Aztec Eternals

The sun was in the sky, shedding a scorching glow; the head was hanging high, dripping with drops of blood. Under the light and blood, more than 10,000 Tlaxcala prisoners were panicked and forced to gather in the center of the village. Sharp spear tips, closing in from all directions. A powerful warrior with ruthless killing intent. Even the humid air seems to be filled with the smell of death.

"Tlaxcalans! The power of the Lord God is the sun, the flame, the light! He, in the highest cloud, shines on all things on earth! And all resisters, rebels, unbelievers, evil, are A dead end!"

Piedmont held a spear and stood in front of hundreds of warriors, facing tens of thousands of terrified mothmen. He looked cold and stern, and shouted word by word in Nawa language, which is not fluent.

"Your Majesty will move you to the south of the kingdom! There, you will get new fields and new huts. You will have enough food and be blessed by the Lord God! And as long as you dare to fight and fight bravely, the humble moth people will also have The opportunity to be promoted to a samurai, or even become a noble!... Such a bright future is a gift from Your Majesty and a promise from the God of War!"

Hearing this, the Tlaxcalans were silent, with a complicated look on their faces. Most of them are accustomed to obedience, fear the force of the Mexica, and dare not expect too much. In the same way, His Highness Mexica, in the name of the God of Death, also brought them an ethereal awe.

However, when the noble cloud snake gods called for the captives to riot, there were still many young tribes who participated in confusion... The divine rule of the nobles has lasted for too long, how can it be wiped out overnight? except clean?

"Your Majesty is so kind, the Lord God is so majestic, but some people don't know how to live or die!"

Having said this, Pimmon glared angrily. He raised his spear angrily, pointed it at the wooden pole in the center, and growled.

"Yesterday, there was a group of captives, rioting and fleeing! Today, their heads are all here! Give them all to me, and take a good look!... Your Majesty is the incarnation of the **** of death. If you dare to disobey, only death will Down!"

A gust of mountain wind blew through, and more than a hundred fresh heads were swaying on the high wooden poles. Most of their faces were full of fear. Their eyes, frozen, stared at the same fearful Tlaxcala prisoner.

"Now, I'll give you a chance! Who participated in yesterday's riot? Stand up! In front of the Lord God, I will give him an honorable death!"

The cold words echoed in the field. The noisy Tlaxcala prisoners fell silent in an instant. Many people bowed their heads and dared not look at the Prepecha warriors around. In the center of the entire square, you can almost hear needles falling.

"Ha! The descendants of the cloud snake, are they so cowardly? Ha! It's like a grass rat in the mud, only hiding in the crevices and shivering!...Bah! What noble snakes? They eat grass. Vile tick!"

"Ah! Damn it!"

Hearing such humiliation, a young noble warrior could no longer bear it. He shouted loudly, stood up abruptly, and strode out from the hidden crowd.

"Damn Western barbarians! The descendants of the cloud snake are born noble! Even if I die, I will make your humiliation pay the price of blood!"

"Okay! As expected of the noble race of the Tlaxcalans, a real warrior! ... Who else? Is this the only warrior among the Tlaxcalans? If it is now, you dare not stand up, Then prepare to go thousands of miles away and become a moth people farming!"

"And me! Cholulabang, noble anaconda!"

Inspired by this, another sturdy man jumped out of the crowd. His movements are agile, and even with his bare hands, he carries the might of tigers and tigers, clearly a well-trained warrior.

"Let me be like a moth, farming for the Aztecs, my old enemy, why don't I die here and return my soul to the kingdom of God!"

"Okay! What a dahlia-like warrior! Who else?"

"I! Mountaintop City, noble flower python!"

"I! Mizutani Castle, noble viper!..."

Soon, eight or nine young noble warriors, no longer hiding their identities, walked out from among the tens of thousands of young and strong captives. Each of them has the blood of divinity, and among the Tlaxcalans who revere the noble species, they have a natural appeal.

"Okay, very good! What an admirable warrior!"

Pimen nodded with respect. He looked around at the thousands of captives, waiting patiently.

"Is there any more? Are there any noble descendants of cloud snakes, and are there real brave warriors?"

There are always very few shouts that are not afraid of death. Soon, the field was quiet again. The captives kept their mouths shut and looked nervous as they watched more than a dozen noble warriors stand out, waiting for the splendid and doomed end.

"Then, the Lord God bears witness!"

Pimmon stretched out his hand and clenched the sun talisman around his neck. With a serious expression, he bowed slightly to the warrior facing him.

"This is a battle of reverence, a battle dedicated to the gods! The soul goes to the kingdom of God, death is not the end, the glory belongs to the dead!"

"Give them a spear each! ... Then, kill them!"

The holy battle begins soon, fierce, brutal and short. A dozen Tlaxcala nobles fought hard, roaring loudly, and were again overwhelmed by the forest of spears. But within a quarter of an hour, more than a dozen wooden poles stood up, hanging their heads with their eyes open.

"This is a sacred battle! The supreme Lord God will guide the souls of those who died in battle, and let them enjoy the beauty forever!"

Pymen dropped the broken spear, carried the **** hatchet, and prayed aloud. Then, he looked at the dark-looking captives and shouted in a deep voice.

"All the noble descendants of cloud snakes stood up bravely and died here! And the rest are not worthy of being snake descendants!"

"..."

No one responded, no one dared to stand up again. At this moment, it was as if a heavy hammer fell, smashing into the hearts of the captives, smashing the last remnant.

Pimont, holding a hatchet, looked around. He felt the spirit of the captives, and always felt that there was still something missing. What's wrong?

"More than 10,000 prisoners were executed, and more than 100 people were executed... How can the majesty of the Lord God be carved into the bone marrow and be remembered by everyone?"

Pi Meng's eyes slammed, UU reading www.uukanshu.com thought for a moment, and then pronounced the sentence again.

"The noble warriors who stood up just now are from seven migratory brigades, totaling a thousand people!"

Tens of thousands of prisoners were escorted south, and naturally they were divided into many teams. Some of these teams are tribal remnants, some are in-law groups, and some are self-organized, ranging from dozens to hundreds.

In this era, with the management ability of the tribal warriors, it is impossible to go deep and understand all of them. In fact, the number of people in each team, and even the leaders of each team, may not be clear.

"The alliance has long had a military order to hide the noble race of the gods, and conspire to rebel, all sacrificed and executed!"

Hearing this, the old Chiwako, who was on the sidelines, shuddered and shivered. He smelled the strong smell of blood, which was an omen of death, so clear.

"Go, Prepecha's eagles! Arrest all of Ding Zhuang, more than a thousand people, from these seven teams!"

Pi Meng's expression was cold and hard, and he swung the copper axe vigorously. Scarlet blood beads splattered from the axe blade and penetrated into the heart.

"Let them identify each other, report the noble among the tens of thousands of captives, and expose Ding Zhuang who participated in the riot! Exposing one Ding Zhuang is worth one life, and reporting one noble is worth ten people's lives! ... When the time is up, the remaining All the people below will sacrifice to the Lord God, and none of them should be spared!"

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