulder approached, he could no longer hold himself together. The Coyote Prince roared and flung himself to the side.


    "Bang!!"


    The boulder struck down a Longbow trusted aide, emitting a grating crash, and finally smashed into the gentle mountain trail, burying deeply into the soil. The trusted aide spat blood from his mouth, his chest caved in, clearly beyond saving.


    Jiowar climbed up from the ground, fearfully. Then, in a fit of rage, he waved his War Club and pointed towards the fortification where the boulder had fallen.


    "Longbow trusted aides, fire at will! ..."


    "Ah, ah!"


    Rain of arrows crisscrossed, taking the lives of archers. Boulders rolled down, crushing the bodies of warriors. And the dying moans echoed continuously through the mountains, as the fighting grew ever more brutal.


    On the steep slopes, one or two li wide, the Ottopan Warriors paid a heavy price but finally made their way to the fortification walls. With bloodshot eyes, they swung their weapons and engaged in combat with the thousands of Canine Warriors defending!


    "Kill!"


    A few warriors climbed over the low wall near the mountainside, backs against each other, fighting fiercely with the defending tribe¡¯s warriors. Although it was a remote location, Prince Jiowar had specifically ordered an attack here; indeed, the defenders were not many.


    A fierce warrior swung his War Club, slashing down three Canine Descendants in succession. Then, a sneak-attack with a Stone Spear came from behind, blocked by the shield of a comrade. The fierce warrior slightly tilted his head, swept his War Club horizontally, and knocked down the attacking warrior.


    "Puchi!"


    The comrade behind stepped forward and thrust out a Copper Spear, stabbing into the downed enemy. As he pulled out the Copper Spear, a large gush of fresh blood splattered.


    Blood splattered on Chipawa¡¯s face, gripping his Long Spear, his whole body shook. He faltered in his steps, unconsciously retreating. This display of fear caught the eye of the warrior, triggering their utmost intent to kill. The fierce warrior sneered, then advanced in large strides with his War Club swinging.


    "Kill!"


    The ferocious War Club slashed through the air, bringing a sharp whoosh but missed. The fierce warrior raised his eyebrows as the young Canine Descendant stumbled, actually scared to the point of suddenly sitting on the ground, making him miss his strike. But it didn¡¯t matter anymore; the seated enemy simply closed his eyes, waiting for death.


    The warrior cruelly smirked and turned the direction of his War Club. He aimed at the enemy¡¯s neck, ready to strike down.


    "Whoosh!"


    A precisely aimed Feathered Arrow struck, deeply embedding into his neck. The fierce warrior gasped twice, then lost all strength, similarly collapsing to the ground. Chipawa faced the warrior, and then suddenly burst out screaming.


    "Ah! Ah!"


    The young Militia grabbed the Long Spear and desperately stabbed the dead warrior. The Canine Warriors behind him immediately backed him up, engaging with the remaining warriors. Arin watched Chipawa for a moment, shook her head, but said nothing. She once again lifted the Hunting Bow, aiming at the nearby enemy.

 Chapter 647 - 337: Hidden Killing Intent

    Emerald clouds drifted away in the sky, yellow leaves withered among the mountains. Autumn in the Northern Land was full of depth, with a great expanse of mountains stretching to the horizon. The brown ridges extended eastward and abruptly rose into steep slopes before bending towards the north.


    Xiulote stood atop a small hill, his eyes unwavering, intently focused on the battle before him.


    At this very moment, several thousand Canine Warriors were entrenched in the mountain top camp, defending with the advantage of the steep slopes that soared dozens of meters high. Two thousand Ottopan Warriors dressed in gray-blue War Clothes fiercely attacked up the steep incline, like surging waves!


    The Canine Warriors howled as they hurled stones, and red-haired Hunters fiercely shot arrows. Arrows and stones fell from above like raindrops, killing climbing Samurai and shooting down approaching Crossbowmen. The Crossbowmen, with frenzied expressions, stood behind on the lower part of the slope to return fire. The crossbow bolts whistled sharply, piercing the faces peering out from the palisade walls, ruthlessly transfixing the nearest enemies.


    The attacking war drums grew more rapid, the intense shouts of killing drowning out the whistle of arrows. From time to time, the elongated, piercing wails resonated between the mountains like a symphony of death!


    Under the banner of the Red Dog, the Canine Descendants held their ground, resisting with exceptional determination and strength. The Ottopan Warriors charged the camp three times, and three times they were repelled. Jiowar personally oversaw the battle from the front lines. Clenching his teeth fiercely, he raised his War Club in anger, ready to dispatch a fourth wave of warriors.


    From the hill, the blood dyed the brown stones red, and bodies tumbled down the slope, like falling maple leaves, reminiscent of a scroll offered to the gods.


    Xiulote lowered his eyes and shook his head.


    "Bertade, how many Ottopan Warriors have we lost?"


    The Head Warrior gazed quietly at the battlefield. With his extensive battle experience, he counted briefly and confidently replied.


    "Your Highness, at least five hundred."


    "And the Canine Descendants?"


    "At most... four hundred."


    "Raise the command flag, sound the conch, retreat."


    "As you command!"


    Bertade nodded. He picked up a huge conch shell and blew into it himself.


    "Toot!... Toot!..."


    The fourth wave of warriors was about to charge when the sudden sound of the retreat conch halted their decisive momentum. Jiowar, with eyes red, turned back and roared in anger.


    "Damn it! Who is blowing the horn recklessly? I¡¯ll have his..."


    The Coyote Prince suddenly stopped. Then, he was taken aback, lowered his head, and bellowed with reluctance.


    "Issue the order to the Nobility and Chieftains, retreat!"


    Quickly, the dark green Crossbowmen covered the retreat with their arrows, and the gray-blue figures receded from the steep slope like a tide. The Canine Descendants on the city walls roared with joy, letting out wolf-like howls.


    In the center of the Chieftains, the Great Chief Chichika raised his arms with force, baring his teeth in unrestrained laughter.


    In the Tribal Council, although he outwardly exuded confidence, repeatedly emphasizing the need to hold their ground, he was inwardly anxious and had even secretly arranged for an escape route. After all, they were facing the feared God of Death Great Chief! Only at this moment, seeing the enemy warriors struggle tremendously in their climb and incurring heavy casualties in their assault, did the Red Dog Chieftain feel truly reassured.


    "Chieftains, warriors!"


    Chichika shouted spiritedly.


    "The God of Death Chief is nothing! We can hold this mountain fortress until ten harvests pass, with our corn cribs filled to the brim!"


    "Awooo! Great Chief is mighty!"


    The Red Salamander Chieftain Axolotl joined in with a smile, and the other chieftains also nodded their heads and shouted in agreement. The heads of the Canine Descendants finally felt at ease and no longer secretly considered fleeing.


    In a corner of the camp, the young girl Alans breathed a sigh of relief. Having gone through the battle, she now truly became a red-haired huntress. She watched the enemy retreat like the tide, shook her short red hair, and excitedly waved her Hunting Bow. Then, her gaze followed the Otomi leader, down to the black Wolf Banner.


    "Your Highness!"


    Jiowar, his face flushed with shame, fell to his knees before the prince.


    "I have failed to live up to your great expectations, please punish me..."


    "No matter."


    Xiulote smiled gently. He gestured for the Coyote Prince to stand.


    "Prince Jiowar, the terrain here is too treacherous. The Ottopan Warriors have attacked thrice and have already done very well. The lives of warriors are our most precious wealth; there should not be such wasteful loss!"


    Jiowar stood up, grateful. He hesitated for a moment, clenched his fist, and through gritted teeth, requested an assignment.


    "Your Highness, please give me three hundred sets of sturdy armor! I shall personally lead the trusted aides and scale the ramparts for you!"


    "Oh?"


    Xiulote turned his gaze onto him. He observed Jiowar¡¯s expression for a moment and then burst into hearty laughter.


    "Excellent! Jiowar, my brave warrior, you are determined indeed!"


    Hearing the prince¡¯s affirmation, Jiowar inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Heart pounding, he awaited the prince¡¯s instructions.


    "The Canine Descendants are spirited and hold their ground in dangerous terrain. Under the onslaught of heavy rocks, even sturdy armor offers no defense. A forceful attack would cost too many lives!"


