Aztec Eternals

Seirot traveled west with the warriors for two days, and finally returned to the siege camp of Ottopan.

At this time, the dark clouds from the east have come quietly, covering the clear sky and falling the first drizzle in months. This spring rain brought precious rain to the seeds of spring ploughing, but left a damp shadow in the hearts of the warriors: the rainy season is coming.

As soon as he got back to the camp, Sherlot immediately found Avit and talked to him about the ambush on the road. Then the two went to report the military situation to Totec together. The cold-hearted commander looked at the captured bronze spears, bronze arrows, and long wooden bows with a serious expression, and nodded slowly.

"The Otomi may be sponsored by the Tarrascos and Tlaxcalans, which is a key piece of information. Next, the two countries may go to war in person. I will report to the king, it is time to think about it. It's possible to withdraw."

Totec immediately patted Shilot on the shoulder: "Next time I go out, bring some more samurai, you are a priest, not a warrior!". After he finished speaking, he turned away seriously.

That night, Tisok's angry scolding sounded from the king's tent.

It has been seven months since the siege of the city last September, and nearly 4,000 of the 50,000 elite warriors were killed in action. During this period, there was no glorious battle of ten thousand people, only constant guerrilla fighting, acclimatization, food poisoning, disease injury, and a failed siege.

Of the 60,000 militiamen in the camp and the rear, there were also 60,000 or 7,000 injuries, most of which were lost in the transportation of the mountains and forests and the guerrillas of the Otomi people.

During these seven months of war, due to the lack of food, the army did not capture many prisoners, and the number of Ottopan warriors killed was only more than 2,000, of which 1,000 were fish caught under the city of Guamare. As for the killing of a large number of civilians, it actually means nothing to glory.

The huge casualties made the city-states complain, and the small victory made the morale of the samurai low. These have greatly reduced the king's heart, and the prestige of Tisok is in the valley. He desperately needs the victory of this siege, using the fall of Ottopan City to prove the correct judgment of the king, and using the great feat of conquering the Otomi people to rebuild his prestige.

Seeing that Ottopan only had about five months of food left, the dawn of victory was clearly visible. At this time, no matter what, the king will not give up easily. Also, the long wooden bows and bronze weapons in the hands of the Otomi people don't really prove anything. The king preferred to believe it was a coincidence that the Otomi bought it from a merchant.

The war made the sensible king a little crazy, and Totec was helpless.

The commander-in-chief could only have a terrifying face, and ordered the scouts to go farther, always monitoring the movements of the Tarasco people on the south bank. As for the Tlaxcalans, the eastern Mexica city-states retained tens of thousands of troops, enough to deal with small-scale wars.

War is never shifted by the will of one party, it is a game of two or more parties. The dominant Mexica army wanted a glorious victory, while the weak Otomi nobles would spare no expense to avoid the fall of the mountain city and their own death. In this kind of confrontation, the lives of civilians are like falling leaves. When the wind blows, they rustle down and easily fall into the soil.

After returning to the camp, Shulot finally slept peacefully for two days. He could keep the battles and sacrifices of the previous two days in his heart. That night, suddenly the distant mountain city was full of commotion, and the chaotic sound of shouting accompanied the vague crowd, like fallen leaves drifting down, heading straight for the camp of the Mexicans.

Sherlot woke up immediately. He got up, put on a robe, and looked at Bertard, who was already armed. The two immediately put on their armor, hurried to gather the warriors who followed, and then came to the former camp to garrison.

Standing on the high platform of the former camp, with the bonfire on the edge of the camp, Shulot could see the crowd coming from a distance, and he felt a little doubt in his heart.

Night raids are highly organized tactical operations that only the most elite samurai can do. The Otomi people attacking in front of them looked a lot from a distance, but they were flashing scattered torches, and their actions were inconsistent. From time to time, the torches scattered in other directions, and even turned back up the mountain. The sound of the sky resounded, and there were vague cries floating in the wind, and the cries were mixed with the screams of women.

It wasn't until the crowd approached that Shulot realized something, and then a burst of anger surged into his heart.

Apart from the dozens of Ortomi civilian warriors in the lead, behind them were the old and weak women and children who were barely clothed. Some of them are old, some are young, some are hopeful, some are desperate, some are hesitant, and some are crazy. They only had a stick in their hands, and were driven forward by the noble warriors at the rear.

Shiroute saw a hunched old woman, with her head bowed and her waist down, unable to see her face. She was just swaying forward, leaning on a wooden stick. The crowd from the rear kept coming, and suddenly someone squeezed, and she immediately fell to the ground, with wooden sticks scattered beside her. The crowd's feet passed by, and the skinny body did not get up again.

These weak civilians just held a wooden stick, madly rushed towards the gap in the camp, and rushed desperately to the forest behind the camp, where there was a way of life they imagined. However, the Mexica warriors had long been ready. With shields and sticks, the warriors drew a tightly curved line to hold the camp and its perimeter tightly.

