Aztec Eternals

"Leader, the canine barbarians are collapsing!"

The sun slanted slightly westward, dyeing the yellow leaves in the mountains red. Warchief Mespa, wearing the cotton armor of an ordinary warrior, climbed the nearest hill in two steps. He listened to the reply of the family samurai, while looking at the battle situation ahead.

Two or three miles away, the flag of the red dog was swaying to the north, and the red-haired figure fled in panic. Mespa finally laughed with satisfaction.

"Haha! Hurry up and catch up, in the end you caught the wild dog's tail! If the order goes on, the samurai in the front team will all charge for me! The samurai in the back team will speed up their pace, and don't care about the rout along the way. Who can catch the barbarian? Chief, I will reward him with two hundred acres of fertile land from the fief in the valley!"

"Follow your orders, chief!"

The family warrior bowed his head and obeyed. Then, after hesitating for a while, he exhorted softly.

"Leader, the Ottopan Legion is more than a dozen miles away, clearing up the remaining enemies. The Mexican Legion is further behind, taking captives. Only the two thousand warriors of our Pams Legion are chasing here, and there are several hundred who surrendered. Barbarian...Are we going to slow down and wait for the rear army to join us before attacking?"

"What are you waiting for! The morale of the legion is in full swing, and the barbarians have already dispersed. The Palms Valley is just twenty miles to the north. The hometown of the warriors and the fiefs of the nobles are all within sight! At this time, it is time to pursue them. Let the enemy regroup!"

Mespa's face changed and he scolded angrily. Then, he looked around, in front of his confidant, and lowered his voice.

"What's more, the Legion has not made any achievements in the Northern Expedition. After the expulsion of the canines, the states will reward their merits. If there is not enough battle merits... How can we the nobles of Palms protect the fiefs in the state? Don't let outsiders interfere!"

"Leader...follow your orders."

Hearing this, Clan Wu nodded helplessly. He fell to the ground and saluted, then left with orders.

At a distance of half a mile, Amoxi silently crouched in the forest. He looked at the samurai samurai on the hill and let out a long breath.

"After searching for a long time, I finally found you!"

Amoxi clenched the bow and arrow under her body and narrowed one eye to watch. He gestured with a hand, and frowned quickly.

"At this distance, if you shoot arrows..."

Amoxi pursed his lips and turned to look beside him.

"Alan, that short and sturdy warrior is probably the leader of the other party... Yes, the one who was saluted just now is walking this way... When he walks to the mountain road directly below, you can be sure to shoot. ?"

"Dad, it's fine."

Alan was wearing a tight short jacket, which was tied with ties where it got in the way. She narrowed one eye, gestured with her fingers twice, and nodded affirmatively.

"Where are you going to shoot?"

"Uh, where did you shoot?"

Amoxi was stunned, this is also an option? It seems that Alan's archery seems to be far superior to himself.

"Shoot...hold the biggest spot."

He thought about it and added.

"Alan, I will rush out with the soldiers to attract the attention of the guards! Don't worry, wait for the best time!"

"it is good!"

The forest was silent again, except for the sound of low breathing. Mesper walked proudly, and when he walked to this narrow mountain road, his expression suddenly changed.

"kill!"

Amoxi roared and rushed out of the forest with dozens of elites. Mespa took two steps back and waved suddenly. Dozens of family warriors beside him rushed forward and fought against the raiding enemy.

"Whoosh!"

In this short gap, a bone arrow suddenly shot! Between the lightning and flint, the bone arrow passed through a distance of sixty paces, bringing out the whistling of death!

"what!..."

"Alan!"

The evening breeze is bleak, and the night sings and laments. Hongxia flooded the sky, and blood soaked the soil. Soon, the deep night devoured all the red. The darkness stretched all the way to the south, and finally stopped in front of the tent in the mountains.

"Your Highness!"

Bertard opened the tent door, strode in, and bowed his head quietly. Then, he glanced at the old acquaintance in the corner.

