Aztec Eternals

A strong long wind blows from the eastern sky, and the wind chimes on the high platform jingle again, like a fierce prelude to a movement.

King Suangua stood on the high platform, silently looking at the eastern sky. The summer wind in the rainy season is so dull, and the moist water vapor blows against the face, indicating that a new heavy rain is coming.

After a while, King Tarasco sighed softly. He lowered his head, stared at the longbow and copper arrow on the ground, and spoke slowly and solemnly.

"Zinjini, how are the master craftsmen doing their research? When can these Mexican longbows be imitated?"

The chief minister showed a faint smile.

"Your Majesty, I have summoned the master craftsmen in the capital city to study together for two days. According to the masters, the manufacturing technology of this longbow is not complicated. The craftsmen only need to follow the existing shape and make an approximate imitation. Before I came here, I just issued a strict order to let the craftsmen start to make, and the first copy can be made within two or three days at the earliest!"

Su Angua nodded in satisfaction. He looked at the chief minister and asked seriously.

"Zinjini, the rock fortress in the south is crumbling, and the dangers are like accumulated bird eggs! The warriors on the front line need this powerful new weapon. Can you make a thousand longbows in two weeks?!"

The chief minister thought for a moment and replied calmly.

"Your Majesty, it can't be done. It's impossible!"

Hearing this, the king widened his eyes, waiting for the chief's explanation.

"The technical difficulty of the Mexican longbow can be overcome. However, its long bow is slender and wide, and the wood is hard, so it is very labor-intensive to make! We lack skilled bowsmiths, and the initial stage of mass production will be very slow. At the same time, this long bow Bows are extremely powerful, and the arrows used must have strong shafts and neat shapes, and it is also extremely difficult to make! Also, high-quality feathers are expensive, and the gaps in high-quality wood are very large.”

Jinjinni patiently narrated one by one, regardless of Su Angua's gradually gloomy face. Finally, his voice suddenly resounded.

"Your Majesty, the most important point is that both the longbow and the feathered arrow require a lot of manpower. With the large-scale mobilization in the lake area, our manpower is almost exhausted!"

Hearing this, Su Angua's expression froze. He asked seriously.

"Tell me in detail!"

The chief minister saluted respectfully, then stretched out his right hand, counting fingers one by one.

"The Greater Patzcuaro Lake District has a total population of more than 900,000, with more than 200,000 young adults. At this time, the north and the south are at war at the same time, and the border is full of war. Two months into the war, counting the militia, the young and old have lost 30,000 to 40,000 people. The kingdom has conscripted 50,000 militiamen into the battlefield, and another 50,000 will be conscripted later. Many of the remaining young and strong are in the fiefdoms of nobles and nobles, and it is difficult to force them to be conscripted. These people can only maintain the most basic autumn harvest. Your Majesty, purely in terms of national strength , we have only three-fifths of the Mexica alliance."

Su Angua remained silent. He knew in his heart that, counting the vassals who paid tribute to the Mexica Alliance, the kingdom's national power was only half that of the huge enemy. The king pondered for a moment, then spoke slowly while listening to the priest's singing in the wind.

"The nobles are gathering together, waiting for the sacrifice ceremony of the priests. I will discuss the prophecies of the gods with the priests and elders. The gods will inevitably say that it will be pious for the nobles and nobles to contribute manpower and material resources to resist the invasion of alien god believers. The embodiment of whether or not!"

Jinjinni was startled for a moment, thought for a while, and his face changed drastically. He spoke hastily.

"Your Majesty, nobility is the foundation of a kingdom"

Su Angua waved his hand to stop him, his face was cold and hard.

"Jinjinni, I have my own sense of proportion! Can the thousands of artisans in the capital be able to select a batch to make longbows?"

The chief minister lowered his head, calculated for a moment, and then answered.

"If the maintenance of palaces and temples is stopped and the royal family's craftsmen are forced to be recruited, two or three hundred people should be able to be gathered."

Hearing this, the king frowned slightly.

"This number is too small! Another three hundred people will be recruited from the bronze weapon craftsmen, and all will be changed to making longbows and arrows."

Zinjinni was busy calculating again. Then, he hesitated to answer.

"If this is the case, the daily output should be more than 50 longbows and more than 1,000 arrows. Nearly a thousand people will be needed to cut wood, and handling chores is only a gap for copper soldiers?"

Su Angua nodded, waving his hand decisively.

"Just do it like this! The militiamen guarding the fort don't need copper soldiers. Allocate a batch of bronze tools to the craftsmen, let them improve their bow-making skills, and make them proficient as soon as possible. The warriors stepped up their supervision and rushed to work day and night. Also, urgently select warriors who are good at archery And the militia, listed directly under the royal family, give priority to longbows!"

The chief minister quickly drew abstract longbows and villains on the wooden board, marked the counting symbols, and wrote down the king's instructions.

