Aztec Eternals

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Heavy rain in August. Clouds shrouded the four fields, and the world was full of swamps. This was not the time for war. The fighting stopped for a while, and both the Mexica Federation and the Kingdom of Tarasco were mobilizing their forces to prepare for a more brutal war.

In the rainy season, the new batch of gunpowder weapons can only be placed in the innermost layer of the warehouse and cannot be used. They are wrapped in layers, placed in airtight jars, and stored carefully. The soil nitrate in gunpowder has the property of water absorption, which will absorb water when the air is humid, reducing the performance of gunpowder, and it needs to be dried frequently. And these soil nitrates are easily soluble in water. Once washed away by heavy rain, gunpowder will lose its power.

Shulot stood on the watchtower of the wooden castle, and once again bid farewell to the main force of the sailors returning from the east. In this rainy season, gunpowder weapons are difficult to use, and the Alliance navy has no obvious advantage to go to a decisive battle with the Tarasco navy. The young commander asked Anatri to return to the east again, bringing in more reinforcements from the capital.

On the gorgeous boat, Anatri was still standing tall and straight in the rain. She was in high spirits and saluted the flag of the commander-in-chief. Then, her eyes shifted, and she landed on Bertard behind the young commander, with fierce fighting intent in her eyes and undisguised admiration in her expression.

The wind and rain were mixed, and the navy's fleet only rested for a few days before setting sail again to the east. Shulot watched the huge upstream flow eastward, and the female warriors on the boat gradually walked away. Then he turned his head and looked at the samurai chief with a smile.

"Bottard, I heard that last time I saw you off, you had a match with Anatri. Who actually won in the end? You seem to have come back very late that day."

The quiet samurai chief raised his head and stared at His Highness for a moment, before answering in a low voice.

"Two games before and after, no winner or loser... Your Highness, it's time for us to go north and negotiate with the Otomi people."

Shirot smiled lightly and nodded.

"Let the new reinforcements be stationed at the fortress. Bring the rested 10,000 advance troops, and we will start our troops north tomorrow!"

Early the next morning, the rain stopped a little. Ten thousand Mexica warriors gathered at the main fort, armed with battalions and longbows. They are fully equipped and ready to go into battle at any time. The long garrison made the samurai eager to fight.

Shulot handed over the defense of the main fort to his father. Immediately, he carried the battle flag, waved his big hand, and the marching bamboo flute blew, and the army set off slowly.

The Mexican army rushed in, the scouts released ten miles, and the soldiers pointed north all the way. Ten thousand warriors walked through the rolling hills, through the sparsely populated mountain villages, to the vast fields dozens of miles south of Ottopan. The Mirpa farmland begins to be dense here, and the fields are full of vigorous new shoots, which is the hope of the Otomi people for the new year.

The peasants in the fields were frightened by the army and fled north in horror, leaving the fields they had worked hard for for months. A year ago, the Mexican aggression was still vivid and unforgettable. Otomi's scouts watched all the way, delivering disturbing news one after another.

Shulot ordered the warriors to avoid farmland, choose suitable terrain to camp, and prepare for war. The heavy rain fell again, and the young commander waited peacefully in the newly built camp.

After another two days, Otomi's negotiating team arrived in a hurry, with only a few hundred samurai accompanying them.

Shulot did not leave the camp to meet him. Dressed in the solemn commander's garb, with a high bright crown of feathers on his head, and a golden sun talisman around his neck, he sat high in the tent of the camp. In the land of the Otomi people, he welcomes his guests as a host.

On the stone seat, Shulot was expressionless as he looked at the messengers who entered the tent.

The Otomi messengers are still old acquaintances. Nearly a year later, the young commander saw the old priest Oort again. The other party was already pale and withered, without the power of a groundhog roaring. Beside the old priest is Ottopan general Giova, who is also the commander of the warriors of the city.

The old priest raised his all-white head and carefully looked at Shulot, who was on top, his pupils shrunk slightly. Sherlot looked at him calmly, looking at his unusually old face, and his still clear eyes.

Giova's majestic body was erect. He stared at the narrow and sharp eyes like a glaring coyote, staring at the young commander in the middle. His hands were empty, his thick knuckles clenched tightly, still giving people a strong pressure. Bertard frowned, feeling the strong hostility, and then clenched the battle stick in his hand.

The two sides stared at each other silently for a moment. Sherlot spoke first.

"In the name of the High Lord God Zilopochtli! I come with the samurai's club and the feathers of peace. Otomi, my patience is limited and I cannot wait too long. Do not let the feathers fall from my hand!"

