Chapter 183 Prelude
Warm sunlight fell, shining on the Divine Blessing Legion by the river, and also illuminated their solemn faces. Various sun talismans, made of gold, silver, wood, bone, and stone, shine on the necks of the warriors, like the sun god's ever-present blessing.
Shulot and Natalie prayed a few words together, and then asked the other party to take the warriors to rest. The young priest carefully looked at the Divine Blessing Legion passing by, and nodded slowly and forcefully.
Next, the last batch of reinforcements that landed by the river were the chaotic Chichimec descendants. Dozens of leaders of the Dog tribe shouted loudly, calling for different numbers of tribal warriors, gathering into crowds of varying sizes. Later, under the leadership of General Ocelot's envoy, the leaders came forward in confusion and paid tribute to His Highness one by one.
With a majestic face, Shulot received the canine headmen who were loyal to the Alliance.
Most of the canine-born chiefs only wear simple robes, their faces are weather-beaten, with traces of the wind and sun, their skin is brown and black, and they are painted with tattoos of different worships. They first held their heads high and loudly introduced the name of the tribe and their heroic achievements, trying to show their bravery and wildness that was not afraid of death. Later, when His Highness asked, they bowed their heads and responded respectfully, speaking incomplete Mexica words, and looking at the thousands of elite warriors with fear. From time to time, they will show a fleeting greed, longing for strong leather and cotton armor, longing for powerful longbows and war clubs, and also longing for shining gold and silver ornaments.
The young commander's face was calm and he observed calmly. These canine chiefs display complex traits. They were in awe of the alliance's force and were forced to join the Mexican army because of their livelihood. But in the bones of the canine descendants, they are full of greed for power and wealth, as well as contempt for life, death and order. In short, the canine descendants are fierce and untamable, fearful of power and unethical.
Shulot pondered for a moment, then waved his hand solemnly. Thousands of bodyguard warriors came waving war clubs and forced all the canine warriors to kneel down. The leaders shouted in confusion, but they did not hesitate when they knelt down. Immediately, several priests stepped forward, set up a simple altar again, ignited the terrifying blue flame, and raised unpredictable divine smoke.
Mysterious chants sounded and the priests danced wildly. The guards cut off the heads' hair and threw them into the blazing sacred fire. In the smoke, the young priest danced at the end, chanted a simple and strange language, and then announced loudly.
"The Lord God controls everything, and also determines people's life and death! Once the hair of the soul is burned out, your life is in the hands of the Lord God. Those who disobey orders will suffer divine punishment, burn with pain, and turn into ghosts that pass away in the wind. Green smoke!”
The accompanying interpreter shouted loudly, conveying the young priest's will. The leaders looked horrified, looking at the strange and unknown flames, listening to the curses of the priests of the alien gods, and a thick shadow rose in their hearts. After a while, the leaders finally burst out with cries of submission and knelt down with trembling bodies.
"The great wizard of the sun god!"
After hearing the translation, Xiuluo nodded. He beckoned again and asked the priests to use the psilocybe mushrooms they carried with them to prepare sacred mushroom water. Then, he ordered the leaders to drink it expressionlessly.
Looking at these potions with changing colors, the canine headmen trembled all over. They struggled and drank slowly with fear under the pressure of the Mexica warriors.
Within a moment, the leaders' hands and feet trembled first, and then they danced uncontrollably. They roared and called unknown names, crying and laughing on their faces. The world in front of them was strange and strange, as if the eyes of gods were watching, with irresistible power! Seeing this crazy scene, the Mexica priests were used to it, and the canine warriors were terrified.
The frenzied dancing lasted for two full moments. It wasn't until they were exhausted that the leaders fell limply, their pupils in their eyes dilated, and their minds went blank.
Only then did Shulot declare sternly again.
"The Lord God controls everything, and also determines people's life and death! When the sacred potion flows into your lungs, your life is in the hands of the Lord God. Those who disobey orders will suffer divine punishment, and their bodies will rot and die, and their souls will be swallowed up by darkness forever!"
Listening to the translator's words, the canine warriors cried out in fear and fell to the ground completely.
"The great wizard of death!"
Shulot once again looked around at the canine descendants, observing their faces. The hidden aloofness finally disappeared and turned into a heartfelt fear. The young priest nodded. The shocking effect of these rituals would not last long, but it was enough to last until the siege was over. Only under the dual control of mind and body can these canine descendants be able to withstand brutal casualties and persist longer in the battle.