Suangua turned around and looked at the five majestic "House of Wind" Yakata, and the sacrificial ceremony had already begun.

Under Yakata, the nobles stood in awe, silently watching the solemn and grand ceremony. In front of the Three Temples, the holy fire burned fiercely, and the low-level priests sang loudly. They smoked the smoke of the Kingdom of God from the pottery gourd, and danced wildly in a trance.

The king frowned when he smelled the breath in the wind. He looked away in disgust, and looked at the high-ranking priests with calm expressions. These old priests held sharp knives and stood at the top of the temple, welcoming the bundled Mexica sacrifices one after another. The number of sacrifices is not too much, but the sacrifice ceremony is very complicated. Each god has different preferences, corresponding to a part of the body of the sacrifice.

Su Angua looked calm, watching the blood bloom in front of the temple. His thoughts were suddenly in a trance.

"The Mexica people have always been famous for being good at offering sacrifices, and all parts of the world praise their piety. I don't know if there is a chance to see that spectacular sacrifice ceremony with my own eyes."

Thinking of this, the king felt a chill in his heart. He couldn't help raising his head, looking at the southern sky.

From the "Palace of Winds" to the southeast, four or five hundred miles away, is Sita Kwarobang. The undulating mountains and forests hinder the movement of large-scale troops, and the rivers flowing from north to south are natural marching channels. In the main channel of the river, there are dense stone castles all over the place.

The summer sun fell from the sky, illuminating the banners on the citadel. The long wind blows, and the flag flutters with distinct patterns, one-third of which are already the sun and hummingbirds.

The royal noble Iscari stood on a hill with a three-and-a-half-meter commander's banner on his back, staring firmly ahead.

Two hundred meters ahead is a small bluestone fortress. The stone fort was full of blood from fighting, scattered corpses and broken arrows. At the highest point of the watchtower is the eagle flag of the royal family of Tarasco. A jaguar warrior in a yellow armor and helmet, covered in blood, strode up to the top of the watchtower and snapped off the eagle flag. Behind him, a senior warrior in a dark green battlesuit looked solemn, bowing his head and handing over a new flag.

Then, the jaguar warrior forcefully planted the flag at the highest point. Facing the long wind, he suddenly shouted, calling the name of the main god. The banner unfurls in the wind, revealing the bright markings of the sun and the hummingbird. At this moment, seeing this exciting scene, thousands of Mexica warriors cheered loudly, praising the victory bestowed by the Lord God!

On the hill, Iscari also lowered his head, stretched out his hands to cover his protruding cheekbones, and prayed silently. Then, with a stern expression on his face and a cold light in his eyes, he calmly called the guards beside him.

"How many prisoners in this battle?"

"Two hundred Tarasco warriors and five hundred militiamen, mostly wounded."

"Not one left."

Iscari waved his hands coldly, his voice indifferent as usual. This stone fortress resisted resolutely, facing several times the enemy, powerful longbows and bombardment with stone throwing, it still held on for a full five days. When the warriors of the alliance ascended the city, more than 200 people were also killed or injured. The commander of the South Road did not intend to give any captives a chance to convert.

The personal guard bowed his head and promised, then strode away. After a while, the priests accompanying the army set up a simple altar, prayed to the supreme Lord God, and offered sacrifices. Soon, the sound of sacred chants echoed inside and outside the fortress, and thousands of warriors knelt down in front of the holy fire, feeling the comfort of their hearts and restoring their will to fight.

Iscari also knelt down and prayed. He murmured in his mouth, but his mind drifted towards the capital with the wind.

"It's halfway through July, and only one-third of Sitakwarobong has been captured. The resistance of the Tarascos is getting stronger and stronger, and the losses of the warriors are increasing. Dear King, when will you bring Arriving with the army?"

Changfeng continued on. Behind the commander of the South Road, there are continuous wooden camps one after another, until Lachikobang at the beginning of the grain road. In the mountains and forests outside the camp, there were many corpses in Tarasco costumes scattered, staining the soil under them red. Around the camp guarded by the camp, there are shallow mounds where Mexica warriors and militiamen are buried. After a moment of shouting and fighting, there will be an eternal peaceful sleep, no matter the enemy or us.

The warm sun shines down, and everyone is treated the same for hundreds of miles, but the appearance on the ground has changed. At this time, the Mexica Valley is full of lush greenery. Wildflowers bloom along the roadside, and young seedlings grow vigorously in the farmland.

Farmers carefully weed their fields and tend to corn, soybeans and squash. Occasionally, they stopped working and looked at the large group of militiamen walking along the road, the sharp stone spears in their hands, and the tall bamboo baskets behind them. This is the militia transporting food to the southern front.

