Aztec Eternals

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Night has come. Darkness fell from the airy ceiling and enveloped the corners of the tent. The slightly cold breeze hit, the bonfire swayed dimly, and a deep silhouette was drawn on His Highness's face, like a black eagle that could not be seen clearly on a high mountain.

Following His Highness's inquiry, the hall was quiet for a while. Ezpan was shaken. He raised his head and opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but somehow couldn't speak. He peeped at His Highness's expression again, and felt that it was like a sculpture, indistinguishable from joy and sorrow, and he had no way of figuring it out. Looking at the warrior chief next to him, Bertard just had a calm face, vicissitudes like an ancient tree hundreds of years old, guarding beside His Highness.

Ezpan opened his mouth again, only to say "Um..." mixed with Tarrasco's dialect. He shut his mouth in fear, and bowed his head again. The bump and pain in the head sobered him up and made him reorganize his language, remembering the Mexican pronunciation.

After kowtowing ten times, he finally gathered enough courage, looked up at His Highness's still calm face, and shouted for his own destiny.

"His Royal Highness, I want to be the commander of the new army! I can lead the new army well!"

Shirlot stared at the Tarasco man kneeling in front of him. There was no emotional ups and downs in his eyes, and there was no obvious change in his expression. After a long while, it was not until Ezpan's courage was exhausted that he slumped on the ground powerlessly again, and then he heard His Highness's divine words.

"Ezpan, how can I trust you?"

Ezpan was refreshed, as if illuminated by light. He grabbed the sun talisman on his chest tightly, raised his head and said eagerly.

"His Royal Highness, although I am from Tarasco, my parents died when I was young. Since I was fourteen years old, I have entered Qin Congcan's mine, digging from the open-pit copper mine to the dark underground. The sun went down, and I worked like this for eight years without a full meal. Then I was conscripted as a pike militia, and followed the great army of the kingdom against the Fatkos. Never had a decent cotton armor, only the one in my hand. Long spears. Every charge comes first, and so fights for another eight years."

Speaking of this, Ezpan's voice gradually increased, with a dash of anger and sincerity.

"I served for the Tarrasco Kingdom and never received preferential treatment! The pike militias have no armor and shields, and have been used in the most difficult battles, with heavy casualties each time. Almost all the old brothers in the mine died. There are no pensions. Many times I just depended on luck to survive!"

As if to prove something, Ezpan suddenly took off his Mexica shirt, revealing his scarred chest. There is one of the biggest wounds, which has been cut along the shoulder to the lower abdomen.

"Your Highness, you also know that we were sent across the river in the last battle, as stepping stones for the warriors, as firewood for the army... I have no nostalgia for the Tarasco Kingdom!"

Seeing the scars all over Ezpan's body, Shilot was slightly moved and pondered.

Behind him, Bertard's eyes were solemn. He took a step forward, stretched out his strong and strong hand, and scratched across the large scar that was drawn diagonally on Ezpan's chest. Marking the width and coherence of the wound, he asked seriously.

"It's just a blow? What kind of weapon is this? It's so sharp that it can cut out coherent and extremely long wounds?"

Ezpan's full of emotions was instantly interrupted. He looked at the samurai chief in amazement, confirming that the other party's question was not a joke, and then tried his best to recall it.

"We were in charge of attacking a large Tekos tribe. There were thousands of them, and the camp was built in the mountains, which made it difficult to attack. Most of them only had wooden sticks or stone spears, a few had obsidian battle sticks, only the tribal leaders. There is a very sharp black knife. It is said to be black, but it is actually white near the edge...

The wound on my chest is when he was besieging the strongest chief, he cut off the spear with the first cut, and then cut through the cotton coat with the second cut... But he was also stabbed to death by the brethren..."

Hearing this, Xiulote's expression turned solemn. He had some vague guesses, and immediately asked in a deep voice, his voice fluctuating slightly.

"Where is the Tekos tribe you speak of? Is it Colima? Is that black knife on you?"

Ezpan tried to recall, and smiled wryly.

"His Royal Highness, I don't know where Colima State is. We landed on Lake Chapala, and then we were directed to go southwest for more than ten days. There are continuous mountains, not many people, and a long road. Difficult to walk. The tribes of Tecos gathered in the mountains, the tribes on the outside surrendered to the kingdom of Tarasco, but the tribes in the inner refused to pay tribute and often came out to loot... But I remember the location of the tribe, if I can reach it again There, you should be able to find it."

For the first time, Ezpan noticed the ups and downs of His Highness's expression. He was slightly overjoyed and continued.

"As for the black knife, of course, it was taken away by the nobles of Tarrasco. After I was cut, I immediately bleed and fell into a coma. Some of them have tried that black knife, and it is said that it is only slightly sharper than the bronze spear.