As a result, Shulot saw countless "moths" rushing towards the fire. The dozens of civilian warriors at the forefront let out a desperate howl, desperately charging towards the fortified battle formation. They slammed into the shield and were hit by the obsidian battle sticks that came first, then the leather armor cracked, the bones were broken, and they fell twisted and twisted.

Then there are countless Ortomi civilians. They feebly hit the shield, leather armor, or another civilian in the way with their sticks in front of them. Everyone rushed to the reef in front of them like waves, and then the waves spread and fell, leaving the reef unscathed, leaving only the thin bodies that fell to the ground weakly.

The warriors slammed their weapons ruthlessly, the battle sticks broke their necks and fractured their spines. The razor-sharp obsidian edge was like a sharp blade, severing and tearing the armless limbs, and blood splashed, staining the soil in front of the camp.

Shulot saw a young militiaman, holding a simple wooden shield in the crowd, trying to protect the woman and child behind him. But the crowd soon came to an end and crashed on the fortified "reef". "Reef" raised his battle stick, and a powerful swipe descended from the top side, bypassing the simple wooden shield, and hitting the back heavily.

The young militiaman immediately straightened his body, raised his head, and slammed his head up like a broken wooden slat. After one last glance, he fell silently. Shirout looked back again, the child had disappeared at the foot of the crowd, the woman screamed frantically, rushed towards her husband's corpse, and then a battle stick that fell head-on.

Shulot lowered his eyes, expressionless, and did not continue to watch the "moth" burning. Totec, who was also standing on the high platform, frowned. He had already judged the essence of this "night attack".

Immediately, Totec ordered two thousand warriors to put down their battle sticks and put on sharp obsidian spears. Then the two thousand warriors rushed forward fiercely, mercilessly stabbing the Otomi civilians who came in. The tip of the spear was inserted into the soft chest and abdomen, and the civilians fell in a neat row like thatch, and then the crowd behind them squeezed in another row, and so on. To deal with these living creatures that have neither armor nor attack power, the short spear has higher killing efficiency and less effort than the battle stick.

The battle club warrior in front came back to rest, wiped off the leather armor covered with blood and flesh, and replaced the worn blade of the battle club.

There was a steady stream of civilians fighting the fire, and it "burned" for three or four hours. The fresh life turned into broken arms and stumps all over the ground, and the ground was covered in red. It wasn't until the first ray of dawn that the commoners were almost exhausted, and the noble warriors who were driven from the top of the mountain to the mountainside nodded to each other and retreated to the castle on the mountain.

The war made the Otomi nobles go crazy too. They abandoned all the "burden", just to persist longer.

Soon, the morning sun lit up the red sky, the morning light reflected the blood-colored earth, the castle on the top of the mountain shone with light, and the camp below the mountain was filled with murderous intent. The warriors on both sides looked at each other across the mountain, and nothing seemed to have changed, except for the dazzling bright red in the middle.

The sky was already bright, and the warriors of Mexica poured out from the camp and divided into torrents that surrounded the entire mountain city. Scouts soon captured many civilians struggling to escape in the steep north of the mountain city. They were also driven, jumping off the undulating cliffs in the dark night, turning into corpses and surviving wounded. However, very few actually managed to escape. UU Reading www.uukanshu.com

The scouts counted the dead and wounded in the mountains, and roughly estimated the number of 20,000. Only a few of them were civilian warriors who voluntarily died and militiamen who protected their families. According to information, there were more than 10,000 warriors, 30,000 militiamen, and more than 30,000 civilians in Ottopan City, about 80,000 people. Now, there are only less than 60,000 people left in the city, most of them are warriors and men.

In other words, Ottopan City can stick to "only" two more months. The premise is that such a "night attack" does not happen again.

In the big tent, Shulot bowed his head slightly, and had a clearer understanding of the cruelty of the Ottopan nobles.

King Tisok smashed the obsidian staff in his hand angrily, and then roared to let the warriors behead all the captives and build them under the city of Ottopan. This was the first time that Sherlot saw the king lose his temper.

The surrounding generals were solemn and silent, exchanging glances and expressions, and occasionally some nodded slightly.

Undoubtedly, this "night attack" dealt a heavy blow to the morale of the troops on both sides. The nobles of Otomi still firmly control the city of Ottopan with the samurai in their hands, but the king of Mexica has been unable to effectively control the strong camp of the city-state army. The voice of the withdrawal began to circulate in the dark.

Walking out of the camp, Shilot looked at the distant sky. The sky is again covered with continuous clouds, the dark curtain is slowly approaching, and it is another light rain. Then, he looked into the distance of the camp. Under the command of the samurai, the militiamen were cleaning up the corpses on the ground, building the head into a Jingguan, and then throwing the rest into the huge earth pit.

The drizzle can wash away the bright redness of the earth, but can it calm the madness of the heart?

Shilot laughed at himself and shook his head.

"War makes people crazy, I have to be careful," he said to himself.