Aztec Eternals

The rustling autumn wind blew through the valley, yellowing the shallow trees in the wasteland, and also brought the chill of cold. The chief of Chichika died in the first battle, and all the Guaquili tribes lost their will to fight. In the next few days, the Mexican Legion rushed all the way, chasing the dead and chasing the north, recruiting and surrendering.

Red Monkey Chief Ozoma did not break his word. He was gone for less than a day, and he returned with the Red Deer Chief Massat, and offered the city of Palms in the center of the valley.

Under the leadership of the two Guaquili chiefs, Shulot led his pro-army slowly northward, approaching the fertile valley with a radius of dozens of miles. The flag of the black wolf fluttered high, and thousands of armored warriors were full of chills. Everyone walked through the harvested farmland and the tribesmen who were afraid of falling to the ground, and finally came to a long and simple town.

The area of ​​the small town is not small, but it is not a city in the strict sense. To be precise, it is more like a large tribal camp. It was surrounded by only a circle of low walls, one person high, and a circle of surrounding fences. The low city wall was not fully closed, leaving a large opening in the west. The opening is close to the meandering river, and thousands of acres of farmland are opened up. There are no canals in the farmland, and all rely on the streams in the mountains. At this time, it is full of withered and yellow straw.

"The defense is sparse, the terrain is open, and there is no city wall to rely on. No wonder Chichika is guarding Taniguchi..."

Shulot stopped in front of the small town and watched carefully for a while before asking in a deep voice.

"This is Palms City?"

"Yes, venerable Chief Death God!"

Orzoma stood by his side with a respectful expression.

"It is the last city on the wasteland of thousands of miles in the north! From here to the north, it is the wasteland of Satskas where we Guaquili people have lived for generations. The tribes of hunting and gathering. To the northeast of the wasteland are the Coavec tribes along the Bravo River, to the northwest are the Concho tribes along the Concho River, and further north I heard that there are countless hunting tribes, only the elderly The wasteland priest can say a thing or two..."

Shulot slowly nodded as he listened to Ozoma's narration. He looked north in silence, the brown mountains undulating, the green cacti receding, as if to the end of the world.

The Bravo River is the fifth longest river in North America in later generations, the Rio Grande (). It originates from the mountains of Colorado and is more than 3,000 kilometers long. The upper reaches of the long river passes through New Mexico, and the lower 2,000 kilometers is the natural U.S.-Mexico border. Along the banks of the Long River, there are many hunter-gatherer tribes, collectively referred to in later generations as "The Southwest" of North America.

Among them, the names of many tribes have been recorded in history in resisting the expansion of the Yankees and have been passed down to later generations. The upper reaches of the river are the Navajo people who are close to the Great Basin, the brave Apache tribes (Apache), and the Mescalero people of the mountain forests; the lower reaches of the river are the Toboso, similar to the dog The Toboso, the Lipan on the borders of the Great Plains, and the Coahuiltec tribes as far downstream as the Caribbean estuary.

Most of the tribes in the upper reaches of the river live on hunting and have always been agile and agile. The further down the river goes, the higher the proportion of the population engaged in gathering among the tribes, and by the Caribbean coast, almost all of them are farming tribes, and their temperament is more docile.

The Concho River in the west of the wasteland is a southwestern tributary of the upper Rio Grande. There are also tens of thousands of safari tribes living there. Opata, Pima, Tarahumar, Jumano, and the Concho clans that cling to the eight clans of canine descent ...

Thinking of this, Shulot lowered his eyes slightly. Too many North American Indian tribes perished in the brutal expansion of the Yankees. Millions of indigenous groups have been forcibly relocated, exterminated and massacred, without even leaving any names, deliberately forgotten by the writers of history. Since he came here, as the king of the aborigines, he is determined to change all this, no matter how long it takes!

In this era, if you want to cross the endless forests, grasslands and Gobi, and go deep into the wild and fierce North American continent, you cannot rely on difficult land routes. There are only three long rivers: the St. Lawrence River and the Great Lakes Basin, the great river in the north, and the Mississippi, the long river in the middle and south. River Basin, as well as the Southwest Long River Grande River Basin.

"Only by relying on the three long rivers, can we communicate with the Indian tribes of North America, spread religious beliefs, establish trade routes, and even establish subordinate relations to resist the constant westward colonizers. The St. Lawrence River is too far away, and the Mississippi River is too difficult. Only the Rio Grande is in sight."

Shirott's thoughts flew into the distance, thinking about the distant time and space. Those who do not plan for the world are not enough for a moment; those who do not plan for the overall situation are not enough for one area. For this vast continent, he has too many longings, too many plans, too many ambitions... but that will be too far in the future.

Miles begin with a single step. Right now, this small city of Palms will be the farthest that the Black Wolf King Banner has reached in the Northern Expedition.

Thousands of personal guards entered the city first. Afterwards, Bertard came out of the city and nodded to indicate safety, and the black wolf's king flag moved again.

When Shilot entered the city, he saw a low thatched hut and a large shed. In the corners of the city, there are scattered farmlands and domesticated turkeys. On both sides of the dirt road, there are thousands of dog tribes kneeling down, welcoming the arrival of the Death God Chief. The Great Chief went all the way to the center of the small town, only to see the first stone building, a small and dilapidated temple.

In front of the temple is a vast square with a newly built wasteland altar in the center. Various red flags are placed under the altar, and there are piles of bull head bones and abstract exotic wood carvings around.

