Aztec Eternals

The breeze blew through the treetops, the pines and cypresses sprouted new branches, and the long grass became more and more prosperous, enough to cover the figure. The rains in early June came as expected, and the smoke from the burning rose and died down, leaving only a black embers.

On a field of ashes, thousands of Otomi mountain people are burying their heads in farming, and large tracts of farmland have been sown. In order to guard against the attack of the dog-born, the young and strong men carried stone spears on their backs, and some of them had long slings around their waists. On a nearby hill, a small team of 20 Otomi warriors was stationed. The warriors wore gray-blue cotton armor, carried batons on their backs, and hung bone whistles for alarm around their necks. They cautiously looked to the north, from time to time, they glanced at the farming mountain people, and at the fields full of vitality.

The Otomi mountain people leaned over and busied themselves, breaking the soil with wooden and stone agricultural tools, and carefully sowing hope for the year. And when they rested for a while, the majestic Ottopan mountain city appeared at the end of their sight, standing tall in the far southern sky. The ancestral land of the mountain city has lasted forever, like a holy mountain where the gods live, entrusting the hearts of all the mountain people.

Behind the mountain people, several gurgling streams flow down from the mountains, nourishing the farmland along the way. And beside the small lake where the stream meets, there is a large Otomi village. This is sixty miles north of Ottopan Mountain City, and it is also an important northern point guarded by warriors.

Now, fifty Mexica warriors armed with longbows and two hundred Otomi warriors armed with shields and clubs are stationed together in the longhouse of the village, near a strong granary. At the firepit in the center of the village, special firewood is piled up. When the number of incoming dogs approached a thousand, the warriors would light firewood and call for reinforcements from the mountain city. The three thousand-man battalions were stationed more than a dozen miles to the south at this time, ready to attack at any time.

A figure swayed in the forest in the distance, and the warrior on the hill immediately stood up and looked around, putting the bone whistle to his lips. Soon, a small group of Otomi scouts emerged from the forest, followed by hundreds of mountain people carrying food and farm tools. The samurai on both sides shook their fists and breathed a sigh of relief. The scouts looked at the plowed fields, and then continued to guide the new mountain people to resettle in the village.

Not long ago, the priests of the mountain city issued a decree: to evacuate the mountain people on the northern border, take away all the food, and gather them in the large villages around the mountain city for farming. Then, under the escort of thousands of Otomi warriors, the priests who controlled people's hearts led northward, and quickly evacuated the villages with more than 300 people. As for the remaining small villages, they will be led by the scout warriors.

The border evacuation has lasted for a month, and today's group is probably the last of the mountain people. The remaining miniature villages have no more than a few dozen people, hiding in the mountains, and it is difficult to find them. They also don't have much in store, so it doesn't matter.

Ottopan Mountain City is more than two hundred miles away from Palms Bang. After the plundering and large-scale contraction of the dog-born, the northernmost land of more than a hundred miles has been deserted. And within a hundred miles close to the mountain city, there are patrolling scouts, garrisoned warriors, and legions ready to attack at any time.

Spring plowing is hard work, the sun has just risen when you lean down, and the sun has set when you look up. After a long night of deep sleep, it was another boring day of repetition. A new day doesn't seem to be any different. Song sparrows hovered in the sky, only seeing the plowed fields. Oh, and the hidden eyes in the mountains.

Amoxi leaned over the grass, squinted his eyes, and looked far away at the mountain people who were farming with their heads down, and the densely populated village not far away. He was dressed in the cotton armor of the Mexica, and on his head was a yellow-green cane hat, which concealed his conspicuous red hair. His gaze stayed for a long time, until another voice came from the grass.

"Amosi, have you seen the Otomi warriors on the hill? How many are there?"

"Two palms, two soles, exactly twenty people. The leader puts his hand between his necks, and it is probably a whistle that makes a beep when he blows it."

"Oh, these screaming dogs! They're not good at fighting, but they're good at barking."

Ivican let out a "bah" and popped his head up. He looked greedily at the village in the distance, then at the thousands of mountain people farming, and then stared fiercely at the young woman in scantily clad clothes, and swallowed.

"Otomi's women are much better-looking than the thin bamboo poles in the tribe. This turkey-like body looks good to give birth! Amoxi, such a big village, enough food and women. Do you want to fight? "

"Ivikan, don't worry, let me look again. We followed the Otomi scouts all the way, and we always wanted to see where they hid all the food. Girls have plenty, and food is the lifeblood of the tribe! "

Amosi watched carefully, his eyes paused on the spears carried by the mountain folk, and then he stretched out his hand and pointed in the direction of the village.

"Come on, let's go to the village and have a look."

The two red-haired warriors climbed up from the grass, as agile as a lynx, without making a single movement. Behind them, more than 20 tribal warriors also climbed up, each bowed like a hound. They carefully avoided the plowed fields, went to the back of the village, and continued to peek.

Not far away, a shallow wooden fence surrounded the village, leaving only two exits, north and south. There is a tall stone house in the center of the village, and some villagers are coming in and out, preparing a special lunch for the samurai lords. Ordinary mountain people are not so lucky, they only have two meals a day, morning and evening.

