Aztec Eternals

Burning smoke drifts from near the water gate, bringing the unique volcanic smell of sulfur, as if communicating with the underground kingdom of the underworld. The slanted sunset sprinkled from the top of the city, shining bright and warm golden light, as if connected to the kingdom of God in the sky.

At this moment, the strong water gate suddenly fell, and the Mexica army rushed in, like a blessing from the gods, and attacked the weak west city in one fell swoop! All the defenders in the fortress are faced with an unavoidable and difficult choice: should they fight fiercely and go to the underground kingdom of the underworld, or surrender and sacrifice and go to the heavenly kingdom of God?

Chihuaco, an old militiaman, lay at the head of the city, hesitating for a long time between the Kingdom of Hades and the Kingdom of God. After a while, he finally plucked up the courage, chose not to go at all, and tried to live in the world! He took out the herbal bag that only smelled of blood, took two deep breaths again, and looked at the fighting in the city.

The fleet of Mexica rowed swiftly, moving like the wind. Dozens of large boats passed through the water gate, along the narrow boating channel, and came to the wide and deep boat mooring pool. There are also dozens of tarasco boats parked here, all unattended at this time, tied at random by the pool.

Since the water gate of the estuary fortress was blocked, the remaining Tarasco navy tried to break through several times, and escaped from many small boats, but the navy's establishment almost disappeared. As a result, the remaining small boats were neglected and fell into the eyes of some nobles.

The attacking big boat didn't stop, facing the feathered arrows that gradually reacted against the top of the city, like a pounced crocodile, it rushed fiercely into the pool, and then rushed directly to the edge of the pool!

Then, the fierce veteran Etalik took the lead and jumped from the bow. He wielded his baton proficiently, and quickly killed several enemy militiamen who were blocking him from an angle that was difficult to guard against. Then, after a brief inspection, he led his personal guards to the nearest high platform and beheaded the guarding militiamen.

After boarding the high platform, the commander of the temple guard observed the surroundings again for a while, then took out the famous "Aztec Death Whistle", and then blew it hard, making a terrifying and mournful whistle!

The sharp whistle was so terrifying, like the cry of a night ghost, and like the call of death, penetrated into the eardrums of everyone around. Amidst the terrifying whistle, the militiamen of Tarasco instantly shuddered, feeling great fear in their hearts!

This death whistle, which looks like a shrunken skeleton, is a special musical instrument of the Mexican temple guards and has always been used in sacrifices and wars. It can emit extremely high-frequency sound waves to deter enemies within tens of meters.

The temple guards who have landed one after another are well-trained and will not be affected. They were fully armed, jumped off the big boat, and quickly killed the panicked militiamen around them. Then, the guards raised their large shields and gathered in units of a hundred, while looking at the commander on the high platform.

Veteran Etalik smiled ferociously and nodded slightly.

Holding up his baton, he first faced the city wall, a little to the left and right of the western city wall. Then, he turned to the inner side of the south city and pointed towards the marshal's flag on the attic. The temple guards quickly divided into three teams, killing in three directions without stopping. Subsequent reinforcements passed through the water gate and arrived ashore continuously, following in the footsteps of the pioneers.

Soon, a total of 1,500 temple guards jumped off the big boat one after another, chanting the names of the gods and killing in different directions. These devout and fierce warriors assaulted the lanes in the city and climbed the corridors of the city wall. They swung their batons vigorously, beheading groups of militiamen blocking them to death. At the moment when the reserve team in the city is exhausted, this is an irresistible majestic force!

Behind the temple guards, "Black Wolf" Toltek stood on the bow of the ship with high spirits and bow. He led more than a thousand longbow militiamen, and the second batch rushed into the city.

As soon as Fang entered the city, the sharp-shooting young warrior looked around and frowned. He saw hundreds of Tarasco warriors rushing to support them from the city, followed by hundreds of militiamen.

Most of these warriors are plainly dressed, embroidered with turkey crests, and their expressions are full of uneasiness and solemnity. Under the order of the "Turkey" noble Kukuna, they shouted suddenly, praising the name of the moon goddess Haratana, and fought with the temple guards who broke into the city.

"Turkey" nobleman Kukuna looked worried, watching the battle situation in front of him worriedly. The top of the southern city wall has been lost, and the army is fighting fiercely on the corridor, trying to maintain it. The marshal guarded the watchtower in the city, dispatching ever thinner troops in vain. But now, the water gate in the west has suddenly fallen, and he can only rely on him to bring the remaining samurai militia to support him and die.