When the samurai in the front row pass by, the bold farmer will ask a few words softly, asking what the Tarasco people in the west look like. The fighting two hundred miles away took place in the territory of the enemy country, and the alliance's spring plowing continued as before. To the civilians of the Alliance, the war seemed thousands of miles away, the end of the world.

The residents of the capital in the lake are obviously well-informed. They were discussing in the big market in the northern city of Tlatelolco, and the busy caravan brought the latest inaccurate news. Under the guidance of the community priests, the residents of the capital talked loudly, imagining the overwhelming battle situation, and discussing the inevitable victory.

In the king's palace, Avet sits high on the throne, wearing a majestic Chinese robe. With the latest paper tome in his hand, he was reviewing the Texcoco Lakes mobilization report. Beside the king, Gilliam stood with his hands folded, holding a pen and paper, with a solemn expression, without making a sound.

The king held all military deployments firmly in his hands. He looked at the counting symbols on the paper book, and did mental calculations quickly and accurately without the need for others to report or help. After a while, Avit nodded in satisfaction.

"The vassals everywhere are fairly honest. The Vastecs, Mixtecs, and Zapotecs have all sent the second tribute of the summer. The distant Zapotecs have done some tricks, The tribute is only two-thirds of what the alliance requires. The alliance is busy with farming and war, and it is indeed impossible to send troops to them. However, this is more like a temptation by the vassals, and cannot be tolerated at will!"

Avit thought for a moment and made a decision.

"Gilliam, dispatch 3,000 elite warriors and 500 jaguar nobles. Tell them to make a detour to Mysterk in the south, declare the strength of the alliance, and then join the ranks of the South Army in the west. At the same time, send envoys to reprimand Zapotec people, let them make up for the shortfall in the tribute in the tribute after the autumn harvest!"

Gilliam nodded and took the order, and wrote down the order. he asked in a low voice.

"Your Majesty, you will go out after the autumn harvest. If there is still a shortfall in the third tribute to the south at that time, how should we deal with it?"

The king smiled.

"Then write down the shortfall and make up for it in the New Year's tribute. If there is still a shortfall, the alliance will not raise troops now, but it will be firmly remembered, and we will count it together in the future!"

Gilliam nodded solemnly.

"Your Majesty, once the war broke out, the material consumption was like a burning mountain forest, and it disappeared piece by piece. The manpower and material resources of the alliance were all in short supply. If it weren't for the tribute from the vassals of various places, it would be difficult to maintain. Tarasco people would only be more powerful than us. difficult."

Avit nodded in agreement.

"Reported some time ago, Iscari's southern army is making good progress, and has captured the outermost circle of stone fortresses. As long as Sitacuaro is taken, the Tarascos will have no danger to defend! Shulot The Northern Route Army also managed to gain a foothold on the Leman River, pinning down a large number of northern enemies. As for how to fight in the future, it depends on his own performance."

Gilliam bowed his head.

"The South Route Army is the main force of the Western Expedition, and the North Route Army is only a partial division after all. As long as His Highness can attract reinforcements from the Chapala Lake area and maintain the pressure on Akan Baro, it will be a great achievement!"

Hearing this, Avit smiled lightly. He didn't say much, just ordered calmly.

"Gilliam, continue to send envoys to the city-states of the alliance, urging them to mobilize warriors who don't need farming as soon as possible, and rush to the north and south front lines. Before the autumn harvest, another wave of offensives will be launched! Similarly, send envoys and scouts to the major forces to test their attitude towards the alliance. Let him continue to talk about theology with the priests and elders there, and send him a batch of special tobacco and holy water!"

Hearing the name of the holy water, Gilliam's hand froze, and his expression finally changed slightly. Moments later, the intelligence officer returned to normal and continued to record in his hand.

Afterwards, Avit stood up and looked towards the mountains in the northwest through the wide doors and windows. He thought silently in his heart.

"Sholot, you won't let me down."

At this moment, in the towering pyramid sanctuary in the distant religious holy city of Cholula, Akap trembled inexplicably. He was wearing a gorgeous robe, his face was like a crown jade, and he was as graceful as a messenger of the gods. He was laughing and talking with a group of gray-haired old men.

The dense smoke floats in the sanctuary, exuding a pleasant and intoxicating strange atmosphere.

"Elder Akap, the supreme view of the gods you mentioned just now is very good, why did you stop suddenly?" A seemingly kind-hearted noble old man sat cross-legged in front of him and asked with a smile.

Akap thought for a while, and felt that everything was normal, so he talked with the same gentle smile.

"Respected leader of the priests, the sacred smoke you burn is too precious, it made me intoxicated for a while, and I completely forgot myself."

The leader of the priests laughed, then waved. Several elegantly dressed maids then stepped forward and put more precious and expensive herbs and flowers into the exquisite copper incense burner.

"Then please Elder Akap continue to forget yourself and meet the gods above all else in your dreams!"