Aztec Eternals

The moon is hidden and the stars are few, and the warrior returns to the south. Fifty Mexica warriors hurrying on the road in the starry night, guarding the holy body of the high priest, hurried to the south.

Eva carried the high priest on his back and galloped all the way, running incessantly. The holy body of the high priest is extremely thin, like a light leaf, and it is carried on the body of the guard samurai, which does not affect his running at all. He passed through the outer city full of houses, smashed out of the suburbs patrolled by the samurai, ran across the dark and flat fields, climbed the rolling hills, and finally, at the dawn of dawn, came to the southern legion's camp.

The patrolling samurai team confirmed their identities and hurriedly released them. Within a quarter of an hour, Ewa passed through the camp and came to the coach's tent.

It was just dawn, and Xiulote was sitting cross-legged in the tent, drinking a bowl of hot black bean soup. He tossed and turned last night, always had an inexplicable heart palpitations, and never fell asleep. Naxiu boiled a pot of black beans and added some herbs to calm His Highness.

"The army on the south road is pressing down on the border, and the city of Cholula is in panic, and sent messengers to plead... Well, my grandfather went to the city of Cholula for talks, and there will be no problem!... God bless, may my grandfather return soon!"

Sherlot whispered to himself, kept talking to himself, and even prayed for a moment.

"I can see my grandfather again in two days at most... I have to persuade him well, he is too old to run around in the future! It always worries me..."

"His Royal Highness, the envoy of the high priest's personal guard, I beg to see you!"

Bertard suddenly opened the tent door and walked in quickly. His face was extremely bad, pale with worry and shock with sadness.

"The high priest's personal envoy? Come at this time?"

Hearing this, Xiulote suddenly groaned in his heart, casting an ominous premonition. He frowned, feeling almost convulsions of heart palpitations, and called out in a deep voice.

"Let him come in and report back! Cholula City, what happened?"

"...Your Highness, you have to prepare..."

Bertard pursed his lips and spoke in a low voice.

"His High Priest..."

"Ok?!"

Shirot suddenly stood up, holding black bean soup in his hand. His expression changed suddenly, his hands trembled slightly, and he asked sharply.

"Grandfather?! What happened to his grandfather?!"

"Hey!...Come in! Be careful, don't touch the high priest..."

Bertard turned around, sighed, and called out to the account.

Eva strode in, dusty and with tears in his eyes. He was holding a thin old man in his arms, a sleeping high priest with his eyes closed and a smile at the corner of his mouth!

"..."

Seeing that familiar face, Shirott's mind suddenly went blank. At this moment, he was like a stone and wood sculpture that had been infused with magic, standing there dumbfounded, unable to say a word or move a bit. He just looked at the thin figure, at the silver-white hair, at the grandfather he cared about day and night, his pupils diverged, as if he had lost his soul.

"His Royal Highness! High Priest he... he..."

Eva fell to his knees with a "pop". With tears in his eyes, he carefully placed the sleeping high priest on the cotton blanket in the tent. Then, he gritted his teeth, resisted the grief and anger in his heart, and let out a low cry.

"The high priest, poisoned by the priests of Cholula!"

"boom!"

Like a blast of thunder, it suddenly exploded in my mind. Shirot's hands and feet trembled, his eyes were red, and he stumbled towards him. The pottery bowl in his hand fell to the ground and smashed into pieces with a bang, like the broken heart of a king. And Anshen's black bean soup was scattered all over the place, like the scattered soul of a king.

"Grandfather...grandfather? Are you pretending to be asleep?..."

Shirott fell in front of his grandfather, his voice stuttering. He stretched out his hand tremblingly, probing for the end of his grandfather's nose, and quickly withdrew like an electric shock, leaving only a whisper in his mouth.

"Grandfather, wake up, wake up!...Open your eyes, take a look, it's me! It's me, my grandson, Sirius, the grandson you love the most!...you Don't go to sleep, I beg you...I never beg, I beg you this time!...Please! Look at my grandson again!..."

As he spoke, the king's eyes gradually filled with tears. The tears overflowed from the corners of his eyes, and left them down the corners of his eyes, turning into two lines of silent tears. The entire tent was dead silent, only the king's painful and desperate plea.

"Please..."

The high priest lay quietly on the ground, unmoved by Shirot's plea. Facing the grandson he loves the most, he has never been so cold, nor so hard-hearted... He just closed his eyes, with the brightest smile, into the eyes of the king. This was his last laugh, a proud laugh for his grandson, in a dying dream.

"Please..."

The king's voice became low and hoarse. Weeping, he lowered his body feebly and pressed his face to his grandfather's. He wanted to pass on the warm vitality to his grandfather who was close at hand, but only felt stiff and cold. At this time, it is close at hand, but it is the time when heaven and man are separated and never see each other again!

"Tick!..."

Warm tears fell on the corner of the high priest's eyes, just like his new tears. And the tears became more and more, more and more dense, and finally connected into a line, connecting the two people who were separated from life and death. Shirot couldn't bear it any longer, like a desperate and powerless child, crying "woohoo".

"Woooo!...Grandfather...don't...don't leave me...you promised me...you promised me!...you don't mean anything..."

Memories of the past flooded into my mind one after another. The encouragement of my grandfather when I was young, the teaching of my grandfather when I was young, the expectation of my grandfather when I was young, and the love that has never changed!

He knows that there will never be such a person in his life who can make him rely on him like a child and accompany him through the most vulnerable time. There will never be another person in his life who will rub his head lightly, look at him tenderly, do his best, and use his own life to pave the way for him in the future...

He knew that ~www.readwn.com~ that young child would die along with the doting grandfather. From now on, on this road, there will be only him left, a king who grew up alone...

"grandfather!..."

The king's voice was already hoarse, like the cry of a raven leaving. Naxiu knelt beside her, her eyes filled with distressed tears. Bertard closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Then, he opened his eyes and waved.

"Go out!...Let Your Highness be alone and be quiet."

Everyone silently exited the tent, leaving only the lonely weeping king and a corpse with a cold smile. The cloth door of the big tent slowly closed, and no one could see the scene inside.

"what!..."

After a while, a cry that did not sound like a human voice suddenly broke out in the tent, like a thunder before a heavy rain. Then, the thunder gradually lowered, with boundless hatred, rubbing from the tip of the teeth, turning into a cold and hoarse roar.

"Cholula... The Twelve Priests... all must die!"