"This is a large altar built by the priest Zuma. It was originally used to prepare the sacred wasteland sacrifice to sacrifice all the serfs and captives."

Ozoma has always observed the expression of the Great Chief and explained in a timely manner.

Shilot looked at the shape of the altar and nodded slightly. A few days ago, the scouts had already reported the movements in the city.

"Yes! This altar conforms to the tradition of the wasteland. As long as the logo of the main **** is added, it can be used as an altar for the grand sacrifice of the main god. Chichika has been busy, not only building the altar for himself, but also saving me a lot of effort. "

The king smiled, then looked around and ordered loudly.

"Put the banner of the Lord God on the altar! Then arrange the various 'jewels' produced by the kingdom. The war priests prepare the holy fire and blood wine in advance. I will combine the conversion ceremony with the **** sacrifice ceremony!"

"Praise the Lord God! Praise the suzerain priest of Shen Qi!"

The priests who accompanied the army bowed and began to prepare immediately. Since the kingdom began to be rich in "jewels", the rituals of sacrifice have been simplified a lot. The priests do not have to carry heavy gold and silver ritual vessels, they can simply replace them with hundreds of kilograms of "gemstones". There are too many "gems" fired in the kingdom, and the accumulated gems cannot be sold at once, so they are all used in sacrificial ceremonies and noble tombs.

"Where are the serfs and captives in the city now? Show me!"

After arranging all this, Shirot looked at Orzoma again. The red monkey chief bowed his head and saluted, and continued to lead the way. Soon, in the corner of the city, a dead camp appeared in front of everyone.

"Great Chief, there are about 6,000 serfs and captives from various ministries detained here. They were originally prepared sacrifices, but when the ministries escaped, they didn't have time to deal with them..."

Orzoma pointed at the camp, looking a little nervous and a little worried.

Hundreds of canine warriors were guarding the perimeter of the camp, and they all dropped their weapons and knelt on the ground. Through the fence, Shilot watched the thousands of people in the camp. All of them looked numb, ragged and emaciated. The guarding dogborn leader just shouted a few words, and they knelt down on the ground in fear, not daring to look at the armored warrior.

Tens of thousands of Otomi settled in the valley of Palms, and now these six thousand young men and women remain. In the wider wilderness outside the valley, the fields have long been deserted, and the villages are all dead.

"Fighting for the city, killing people in the city... Palms City, it can be considered clean."

Shirot shook his head. The Otomi nobles in the valley are almost dead, and the rest will be re-sealed around the Red Fox Valley. Palms City will be designated as the kingdom's direct territory, and the serfs and captives will be restored to civilians, busy with the kingdom's farming. As for the few Otomi nobles among the captives, the kingdom will partially recognize their identities, and then transfer them to other places.

Thinking of this, the king glanced at Ozoma and said in a deep voice.

"I said that the surrendered Guaquili tribes will not be sacrificed."

Hearing this, Orzoma finally breathed a sigh of relief. As long as the kingdom does not liquidate the slaughter of the various Guaquili tribes, and everyone surrenders, there is no psychological burden, and it is the same to whoever they are loyal to. The Union of the South was not only rich and powerful, but also distant. Waiting for the Mexican Legion to go south, the situation in this Northland is not yet...

"However, the surrendered Guachili tribes will concentrate on the south, cross the river in batches, and migrate to the hinterland of the kingdom! There is more fertile land and ample water sources. As long as they submit to the kingdom, they are all my people. , I will treat it equally!"

The king's words came again. The two Guachili chiefs looked at each other with a sigh in their hearts.

"Head Chief, our Guajili tribes have lived in the wasteland for generations, and this is our root! We moved south to the south of the Dahe River..."

Shirot cast a calm gaze, and Orzoma's words stopped abruptly. He stared blankly at the two of them~www.readwn.com~ before opening his mouth without any doubt.

"The Guaquili tribe must migrate! The belief in the Lord God must be spread! Go, tell your tribe, get ready for the conversion ceremony in a few days!"

"...follow your orders, my wolf king."

Orzoma fell to the ground for a moment, and finally answered softly. And Massat's expression changed for a long time, and he also kowtowed heavily on the ground.

"You go down!"

Shulot waved his hand, and the two chiefs bowed their heads and left. He looked beside him again, the samurai chief looked calm, but kept holding the battle stick in his right hand.

"Bottard, I will rest in the city tonight. You go to sort out the food in the lower city, and then draw out some priests and warriors to appease the serfs and captives in the camp. Send out messengers, and let all the leaders of the city come one by one. Greetings to Wang Qi!"

The samurai chief nodded and strode forward to make arrangements. Under the leadership of the two chiefs, the Guaquili tribes surrendered one after another, and they all camped outside the city of Palms. At this moment, there are more than 10,000 southern coalition troops stationed near the small town, and there are about 20,000 dog tribes who have surrendered. They need to be careful.

The setting sun was slowly setting, and the afterglow was cast on the vast land. The Palms Valley is long and narrow, and the distant sound of fighting still reverberates at the mouth of the east and west valleys, like the end of the northern expedition.

A kestrel spread its wings and rose above the mountains. It looked at the tribesmen fleeing in a panic, and at the samurai who were surrounded and chased. It knew that there was more food, more tribes, and more rivers that flowed into the vast lake.

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