"Ok?"

The chatter in the tent stopped. Shulot raised his head, looked at the samurai chief who had entered the tent directly, and smiled.

"What's wrong?"

"His Royal Highness, the pursuing Pams Legion was ambushed."

Speaking of this, Bertard paused, his expression a little complicated.

"The Mespa chief was attacked and killed by the red-haired hunters in ambush. The Pams army then disintegrated. The Ottopan army rushed to rescue. So far, only half of the two thousand Pams warriors have escaped!"

"Fleeing and setting up an ambush again. O'Quilly fell to his death, Giova fell into battle, Chino fell to his captivity, and Mespa fell to his death in a fight... It's a tried-and-true tactic."

Hearing the reply from the samurai chief, Shilot shook his head, but his expression did not change.

Although the tactic of fleeing and setting up an ambush is simple, it is time-tested when used on an undisciplined enemy. It is not easy to implement this strategy. It requires sufficient maneuverability and flexibility of the troops, and is a classic tactic for steppe nomads and rogue old camps. More than a hundred years later, the peasant army in the late Ming Dynasty would also use the same tactics to defeat the officers who were good at battle countless times.

The king pondered for a moment, and a faint smile appeared on his face. He looked at the samurai chief and asked calmly.

"Pams City, originally a fief of Mespa, right?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Bertard nodded knowingly. He glanced at the corner again and spoke quietly.

"When the Guaquilis went south, the Red Dog tribe marched very fast. Chief Mespa abandoned his family and ran to Lampard with only his eldest son and a few cronies. Now, Mespa's eldest son died fighting in the Red Fox Valley, Mespa The Patriarch also unfortunately died here... Palms City, is already a land of no one."

Shuluo nodded and continued to ask.

"How many nobles of Palmsbon are left?"

"His Royal Highness, the leading Pams nobles were mainly attacked by the red-haired hunters, and there was not much left. When the dogs descended south, the killings were extremely heavy... The entire Pams Valley is almost a land without owners."

"Ok."

Shirot lowered his eyes and nodded lightly. Then, he seemed to ask unintentionally.

"Giowa's Ottopan Legion, how are you resting?"

"His Royal Highness, the Ottopan Legion has been rested. Although the Shancheng Legion suffered a lot of losses after several battles, its morale is still strong... It is completely under the Prince's control."

Bertard smiled quietly, with deep meaning.

"very good!"

Shilott smiled and calmly ordered.

"Since this is the case, let the Palmers Corps be transferred to the back! Let the Guamare Corps on top, pursue day and night, and put pressure on the canines. The main force of the Guard Corps will continue to fight steadily and support them from behind."

The king's few words determine the fate of many people. Then he looked at the figure kneeling in the corner and smiled gently.

"Well, it seems that what I told you just now needs to be changed a little. Now, the Palms Valley can be directly under the kingdom's direct control. After the Palms Valley is recaptured, you will be the Lord of Palms. I will also Form an army in the North, and you will be the commander of the army. To establish **** in the North, you can't do it without enough force..."

"Yes! Your Highness, follow your will."

The figure fell to the ground with five bodies, and according to the etiquette of meeting the king, he bowed nine times in awe. Then, he bowed down obediently, and in a low voice, recited a psalm of praise.

"Holy Majesty, you are a valiant eagle, bathed in the magical red sun, and bestows light on the northern land! ... This is a wasteland without green trees and vitality, which has been vicissitudes for thousands of years in ignorance. However, because of your arrival, it bloomed brilliant flowers and gave birth to lush vitality! ... Your Highness, you are the red light of the north! I will follow the guidance of the light and prostrate at your feet forever!"

"Haha, the poem is good, get up!"

Shiroute laughed out loud. He stretched out his hand, squeezed the other person's hair, and then lifted him up with his own hands.

"The more setbacks the poet encounters, the more beautiful the poems he writes. Balamo, it seems that you have experienced a lot of hardships in the past few years!"