Hearing the obvious threat, anger rose in Giova's eyes, and he squeezed his hands together, but remained silent.

The old priest Ort nodded, took a deep breath, and replied loudly.

"In the name of the primordial **** Omete Otre! I come with the greetings of my friends. Mexica, the two sides have long since ceased fighting, and have entered into a contract witnessed by the gods. Now, in this busy and beautiful time, you Come with a large army, do you want to violate the sacred contract?!"

Shulot answered without changing his face.

"Otomi, the sacred contract is always valid, and you are the ones who violated the contract! You accepted the conditions of the alliance, obtained the last batch of food, and promised to send troops to harass the Tarasco people in the south. However, you did not keep your promise, You are just pretending! The army is coming, and I have seen with my own eyes that the spring ploughing of the Tarasco people is normal and has not been disturbed. Now, I need an explanation and a compensation!"

Alter bowed his head slightly, suppressing his powerless anger. He closed his eyes and opened them again, calmly speaking.

"Mexicans, we have harassed the southern coast, and the warriors have shed blood. But as you can see, the southern coast is heavily guarded, with stone forts and wooden forts, and the blood of the warriors cannot flow in vain... We are willing to deliver a large A pen of gold, silver and precious stones, as the sincerity of peace between the two sides!"

Shilot watched for a moment, the old priest looked calm, and Giova scowled. Then, he calmly shook his head and went straight to the point.

"The Lord God's eyes are watching everything, and there is nothing to hide. Wise Priest Oort, you should understand all this. As the commander of the Northern Army, I can't stand the potential tacit understanding between you and the Tarasco!"

Hearing this, the old priest's face turned solemn, he stared at the dignified young commander, and sighed secretly.

"The wishes of the Otomi people have never been concealed, it is only peace and self-cultivation. Your merciful Sirius, we do not want to participate in the struggle between the Mexica Union and the Kingdom of Tarasco. The original gods testify, and neither will we. To either side!"

Sherlot looked into Alter's eyes, smiled slightly, and continued to shake his head mercilessly.

"Alt, I can trust your sincerity, but I can't trust the Otomi people. It is impossible for the Northern Route Army to march south, leaving you in the rear and taking huge risks that cannot be determined. You must show your attitude and decide the war in the world. To be an ally of the Mexica? Or an enemy of the Mexica? Choose, Otomi, to live or to perish!"

Hearing the undisguised threat, Giova couldn't bear it any longer, he growled angrily.

"The warlike Mexicans and the Otomi people never fear war! The mountain city of Ottopan is as solid as a meteorite falling from the sky, and even if you give you an era, you will not be able to break through it! If you insist on war, you will be destroyed. Own!"

The old priest did not stop him. He let General Giova speak, but stared at the expression of Shilot in his eyes.

Shulot's eyes lowered slightly. He was silent for a moment and announced calmly.

"If you are unwilling to join the alliance to fight, the Northern Route Army will stop going south and go north instead. From the end of the month, we will destroy your autumn harvest! Within a month, all cultivation will be reduced to ashes. The hard work of the first quarter will be in vain from now on. , you can't even get the seeds back. Another year without a grain, and by this time next year, you will endure a famine that will destroy your homeland!"

Hearing such a cruel announcement, Giova roared vigorously like an erupting volcano.

"First to destroy the spring plowing, and now to destroy the autumn harvest. Ruin the autumn harvest, evil Mexicas! There are only ten thousand of you here. As long as we promise the messengers of the Tarrascos, we can work together to expel you and drive you away. Enter Taotao's Leman River!"

Hearing Tarrasco's messenger, Shirot's eyes narrowed. Immediately, he looked serious and responded indifferently.

"Let's face it, Otomi people! Two Mexican troops are pressing down on the territory, and the southern front is the main force of the attack. One hundred thousand Mexican troops attack day and night, and the Sitacuaro state is crumbling, and the Tarasco people can't protect themselves. They won't venture north to besiege the strong wooden fort. Their main navy is not there, and they can't cross the river!"

Then, Shilott smiled confidently.

"A new batch of reinforcements has arrived. The North Road Army now has 20,000 warriors, and the follow-up army is also endless. This is a force that you cannot resist! What's more, the times are changing, and new weapons have appeared. I can no longer bless you!"

Hearing the words of the new weapon, the old priest Oort's expression moved. He thought for a moment, then raised his hand to stop Giova's roar.

"My esteemed Highness Sherlot, I heard from the scouts that when you attacked the wooden castle on the north bank of the Leman River, you used a powerful longbow. I wonder if you can show one or two?"

