Chapter 182 Maple Leaf and Reinforcements

The merciless rain of arrows whistled up and down the city walls, like a sharp autumn wind blowing across the battlefield. The warriors and militia on both sides were like fallen leaves in the autumn wind, withering beside the tall city walls. The withered leaves fell into the dust and mud, flowing out the nutrients in their bodies, dyeing the bluestone and loess into a deep red. So, the city wall turned into a maple tree, and the fallen leaves became maple leaves.

The sad battlefield was reflected in the eyes of the young commander, and also reflected his face as calm as a lake. On the left side of the city wall, Ottopan warriors kept climbing up, and then were driven down by the Tarasco defenders, and they could never stabilize the gap. The surrounding militias also gradually gathered, rolling logs and stones, throwing spears and bows, and throwing them down without money or life.

Soon, with a shrill conch shell, hundreds of Tarasco's warrior reinforcements rushed to the top of the city. They formed a dense and powerful gun array, stabbing alternately, and the Ottopan warriors could no longer stand. The lean warriors desperately held onto their shields and retreated from the city in a panic, with signs of disintegration.

Xiuluot's eyes fixed, carefully looking at the supporting Tarasco warriors. They had firm expressions, tightly grasped wooden shields and bronze spears, and had crocodile or turkey family crests on their leather armor. They had high combat literacy and were extremely wary of longbows.

"This should be the enemy's most elite reserve! After days of consumption, the remaining fortress garrison is no more than 10,000. If the entire army rushes forward at this time, even if another 3,000 warriors are killed or injured, the fortress can be captured in one fell swoop!"

Xiuluot hesitated in his heart. He looked around, the loyal Holy City warriors, the fanatical temple guards, and the strict spear corps. These are all his direct pillars, the core strength of the Holy City. The young commander then made up his mind and waved the flag.

"Blow the horn, retreat!"

The fierce drumbeats suddenly stopped, and the sharp conch shells finally sounded. The few moments of fighting seemed as long as a century. Hearing the trumpet, the Ottopan warriors who had been struggling to hold on retreated quickly as if they had been pardoned. They jumped off the top of the city wall, raised their shields to cover themselves, and fled to the rear without hesitation. The seriously injured who could not move were ruthlessly abandoned, along with the wooden ladders on the top of the city wall.

The Tarasco people on the top of the city wall burst into cheers. Then another round of arrows came, nailing the exposed enemy defenders to death, and the top of the city wall quickly became quiet again.

It was not until this time that Giova emerged from the corner under the city and retreated with the siege guards. As the commander of the legion, he led the team to launch a charge, but did not climb the city wall himself. He just found an angle that was difficult to shoot, and under the cover of the shield, he commanded the battle nearby.

Xiuluot waved the flag again. Dozens of small catapults were transported to the front line, and a round of burning paper fireballs were projected from a safe distance of ninety steps. The paper fireballs passed through an inaccurate trajectory, and most of them fell inside and outside the city wall, burning the buildings in the city. A few landed on the top of the city, bursting out a large ball of flame. The blazing flames ignited more than a dozen large shields, and then turned dozens of defenders into screaming torches. Billowing smoke rose immediately, and the burning sulfur gas continued to spread, covering the top of the city with toxic smoke.

Seeing the launch of the paper fireballs, the defenders of the fortress breathed a sigh of relief. In these choking smoke, it was difficult for everyone to fight, and today's siege was over. The supporting Tarasco warriors retreated to the rear again and entered the building behind the wall that could not be shot. The warriors supervising the battle crouched down and covered their faces with several layers of cotton cloth. Under their stern orders, the militia coughed and cut off the wooden ladders, and then used the sand prepared on the top of the city to put out the fire and smoke.

The retreat conch sounded again. Under the cover of thick smoke, the Ottopan warriors at the rear took away the wounded who were not seriously injured. The longbow warriors fired the last wave of feather arrows, and hundreds of shield carts fifty steps away from the city began to slowly retreat. Then came the dozen slow-moving nest carts, and the civilians pushing the carts suffered heavy casualties. Finally, the crossbowmen climbed down from the high platform one after another.

When the siege legions had evacuated one after another, Shulot looked at the top of the city again. Many small fireballs were extinguished by sand and soil. The Tarasco militia was exhausted and collapsed behind the wooden shields and earthen platforms on the top of the city.

The Tarasco people were good at building pyramids and fortifications. There were originally simple parapets on the city walls to resist the weak traditional wooden bows. For several months, under the threat of the Mexica crossbows, large wooden shields of nearly two meters were erected on the top of the city to resist arrows, and many of them could still see the shape of doors and windows.