Later, the nobles also asked the militiamen to find a circle, and the entire tribe had only this black knife. The tribal witch doctor said that this is an artifact created by the former great witch with the power of the gods, as a symbol of tribal inheritance..."

Shirot's heart was turbulent, and he fell into contemplation.

According to Ezpan's description, it must be the Colima region, with rolling mountains and complex terrain, as well as the renegade Tecos tribe. Black knives should be oxidized iron knives. According to the metallurgy level of the tribe, iron knives are indeed not much sharper than bronze weapons. According to the local mining capacity, it can only be sporadic iron ore picked up from the surface, so only one weapon is forged.

The iron ore in Colima is buried deep below the surface, tens of meters in shallow layers and even hundreds of meters in depth. These sporadic iron ore is a drop in the bucket for the league. But they are of great significance, helping to locate the shallow iron ore before the Union can devote enormous human force to dig it...

Thinking of this, Shilot looked at Ezpan again, and his eyes were a little more gentle. He smiled slightly and nodded.

"Ezpan, with the blessing of the Lord God, let you survive a hundred battles, throw yourself into the arms of the great alliance, and let you meet with me. Put the black sword aside for now, and continue to prove your loyalty!"

Seeing His Highness's smile, Ezpan breathed a sigh of relief. Although I don't know that I catered to His Highness's wishes there, the future seems to be a lot brighter all of a sudden. So he answered in a loud voice.

"Respected Your Highness, the great alliance is far stronger than the rotten kingdom. The capital in the lake is unparalleled. It is a kingdom of gods on earth that I have never seen in my life. There are hundreds of thousands of soldiers in the alliance, and no one in the world can stop...

And Your Highness, your wisdom and divine revelation, is far more wise and decisive, simple and kind than Tarasco nobles. You value ability in employing people, regardless of birth. You can promote craftsmen as military nobles and civilians as battalion and army commanders. You are the only hope of civilians... Witness of the supreme Lord God, I am willing to dedicate my loyalty and life to follow you forever! "

Having said that, Ezpan fell to the ground again and kowtowed forcefully. Then, he looked longingly at His Highness, full of anticipation in his heart.

Xiulott's expression was calm, and his indifferent eyes looked at the Tarrasco people in front of him, waiting for something.

Seeing His Highness' unmoved gaze, Ezpan's heart froze. As a Tarrasco soldier, how difficult is it to prove his loyalty and gain the trust of the king!

Ezpan gritted his teeth. He remembered the rumors that had recently spread from the priesthood, and the ceremony of the Northern warriors' allegiance to the Alliance... He bowed his head sharply, and gave a deep salute to the chief warrior.

"Please lend me a dagger. Under the witness of the Lord God, let me sacrifice flesh and blood to prove my loyalty!"

Bertard was stunned for a moment, and he looked at Sherlot. The young man thought for a while and nodded. The warrior chief then took out his battle club, held it in his hand for alert, and handed Ezpan the obsidian dagger at his waist.

Ezpan took the dagger and fell to his knees. He stretched out his non-dominant left hand, stuck out his little finger, curled up the other four, and pressed it to the ground. Then, holding the sharp short dagger in his right hand, he gestured at the half finger first, then clenched his teeth again, moved to the weak joint at the base of the finger, and cut it with force.

The face of Tarrasco's training adjutant suddenly turned hideous. As he exerted his strength slowly and firmly, fine beads of sweat quickly seeped out from his forehead, and then converged on his face into a stream, rushing down. When the flesh and blood finally separated, he let out a low roar, his face pale in pain.

Shulot nodded, applauding Ezpan's determination and perseverance, and looked at him a little higher in his heart. Then, the young priest stood up, moved the brazier to the center of the big tent, and sang the prayer of the Lord God softly.

"Praise the Lord Huitzilopochtli! I pray to the Most High, offering the flesh and blood of the devout, and the soul of the convert... This is loyalty under the watchful eye of the Lord!"

Listening to His Highness' prayer, Ezpan dropped the **** dagger and took two steps closer. He held the sacrificial little finger with his intact left hand, looked at it with nostalgia at last, and threw it into the fire suddenly. Soon, a scorching smell of burning sebum came quickly, and then wafted in the wind. The faint blue smoke rose, forever taking away part of his body, and truly took away part of his soul, and ascended to the distant kingdom of God.

Seeing Ezpan's performance, Sherlot said mildly with a smile of praise.

"Ezpan, my child, from now on, under the testimony of the Most High Lord God, you will swear to Him that you will receive a sacred duty to glorify the Lord God's glory!...Come, recite His divine name with me, Praise the Highest Vizielo Pochetli!"

Ezpan obediently knelt down again, raised his head slightly, and looked at the burning "Holy Fire". He was a little dazed and a little looking forward to it, and with the satisfaction of being finally recognized, he whispered softly.

"Supreme Huitzilopochtli, I offer all my allegiance to fight for the Alliance!"