Hearing this, Balamo slowly raised his head, revealing a weather-beaten face and a pair of extraordinarily deep eyes. He listened to His Highness's words, and there was a wry smile on his face.

"His Royal Highness, I have been in the wasteland for more than three years. I have eaten countless sandstorms, seen countless mountains, and encountered a white divine disaster. I have been thinking about it day and night and dreaming, waiting for your call! When your messenger sent the edict, I immediately rushed to the altar, prayed to the supreme Lord God, and praised your gift!"

"Oh?"

Shirot smiled slightly, noncommittal.

"How did I hear that when the messenger arrived, they didn't find you at first. And you were in the tent of a lady of Guammar?"

"Ah, this! Your Highness, I am following your will and spreading the faith of the Lord God! The glory of the Lord God has taken root in all the tribes in Guamal. Many female leaders who control the tribe have become devout believers of the Lord God!"

Hearing this, Balamo's face trembled, and then he showed sympathy and answered sincerely.

"For the light of the Lord God, I am willing to give everything! Even if I experience physical suffering, I must ignite the holy flame of light in the wild heart!..."

"All right."

Shirot put away his smile and waved his hand. Baramo immediately shut up and bent over to listen. The king looked at the samurai chief with a solemn expression.

"How many are the Guarquilis who ambushed the Pams Corps, and how many tribes are there?"

"According to the scout reports of the Red Frog Tribe, there are three thousand to five thousand warriors in the enemy, of which the redhead is close to one thousand. The main tribal flags are the red dog, the red monkey and the red crow."

"The main force of the Red Dog has collapsed, and now he can organize a counterattack. Chichika is a hero."

Sherlot praised. Then, he was a little puzzled.

"Red Crow Tribe? I remember, this is a small tribe that escaped from the Red Fox Valley?"

"Yes, Your Highness. The Crimson Crow tribe fled to the east and became a vassal of the Crimson Dog Tribe again. Their warriors were few in number, but their archery skills were excellent. The one who killed Chief Mespa was the Crimson Crow's hunter! "

"Ok."

Shuluo nodded. He has always remembered the prophecy of the old priest of the Red Crow, and he has also left an impression on this small tribe. The king pondered for a while and spoke again.

"The Red Monkey Tribe... It was this tribe that captured General Chipa before and quietly sent it to the main business, right?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Orzoma, the chief of the Red Monkey Tribe, seems to know a lot about the Alliance. He is not a stubborn frog in a well~www.readwn.com~ more like a water snake in a lake."

Bertard replied in a low voice.

"Well. The flexible water snake... Chipa's injury, is it healed?"

The king nodded knowingly and asked calmly.

"He has been in the back camp, and the injury has healed."

"Okay, call him here."

Shilot made a decision. Then, he turned around, looked at Balamo, and smiled lightly.

"Balamo, my poet-general. Before the light that belongs to you comes, there is still a small test."

Hearing this, Balamo's heart tightened. He hurriedly knelt down and made a respectful statement.

"Your Highness, I am willing to die for you!"

"Come here a little."

Shilot beckoned, and the poet general came on his knees. Seeing this scene, the king raised his brows and whispered his will.

The night is like a heavy skynet, shrouding everything in it. The bonfire in the big tent gradually dimmed, and the silhouettes shuttled and left. When everything was calm, the king stood in the shadow of the bonfire and looked up at the starry sky.

Autumn Libra outlines a shining diamond, twinkling in the path of the sun's movement, symbolizing a certain measure of human heart.

Xiulott watched alone for a long time, remembering some of the arrangements since Beizheng, his emotions were up and down, but he calmly said to himself.

"The northern expedition is to rule the northern land, not to expel the canine... Those Otomi nobles who hinder their rule must die in the war; those Guaquili tribes who favor the rule will be retained after the war. The war It's a continuation of politics, serving for the sake of rule... The so-called life and death, but that's it!"

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