    Xiulote pondered for a moment and then spoke slowly.


    "Jiowar, I have been observing for a while. I now have a rough plan for how to conquer this mountain fortress."


    "Ah, divine wisdom has inspired Your Highness! The Ottopan Warriors are willing to die in your service!"


    Jiowar immediately bowed deeply, his face showing generous resolve.


    "Good. Jiowar, I entrust you with a new task!"


    Xiulote suddenly smiled.


    "Take a thousand bronze axes, and with the Mexica legion, clear all the sparse trees around."


    "Ah, clearing trees?... I shall follow Your Highness¡¯s command!"


    Jiowar was stunned for a moment, then nodded blankly.


    The Mexica and Otomi Allied Forces immediately made an encampment in front of the fortress. The mountain terrain was narrow, and the Guamare legion, Pamus legion, and Longbow Militia were all sent to station ten miles behind. Thousands of Ottopan Warriors then cleared all the trees around. Under the direction of the craftsmen accompanying the army, they busied themselves and quickly constructed more than a dozen catapults.


    The Canine Warriors on the mountain fortress came out to raid several times but were repelled each time by the vigilantly guarded Imperial Guard Warriors. The allied forces¡¯ catapults were taking shape rapidly.


    Chichika looked on with a grave expression, deeply concerned about the developments below. He began by inquiring with Amoxtli from the Red Fox Valley.


    "What are these wooden beasts?"


    Amoxtli shook his head, not knowing, but he recommended someone, Zucata from the Red Monkey Tribe. In these past days, he had been with the other in the rear encampment, making many contacts, and they got along quite well. He knew that this was a "red-haired warrior" from the Great Tribe in the south, who had seen much and was knowledgeable about the Mexica people.


    The Great Chief immediately summoned Zucata. Although Ozoma was reluctant, he had to let him go.


    "Warrior from the Divine Eagle Tribe!"


    Chichika laughed heartily and opened his arms to welcome him.


    However, Zucata bowed his head and clenched his fist at his chest, performing a ritual of the Tarasco Kingdom.


    "Great Chief, my greetings to you!"


    The Red Dog Chieftain nodded his head, scrutinizing the newcomer. The man was tall and wore the garments of a Canine Warrior, only that he wore a bifurcated feathered helmet that covered his hair. The sacred red hair was always a symbol of the Canine Warriors. Unless necessary, the red-haired of the tribe did not like to wear helmets.


    Following that, Chichika stood on high ground, pointed towards the giant wooden beasts below the mountain, and asked seriously.


    "Zucata, tell me, what is the Cactus Tribe doing?"


    Zucata observed for a moment, and after listening to the detailed report of the Scout, he gave a definitive answer.


    "These are catapults of the Mexica people!"


    "Catapults?"


    "Great Chief, I have fought the Mexica people in the Southern Army of the Kingdom for nearly a year. They have many new kinds of weapons that can manipulate stones, thunderbolts, and flames. The catapult is a weapon for hurling stones, able to throw boulders weighing dozens of pounds over two hundred paces!"


    "What? Two hundred paces away?"


    Chichika¡¯s face showed shock.


    "Are you saying this wooden beast below the mountain? It can hurl stones weighing dozens of pounds up to here?!"


    "Uh, this height..."


    Zucata looked at the catapults below and then at the encampment¡¯s height, shaking his head.


    "The encampment is situated high and is difficult to climb from below. The Mexica people¡¯s catapults cannot be transported up the steep slope, nor can they throw large stones up here, at most, they can toss a few pounds of small stones up. Moreover, hurling from below upwards, the force is easily exhausted, and the feeble stones cause little harm."


    "Indeed. Hurling can only be done from high to low, the other way around is much more difficult."


    Chichika nodded his head, yet his expression did not relax one bit. He looked intently at Zucata.


    "Zucata, if it cannot cause much harm, why would the Mexica go to such lengths to bring this here?"


    "Hmm... This weapon can also be used to throw burning, smoking fireballs."


    Zucata pondered for a long time before cautiously replying.


    "Burning, smoking fireballs? What kind of spell is this?"


    Chichika tensed up again.


    "I encountered it at the mountain fortresses of Xitaqualo. The fireballs would come burning and emitting thick smoke, sticking to the walls and burning. This kind of fire is hard to extinguish; even water is ineffective¡ªit must be put out with sand and dirt. But it seems that the fireballs are quite precious and not numerous. And when the fireballs burn, the Mexica cannot attack." S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Paper Fireballs... forest fires..."


    Chichika pondered for a while, pacing back and forth. The shadow of the recent forest fire still lingered in his mind, refusing to leave. After a moment, the Red Dog Chieftain gave an order to Uman beside him.


    "Uman, command all warriors to be cautious. Have more sand and soil dug from behind the encampment and hoarded inside the camp! Ah, right, we should have people cut down the sparse woods around as well and pile them further away!"


    "Uh... as you say, Chieftain!"


    Uman nodded vigorously and immediately went to execute the command with his trusted aides. Although not articulate, his ability to act was exceptionally strong. In just two days, the camp was stocked with mud, and the shallow trees on both sides of the mountains were cleared away.


    Several days later, the Mexica legion launched another assault. The crossbowmen donned the trusted aide¡¯s copper armor and moved in close to shoot. The fierce crossbow bolts shot up covering the sky, suppressing the hunters on the wall.


    The newly constructed dozen or so catapults creaked and groaned as they hurled stones weighing several pounds. The stones whistled through the air and, exhausted of their force mid-flight, "gently" landed in the encampment. The barrage knocked the Canine Descendants to the ground, holding their heads, but did not cause any casualties or have the power to damage the sturdy fortress walls. Soon, the Otapan Warriors raised their Great Shields and tested charging forward a couple of times. They shouted loudly, but hurriedly retreated without even touching the fortress wall.


    "Ha ha, there¡¯s nothing to be afraid of with those wooden beasts! The Cactus Tribe worries we lack defensive stones and has specially brought them from the mountain for us! When the enemy comes to attack, we¡¯ll ferociously toss them down, returning them to their warriors!"


    Chichika looked around. Many tribe warriors saw the massive catapults for the first time and their faces showed fear. The Great Chief then laughed heartily, lifting the spirits of the warriors.


    "Warriors, I have good news for you! All the tribes have finished harvesting maize and it¡¯s being continuously brought in! The fields in the valley are extraordinarily fertile; this year is a bumper crop!"


    A bumper crop meant that everyone could eat their fill. Next year they wouldn¡¯t have to fight the other tribes to the death for food or hunt their weak and elderly.


    "Howl! The maize is a bountiful harvest; the Great Chief is the son of the earth!"


    The Red Salamander Chieftain shouted timely, and instantly the camp resounded with cheers. The Great Chief¡¯s prestige was reinforced once again, slowly merging with divinity. If not for outside interference, a new powerful leader would emerge and fully integrate the Guajili tribes within a few years.


    Several hundred steps away, Xiulote stood without raising the Royal Banner, just watching from a small hill. Listening to the boiling cheers of the Canine Descendants, a smile appeared on his face.


    "Well done, Jiowar."


    The Coyote trusted aide bowed respectfully, even though he harbored doubts.


    "Let the Canine Descendants celebrate for a day, relaxing their guard. With the catapults complete, the moment for a full assault is upon us!"


    Xiulote pondered for a while before decisively giving an order.


    "Bertade!"


    "Here, Your Highness."


    "Take out the fire arrows and give them to the skilled Archery trusted aides! Redistribute the gunpowder to create burning paper fireballs! Also, have the Artillery Camp ready; all Eight-Gate Wooden Cannons to be moved into the camp!"


    "By your command! Your Highness, I¡¯ll see to it personally!"


    Bertade responded calmly, with a touch of excitement in his voice.


    "Good! Send out some trusted aides and summon Red Frog Chieftain Keka and trusted aide Miwa as well!"


    Xiulote¡¯s face showed a smile, confident and composed.


    "Tell them, the time has come to serve the Alliance!"


    His words dispersed into the wind, drifting over the brown hills and stirring the withered leaves. Amidst the boiling cheers of the Canine Descendants, a heavy aura of killing intent lay hidden, silently flowing.