"Supreme Huitzilopochtli, I offer all my loyalty to fight for His Royal Highness!"

"Supreme Huitzilopochtli, I offer all my loyalty to His Highness and fight for His Highness!"

Hearing Ezpan's prayer for a conscious change, Shilot was stunned for a moment, then smiled contentedly. He waved to the samurai chief.

"Band him up with the best wound medicine."

Bertard nodded calmly, and took out the boiled cotton cloth and delicate herbs from his bosom. Then, he bent down, grabbed Ezpan's left arm, helped the limp Adjutant Tarasco to stop the bleeding, and then carefully bandaged it. On the ground, the dripping blood gathered into a mirror, reflecting Ezpan's strangely smiling face.

After a while, Ezpan knelt down again, and his expression returned to normal from the baptism. Sherlot looked at him with a gentle smile that determined his fate.

"Ezpan, you've shown your ability and loyalty, but it's not enough. The new army's commander has already been determined in advance, and it's impossible to serve with your qualifications. However, as long as you do what you need to do, train your spear well. Legion, keep proving your piety to the gods, and there will be a new starting point! When the legion is officially formed, I promise you the position of deputy commander!"

Hearing His Highness's decision, Ezpan's expression was gloomy at first, and then his face was full of surprise and bright. He said, "Uh ah", not knowing what to say, then knelt down forcefully and kowtowed "bang bang" on the ground.

This time, Shilot didn't count the wait. He continued to promise the future, inspiring the generals in front of him.

"Ezpan, I have high hopes for you. I don't care about the birth of your foreign miner, but the Alliance will care, and so will the other warriors and militias! So, you need to prove your ability, and you need to prove you loyalty...

Once a Tarrasco, now a Mexica, you must show up in the League's Westward Expedition! And when the Alliance conquers Tarrasco, I will also form the Tarrasco Legion, and that's where your truly great future lies! "

Hearing His Highness' bright promise and thinking of the ups and downs of this life, Ezpan suddenly choked up. The smooth road of hope was in front of him, but he couldn't help shedding tears. He kowtowed hard, grasped the wound of his severed finger, and woke himself up again with pain. After a while, he could speak hoarsely.

"I would like to die for His Highness!"

Seeing Ezpan's true feelings revealing, Shulot suddenly felt a little emotional.

"If I was also born in a poor commoner's family, when will I be able to struggle and get on the stage of the world?"

After thinking for a long time, the young man laughed at himself. He looked at Ezpan gently, and waved.

"Go down, Ezpan, and bring this bottle of wound medicine. I will leave the camp tomorrow, and you should do your training first. Soon, the new legion commander will arrive to replace the training chief Barda."

Ezpan kneeled respectfully on the ground and walked back to the door on his knees. Then, he got up, carefully exited the tent door, and disappeared into the vast darkness.

Shulot watched as the tent door closed again, and the darkness was isolated in the distant world. He thought for a long time and shook his head.

"Balda was born in a noble family and is an eagle noble warrior. After all, he is not suitable to lead a civilian army... Bertard, are you willing to serve as the army commander of the new army? This is a bit wronged by you~www.readwn. com~ But this new army will continue to expand in the future, and I will also make you a marshal during the Northern Expedition."

Shulot looked at the samurai chief, who was his most trusted subordinate, both in terms of loyalty and ability. In fact, deep down, he even sees Bertard as half a teacher.

Bertard looked solemn. He has followed Shulot for a long time, and he can already judge the young man's intentions, and he can also confirm that His Highness attaches great importance to the new army. After thinking for a moment, the samurai chief shook his head.

"His Royal Highness, I am willing to stand by your side all the time. I can serve as the commander of the new army for a short time, but it is not suitable to serve for a long time. As your chief of guards, I should not be a marshal and have too much exposure to military power."

Shirot lowered his eyes, thought for a moment, and nodded slightly. Then, he said with a friendly smile.

"Bottard, you have followed me for many years, and you know each other well, so you don't have to worry too much. I have no experience in commanding a large army. This time on the northern route, I will definitely rely on you and Teacher Oloshi. And you are the best in my heart. The marshal candidate!"

Bertard pondered for a moment, then spoke slowly.

"His Royal Highness, as a samurai from a commoner, I am not qualified to be a marshal. In fact, there is a most suitable honorable person for the position of marshal."

Shirot was stunned. He looked at Bertard's vicissitudes face and asked in a deep voice.

"who is it?"

"Your father, Captain Husok." Bertard bowed his head respectfully.

Hearing this, Shulot suddenly stood up and turned to look north. The young man's thoughts drifted far away, and when his memories flickered, his thoughts flooded in like a tide.

After standing still for a long time, he muttered to himself.

"Have my father as my assistant? . . . really . . good."

Fresh wind is coming from the zenith. The bonfire flickered for a while, then burned again, releasing more light.