"The water gate has been lost, and the situation is getting more and more dangerous! The hidden back boats are now unusable. Perhaps, it's time to choose to surrender to the Mexica!"

Kukuna was dressed gorgeously, stepped up to the high platform next to him, and looked at the battle in the alleyway again. The enemy's temple guards are highly morale and very capable. The supporting samurai and militiamen can only form defensive formations. On the front line of the battle, batons beat cotton armor and spears pierced shields. The battle was temporarily stalemate, but gradually tilted towards the Mexica. Afterwards, he straightened up, looking at the situation of the enemy army at the water gate, his eyes shrank suddenly.

"Hoo!" A feathered arrow pierced the sky, and there was a piercing sound of wind, followed by a loud roar.

"Center!"

"Pfft", Kukuna's face suddenly became stiff, and then extreme pain appeared. He tried his best to open his mouth, but only let out a hissing sound of "ho ho", and countless blood foam flew out. Then, the "Turkey" nobleman stretched out his hand, tremblingly touched the throat where the arrow was inserted, trying to hold down the gushing blood, but everything was in vain!

Kukuna struggled for a few breaths, then fell obliquely, and remained motionless. Seeing the scene of the Patriarch's fall, the warriors of the family who were still fighting fiercely froze for a moment before collapsing. The warriors fled in panic, leaving only hundreds of militiamen who knelt and surrendered.

Seeing that he hit the target, "Black Wolf" Toltek nodded triumphantly. Immediately, he turned around and looked at the city head again. Hundreds of temple guards rushed up from the passages on both sides, and were fighting with more than a thousand Tarasco militiamen at the top of the city. There are dozens of samurai backbones among these militiamen, who are calling out loudly and organizing a recalcitrant gun formation.

Toltek raised his bow again, and together with the longbow militiamen beside him, they shot towards the head of the city. "Huh, huh, huh" the three rounds of feathered arrows galloped like lightning, directly shooting to death more than 20 warriors and hundreds of militiamen. Under the blow of bows and arrows from the rear, the top of the city fell into complete chaos, and Tarasco's defenders were about to fall, and they would soon be completely collapsed.

"Black Wolf" stood proud for a moment, and then shot an arrow casually, killing a militiaman who was probing. Afterwards, without stopping, he led hundreds of shooters in his personal guards, and rushed towards the flag of the enemy marshal, that is the center of glory!

The old militiaman Chihuaco shrank at the head of the city, carefully looking down the city through the gaps in the corpses. Beside him was a militia subordinate who had just been shot to death by an arrow. Seeing the young warrior leader lead the archers away, he breathed a sigh of relief, and once again summoned the six fellow villagers who were hiding on the wall.

Wezti looked left and right, and said anxiously.

"Uncle, the Mexica people on the left and right are about to kill them! There are only dozens of gentlemen left in the city, and the militiamen will not last long. Everyone will be sliced ​​into pumpkins!"

The old militiaman gave a "bah", took out a bundle of ropes from the earthen platform guarding the city, and shouted in a low voice with some vigor.

"Boys, my lords are all going to die, and now I am the biggest one! Quick, come and help me, tie this thick rope to the top of the wall, and then let it hang down from the top of the city. Those Mexica fleets patrolling the lake, all They are rushing into the city. Now is a good time to escape!"

There was a look of hope on the faces of all the people, and they bowed their heads and were busy together. As soon as everyone tied up the rope and hung down to the city, they heard a low shout.

"You weeds in the wind, you are so smart!"

Chivako's heart tightened, and he looked up at the sound. Immediately, a withered chrysanthemum-like smile appeared on his old face.

"My lord, you are here!"

In front of the militiamen at the head of the city, a young nobleman had a cold complexion and disheveled hair. He was wearing a gorgeous battle suit, covered in blood, and said in a low voice hastily.

"Old man, where is the boat I asked you to hide?! The fortress is about to fall, protect me out of the city quickly, and report to the capital!"

The old militiaman looked at the baton in the hands of the young nobleman, then at the suit of the other party, and nodded hastily.

"Sir, the boat is hidden in the reeds by the lake, and the Mexica have never found it. From this rope, it can hang down to the top of the city. There are no large patrol boats on the lake now, so we will escort you away!"

The young noble nodded slightly. He walked more than a dozen steps left and right, and loudly ordered the warriors and militiamen who were in chaos to quickly go to the passage to resist. Then, he quickly returned, grabbed the rope, and was the first to slide down from the top of the city, escaping from the doomed fortress. Then, the old militiaman slid down the second, and the sound of fighting in the city suddenly disappeared. Weiziti was the third to slide down, and the cruel blood and fighting seemed to be isolated in another world.