 Chapter 648 - 338: Peril and Glory

    The night fell low from the sky, and the campfires sparkled in the camp. The harsh cold wave had passed, but the autumn nights of the wilderness were still warm. Thousands of Samurai slept in open grass nests, conserving their energy for the fight. The patrolling squad was on high alert, roaming back and forth on the edge of the camp. Further away, scouts on night watch vigilantly guarded within the mountains, always ready to combat the red-haired Canine Descendants.


    In the vast grass nests, the generals¡¯ tents were strikingly conspicuous. And at the center, surrounded by dozens of tents, was the commander-in-chief¡¯s grand tent. A Royal Banner of Black Wolf was planted in front of it. Hundreds of trusted aides, clad in Armor and armed with bows, guarded around the Royal Banner and the grand tent. Their expressions were devout and vigilant, as if guarding a divinity.


    "Great Chief, your loyal general, Keka, salutes you!" sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Inside the grand tent, Chieftain Keka of the Red Frog Tribe kneeled on the ground, respectfully saluting Xiulote. Your journey continues at NovelFire.C?m


    Keka had been confined by Xiulote¡¯s side for almost a month, almost isolated from his tribe. His daily tasks were to eat and drink, and to receive preachings from the priests at regular intervals. His round face had grown plumper. Now, he had donned the attire of a Mexica Samurai, wore a silver Chief God¡¯s Amulet, and had learned the etiquette of the Alliance. At first glance, he seemed like a minor noble of the Alliance. Only his hair remained red, as adored by the people of the wilderness.


    "Great Chief, Miwa salutes you!"


    Behind Keka, the red-haired trusted aide Miwa, wearing a Canine Descendants¡¯ Leather Robe, also followed suit and kneeled to salute.


    After the chieftain was taken away, he had been the acting head of the Red Frog Tribe, managing the daily needs of three thousand warriors. After surrendering, the tribe¡¯s food supply depended on the Alliance. The Cactus Tribe¡¯s War Priests came daily, distributing ample food while spreading their faith within the tribe. Hundreds of seasoned Samurai were also stationed around the tribe, often exchanging archery skills with the red-haired people, competing in Martial Arts, and promoting honors bestowed for military achievements and land grants. After just a month, some among the tribe were swayed.


    Miwa watched as the tribal warriors began to praise the Chief Divine, drawing ever closer to the Alliance. He often felt uneasy, yet did not know what to do. At this moment, a rare look of anxiety appeared on the face of this red-haired warrior.


    "Rise!"


    Xiulote smiled, patting Keka¡¯s shoulder. Then, he looked at Miwa and said generously,


    "Miwa, the Red Frog Tribe has now joined the Alliance as an independent force. You are the Deputy Legion Commander of the Red Frog Legion! How can this simple Leather Robe reflect the dignity of a Deputy Head? It¡¯s not durable enough even for combat."


    "Someone! Reward Deputy Commander Miwa with a fine set of Leather Armor and a noble¡¯s robe!"


    Xiulote ordered loudly. Instantly, trusted aides came forward with the prepared Leather Armor and robe, dressing Miwa. Miwa looked helpless, seeking guidance from Chieftain Keka. Seeing that Keka remained unmoved, making a slight gesture with his hand, Miwa obediently donned the Mexica noble¡¯s robe.


    The King raised an eyebrow and stared at the dazed Miwa for a while, then unclasped the Sun Amulet from his neck and personally placed it around his neck.


    "Miwa, the Chief Divine will protect you! He promises you hope and victory, to turn peril into safety! Praise the Chief Divine!"


    "Ah, I... Praise the Chief Divine!"


    Miwa muttered, lowering his head, praying to the Chief Divine for the first time. Then, the instincts honed from years of wilderness fighting suddenly surged, filling him with doubt.


    "Did the Great Chief just mention... peril?"


    Xiulote glanced at the two men, smiled, and then returned to his seat. His expression turned serious as he earnestly asked,


    "Miwa, how are the Red Frog warriors doing?"


    "Great Chief, the warriors¡¯ morale is high, ready to fight for you at any time!"


    "Good."


    Xiulote nodded, asking again.


    "The Alliance is at war with the Red Dog Alliance. Do the Red Frog warriors have any reservations?"


    "Great Chief, the tribes of the wilderness often fight each other. Unless it¡¯s the rare bountiful year, tribes hunt each other¡¯s weak. Besides, our three tribes to the west have never gotten along with the five tribes of the East. Fighting the Red Dog Alliance, the warriors¡¯ morale remains high!"


    This time, Keka answered first.


    "Oh? In that case, are the soldiers familiar with the Red Frog Tribe from the Red Dog Alliance?"


    "Uh? We don¡¯t have much contact with the Red Dog Alliance, and there is rarely any interaction between us, mostly unfamiliar to each other."


    The Red Frog Chieftain speculated the Great Chief¡¯s intentions, cautiously answering.


    Xiulote mused silently. After a moment, he looked expressionless at the wide-eyed Keka.


    "Keka, have you had any contact with the opposing Red Dog Alliance?"


    "Ah! Great Chief, I am utterly loyal to you, with no divided loyalties!"


    Keka¡¯s back chilled, and he prostrated on the ground with a thump. He indeed wished to contact the other side, but being in the main camp of the Cactus Tribe, his own life was hardly secure, let alone finding an opportunity.


    "Keka, the Guajili people stem from the same stock, so it¡¯s alright if there is contact. You could persuade them to serve the Alliance together!"


    Xiulote smiled lightly, his gaze fixed intently on Keka¡¯s expression.


    Keka shuddered, like a frog stared down by a snake. His expression turned fearful as he raised his right hand to swear.


    "By the ancestors! Great Chief, since joining the Alliance, I have not had any contact with the Red Dog factions!"


    "Oh?"


    Xiulote watched for a while, smiling. He then turned to Miwa.


    "By the ancestors! Great Chief, neither has Miwa!"


    Miwa paused, imitating Keka¡¯s gestures, and swore,


    "If I betray this oath, may my soul never return to the embrace of the Earth Mother!"

 Chapter 649 - 338: Peril and Glory_2

    Xiulote raised an eyebrow. He looked at the Chief God¡¯s Amulet that he would personally place on the other party, and after a while, he nodded in approval.


    "Good!"


    The King smiled with satisfaction.


    "Since this is the case, I have a mission to entrust to a loyal Red Frog warrior!"


    Keka and Miwa exchanged glances, both sensing an ominous premonition.


    "The Canine Descendants¡¯ camp stretches for miles, and the flags of various tribes are quite mixed. The Red Frog warriors share the same origin, dress, language, and customs with those tribes, making them unrecognizable at night and easiest to infiltrate the camp."


    As the King spoke, he organized his thoughts. Then, after a slight pause, he issued an undeniable command.


    "Miwa, you have one day to select five hundred elite warriors loyal to the tribe! Tomorrow night, you will skirt around the mountainsides and infiltrate the Red Dog camp. Before dawn, when the Allied Forces launch their attack, you will create havoc in the camp at the same time!"


    "Ah, a night raid?!"


    Keka and Miwa exclaimed in unison. Keka lowered his head, his eyes flickering rapidly.


    A night raid was extremely challenging, requiring not only elite forces but also those loyal to the tribe. Moreover, the risk of a night raid was staggeringly high. Even if they were successful, the losses would be severe. And when the Mexica Allied Forces took advantage of the chaos to attack, how could they distinguish the Red Frog warriors from other tribes? They would likely be annihilated together. How could the Red Frog Tribe commit to such a deed that would sacrifice the tribe for the sake of enlightening the Alliance?


    After a moment, Keka¡¯s eyes grew cold, and he silently clenched his fists. The immediate plan was to first escape from the predicament of the cage. With this thought, he knelt down sincerely and petitioned the Great Chief.


    "Great Chief! The Red Frog Tribe is willing to die for you! I am willing to personally lead the warriors and infiltrate the enemy camp!"


    "Oh?"


    Xiulote¡¯s smile was indecipherable as he observed Keka¡¯s expression, unable to discern its authenticity. He had long had his strategy; now, he merely shook his head.


