Aztec Eternals

The end of April contains the sound of wind, and the sound of thunder is hidden in the wind. The thunder was interrupted by the hasty shouts of killing, which startled the birds in the forest. The fighting on the northern border never stopped. Thousands of dog descendants continued to plunder southward, fighting with the warriors of Ottopanban. Then, hundreds of Mexica scouts joined in. The kingdom's elite warriors were fully armed, and under the leadership of the Otomi scouts, they fought one after another with the Guakili and gained an absolute upper hand.

After several fights, the invading Guajili tribe noticed the difference. Soon, a brutal ambush ended in the forest. Two red-haired Guajili senior fighters looked dignified as they carefully examined the corpses of several new enemies.

Due to low productivity, the Guakili people are still in the barbaric tribal era, and the primitive tribal alliance has just taken shape. Each large tribe has a limited population, and the largest one is no more than 10,000 people. There is no obvious wealth differentiation in the tribe, and naturally there are no nobles and warriors.

In the tribe of the Guakili, except for a very small number of priests, there are usually only four simple and rough levels: the first level is boys who cannot fight and can be abandoned by the tribe at any time; the second level is those who can fight and give birth Juveniles are regarded as the foundation of the tribe; the third level is the warrior who masters fighting skills, the core of each tribe's strength; the last is the senior warrior who has experienced fighting, and is also the person who truly holds power in the tribe. These high-ranking warriors often dye their hair a sacred red as a symbol of being blessed by the gods. As for the old and weak in the tribe who cannot fight and work hard, they are usually not treated as human beings, and they don't live long at all.

"Damn it! Amoxi, where did this enemy come from? Like a cactus on the plateau, it's hard and prickly!"

Looking at the dead dog-born corpses around him, the young red-haired warrior let out an angry growl.

"I used a centurion, but I couldn't surround twenty people! The tribe lost twenty-five warriors, leaving less than ten corpses!"

"Ivikan, in the wilderness, an angry coyote cannot catch a vigilant antelope. You have to suppress your anger and learn to observe and wait."

Amoxi, the older red-haired warrior, shook his head. He groped carefully on the corpse in front of him, and then laid out the things he touched one by one.

"An obsidian dagger, an obsidian baton, five packs of replacement obsidian sharps. Hey, what a wealthy tribe!"

Amoshi gasped in surprise. He continued to check, with a hint of confusion in his expression.

"A golden necklace, engraved with the sun and hummingbirds, it should be a prayer tool. Huh, it's not made of wood, but the gold that city-state people like?"

"A hatchet on one side? What's that made of? It's sharp and hard, a good thing!"

"Well, a tough rattan hat, a rattan shield, and a complete set of cotton armor, the key parts are thickened with leather. Um, this smell, is it impregnated with precious oil? No wonder the soldiers' hunting bows couldn't shoot. wear!"

"Finally, a cotton packet with dried leaves and fresh grass?"

Amosi stared at it for a moment, but found nothing. He turned his head and shouted loudly.

"Ivikan, you are the scout captain of the 'Red Fox' tribe, and you have more knowledge than me. Come and see, what are these?"

Ivican approached, frowning. He picked up the leaves, sniffed them vigorously, and tasted the fresh grass.

"Huh, feathery leaves, special aroma, ink leaves? Slightly spicy taste, fresh juice, is it pepper? Ah, these are expensive herbs carefully collected and treasured by tribal priests, which can heal wounds and stop bleeding. Appearing on ordinary scouts! Damn it, damn it!"

I don't know what stimulated him, and Ivican's anger suddenly burned like a flame. Furiously, he took out a cactus fruit from his waist and threw it vigorously into the sky. Then, the captain of the scout took off the short hunting bow on his back, put on the animal tooth arrow on the reed pole, and shot into the sky with a "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh"!

His archery skills are so superb, each arrow will hit the cactus fruit accurately, even connecting with the previous arrow! The fist-sized fruit stayed in the air for more than ten breaths before it turned into dozens of pieces and scattered on the ground.

"Wow, praise Fengshen, what an archery skill to shoot down a condor! You are indeed the scout captain of the Great Tribe!"

Amoxi was full of smiles, and sincerely admired him. After venting, Ivican calmed down. He stomped his foot hard.

"Damn it! So what if you are good at archery? These new enemies are well equipped and able to fight. They are completely different from the poor and fearful Otomi people! Each of them is richer than me, has strong armor and helmets, and even It has a thick shield! The archery skills that tribal archers are proud of cannot break through the defense at all and cause effective damage!"

Ivican gritted his teeth. He only had a hunting bow, a stone spear, a torn cotton armor, and an obsidian dagger. Both the cotton armor and the dagger were seized from the Otomi people not long ago. At this moment, the scout captain looked at the equipment spread out on the ground, and continued to curse with red eyes.