Hearing the abrupt request of the old priest, Shiloh was slightly startled. He thought for a moment in his heart, thinking of the capture of the Tarrascos, and finally nodded.

"Ters, shoot an arrow outside the tent and show them the real thing."

Hearing the order, the guards opened the tent door, and the fresh wind blew on the face, bringing moist water vapor, and everyone cheered.

Afterwards, Teres, the personal guard in charge of guarding, gave a simple smile. He turned around, holding a longbow in his hand, took out a copper arrow, and prepared for the string. The simple warrior's eyes moved a little, and he stopped fifty meters away, where the wooden box where the Otomi people delivered gifts. He took aim slightly, then the longbow buzzed, and let go an arrow. Bronze arrows, like electricity, passed through the open tent door, and were nailed to the wooden box with a "bang", and the tail of the arrow trembled constantly.

Giova looked solemn. He strode forward, pulled the copper arrow out of the wooden box with force, and stood for a moment. Then, he came to the old priest silently, whispered a few words in a whisper, and the old priest looked solemn.

Ters, holding a big bow, also walked to the old priest's side.

The old priest Olt took a step closer and bowed down. He opened his old eyes, his eyes were like torches, and he looked at every detail meticulously.

He looked at the sturdy longbow, gestured the length of the lower bow, and pinched the hardness of the wood with his fingernails, frowning. This sturdy wood is extremely difficult to work with. Then, he stroked the tangled silk bowstring, observed the connection between the bow body and the bowstring, and analyzed the specific technical details.

Then, he took the copper arrow and feather arrow handed by Giova, and looked closely at the almost cylindrical wooden shaft. He tried the hardness of the shaft again with his fingernails, frowning. Copper arrows, sturdy shafts, and expensive feathers were all costs that the Otomi people could not afford.

Finally, he looked at the ramp-bone wrench on Tells' hand and let out a sigh.

"Mexicans, you are indeed extremely powerful and rich in the world. You can equip a large number of such hard long bows and consume such expensive feather arrows in large quantities. Your craftsmen must be thousands!"

After a moment of emotion, Alter changed his tone and looked closely at Shiroutte's face.

"However, His Royal Highness, with this weapon, trying to threaten Ottopan Mountain City is still just a delusion! You can't afford the loss of the samurai who attacked the city. Unless, what other preparations do you have?"

Shirot smiled confidently and indifferently. He looked calm, didn't answer, just opened his mouth.

"Priest Oort, as long as you send troops to the south and plunder the lands of the Tarrascos! We will help you cross the river and help you leave. We don't need the loot, all the treasures belong to you. Likewise , this time, you don't need to attack the fortified state of Akambaro. The Otomi warriors can choose freely, go all the way west, loot the state of Sakapu opposite Guamare, and even loot the wealthy Lake Chapala region! "

Having said this, Shirot paused for a while and looked at the old priest solemnly.

"Priest Oort, you were born in Guamare, and you know the surrounding situation better than I do. There is the Otomi tribe that you are familiar with, and I believe you can find a suitable target!"

Alter thought for a moment and asked the most important key.

"His Royal Highness, you asked us to join the war on Tarasco~www.readwn.com~ but allow us to form an independent army and choose our own targets?"

Shulot nodded and answered calmly.

"That's it. Priest Ort, we need more actions to build mutual trust, and it is not suitable to form a coalition directly. However, I will send a small team of samurai to follow your army and report regularly. You must really communicate with Tara. The Scots fight or else... the Alliance will not tolerate another breach of contract!"

After hearing these words, the old priest Oort fell into a long silence. Giova looked around the Mexica fiercely. Immediately, he touched his hair irritably, waiting for the wise and final decision of the old priest.

The bonfire in the tent crackled and the wind whistled outside the tent. After a long while, Alter looked at the commander of the Mexicans with difficulty, the familiar young Highness.

"His Royal Highness, we signed the last covenant. As agreed, you provided Ottopan with food for five months, helping us through the most difficult time. I don't believe in the Mexica Alliance, but I I believe in you, and I am only willing to swear with you!"

With a strange look in his eyes, the old priest stared at His Highness on the stone seat, and finally roared loudly.

"The contract of the gods is over! If you want us to join the war in Tarrasco, you must be in the name of the noble ancestors! Cut off your hair, cut your palms, and in the witness of all the generals, sign the blood of life with the Otomi people Swear the covenant, and engrave all the promises on the immortal slate!"

Shirot was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"Priest Oort, thank you for your trust. Who came to swear with me, is that you?"

The old priest Otto shook his head firmly. He turned around and pointed at the shocked Giova.

"No! My life is about to come to an end. It will be him who will sign a lifelong blood oath with you!"