Where there were not enough wooden shields, earthen platforms more than one meter high were piled up. These earthen platforms can be used to defend against crossbows on the one hand, and to put out fires on the other. When the Mexica paper fireballs ignited the wooden shields one after another, the Tarasco people merged the earthen platforms and wooden shields and further raised them. In fact, these simple and practical defense facilities can also defend against matchlock guns and small-caliber artillery.

"In a war that determines survival, people will give full play to their subjective initiative to build fortifications, transform equipment, and adapt to the situation of war. Especially in this world of great struggle that lasts for hundreds of years."

The young commander stared at everything on the top of the city, thinking. He never underestimated the wisdom of his ancestors. People of that time just couldn't see the direction of the future, not without experience in production and war.

In the confrontation between various forces, the advantages brought by advanced weapons can only last for a short time. The warriors will always find a way to gradually adapt to the new weapons from the mythical mind and actual equipment. The real national advantage must be based on the innovation of the system and productivity, and on the basis of strong national strength. This is also the confrontation with Europeans.

Shulot's thoughts drifted into the diffuse smoke. His gaze was as unpredictable as that of a god. When he came back to his senses, Giowa was already covered in blood and was kneeling respectfully in front of His Highness.

"Giowa, the Ottopan Legion fought well! You showed your devotion to the Lord God and proved your loyalty to the Alliance!"

The young commander showed a friendly smile, stepped forward, and lifted up the "Coyote" commander. He was very satisfied with the performance of the Ottopan Army and the "Coyote" had been completely tamed.

"I am willing to die for His Highness!" Giowa clenched his fists on his chest and bowed his head in greeting.

Xiulote nodded and asked.

"What are the casualties of Otopan's army?"

Giowa's eyes turned red, and his voice was hoarse and trembling.

"There were a thousand casualties, six hundred of them killed."

Shulot was silent for a moment and patted "Coyote" on the shoulder.

There were only three thousand warriors in Otopan's legion, and four to five hundred had been killed in battle before. Today, we attacked the city first. Under the supervision and pressure of the army, another 600 people were killed, and less than 2,000 were left. Faced with this kind of crippling injury, the Ottopan Legion could only turn to self-cultivation and would no longer be able to be used in the short term.

"Giowa, Otopan's army has a hard time attacking the city. Let's go down and recuperate first. I will let the priest of the main god hold a grand funeral for the army! In today's battle, under the suppression of bows and crossbows, the enemy's casualties will be ours. Twice. The day when the city is destroyed is not far away, and the alliance will not forget your contribution!"

Then, the young commander lowered his voice and spoke in Giowa's ear.

"I will never forget your loyalty either!"

Hearing His Highness's recognition, Giowa sighed in his heart, the Ottopan Army finally proved itself with its sacrifice. He suddenly fell to his knees and saluted solemnly again.

This time, Shulot nodded slightly without saying anything. He just stood solemnly and accepted the worship of the commander of the "Coyote" regiment.

The autumn wind in November blew wildly, and fresh maple leaves were constantly picked from the top of the fortress. The brutal siege battle came to an end, but the exhausting feint attacks continued every day. The warriors of the western city-states became a new batch of feint attack troops.

Mexica's crossbowmen used arrows more sparingly. They were getting closer and closer to the city, firing accurately, and taking away dozens of defenders every day. With the gradual and continuous loss of blood, the defenders of the Hekou Fortress became increasingly exhausted, and their morale fell to the lowest ebb. Perseverance becomes torture, and there is no hope. Marshal "Crocodile"'s flag was still flying at the top of the city, but many different emotions gradually rose in the hearts of the defenders at the top of the city.

In the blink of an eye, another two weeks have passed, November is already halfway through, and the sunny dry season has arrived. On the Leman River, the Mexica fleet finally appeared again, bringing the last batch of alliance support.

Shulot returned to the port on the north coast and launched a majestic guard of honor to welcome the new reinforcements.

This time the navy's journey was quite long, taking more than a month. Anatri first went to the capital in the lake, carrying a large amount of grain and grass to announce the news of the great victory. Then, she went north along the Tempon River to the city of Xilotepec, where she dropped off some food and picked up the promised reinforcements. Finally, she led the reinforcements southward, turned from the western city-state into the Leman River, and traveled westward here.

Annatri jumped out of the magnificent boat again with a spear in hand. Her face was much thinner, but her eyes were full of energy.

"Your Highness, two thousand western city-state warriors, three thousand Herotepec warriors, four thousand Chichimec descendants, and two months' worth of food for 20,000 people, all arrived on time!"

Shulot was slightly startled, and his face lit up with joy. After waiting for more than half a year, reinforcements from the city of Xilotepec finally arrived! Contrary to his expectation, there were two thousand warriors from the western city-states. The young commander thought in his mind and then understood.

"After the news of the victory in the Water War came out, the Northern Route Army was in great shape, and the city-states in various places finally began to add icing on the cake and increase investment!"