In this unnoticed corner, a few militiamen quickly slid down, and in front of them was the lake full of reeds. The old militiaman looked behind, lowered his head and asked softly.

"Master, is there anyone behind?"

The young nobleman gritted his teeth and said with grief and indignation.

"Father has died in battle! The honorable 'Turkey' family withered with glory, and now I am the only one left. Old man, hurry up! Let's set off quickly to the great Copper Capital!"

Hearing that the young nobleman was alone and the request to go to the copper capital, the downcast faces of the old militiamen changed slightly. When he raised his head, he was already full of respectful and submissive smiles.

"Yes, sir, the boat is in that direction!"

Without pausing, the young nobleman quickly moved forward with two militiamen. Behind him, Wezti asked in a low voice.

"Uncle, what to do with this rope?"

The old militiaman raised his head and saw a militiaman defending the city who had just discovered this passage and was falling from above the city. He hesitated for a moment, then sighed.

"Let's stay! Only one escapes behind."

Then, the old militiaman lowered his head slightly and said something quickly.

"Stupid wood, you should be more careful on the road, and keep an eye on the nobleman."

After finishing speaking, before Wezti could react, the old militiaman turned around and chased after the young nobleman.

Amidst the shouts that were gradually moving away, a group of eight people quickly came to the lake. The old militiaman dragged out a dilapidated canoe from a sunken earth hole. All boarded together, rowed hard into the wide Quetzeo Lake, and were about to flee to the south.

Outside the water gate, two swimming Mexica boats stopped abruptly. The militiamen on board looked at the lake for a while, and then quickly rowed here. The Tarasco militiamen were nervous and rowed their oars rapidly. It's a pity that the young nobles on the boat didn't know how to row a boat, so they just took up the weight in vain and didn't play any role.

Without taking dozens of steps, the two Mexica boats got closer and closer, and they were within fifty steps in a blink of an eye. The appearances on the two arks were clearly visible, and the Mexica militiamen suddenly burst into shouts of joy. The old militiamen listened attentively, only vaguely hearing titles such as "nobility" and "bounty".

Hearing this, the face of the old militiaman changed and his expression flickered. He raised his head, looked at the richly dressed nobles paddling carelessly on the boat, and then quietly flirted with Wezti. The young militiaman seemed to understand, paddling slowly, with doubts in his eyes.

"Weeds, hurry up and row the boat! The inheritance of the 'Turkey' family must not be broken here!"

Faced with the enemy's approaching pursuit, the young nobleman showed a ferocious face, and slammed Wezti's head with his hand. Weizti bowed his head in pain, and the ship swayed at the same time.

At this moment, an accident happened suddenly! The old militiaman put down his oars abruptly, and pushed hard with both hands, pushing the young noble directly off the bow and into the icy water of the lake. The young noble couldn't wait to guard against it, choked on water, and struggled desperately in the lake. The old militiaman stared coldly at the nobleman in the lake for a moment, then shouted in a low voice.

"Don't look! Go! Escape!"

Several fellow militiamen showed shock. After a short pause, they followed the order, waved their oars again, and fled to the depths of Lake Quetseo.

Behind them, two Mexica boats picked up the young nobleman who fell into the water and confirmed the identity of the other nobleman. Immediately, the militiamen on board argued loudly for this rewarding sacrifice, and no longer cared about the escaped militiamen.

The setting sun sprinkled on the lake, and it was golden. The old militiamen rowed their boats and looked longingly to the south. There is a quiet and beautiful lake area, and a prosperous and rich hometown. He didn't want to go to Tongdu and continue the hopeless battle! He wants to return to his wife and children, hide in a remote corner of the countryside, and stay away from this cruel and damning war!

Behind him, Wezti rubbed his head, which was still aching, and tried to look back into the distance. The majestic and strong estuary fortress is igniting raging flames, and there is a sky-shattering fight! The cruelty of blood and fire is gradually moving away quietly, turning into solidified blood and green bricks. And the symbol of victory and defeat is gradually becoming clear, just like the marshal's flag that crashed down on the high attic in the city!

With the fall of the "crocodile" flag, the river mouth fortress, which has never been captured for more than a hundred years, is now falling!

Ah, sorry. I drank some wine at the party last night, and I was too dizzy to write. This chapter was yesterday. Thank you, (シ__)シ. In addition, thanks to the book friends for the reminder, if you are brave enough, you can listen to the Aztec Death Whistle. This is a special deterrent instrument in sacrifices and wars, and it is very memorable.