    "No! Keka, you are the Clan Leader of the Red Frog Tribe, many people in the Red Dog camp would certainly recognize you. You were the first Tribal Chief to surrender to my Great Tribe, and I need to use you importantly; I cannot allow you to enter into danger."


    Subsequently, the King¡¯s expression became stern, his gaze sharp. He looked at the trusted aide.


    "Miwa, you will replace Keka and personally lead the warriors! The Chief Divine will protect you!"


    Miwa looked at the King and then at Keka, who was willing to die. Years of the chief¡¯s generosity surged in his heart, and he clenched his teeth fiercely.


    "Fine, I will replace the chieftain and raid the camp! Respected Great Chief, if I do not return, please allow the chieftain to return to the tribe!"


    "Miwa!"


    At this, Keka¡¯s expression grew agitated, his eyes widening as he gazed at Miwa. His fingers twisted rapidly like a water serpent. In this season, water serpents on the wilderness were no longer lively, never exerting full effort to hunt. They preferred to be lazy, sometimes "touching fish."


    "Chieftain, I will surely lead the warriors and cause chaos in the Red Dog camp! Even if I return to the embrace of the Earth Mother Goddess, I shall spare no effort!"


    Miwa¡¯s expression was resolute. He raised his hand and swore, never noticing Keka¡¯s fingers. Xiulote¡¯s gaze swept past, but he did not understand.


    "Ah! Miwa!"


    "Chieftain!"


    Keka¡¯s expression grew even more agitated. Seeing the agitated chieftain, the trusted aide Miwa also grew excited. Xiulote laughed with satisfaction. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Very good! Keka, you may leave now. I still have specific plans to discuss with Miwa."


    "But, Chieftain..."


    "Leave! Tomorrow¡¯s night raid involves the power of divinity and must not be known by too many!"


    "...Yes, Chieftain!"


    Keka¡¯s eyes widened in helplessness as he left the tent. Before leaving, he gave Miwa a deep look, cursing in his heart.


    "You fool of the wilderness! If you end up destroying all my elites tomorrow, even if you miraculously survive, I will strangle you alive!..." Read exclusive chapters at NovelFire.C?m


    Seeing the chieftain¡¯s reluctant gaze, Miwa felt moved. He once again firmly promised.


    "Chieftain, rest assured! I will surely lead the elites and overturn the camp across!"


    "I..."


    The tent curtain then closed. Bertade stood before the curtain, smiling. Xiulote¡¯s expression remained unchanged, still contemplating the battles of tomorrow. To break through the mountain camp and defeat the main forces of the Canine Descendants, all in one go!


    A moment later, the King instructed in detail,


    "Miwa, select five hundred men, making sure loyalty is paramount. Let the teams disperse and infiltrate the mountain camps in batches from the fluctuating mountains on both sides."


    "The scouts have already made it clear. The large tribe in the front camp is on high alert, with elite red-haired guarding day and night. You are few in number; do not attack the front camp but try to infiltrate the rear camp! The ordinary tribes in the rear camp are numerous and in disarray. Should you encounter patrolling scouts, you may impersonate various small tribes..."


    "Great Chief, please rest assured! The warriors are veterans of the wilderness, familiar with the tribal rules, there will be no issues infiltrating the rear camp!"


    Miwa puffed out his chest, assuring him.


    "Good! After infiltrating the camp, patiently wait."


    The King slightly nodded his head. Then, his expression became solemn, as if imbued with divinity.


    "Tomorrow, the priests will pray throughout the night, seeking the descent of the Chief Divine! The Chief Divine is also the War God, controlling thunder and flames. Before dawn, there will be thunder exploding in the mountains and flames falling from the sky! When the overpowering Divine Power descends into the valley, that is your time to act!"


    "Ah, Great Chief?"


    Miwa was somewhat surprised. He did not dare to question the majesty of the Mexica Chief Divine but asked again in confusion.


    "Thunder and flames? Falling from the sky?"


    "Yes! First, there will be thunder roaring like a bellow; then, flames will descend from the sky, unquenchable by water."


    Xiulote uplifted with a fighting spirit, commanded loudly.


    "At that moment, exert all your effort to create noise in the rear camp, shouting that the divine spirits are descending, and the heavenly fire is burning the mountain! Your primary task is to create as much chaos as possible, noise, setting fires, killing¡ªanything goes. Once the camp descends into chaos, do not linger; try to move as many people as possible, and escape northward. Escape as far as you can. As for killing many enemies, that comes secondary."


    "The Alliance only needs the enemy to fall into disarray! Each tribe has its plans, and once the fleeing momentum starts, their resolve to fight will crumble. By daybreak, a large army will march in to subdue any resistance!"


    "Miwa, do you remember?"


    "...God of Death, Great Chief, I remember."


    Miwa swallowed hard, knelt on both knees, and made a bowing salute.


    "Good, go prepare! If this battle is won, you shall have the greatest merit!"


    Miwa nodded and backed out of the camp. He saw the mysterious Great Chief continue discussing with the Head Warrior, speaking words difficult to understand, instilling awe in his heart.


    "Bertade, gather the War Priests, and hold a ceremony in the camp tomorrow. Send out envoys to soothe the three Otomi divisions. Tell them that the Mexica Alliance is about to hold a divinity-descending ceremony, praying for the blessing of Divine Power! The War God controls thunder and flames and will grant the same powers. Let them not be frightened."


    "As you command, Your Highness!"


    "Have the shooting platforms on both sides of the mountains been cleared?"


    "Your Highness, taking the opportunity of logging, the samurai have already cleared the highlands on the mountains and set up planks, preparing small platforms for shooting at the mountain fort."


    "Good! With Black Wolf absent, select five hundred Longbow trusted aides, five hundred Temple Crossbowmen, and give them to Toltec¡¯s adjutant, Tupa! Have the crossbowmen in position early, and after the bombardment by wooden cannon tomorrow night, launch fire arrows into the camp!"


    "As you command, Your Highness!"


    "Eight-Gate Wooden Cannons and about a dozen catapults, all hand them over to Balda, and give him a thousand samurai! Prepare in advance. At the deepest part of tomorrow night, aim at the mountain fort with empty wooden cannons, and launch burning fireballs!"


    "As you command, Your Highness!"


    "Head Warrior, as for you..."


    Xiulote paused slightly, his expression serious.


    "I give you five hundred Heavy Armor Jaguars, a thousand Medium Armor Longbow trusted aides, and an additional thousand Vanguard barbarians!"


    "Your Highness!"


    Bertade¡¯s expression shook; this was almost the core force of the Imperial Guard Legion.


    "Bertade, rest with vigor. When the day after tomorrow dawns, break the enemy camp for me!"


    "To serve you to the death!"


    The Head Warrior reverently bowed down. The calm on his face vanished, replaced with a profound intent to kill, reflected by the firelight inside the tent.


    "My supreme sun, after this battle, you shall illuminate the Northern Land!"

 Chapter 650 - 339: Thunderbolt and Fire

    Daylight hurriedly passed by, and suddenly it was deep night again. Campfires were lit along the extending mountain ridge, stretching for miles. More than a dozen tribes, thousands of Canine Descendants, camped openly in the mix of darkness and firelight, sleeping just like the mixed and entangled various campgrounds.


    The cool moss was cold, and the evening wind was silent. In the quiet of the night, Aztec suddenly woke. Like an alert mountain cat, she abruptly sat up, looking around vigilantly, a sharp Obsidian Dagger now in her hand.


    "Huh?..."


    There was nothing around, only the tribes¡¯ red-haired kin sleeping in the grass nests. During the day, the Mexica camp down the hill had conducted a grand ceremony to worship the gods, with mysterious prayers echoing all day. The tribal warriors had been vigilant all day and now were sleeping somewhat deeply. Further away, at the edge of the camp, a few vigilant scouts were scattered about, though it was unclear to which tribe they belonged.


    Aztec was somewhat puzzled. She touched her forehead and did not feel sick. The young hunter girl looked around the campground again and paused her gaze.


    In the dim night, a man was leaning against a short tree about a dozen steps away, almost merging with the tree. Aztec squinted her eyes and silently reached for the Hunting Bow.