Thinking of this, Shulotran laughed out loud. He glanced at the newly made flag on the big boat and laughed loudly.

"Very well, the Lord God bless you, 'the source of the Leman River', my navy general! Anatri, you have worked hard all the way, go and rest!"

The female warrior saluted respectfully, then walked away without any hesitation, her head held high. She was going to the wooden castle in the north to check the warrior commander's injuries and martial arts skills.

Reinforcements landed one after another. Led by the great nobles, two thousand warriors from the western city states made a loud noise and disembarked first. These city-state warriors are the private armies of the great nobles, and their equipment and morale are maintained at a good level, but their command is not satisfactory, and they cannot be used on battlefields with huge casualties.

Shulot has already positioned himself for these city-state legions. At this time, with a sincere etiquette smile on his face, he chatted with the leading nobles for a moment, greeting each other's glorious ancestors and mentioning the ancestral friendship that they have had for generations. Then, the nobles went north to the wooden castle to attend the welcome dinner hosted by the deputy marshal.

Then, the three thousand Herotepec warriors were silent and walked off the boat in strict formation. Seeing this legion, Shulot was startled. He observed carefully that these once-familiar Otomi warriors now acted concisely and orderly, had solemn and calm faces, and had an awe-inspiring murderous look. They actually had the appearance of a strong army.

Soon, on the beach of the river bank, the legion's squad leader and the accompanying priest began to form a team. The chief and deputy commander of the regiment came together to pay homage to His Highness.

"Poet" Commander Parramo looked at His Highness, whom he had not seen for a long time, with a melancholy smile. He bowed and expressed sincere admiration.

"Your radiant Highness, you are like the sunshine at noon, bringing you scorching warmth. Your increasingly majestic demeanor is like a proudly raised condor, immersing my soul with your dark eyes. I will crawl under you. Under my wings, I praise you for your victory in flying high!”

Shulot thought for a while and confirmed that the "poet" was sincerely praising himself. He then took a step forward and patted Parramo on the shoulder affectionately.

"The new nobleman Paramo, long time no see! You are like the sacred cocoa, spreading your graceful branches and becoming wider and wider, making people happy."

The "poet"'s fat face was stunned. He spent several months idle in an important northern town, drinking wine and beauties every day, interacting with local nobles, and accepting the service of the Otomi people. Unconsciously, his once handsome and sharp lines became more rounded and his figure became much wider.

Balamo looked at His Highness' half-smiling expression, thought for a moment, and suddenly realized something. He immediately knelt down respectfully and saluted His Highness.

"Your Highness, your loyal commander Paramo has returned to his command and is willing to die for you!"

Shulot looked at it calmly for a while. Páramo looked solemn and knelt on the ground motionless. After a moment, the young commander laughed, shook the "poet's" hair, and then lifted his hands up.

"Very well, Páramo, my 'Desolate Plateau', welcome back! Who is the commander of the Otomi Army of Xilotepec?"

Paramo took a careful look at His Highness's expression and said with a smile.

"The Divine Blessing Legion has Natalie as its commander and I as its deputy commander! Natali was the first Otomi warrior to surrender, and he was also the Xilotepec prisoner you exchanged during your first negotiation. He was the first A warrior who surrendered to the Lord God and was also the most pious warrior leader, he made great achievements in the northern expedition against the Chichimek descendants!"

Hearing this, Xiuluo nodded. He looked at the young legion commander Natalie with a smile.

"The Lord God is supreme and omnipotent! He protects us and pays attention to the sacred Western Expedition. Captain Natalie, with the blessing of the Lord God, the Western Expedition will surely win! As long as you fight for God, you will gain new achievements. Honor will also build a glorious family!”

Natalie looked solemn, like a hard sculpture. Hearing His Highness's words, a sincere smile appeared on his face. Then, he held the sun amulet in front of his neck with his hand and replied piously.

"Praise the Lord God Huitzilopochtli! He has saved us, and we will fight for Him and spread His glory! The Divine Blessing Legion will devote itself to the great divine battle and dedicate His life to the Lord God until death. Hugh. His faith will spread throughout the world!”

After almost chanting, Natalie knelt down on one knee and solemnly saluted His Highness.

"Holy 'Divine Enlightenment', Chief Priest of Teotihuacan, His Highness Priest Shulot, Natalie, on behalf of the Divine Blessing Legion, respectfully greets you! We enjoy the light of Divine Blessing, and we will also serve you war!"

Seeing Natalie's pious and non-hypocritical expression, and listening to the other party's heartfelt praise, the young priest was stunned for a moment, with thousands of horses racing in his heart, and then he immediately reacted.

"Praise be to the Lord Huitzilopochtli! I pray to Him, the Most High, and praise the souls of the converts for their loyalty under the gaze of the Lord God!"