"Damn! Where did this huge tribe come from? Batons, short daggers, hatchets, shields... the weapons and equipment of a scout can arm three tribal warriors! Their fighting skills are far more skilled than the Otomi, and their fighting will It is much stronger. Even when faced with the encirclement of several times the enemy, no one swayed and surrendered. What a dangerous jaguar! Spring plowing is just around the corner. If we don’t know the situation of these people, how can the tribe go south and how can they settle down with peace of mind?”

"Ivican, I have asked about the captured Otomi captives. These people are Aztec warriors, high-ranking fighters of the Mexica alliance. They are the reinforcements invited by the Otomi. Kencho Lake District!"

"The Aztecs? Ah, the rock cactus tribe that respects the sun? I have indeed heard rumors that they are good at fighting in the Lake Mikenchou area? Isn't there a territory of the Talas Condor tribe? How come there are Aztecs? "

"A year ago, the mighty Condor tribe was wiped out by the more powerful Aztecs. In the land of the Condor tribe, the great chief of the Aztecs entrusted a new chief, Shulot. It is said that he is a descendant of the god of death, possesses the spells of the gods, and is also very powerful."

Amoxi looked serious, and seriously narrated the news that he did not know how many hands.

"By the way, he is also the sworn brother of the new leader of the Otomi people. At the request of the Otomi people, this time he led his troops to the north to support him, bringing a full 10,000 soldiers!"

"What? There are still 10,000 such fighters?"

Ivican gasped. He looked suspiciously at Amosi.

"I don't believe it! Is this news accurate? Can you count so many captives?"

"I don't know, and I don't believe it either. There are a few newly captured Otomi prisoners in the tribal camp, and one of them seems to be a nobleman. You can ask yourself."

Amoshi shook his head. Such a huge number, he himself must not be able to count it, so he is also very suspicious.

"Hmm! When the hyena hunts the antelope, where can I show my back and let the dangerous golden eagle watch? Amoxi, it's urgent. Let's go north and return to your tribe's camp!"

Amoshi nodded in agreement. He turned around and took a few steps, then remembered something and turned back quickly. Then, he grabbed a short dagger from the ground and put it in his hand; he picked up a copper ax and put it on his waist; finally he picked up the cloth bag of herbs and put it carefully in his arms.

Ivican turned his head and saw that Amosi was still reluctant to part with him, and roared angrily.

"Damn it! Amosi, go, it's important! I'll let the soldiers leave a set for you!"

"Oh, well then! Ivican, my friend, your words will do the trick!"

Amoxi looked at the holed cotton armor on the ground reluctantly, finally turned around, and began to run fast.

Canines always run swiftly. The group headed north quickly, but returned to the camp within a day. Immediately, Ivican recruited the Otomi captives. After inquiring for a long time, he looked solemn, and immediately led the captives northward.

The team of scouts ran for a long distance, first crossed the southern border of Palms State, then ran for two days, and finally arrived at a warm valley. The towering mountains shelter the northern cold waves and keep out the dangerous cold. The gurgling stream flows down from the mountains and gathers in the lower part of the valley to form a shallow lake.

Thousands of Guajili dogs settled down by the lake in the valley. A red fox flag, a shallow wooden fence, and hundreds of thatched huts are the new camp of the "Red Fox" tribe.

On the outskirts of the camp, there were 200 patrolling scout soldiers. When they saw the Ivican team coming from afar, they saluted the red hair respectfully. In the camp, more tribal warriors shouted and waved their weapons, maintaining the order of the tribe.

Thousands of Otomi civilians, along with an equal number of Guakili tribesmen, busied themselves in the fertile soil by the lake. Most of these people are yellow and thin, with staggering steps, doing extremely heavy labor, but only have a little food, and some people fall to the ground every day. Under the strict requirements of the leader, they will burn down the trees by the lake, remove the stones in the soil, pull out the weeds in the field, and try to level the land to prepare for spring plowing.

Ivican stopped and looked at the tribe in front of him. He didn't care about the piles of corpses in the corner, he only saw a bustle of life. The tribe struggled hard from the cold wave, just like the grass growing in the crevices of the rocks, full of new hope!

The air by the lake is slightly humid, which makes people feel refreshed. The scout captain took a few deep breaths to calm down his ups and downs, and then took the Otomi captives to the longhouse in the center of the tribe.

As the sun set and the moon rose, the bonfire in the longhouse burned all night and never went out until dawn. Early the next morning, more than a dozen teams of envoys left in a hurry and went to the surrounding large tribes. Then day and night alternated, messengers hurried back and forth, and scouts shuttled like feathered arrows shot out.

As the communication center of the messengers, the chief's longhouse is always brightly lit day and night. The high-ranking warriors held meetings continuously, and the noisy disputes came from the center of the tribe. In the blink of an eye, another ten days passed before the dispute came to an end, and everyone barely reached an agreement.

On this day, the dog-born camp was boiling. The horns of the Horde sounded high, and the drums of war raged like a torrential rain. Soon, hundreds of red-haired fighters who were good at fighting each carried hunting bows, and led 500 senior tribal fighters, and quickly left the camp. Like a pack of coyotes running, they roared lowly, and soon merged into the southern forest and disappeared completely.