    "Aztec, it¡¯s me."


    A familiar voice came, and the man lifted his head, revealing a damaged left ear.


    "Dad?"


    Aztec was relieved. She slung the bow over her back and stood up to approach.


    "Dad, what are you doing?"


    "I felt uneasy and woke up early."


    Amoxtli furrowed his brow but kept his eyes on the surrounding mountains, as if trying to peer through the deep darkness. The instinct of a seasoned scout alerted him to the scent of danger, yet he could not pinpoint its source.


    "I feel something is not right."


    "Oh? Dad, I couldn¡¯t sleep either."


    Aztec wrinkled her little nose and sniffed carefully, the wind still carrying the familiar scent of Canine Descendants.


    "What¡¯s not right?"


    "...I don¡¯t know."


    "Is it the spells the Mexica spoke during the day, trying some magic on us?"


    "...It doesn¡¯t seem like it. The others are sleeping deeply."


    Amoxtli shook his head. Aztec was an outstanding hunter he had personally trained, with an animal-like intuition as well. Both of them sensing something off confirmed it was not mere illusion. The Red Crow Chieftain, somewhat agitated, paced a few steps. Over a hundred tribal red-haired were here, mixed with other ordinary tribes without any organization, unfamiliar with each other. The defensive wall at the back of the camp was only partially built...


    Amoxtli glanced again at the flickering campfires at the back of the camp and finally made up his mind.


    "Aztec, wake the warriors. I¡¯ll take a few seasoned red-haired scouts and circle outside!"


    "Okay, Dad, go and be safe!"


    Aztec nodded firmly and immediately got busy.


    Amoxtli did not hesitate and, taking six thousand elite red-haired, headed toward the forest at the edge of the mountains. As they passed the campfires, they greeted the dozen or so alert warriors.


    "Hard work."


    "Ah, where are you going this late?"


    "Ate too much raw corn and insects, got a stomach ache. Going out to the woods to relieve it."


    "...That many people?"


    "Hmm. All feeling uncomfortable."


    Amoxtli casually exchanged a few words. The firelight was dim, shadows flickering, the dozen warriors gathered in a group. The Red Crow Chieftain calmly looked over the nighttime warriors and asked,


    "Which tribe are you from?"


    "Red Rabbit. Our camp is just to the south."


    The leader of the red-haired team replied crisply without any hesitation. He looked at Amoxtli and also asked,


    "And you?"


    "Red Crow."


    "Red Crow?"


    The firelight flickered, shadows looming. The captain¡¯s gaze flashed and showed some agitation.


    Upon hearing the question, Amoxtli explained again,


    "We are a tribe that fled from the western valley, just arrived in the east not long ago."


    "Oh."


    The two conversed no more. As they left, Amoxtli glanced back, vaguely feeling that the captain looked familiar but couldn¡¯t see clearly.


    "Quack quack!"


    Under a star-sparse moon, short-beaked crows called in the sparse woods, carrying a somewhat ominous tone. Amoxtli had not gone too far. He lay on the ground, observed the traces on the grass for a while, listened to the distant bird calls, and his heart settled slightly. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No trace of a large group of enemies lurking... did I really fall for a Mexica spell?"


    Amoxtli shook his head, reached out to grasp a handful of leaves, and smiled at his elite followers.


    "Since everyone is out, let¡¯s resolve this here... and then get a good sleep when we return."


    The group, all seasoned, relaxed momentarily before briskly walking back. Soon, the nocturnal squad reappeared before them. Amoxtli habitually looked at them for a moment and then suddenly froze.


    "How many were on the night watch just now?"


    Amoxtli turned to look at his trusted aide beside him.


    "Three palms?"


    The trusted aide was unsure.


    "Now there are at least five palms!"


    Amoxtli narrowed his eyes, somewhat serious. The night had deepened, the darkness before dawn. How could there be so many joining the night shift when the warriors slept so soundly?


    "Uh... maybe it¡¯s their rotation time."


    The trusted aide scratched his head, feeling the chieftain was being overly suspicious.


    "Everyone, draw your weapons."


    Amoxtli waved his hand, took down the stone spear from his back, and concealed it behind him with one hand. The group paused momentarily to take out their weapons and then continued towards the night watch squad.


    The Canine Warriors on watch seemed to have been watching them the whole time. Now, led by their chief, they too stood up, left the edge of the camp, and walked towards Amoxtli. In the dim moonlight, both parties walked closer to each other, noticing the weapons in each other¡¯s hands and the hostility in their eyes.


    "The new Red Crow Chieftain, Amoxtli?"


    Seeing the stone spear in the other¡¯s hands, Miwa grinned, showing his sharp teeth. He was holding a Hunting Bow and wore loose cloth armor with a leather armor underneath. Behind him, nearly thirty elite warriors were closing in from three sides.


    "You are indeed vigilant. No wonder you could abandon us with Red Fox and escape first from the valley!"


    Hostility laced Miwa¡¯s words.


    "You are..." Experience new stories on NovelFire.C?m


    Amoxtli warily stopped walking. He looked at his few followers behind him, then at the dim camp not far off, caught in a dilemma. He struggled to recognize the face before him, then suddenly, it clicked. Their last encounter was also just before dawn, jointly ambushing intruding Pamus Samurai.


    "You are... Red Frog¡¯s trusted aide, Miwa!"


    Amoxtli grasped his stone spear and stepped back, shocked.


    "What are you doing here?! Isn¡¯t the Red Frog Tribe already..."


    Speaking this, a chill ran down Amoxtli¡¯s spine, his expression growing extremely grave.


    "You dare to raid the camp risking your lives for the Cactus Tribe!..."


    "Exactly. I love killing smart people."


    Teeth gritted, murder glinted across Miwa¡¯s face. He raised his Hunting Bow, ready to act at any moment.


    Amoxtli¡¯s mind raced, forcing a smile. He didn¡¯t shout loudly to alert the camp, which might provoke the other side to act, but instead lowered his voice.


    "Brother Miwa, we are both tribes of the wilderness, and we¡¯ve both fought in the valley! On the day the Red Frog Tribe was in peril, it was I and Ivican who sacrificed our lives to save the Red Frog camp. We are old acquaintances, bound by some friendship... The Red Crow Tribe was abandoned by Red Fox as well, even losing the old chieftain. We¡¯ve all struggled to this day, just to survive, to continue our tribes... why would you sell your life for the cruel Aztecs?"


    Miwa¡¯s expression shifted slightly, softening a bit. Amoxtli continued to persuade.


    "Brother Miwa, you are a true warrior! Among the three tribes of the valley, the Red Frog Tribe is the most warlike, even having defeated the Cactus Tribe¡¯s Great General! The Great Chief of Chichika loves warriors; I can also speak some words for you in his presence, to introduce you... if only you would come over to the Great Chief..."


    "Damn! Amoxtli, I will never betray the chieftain, nor will I harm him!"


    Miwa suddenly erupted in anger, cutting off Amoxtli. Amoxtli felt a chill run down his spine as he heard Miwa shout.


    "The God of Death Great Chief has already prayed to the mighty Chief Divine! Divine Power controls the irresistible Thunderbolt and Fire, about to descend from the heavens! The entire Red Dog Alliance will be destroyed by the Chief Divine tonight..."


    "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"


    Accompanying Miwa¡¯s shout, four terrifying booms suddenly exploded in the valley, like the thunderbolt of doomsday!


    "Ah!"


    After the God of Thunder, there was a moment of silence between heaven and earth. Then, a sudden scream of terror rose within the camp for miles.


    "The deity of the Cactus Tribe has descended!"


    "Heavenly fire burns the mountains, the deity annihilates the world!..."


    Accompanied by the sudden boiling shouts, a dozen huge fireballs rose from the Mexica camp, rolling toward the frontline camps as if invoked by a deity¡¯s spell! Next, hundreds of Fire Arrows came, like a meteor shower tearing through the night sky. Fire Arrows fell from the sky, carelessly shooting into the vast camp, igniting countless dwellings!


    "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"


    Another four terrifying booms, and the entire Canine Descendants camp plunged into hysterical chaos. Countless warriors scrambled frantically, setting off a camp-wide panic that could no longer be stopped!

