Aztec Eternals

The approaching heat wave hit with thick smoke, and the flag of Marshal Tarasco was quickly smoked gray, like a rapidly falling battle.

Under the flag, the head of the navy, Ospai, was also shocked. He stared wide-eyed, staring at the fire in front of him in a trance, and fell into a brief sluggishness in fear. After a while, the senior commander's self-control allowed him to quickly regain his composure.

Afterwards, the "crocodile" aristocrat looked at the battle situation with a cold heart.

The main force of Tarasco's big ships came to a chaotic standstill. Without stopping, the Mexica kept firing flashing rockets, creating roaring fires, and igniting the vital boat! During the moment when he was stunned and stunned, dozens of large boats lost the ability to fight. The surrounding warriors were all panicked, officers at all levels were counting on the flagship's response, time cannot wait!

Looking at the scene in front of him, Ospai's expression changed rapidly. Facing the fear of the unknown, he hesitated for a few breaths, and once wanted to escape eastward. But after a few breaths, he remembered the consequences of retreating, and the difficulty of escaping against the current. Here and now, there is death but no life!

After a moment of weighing, the "crocodile" noble suppressed the deep-seated fear, and his brave nature finally prevailed. He suddenly became ruthless, bit his lip hard, and roared loudly amidst the stinging pain and the smell of blood.

"I am a descendant of the gods, with the blood of the original crocodile, and even the power of the gods cannot harm me!"

The supreme commander's roar echoed on the lake, inspiring the terrified warriors around. Then, he looked at the brave general Kurucha beside him.

"Herring, beat the drums for me! Order the whole army to move forward and continue to charge!"

Kurucha nodded fiercely, beating the drums that shook the sky. The "crocodile" noble personally waved the battle flag, twirling and pointing forward.

"Rush! Rush up! Rush up and fight hand-to-hand! They won't be able to fire rockets again!"

The shocking drums sounded, and the flag of the huge crocodile fluttered. Ospai looked around again. Around his flagship, the hundreds of large boats on the inside gradually resumed command, while the hundreds of large boats on the outside were still in chaos. And in front of him, nearly a hundred large boats were blazing, turning into dazzling huge torches. Behind him, the noble Chapala Feather was still terrified, standing at the bow of the ship sluggishly.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." The "crocodile" aristocrat had no time to wait, he sternly ordered to the nearest personal guard.

"Quick! Get on the boat quickly, go find Chapala's feathers, let him gather the chaotic fleet, and quickly follow me to attack. Tell him that the main force of the navy is still there, and we still have a chance to win!"

Afterwards, the corner of Ospai's mouth was bleeding like a ferocious crocodile, roaring furiously.

"Brave warriors, charge with me!"

The commander's battle flag pointed forward, the sound of the trumpet was shrill, and the drums roared. The Tarasco flagship moved slowly, avoiding the burning forward, and then accelerated suddenly. The marshal's warship moved forward bravely, and personally led more than a hundred large boats that were motivated, and resolutely rushed towards the enemy fleet not far away.

Looking at the rapidly recovering enemy flagship and the hundreds of large boats charging ferociously, Xiulot showed appreciation and praised loudly.

"What a brave crocodile!"

Immediately afterwards, the young commander on the altar waved the command flag again, and the longbow warriors in the rear immediately adjusted their direction, and the rockets all over the sky shot at the attacking fleet. After a few breaths, the rocket roared and fell into the scattered enemy fleet, and more than a dozen charging boats were ignited.

A long wind blows, blowing away the rising smoke and making the vision clear. Tarasco's flagship paused for a moment, then adjusted its direction, heading straight for the flag of the Mexica coach.

Seeing the suddenly approaching enemy fleet, Xiulot remained unmoved. He continued to command the rear and shoot steadily. The figure of the young commander stood under the banner and became the focus of the entire battlefield.

Looking at the flagship of the enemy navy, Bertard's eyes froze. He stepped forward and raised his longbow. The guard next to him lit the paper shell of the rocket and handed it over quickly. The samurai commander turned sideways, put an arrow on his bow, pulled it to full capacity, and then shot quickly. The heavy rocket flickered on and off, flew a full distance of sixty or seventy steps, accurately nailed to the wooden shed of the enemy ship, and then exploded loudly.