Shulot finally waved his hand and asked the canine warriors to take their limp leaders to the wooden castle to rest. Then, he turned around and looked toward the river mouth fortress to the southwest. The siege there continues, but the outcome is about to be decided.
Two days later, nine thousand reinforcements boarded the navy's fleet again and headed for the siege camp outside the fortress. The mighty reinforcements passed by, attracting the gaze of the city. Under the flag of the "Crocodile", the Russian faction stood alone on the watchtower, wearing the commander's uniform and looking much older. He watched silently as the enemy's reinforcements slowly merged into the besieged camp, and chuckled sadly.
"Good, very good! The scenery here is beautiful and the river is surging. It is a good place for 'Crocodile' to return to the Kingdom of God! The glory that has been passed down for hundreds of years will end here. All the honorable nobles and brave warriors will spend all their time together. The lives of countless Mexicans were shed here!”
Behind the "crocodile" nobles, the remaining family warriors showed their determination to die. The close nobles, big and small, looked at each other, their thoughts fluctuating, and they remained silent.
The setting sun gradually falls, dyeing the sky and earth a bright red, like a sign from the gods. In the curling smoke, the two Ottomi legions stood opposite each other, both silent.
Giowa looked complicated. He looked at the fellow warriors who had surrendered to the Lord God in front of him, and at the familiar figures opposite him, and scenes from the past came to mind. Once upon a time, they fought against the Mexicans together, staining the mountains and forests with blood. Later, they parted ways, with one abandoning and betraying the other. Now they joined hands again, under the banner of Mexica, and fought bloody battles before the fortress of Tarasco. Things in the world change without reason, just like satirical and playful poetry.
Natalie looked solemn and her face was like a sculpture. He remained calm. Everything in the past no longer mattered at this time. After a moment, he took two steps forward and made a greeting.
"Praise the Lord God! Giowa of Otopan, I am very happy to meet you again here to join the sacred god war. The Lord God is supreme and omnipotent! He has saved all the confused Otomi people. We will Fight for Him and die for Him. May His faith spread throughout the world!”
Seeing Natalie's bright eyes and listening to his pious praise, Giowa opened his mouth, but was speechless for a moment. After a long while, he said the same words in an obscure voice.
“May the Lord God save all the confused Otomi people, and may His faith spread throughout the world.”
"Then, salute to you, companion of the Gods of War. Praise the Lord God!"
"Hail to you, Natalie of Herotepec, and praise the Lord God."
The conversation ends there. The two Otomi legions looked at each other for a moment again before parting ways in the camp. Perhaps due to subconscious influence, the stations of the two legions were actively separated far apart. The two sides no longer communicate, as if they are separated by a disappearing world.
When dinner began, chaos erupted among Chichimec's canine warriors like caged beasts. They howled and shouted, fought with each other with bare hands, and fiercely fought for the food provided. Between tribes, food is distributed according to strength. Within the tribe, only the strong can be fed, while the weak are doomed to starve.
Soon, the guards heard the sound and rushed over, but the canine warriors had already finished the competition and quickly assigned everything. The losers just sat down with their heads down, feeling secretly angry, but no one complained to the Mexicans. The guards looked at each other for a moment, then calmly retreated without interfering with the customs of the canine descendants.
A few hundred steps away, there was a low chant. Led by dozens of war priests, the Divine Blessing Legion performed pre-meal prayers. The warriors looked solemn, holding the amulets around their necks and chanting sincerely.
"Praise be to the Lord God Huitzilopochtli! He gives us food, and we will fight for Him! This fight will last until the death!"
The uniform chants gradually became louder and louder, gradually resounding throughout the camp and flying towards the blood-red setting sun. Hearing the familiar prayer, the Lancers also echoed. Led by a small team of priests, they also stood up solemnly and praised the power and generosity of the gods.
In the pious atmosphere, many Mexican warriors also lowered their heads, put down the food in their hands, prayed for the protection and blessing of the God of War, and prayed for survival and victory in the war. At this moment, the siege camp outside the city is surrounded by hymns, which is like the arrival of the Kingdom of God.