 Chapter 651 - 340: Camp Howl and Chaotic Battle

    A massive fireball streaked across the night sky, trailing a meteor-like trail before crashing into the Canine Descendants¡¯ encampment, releasing billowing thick smoke. Countless Fire Arrows attacked from the mountains like sudden torrents of rain, igniting the dry grass nests and converging into a sea of flames in the camp. The tranquil night erupted with thunderous roars like the divine wrath of gods, bringing an unstoppable disaster.


    "Ah! The Divine Powers¡¯ Spell!"


    Amoxtli, shocked, lifted his head to see the sky full of fire, and the terrifying thunder filled his ears. He smelled the burning char and quickly diffusing scent of blood. Thousands of Canine Warriors in the camp were shouting and colliding, desperately fighting in a chaotic madness!


    "Flames and thunder, blood and death... It¡¯s the Great Chief¡¯s divine magic!"


    Miwa, full of awe, looked toward the origin of the fireball. He stretched out his hand and clasped the Sun Amulet hidden within his clothes.


    "Praise the Chief Divine! Pray for your forgiveness..."


    After a brief pause, Miwa looked back at Amoxtli. This time, his eyes were filled with murderous intent, no hesitations remaining.


    "Amoxtli!"


    "Aran, my daughter!"


    As divine fire descended, Amoxtli suppressed the trembling in his heart. He took a deep look at the completely chaotic camp, then suddenly let out a low roar and hurled the Stone Spear in his hand at Miwa. Then, the Red Crow Chieftain swiftly turned and, without looking back, fled into the forest behind him.


    "Let¡¯s go!"


    A few Red Crow elite also followed their chieftain, escaping like foxes.


    Miwa leaped to avoid the incoming javelin. Then, he lifted his Hunting Bow and aimed at Amoxtli¡¯s retreating figure, releasing a sharp arrow!


    "Whoosh!"


    In the deep night, shadowy and indistinct. Amoxtli, like a turkey, crouched low and ran in a zigzag pattern, dodging the incoming Bone Arrows.


    "Whoosh, whoosh!"


    Miwa shot twice more, both missing their mark. Watching Amoxtli flee swiftly, he roared unwillingly and angrily.


    "Amoxtli, you sly Red Crow!"


    "Boss, should we chase into the forest?"


    The nearby Red Salamander warrior gathered around, waiting for their leader¡¯s command. Miwa, with a fierce look, watched the several figures about to disappear into the forest and finally clenched his teeth and shook his head decisively.


    "No! We attack the Great Tribe¡¯s camp, spreading the chaos further... for Chieftain Keka!"


    The Red Salamander warriors looked at each other, then all wore a determined expression. Dozens of them silently charged forward, heading toward the nearest Red Monkey camp.


    The chaos in the rear camp continued and grew even more brutal. Living people ran through the mayhem, while corpses burned in the flames. The cruel camp outcry was but a moment, yet the entire campsite had already gone completely out of control. Different tribes collided with each other, mixing into a tumult, killing into a turmoil, and dying in heaps!


    At this moment, all other tribes were enemies! More than a dozen howling tribal militia, waving their weapons, charged crazily.


    Aran, with no hesitation, lifted her Hunting Bow and rapidly shot three arrows, felling the nearest three warriors. Other Red Crow warriors mercilessly swung their War Clubs and thrust their Stone Spears, killing these approaching "enemies." Over a hundred Red Crow elites thus gathered into a group, fiercely holding their corner in the camp.


    "Aran, more tribes are charging in, and the camp is getting more chaotic! We can¡¯t just wait here!"


    Chieftain¡¯s trusted aide Moqi called out anxiously. The warriors had been woke up early by Aran, gathering ahead of time. This quarter hour of early awakening meant the difference between life and death. Aran was the chieftain¡¯s daughter and an outstanding redhead hunter. Appreciating her efforts, everyone acknowledged Aran as the leader, temporarily following her command.


    "Uncle Moqi, Dad hasn¡¯t come back yet!"


    Aran bit her teeth, stood on tiptoes, and looked toward the mountains. The firelight rendered the nearby campsite blazingly bright, whereas the distant forest remained unseeable. Only deep darkness lingered there, occasionally bursting with beast-like roars, as if to swallow life itself.


    "We can¡¯t wait any longer, the battle cry has been called!"


    The redhead hunters gathered around her, looking seriously at Aran. They temporarily followed her command but were not going to obey indefinitely. Seeing this, Moqi stepped forward and said affirmatively.


    "The chieftain is too far away to come back! The elite of the tribe is all here, quickly lead the warriors away!"


    "But..."


    "Aran, don¡¯t forget the old chief¡¯s words. The survival of the tribe is everything, no one is indispensable... Hurry and lead the warriors away! If the chief truly can¡¯t come back, then a new chieftain will lead everyone. I hope, that person can be you!"


    "Uncle Moqi..."


    Aran bit her lip hard, the pain bringing her to a more alert state. She looked towards the fort, seeing a Hell of Fire scene. Flames fiercely burned, tribal folk screamed in battle, and corpses lay everywhere. The young huntress finally made a resolve.


    "Go! Head north, back to the old camp! Anyone who blocks our retreat, kill them!"


    "Ow!"


    The Red Crow warriors cried out all at once, then followed Aran¡¯s lead, charging down the northern mountain path.


    A few hundred meters away, at the Red Monkey camp, a clash had just momentarily paused. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Zucata, continue to form the Spear Formation, hold the camp entrance! Whoever charges in, kill them all without hesitation! Red-haired elite, command the warrior squads. Take out the prepared mud and smother the campfire!"


    "Yes, chieftain!"


    Zucata responded in a muffled voice.


    The Red Monkey encampment had a complete fence and gate, and although part of it had been burned away, it mostly remained intact. At that moment, Zucata, holding a long spear in both hands, stood at the entrance of the encampment. Beside him was a small formation of forty to fifty people with long spears, and in front of them were dozens of fallen bodies of the Canine Descendants. The young Militia, Chipawa, also held a long spear in both hands, mingling with a few old brothers from Tarasco, yet the tip of his spear had no blood on it.


    "Boom, boom, boom, boom!"


    Four thunderous sounds exploded again, terrifying prayers arose in the camp. Randomly shot fire arrows ignited the vegetation, illuminating the faces of hundreds of people in panic and uncertainty.


    In the center of the gathered Tribes warriors was the camp¡¯s fire pit. Ozoma, panting, stood in the firelight, comforting his men loudly while counting his warriors. His copper armor was completely soaked in fresh blood, just like the blood-dripping War Club in his hand.


    The Mexica attack had come suddenly, with tremendous force, shocking everyone. The camp was momentarily in chaos, someone led the screaming, and many people ran around recklessly.


    The Red Monkey Chieftain himself led his personal guard to suppress it. He did not discriminate against anyone, killing dozens of people in the camp before the situation was barely stabilized. Then, scattered militiamen and unidentified enemies stormed in, and the sudden battle persisted for a quarter, killing dozens more warriors and defeating the enemy.


    After a brief count, adding the death and dispersal, the number of Red Monkey warriors had reduced by one-third, now fewer than a thousand.


    "Damn! My warriors!"


    Ozoma¡¯s heart bled. He looked up at the night sky as another fireball came hurtling down, smashing into the front of the camp.


    Not long ago, the massive fires in the mountains still deeply engraved in the hearts of tens of thousands of Canine Warriors. Now facing another celestial fire attack, the encampment ahead finally broke down! Countless figures fled from the campsite, desperately colliding toward another campsite. Subsequently, thousands of warriors from both encampments, as if possessed, fiercely fought each other. In less than half a quarter, screams and howls came with the wind, like the mournful songs of dying autumn birds.


    "Heavenly Divine! The divine weapon of the Mexica, so terrifying!... Earth Mother Goddess, please protect me, do not let the fireballs smash here! Chief Divine of the Mexica, also please protect me, I will devoutly offer sacrifices!"


    Ozoma muttered to himself, praying to the myriad gods, filled with dread. It was close, just a moment ago, the Red Monkey camp almost completely dispersed! He looked serious, asking his trusted Scout.