The ship of Ospai suddenly caught fire, and the family warriors accompanying the ship showed panic and wanted to put out the fire. The "crocodile" nobleman blushed, strode forward, and pushed the burning wooden shed into the lake. Then, holding the shield high in his hand, he shouted sharply.

"Go rowing! Don't stop! Follow me!"

After giving the order, Ospai stared wide-eyed, staring at the enemy's flagship right in front of him. This is the hope of a comeback! Then, with his eyes wide open, he fixed his eyes on the gorgeous figure under the banner of the coach, and roared in a deep voice.

"Guard, cover with a shield! Herring, bring my longbow, and you too!"

Under the banner of Hei Lang, Bertard was about to launch the rocket again when his face suddenly changed. With a long distance of fifty or sixty steps, the shield on the enemy's flagship suddenly lowered, revealing a rough and strong adult warrior. He was holding a Mexica longbow in his hand, and he had already drawn it steadily, and the copper arrow facing him was shining coldly. Behind him, another fierce warrior stood sideways, also raising his bow.

Seeing this, the warrior commander dropped his longbow without hesitation, and threw himself to the side.

With a smile on his face, Xiulot looked at the good battlefield and thought about the outflanking of the two wings. Immediately, a pair of strong arms came around, and the boy's back was suddenly stressed, and at the moment when it was difficult to react, he was forcibly thrown down.

"Hoo!" A sharp arrow whizzed past Xiulot, awakening his long-lasting memories. Then there was another sound of "咻咻", a sharp arrow struck, followed by the sound of "tearing" and cutting through the leather armor, and the sound of "噗嗤" piercing into the flesh. Then, the sound of hurried footsteps boarded the high platform of the coach, and several personal guards tightly covered the front, followed by two "tackling" sounds of sharp arrows entering the shield.

Seeing the enemy's shield formation completely blocking his view, Ospai lowered his longbow regretfully. He and Kurucha shot one after another. The four arrows that came out of nowhere only wounded the tall warrior who sacrificed his life for the Savior.

Then, he recalled the appearance and figure of the tall warrior, feeling inexplicably familiar. Isn't that the sharp shooter who he chased for half a day and was determined to earn under his command? Then, he thought of the enemy's commander, that inexplicably familiar middle-sized figure, with a faintly handsome youthful face under the feather crown. Marshal Mexica personally investigated? !

Suddenly, the "crocodile" nobleman was shocked. He sighed, stomped his feet hard, regretful in his heart.

"It's you! It turned out to be you! That day turned out to be you!!!"

Under the protection of his personal guards, Shulot struggled to get up from the ground. He smelled the smell of blood in the air, and nervously sniffed at Bertard. The warrior commander was in severe pain all over his body, lying on his side and unable to move. He opened his eyes wide, saw the young man's concerned expression, and smiled in pain.

"Your Highness, continue to command the rear! I can't die!"

Xiulot seemed to have never heard of it. He searched carefully on the samurai leader, and finally found that the arrow was hit on the back, only two inches away from the neck. The young commander breathed a sigh of relief, nodded to the loyal warrior commander, and then looked at the personal guard.

"Send the Sacred Eagle warrior commander to the stern, so he can be healed! Be careful, take it easy!"

Then, Shulot stood up again, looking at the battle not far away through the gap in the shield. Nearly a hundred enemy fleets charged fiercely all the way, and came within 40 steps of the flagship to engage the frontmost boat Mexica. Many Tarasco galleons came with flames, burning and crashing.

The loud noise of "bang bang" continued to sound, and dozens of large boats crashed into a ball. The warriors of Tarasco leapt at the enemy ship surrounded by flames without waiting. Wielding copper spears and wooden shields, they collided head-on with the Mexica warriors wielding battle sticks and rattan shields, and they fought bloody together.

It takes time for a rocket to ignite. In the face of a resolutely assaulting enemy, it will not be possible to launch again after only three rounds. The young commander looked around, and on the lake ahead, more and more large boats collided, and the warriors on both sides fought into a complete mess!