The loud chants floated to the city not far away. The young militiaman Weziti was dozing off and suddenly woke up from his dream. He opened his eyes, looking around nervously with a tired face, holding a spear in his hand. Beside him, the old militiaman Chihuaco opened his old eyes with the same difficulty and carefully looked at the situation under the city head.
"Uncle, what are the Mexicans screaming about? They are shooting arrows to attack the city during the day and beating gongs and drums at night. No one can get a sound sleep. Now, they don't even give you this moment of peace!"
Seeing no sign of the Mexican attack, Weitz breathed a sigh of relief. He tugged on the turban and stuffed the corners of the cotton into his ear holes, and then he felt better.
Chihuaco listened carefully. Mexica and Prepecha were very similar, and he could vaguely make out the general outline.
"They seem to be praising a very powerful god called Vizichitli. This god will bring them victory in the war!"
Amid the loud prayers, the old militiaman listened intently and shuddered. He smelled danger again.
Wezti looked at the camp below the city and suddenly saw thousands of tribal warriors who were half-clothed and howling randomly. He laughed as he looked at the tattered clothes, disorderly fights, and beast-like shouts of the tribal warriors.
"Uncle, look! Who are these people? They are even worse than the poorest family in the village!"
The old militiaman heard the sound and looked at the "beasts" carefully for a moment, then shook his head solemnly.
"This is a barbarian who is not afraid of death."
Vezti nodded in understanding. Before joining the war, he had never been more than fifty miles away from the village, and had no impression of the canine descendants in the north. Then, he looked for the core of the loudest singing, which was the warrior legion that had just arrived today.
"Uncle, look! Who are these people? Everyone has something shiny around their neck."
The old militiaman then looked at the Divine Blessing Legion chanting loudly, and after just looking at it for a while, he shuddered again.
"This is a master who is not afraid of death!"
At this point, the old militiaman looked pale. He continued to stare for a moment, then stamped his feet violently, making up his mind.
"No, stupid, this city can't be defended! We can't wait any longer! I'll go find the warrior master who fought to the death to defend the city last time, and we have to find a way to survive!"
At this point, the old militia threw the spear in his hand, looked at the other militias who were still watching blankly, and then slipped under the city wall without stopping. At the end of the last defense of the city, he performed well and was praised by several warrior masters. He vaguely remembered the residence of a young master, so he bent down and ventured quietly.
On the second day after the reinforcements arrived at the camp, Shulot sent several captured Tarasco nobles to the fortress at the mouth of the river to persuade the defenders on the top of the city to surrender.
"Those who open the gate will be rewarded!. Those who surrender with their troops will keep their identities unchanged!. Those who do not resist will be able to survive!"
Before the envoys who persuaded them to surrender could shout a few words, several feather arrows shot "咻咻" and penetrated directly from their heads, killing them on the spot.
On the top of the city wall, the fierce "crocodile" noble put down the longbow in his hand and looked fiercely at the nobles and warriors on the left and right.
"Your Majesty's reinforcements are on the way! We can still hold on for several months! Those who dare to surrender will end up like this!"
The nobles whispered in response to the marshal's words, with a gleam in their eyes.
Ospai looked around, thinking in his heart, and then continued to speak.
"The Mexica are bloodthirsty and warlike, especially keen on sacrificing noble nobles! Now it's a war of gods. Once you fall into their hands, your life or death will be decided by the other party! Whether you can live or how long you can live is all unknown. In the end, you will inevitably end up with your heart and abdomen cut open and sacrificed on the pyramid!"
Hearing this, the nobles' faces changed rapidly, and their expressions gradually showed a bit of sadness.
Seeing this, Ospai nodded slightly. He swung the obsidian dagger violently, cut his palm, and swore loudly.
"I, Ospai of the 'Crocodile' family, swear here in the presence of the three gods and ancestors! I swear to live and die with the river mouth fortress! If I can survive this battle, I will give up the glorious fiefdom of my family and share the land and population north and south of the Leman River with you!"
Hearing the oath of the "Crocodile" nobles, the nobles of all sizes were stunned. After a moment, they finally responded loudly and encouraged each other. The will to fight once again appeared on everyone's face, whether true or false.
The Mexica Legion outside the city waited for another day. This day was a rare tranquility, without resounding war drums or whistling arrows. People cherished the quiet night and made many preparations that they didn't know whether they could be used.
On the morning of the fourth day, when the sun shone again, tens of thousands of warriors walked out of the camp, and the official siege finally began!