    "Which two camps were those?"


    "The bombed one was Red Salamander Camp, the one that got stormed was Red Frog Camp."


    It was difficult to distinguish directions at night, the trusted Scout squinted his eyes, confirmed for a while, then assuredly answered.


    "Haha, dog eats dog, a mouth full of fur. Damn Red Salamander, Red Frog, for laughing at me earlier!"


    Ozoma cursed bitterly, then immediately became tense again.


    "Those two camps are near the main camp of Red Dog!"


    "Yes, Chieftain! The main camp of Red Dog is over there, where most of the burning is happening!"


    On hearing this, Ozoma quickly looked up toward the main camp of Red Dog. The main camp was a key target of Mexica, with fires burning everywhere. Amid the surging flames, occasional warriors from Red Dog fled the camp, vanishing into the darkness. However, the main force of Red Dog¡¯s grand camp didn¡¯t seem to have dispersed nor were there hysterical screams.


    "The leader of Chichika... alas!"


    Ozoma¡¯s expression changed, a torrent of thoughts clashing in his mind, then transformed into a long sigh.


    "What about Red Deer Camp?"


    "At the start of the night raid, the Red Deer Tribe fled north in a swarm! It seems that Masate Chieftain led them, running at the front."


    The trusted Scout sincerely asked without reservations.


    "Chieftain, the rear camp also broke down, all the tribes are in chaos. The Mexica will definitely launch a major attack by morning!... Shall we escape now?"


    "... No. Secure the camp, just wait! Running at night, colliding with each other, who knows how many will disperse, how many will be injured."


    Ozoma pondered for a while. He looked toward the camp, under the command of Red elites, the warriors had gradually regained order, staunchly defending the camp. The Red Monkey Chieftain made up his mind, instructed.


    "The divine weapon of the Mexica is all thunder, no rain. As long as we do not lose our formation, not that many will die! We... will wait till dawn to move!"


    "As you say! Chieftain is wise." Stay tuned to FreeNovelFire


    The trusted aide nodded in agreement, smiling.


    "Hmm, the camp has stabilized. You take charge outside, I need to return to the main tent."


    Ozoma surveyed his surroundings, his expression suddenly flickered. He involuntarily lowered his voice.


    "Send two men, secretly escort the captured enemy leader to the main tent!"


    "Ah, the leader just now? He was hit by a spear, it¡¯s Zucata¡¯s war trophy. Chieftain, what do you want with him? He¡¯s just a stocky redhead hunter..."


    "Fool! This attack came suddenly, clearly premeditated. He has backers... stop asking! Give Zucata a reward, bring the man to me, quick!"


    "As you say! Chieftain is wise."


    The trusted aide immediately left. Ozoma stood up straight, gazing into the distance. Fire descended from the sky, burning everywhere, yet not forming fierce blazes. Thousands of warriors from various tribes ran amok in the firelight, continuously colliding and fighting, with very few actually burned to death.


    "Mountain camps lack fuel, unable to create a fire that destroys everything."


    Ozoma sighed deeply, chanting in a low voice like a wilderness Priest.


    "But the flame of human hearts has already blazed up, unstoppable!"

 Chapter 652 - 341 Chichika’s Oath

    "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"


    The terrifying thunder was within an arm¡¯s reach, roaring just below the main camp like fearsome specters. The whistling fire arrows tore through the night sky, and rolling fireballs attacked from afar, turning Red Dog¡¯s front camp into a sea of flames! Soon, pungent smoke filled the encampment, and the toxic scent of sulfur overwhelmed even the bravest red-haired Hunter, rendering him unable to stand his ground.


    Chichika Chieftain¡¯s face smeared with soot, he retreated awkwardly to the higher ground at the back of the camp under the escort of red-haired Hunters. This area with steep and bare terrains did not have burning forests. On both sides were towering mountains, where a mighty mountain wind dispersed the poisonous smoke.


    "Raise my flag, gather the tribal warriors!"


    As soon as Red Dog Chieftain moved away from the flames, he urgently roared out. He stood on the highest rock, holding a torch high in his hand, revealed to all.


    The sky full of fire arrows paused momentarily, but sporadic fireballs continued rising incessantly. The fireballs loudly crashed into various spots of the camp, spreading unknown fear. Suddenly, amidst the dim fire light, a hysterical shout erupted from the Red Salamander encampment, and countless figures burst out from the camp, rushing into the nearby Red Dog encampment.


    Then, a wild shout exploded in the Red Dog encampment too, and large groups of figures surged out. Countless warriors chaotically collided, swinging their weapons, stabbing into "enemy" bodies. On this terrifying night of flames, two large tribes loyal to their leaders, thousands of elite Canine Warriors, just like that, without distinguishing friend from foe, frenziedly fought each other!


    "No, my warriors!"


    Chichika roared in agony, his expression on the verge of splitting. He looked around; flames like tidal waves inundated the lower areas, with tribal warriors running around in chaos. He listened to the left and right, where the thunder reverberated through the valleys, mixed with sharp cries of panic and fear. Over ten thousand diligently gathered Guajili elites, just like that under the unknown attack of the Mexica, suddenly completely collapsed in the depth of the night!


    "No! Roar!...Roar! I¡¯ll kill you all!"


    Red Dog Chieftain¡¯s eyes were bloodshot, furiously roaring. Countless past efforts, countless future plans, all in one night, turned to ashes with the fire. After a while, Chichika barely calmed down. He took a few steps, grabbed the tribal Priest Zuma by his collar with one hand, and pointing towards the fireballs rising from the enemy camp below, he demanded.


    "Zuma, what is this?!"


    "Ah! Great Chief... This, this must be a spell from the Mexica or a weapon bestowed by the gods..." the elderly tribal Priest Zuma choked, struggling to breathe under the grip of the Great Chief. His efforts to speak were labored, like an old owl in the claws of a coyote.


    "It¡¯s like the previous...Catapult...except it throws fireballs..."


    "Catapult?"


    Chichika paused for a moment and then showed a touch of realization.


    "So the wood beast from the other days was for today!"


    "Cough cough!..."


    Red Dog Chief released his grip, and old priest Zuma coughed repeatedly. In Nava language, Zuma means "Anger," and Montezuma is "One who makes oneself angry." Of course, in front of Chichika right now, "Angry" Priest Zuma could only passively endure the other¡¯s rage, daring not to show his own anger.


    Chichika¡¯s expression was fierce as he stared at the priest¡¯s aged face and asked again.


    "Priest Zuma, what about those fire arrows and thunder sounds?"


    "Cough cough!...Great Chief, it¡¯s all about unity and proliferation, coexistence of all things. The gods are part of nature and follow its laws... Since the gods can create a stone-throwing beast, a fireball-throwing beast, they can also create one that shoots fire arrows, emitting thunder sounds. Now it seems, the Mexica¡¯s gods are adept in creating wood beasts, surely led by a craftful Evil God!"


    Zuma steadied himself, answering conclusively. No matter what the real truth was, at this moment, the most important thing was to provide a simple, reassuring explanation to the tribal warriors terrified by the unknown.


    "Various types of wood beasts...A craftful Evil God..."


    Fear flashed across Chichika¡¯s face. He then asked urgently.


    "If so, esteemed Priest Zuma, do you have a way to counter the enemy¡¯s wood beasts?"


    "Cough cough...Great Chief, it¡¯s the cycle of balance. The stronger the entity, the more fatal its weakness. Gods¡¯ creations are no different, lacking the human spirit..."


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    Priest Zuma¡¯s expression flickered. As he spoke using the rhetoric of the wilderness priests, he rapidly pondered his next words.


    "Well, you see, these beasts, although releasing thunder and fire, can¡¯t move, can¡¯t strike our steep camps. Thunder, although violent, and fire, although searing, lack precision and can¡¯t truly harm many people. That¡¯s nature¡¯s limitation, everything has balance..."


    "Priest Zuma! What do we do now?!"


    After listening for a moment, Chichika¡¯s expression turned fierce again. He looked at the chaotic fire light around, feeling as if there were flames burning inside him.


    "Can you cast a spell to counter the enemy¡¯s wood beasts?!"