There was a loud "boom", and the two large boats collided violently, shaking at a large angle. Several samurai on each side were unable to stand steadily, and "thumped" into the water. Afterwards, the captains of the two ships roared loudly in different languages, and fought first.

A Mexica warrior had just discarded his longbow and held his baton, when a spear stabbed him head-on. He didn't have time to pick up the shield, so he had to dodge sideways, raise his stick to block, and his center of gravity quickly lost balance. At this moment, another spear slanted towards him. The Mexica warrior heard the wind, turned his head to see it out of the corner of his eye, but had no time to move. In an instant, his side suddenly felt cold, and he lost his strength in an instant.

The samurai of Tarasco succeeded with one blow, and his eyes were excited. He stirred the copper spear vigorously, breaking the soft internal organs, and then pulled out vigorously, bringing up a pool of hot blood. He looked at the fallen enemy warrior and grinned triumphantly, but a battle stick came quietly from behind him. Life and death are only in an instant, and there is no way to react! The baton mercilessly sliced ​​through the side of the neck, and the sharp obsidian cut through the skin and directly severed the left carotid artery.

"Chi Chi", the blood suddenly flew, splashing more than one meter away, spraying the senior warrior Nekali behind him all over his head and face. Nekali immediately squatted down quickly, raised the shield with his left hand to be on guard, and quickly wiped his cheek with his sleeve with his right hand. Then, he stood up vigilantly, and took a sip of the warm liquid that splashed into his mouth.

"Hey, damn the believers of alien gods, the blood is so choking!"

Nekali looked around angrily, his pupils shrank sharply. The Tarasco warrior just now has fallen, but the three coordinated militia spears have already stabbed head-on. It was difficult to dodge on the narrow big boat. He used his shield to resist several times in a row, and was finally forced to retreat to the stern. Then, roaring and throwing his baton, he knocked down a young militiaman with a bang, and jumped into the lake helplessly.

The young militiaman Wezti's eyes were red, and he continued to move forward, stabbing the Mexica warrior who was struggling and swimming far away in the lake to death. There was a pair of calloused hands behind him, pulling him back violently.

"Weizti, you idiot! What time is it now, and you still want to fight around!"

The old militiaman Chihuaco scolded angrily, his wrinkled old face trembling. Afterwards, the old militiaman squatted down and quickly checked the downed young militiaman.

The roaring batons just now attacked, and the young militiamen had neither shields nor cotton armor, nor did they know how to block them with unimportant arms. The baton hit his chest, and the sharp piece cut his chest and neck as well. The unstoppable flow of blood rushed, and instantly filled the hands of the old militiamen.

Chivako shuddered, quickly took out the herbal bag, and took a deep breath. Then, he stood up, managed to regain his composure, and looked left and right on the lake where they were fighting.

Terrible rockets were still attacking in the sky, turning into terrifying fire demons several meters above the water surface, igniting the large boats behind one by one. And in the rear of the burning, the kingdom's navy is still in chaos. The boats ran around like headless flies, fighting with the Mexica boats indiscriminately. Some of the big boats were spinning in place, some collided with each other, and some of them seemed to be turning around?

The old militiamen looked forward again, and there was the very center of the fighting. Hundreds of large boats collided with each other, and the warriors shouted the names of the gods to fight together. Then, like pumpkins harvested in autumn, the old men tumbled and fell down in clusters, or like overripe kidney beans, their bodies split one after another, and the lake surface was full of spreading bright red. There are only two flags of the coach, which are almost close together, standing upright like corn stalks.

Chivako shuddered again, and hurriedly took another mouthful of the herbal bag.

Behind him, Weiztiu stabbed the warrior in the water twice. It's a pity that the martial arts is not enough, and he missed at all. It wasn't until he saw that the other party had swam far away that he came back to his senses, looked at the militiaman who fell to the ground, and asked eagerly.

"Chivaco, can he still be saved?"

"Save the fart! You can't survive. Take care of yourself first!"

The old militia continued to search on the lake. He shouted in succession, trembling in his hoarse voice.

"Wood, take a closer look! The samurai masters leading the team on the boat are almost dead, and now they are beating farts! The masters behind did not keep up. There are too many people in the Mexica. This battle must not be won! .Hurry up, call the other woods, and look for the nearest boat together. If you wait any longer, you will die!"