    "Eh, respected Great Chief...The warriors are so panicked because it¡¯s their first time encountering the creations of the Evil God, and it¡¯s happening in the dark night, their spirits devoured by unknown fears. Once they see it more, get used to the roar of the creations, find the weaknesses, they won¡¯t be so..."


    "Now, I want you to cast a spell! Can you or not?!"


    "Ah, well... There are too many enemy priests, their mana too strong. My materials have fallen in the camp, all burned out..."


    "Get out!"


    Chichika bellowed, tossing the old priest away.


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 Chapter 653 - 341 Chichika’s Oath_2

    "Take a few Priests and appease my warriors!"


    "Cough cough! As you command, Great Chief."


    Zuma crawled up from the ground and hastily fled as if in escape.


    Chichika¡¯s eyes were red as he continued to stand his ground. He glared fiercely at the enemy camp, like an angry bison from the north.


    "Uh... Chieftain, I¡¯ve counted the Tribal Warriors. There are about two thousand left, with more than eight hundred scattered. Among the remaining warriors, six hundred elite redheads are mostly accounted for."


    Uman reported to the Chieftain on bended knee, war club in one hand. The Red Dog Tribe was the most powerful in the wilderness, and they always had a high proportion of redhead Hunters. During the onslaught of the sky fire, these elite had barely maintained order within the tribe, allowing the warriors to retreat without scattering and now regathering.


    "All six hundred redheads are present!"


    Upon hearing this, Chichika breathed a sigh of relief. The redhead elite were the backbone of the major Tribes, equivalent to the reserve of seasoned soldiers. The Tribal Warriors could be summoned or conscripted from various parts if lost, but if too many redheads were lost, the tribe would truly be devastated.


    "Uman, dispatch people, and do your best to gather the scattered troops from all parts!" Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Uh... As you command, Chieftain."


    Uman nodded but didn¡¯t move his feet. He glanced at the Chieftain, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke woodenly.


    "Chieftain, I think, our current situation, is not good... very bad!"


    "Nonsense, I¡¯m not blind!"


    At this, Chichika, eyes still red, almost laughed from anger. He pointed at the fires of the camps and berated.


    "What are you trying to say?"


    "Uh... Chieftain, I think, we can¡¯t hold this place. All the parts have collapsed, and we of the Red Dog Tribe should leave quickly too!"


    "Hmm?!"


    Chichika stepped forward and grabbed Uman by the collar fiercely.


    "What did you say?"


    "Uh... I said, we can¡¯t hold this, it¡¯s time to go."


    "Say that again?"


    Fire seemed to blaze from Chichika¡¯s eyes, a dangerous intent to kill rising within them.


    Uman looked at the Chieftain, his eyes somewhat blank and dazed, yet his expression extraordinarily resolute.


    "Chieftain, the warriors¡¯ morale is gone, we can¡¯t fight this battle. We have to abandon this place, retreat a hundred and eighty li, and properly reassemble our forces... Actually, actually, I think we shouldn¡¯t stay in one place for too long, fighting these kinds of head-on, stupid battles..."


    "Smack! Smack! Smack!..."


    In a fury, Chichika pulled out his whip and lashed out six or seven times, knocking Uman to the ground, then whipped him another seven or eight times.


    "I¡¯ll whip you to death! You¡¯re rebellious!"


    "Ah!..."


    Uman cried out in pain, rolling back and forth on the ground. After a while, he climbed up, covered in dirt, and continued speaking to the Chieftain.


    "Chieftain, I still think, we should leave."


    "You!"


    Chichika once again raised his whip, burning with anger. Then, meeting Uman¡¯s blank but resolute gaze and seeing the bloodstains on his face, something softened in his heart. After a while, the Red Dog leader slowly lowered his whip and asked in a deep voice.


    "... If we abandon this strategically crucial stronghold, we won¡¯t have much room left behind. The walls of the small city of Pamus are low and the area narrow. The terrain in the Valley is open, tens of thousands from the Tribes scattered everywhere, how can we defend it?"


    "Uh, Chieftain, there¡¯s the mouth of the Valley behind us, we could hold it for some time."


    "The mouth of the Valley is rather open, and the terrain isn¡¯t high or dangerous enough. The Cactus Tribe¡¯s attacks are fierce, and it won¡¯t hold for long."


    "Then take the Tribes and leave the Valley. We can escape into the wilderness from the northwest, or flee through the mountain paths to the northeast or the East..."


    Hearing this, Chichika lowered his gaze and didn¡¯t speak for a long time.


    "Chieftain!"


    Uman knelt on the ground, burying his head at the feet of the Chieftain like a subdued wolf.


    "Say no more!"


    Chichika shouted angrily.


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    "Summon the Scouts to me! Everything is in chaos now, and the Tribes have no idea how many they have lost."


    Afterward, the Red Dog Chieftain stood on high ground, once again surveying all directions. Before long, Scouts from various directions returned, reporting back to the Chieftain.


    Chichika personally arranged the camps for the Tribes. The current situation fell into view one by one, which, combined with the Scout¡¯s intelligence and his memory, turned into a helpless sigh.


    "Ah! The rear camp has collapsed, Red Deer has fled, and Red Salamander and Red Cranes are slaughtering each other in their camps¡­ Red Monkey, they should still be there."


    Seeing this, Chichika¡¯s emotions were complicated. That the Red Monkey Tribe had managed to hold out until the end in the night assault was unexpected. He pondered for a long time and finally took a deep breath, forced to confront the cruel reality.


    "Uman, you¡¯re right, the camp can be forsaken. But retreating now is too dangerous, the Tribes could easily disperse on the night roads!"


    Chichika suppressed the emotions in his heart, pacing back and forth. Then, he looked toward the distant sky, the long night was about to pass, the noise of people was gradually receding, and the Morning Star had already risen from the East. He turned to look at the camp, where the Priests had just calmed the people¡¯s hearts. Two thousand Tribal Warriors, once again, gripped their Hunting Bows and Long Spears tightly.


    "Dawn is approaching! When daylight comes, we will first lead the Tribes back. Then we will gather the scattered warriors from each Tribe and fight the Cactus Tribe once more!"


    "Uh... Chieftain, the Cactus Tribe has long been plotting this, they won¡¯t let us leave easily!"


    "I know!"


    The Red Dog Chieftain became somewhat irritable. He swung the whip in his hand, sending out a sharp whistle.


    "I will leave some people behind to rely on the remaining encampment to block the Cactus Tribe¡¯s army!"


    "Uh... Chieftain, the Tribes need to maintain distance during the retreat, and it will take time to collect warriors from each Tribe. The Cactus Tribe¡¯s offensive is fierce; ordinary men can¡¯t hold them back."


    "Damn it! Uman, can¡¯t you shut up?!"


    Chichika couldn¡¯t help but roar out loud.


    "Don¡¯t caw like a jackdaw in front of me, voicing ominous sounds!"


    "Uh... Chieftain!"


    Uman knelt again, once more pressing his head to the feet of the Chieftain.


    "What exactly do you want to say?"


    Chichika impatiently grasped the other¡¯s hair.


    "I will stay behind and resist the advance of the Cactus Tribe!"


    Uman lifted his head. This time, his eyes were clear, devoid of any dullness.


    "Chieftain, now only I can buy you time!"


    Upon hearing this, Chichika suddenly stood still, motionless. He slowly lowered his head, looking into the eyes of his trusted aide at his feet, silent for a long time.


    "Chieftain, I am a wolf, willing to die for the Wolf King."


    A fierce smile appeared on Uman¡¯s face, the bloody whip marks quivering.


    "Our Red Dog Tribe will surely endure in the Wilderness!"


    "Uman..."


    Chichika lowered his gaze, once again grasping his beloved general¡¯s hair. This time, he did not let go for a long time.


    "I give you six hundred warriors, fifty red-haired ones! Hold for two days for me!"


    After a while, the Red Dog leader turned his back, looking toward the dawn in the East. He silently bit through his lips, and with the pain of the blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder, he made a hate-filled oath.


    "May the ancestors witness! If you die for me in battle, I will slaughter the three thousand Otomi agricultural slaves in the Valley, then gather warriors from each Tribe to avenge us against the Cactus Tribe!"