Hearing the word "death", Wei Zi made a shiver, and hurriedly greeted the left and right. Five spear militiamen came from left and right. They are either sober or timid, but they can still hear the greeting. The other militiamen in the same village were still fighting with red eyes under the leadership of the warriors, but they could not hear anything. Two Mexica warriors were attracted by the shouts, but were blocked by several spears clustered at the stern of the boat, unable to approach for a while.

"Yes, that's there! It's the nearest place, let's swim to that boat!" The old militiaman Chihuaco's eyes suddenly lit up, and he pointed with his fingers more than 20 steps away. A lone boat floated on the water, with the corpse of a Mexica militia lying on it.

The young Wezti stared, seeing that the hundreds of small boats on both sides were still strangling together, and some people fell into the water howling miserably from time to time. Once the boats of the two sides met on the water, the militiamen immediately fought brutally until all the people in the boat were killed. Many unmanned boats floated on the lake, spreading bright red along the way. After looking at it for a while, Wezti finally saw the narrow and fragile boat. Seeing the red dripping from the hull, she felt uneasy.

"Chivaco, are we going to give up the stable boat and get on that wobbly boat?!"

The other militiamen turned their heads while confronting the increasing number of Mexica warriors.

"Weizti, are you stupid? The big boat is the target of the Mexica. If it's far away, it's a target, and if it's close, it's a battlefield. If you really want to escape, you can't escape quickly. Of course, you have to get on a small boat!"

"Ah, Chivaco, are we going to be deserters?!" Wezti's voice trembled, panicked.

The old militiaman snorted vigorously and stopped looking at Stupid Wood. He looked around at the militiamen around him and shouted in a low voice.

"Woods, if you want to survive, follow me later!"

Then Chivaco crouched down and groped carefully on the deck, finding two unlit rockets. He touched the round paper shell curiously. This thing is only the size of a mango. How could it become a fire demon several meters away?

The old militiaman had no time to think, and hurriedly hid a rocket in his arms. Then, he stood up, imitating the Mexica archers he had seen before, made a gesture of lighting the fire, and then suddenly threw another rocket at the confronting Mexica warriors.

"Diving! Go!" After throwing the rocket, the old militiaman jumped into the lake without stopping, and then swam desperately to the boat more than 20 steps away. The militiamen were startled for a moment, then hastily dropped the spears that were in the way, and jumped into the water one after another. There is no doubt about the water quality of the people on the lake. They are like young fish, quickly following the old man fish at the front, and heading away from the battlefield.

Seeing the rocket being thrown, several Mexica warriors showed fear and retreated hastily. They clearly know the power of burning gunpowder arrows. After a while, the rocket was motionless, not even a spark. The warriors looked at each other in blank dismay, and then at the Tarasco militiamen who were walking away at high speed, feeling ashamed and speechless for a moment.

Wezti followed Chihuaco closely, and the dog planed and pulled quickly in the water. He looked up and saw a clumsy figure still struggling and swimming in front of him, and his heart became angry again. So, the young militiaman rushed over and kicked the Mexica warrior in the water fiercely.

Sudden heavy blow, Nekali let out a cry of pain, then gulped a few mouthfuls of lake water, and was kicked to the outside.

Weizti groped his whole body, but he was so poor that he didn't even have a dagger, so he had to give up. He turned his head and saw that the old militiamen had already touched the edge of the boat, and he probably wouldn't wait for him alone. Thinking of this, he turned his head around, took a last look at the burning lake, and deeply engraved this nightmarish scene in his mind.

The calm Yurilia Lake was dyed red, and countless boats and boats floated silently like coffins. Under the coffin, there are countless floating corpses, as well as rippling and spreading blood. Fresh corpses continue to fall from the battled boats. In front of the fiercest fighting, thousands of warriors fought bravely, their roars shaking the world. And at the very center, the flagship of the navy is still beating the war drum, and the commander of the kingdom is still screaming for battle!

Seeing this intense scene, Wezti lost his mind for a moment and sighed deeply. Then he turned hastily, without pausing, and swam straight to the hope of escape.