Soon, faint cooking smoke curled up, and the fragrance of corn wafted far away. A large group of warriors came out of the longhouse, carrying weapons on their backs, chatting and laughing, and sitting around the firepit to eat.

"Gray-blue cotton armor, one slap, two slaps, eight palms, Ottomi dogs."

Amosi used both hands and borrowed Ivican's palm, and finally counted two hundred with difficulty. Then, he continued to move his eyes, looking at the Mexica warrior in the center, his pupils shrank suddenly.

"Damn it, white-gold cotton armor studded with nails, a vine-wood visor, and a big bow! It's a thick-skinned Mexica warrior with ten palms!"

"What? Mexica thick-skinned warriors?! Where?. Ow!"

Ivican paled in shock. He looked along Amoxi's fingers, and couldn't help but let out a low bark. The samurai in the center of the village suddenly became alert and got up to look over here. The dog-born scouts crouched in the grass, motionless. After a while, the warriors resumed their noise and continued to eat.

Amoxi breathed a sigh of relief, then lowered his voice and cursed angrily.

"Damn it, Ivikan, hold your tongue!"

"What are you afraid of, Amoxi, no one can run faster than us! Even a big bow can't shoot at this distance."

Ivican replied with a smile. He didn't care too much about the danger, but just lowered his voice as well.

"I'm really blind, there are fifty thick-skinned warriors! How can there be so many thick-skinned warriors in the southern cactus tribe? Last time I fought against them, I shot a thick-skinned warrior with more than a dozen arrows, and he shot him like a hedgehog. Same, actually still alive and kicking, nothing happened!"

"Evikan, the padded armor of a thick-skinned warrior cannot be shot through, no matter how close! You will shoot the short part of their neck that is exposed, shoot their calves and feet, or melee hammer their heads. Of course. , These thick skins are all elites, they will deliberately cover their vital points, and they are also very powerful in melee combat, it is indeed very tricky!"

Amosi shook his head, frowned and continued to watch.

Soon, Ivican widened his eyes and looked at the granary where the peasants came in and out.

"Food, a lot of food! Amosi, the tribal brigade behind me has a hundred senior redheads and five hundred tribal fighters! How many people are there behind you?"

"I have fifty red hairs and three hundred warriors behind me. I can't compare with your 'Red Fox' tribe."

"One hundred and fifty red-haired, eight hundred soldiers, and only two hundred and five on the other side. Oh, that's enough! Do you want to fight?"

"Screw!"

Amoxi let out a harsh "Bah", and turned to glare at his friend.

"Ivican, do you have any brains? The Otomi dog is not easy to fight when defending. Now there are warriors from the cactus tribe. They are as tough as a dog with an owner. They are very tough and will not kill them." Will surrender!"

"Look at the terrain of this village again? The houses block it, the roads are narrow, and the soldiers can't spread out at all, and they can't take advantage of their numbers. The enemy still has a big bow to defend, and if we hit it, we will die! When we rush to the fence, thick The skin can shoot three rounds of a big bow; break through the fence and go in, it is another two rounds of arrows. After two more rounds of shooting, the soldiers will collapse. This village cannot be fought!"

"Well, it seems reasonable. Amoxi, your brain is really bright, but you are more like a member of our red fox tribe."

Ivican thought for a while, then looked at the mountain folk who were farming in the fields.

"Why don't the soldiers charge these mountain people? Kill them and scatter them, lure the defenders out, or grab a few good-looking women?"

"Grab a fart!"

Amosi stretched out his hand and hammered Ivican's shoulder hard.

"What's the use of killing grass-like mountain people? The grain is in the granary. If you can't beat the village, everything is useless. If you stay here for a long time, the brigade of warriors from the south will bite you. First, the Austrian dog-like The Tomis, then the Mexica warriors in dark green cotton armor, and finally the thick hide that doesn't move at all."

"By the way, last time I went deep into the south, I also encountered a few ferocious tiger heads. They should be the personal guards of the chiefs, senior red-haired cactus tribes. They wear thick skins and tiger heads, and they are very good at tracking , Chased me for fifty miles! No matter how the scout team changed directions, they couldn’t get rid of them at all. I lost several brothers and retreated to the northern border. When I contacted other tribes to ambush, they quietly disappeared.”

"A ferocious tiger head?"

Ivican frowned and muttered to himself.

"I seem to have heard the chief say that there are eagle fighters and jaguar fighters in the cactus tribe, and they are also thick-skinned?"

"The skin is as thick as a bear. Ivican, don't even think about it. All the warriors of my tribe gather here. If I break it indiscriminately and don't get any food, the chief and priest will definitely sacrifice me alive when I go back! This village will be destroyed." If we don't come down, we still"

"Swoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

Three sharp feathered arrows whizzed and shot from a distance, brushing past the heads of the dog-born scouts. The two red-haired fighters were taken aback, and they turned around, only to see that at some point, a few Mexika thick skins had already brought dozens of Otomi dogs, and quietly surrounded them from the side.

"Damn it, Ivican, it's all your barking!"

"Oh! Amosi, stop scolding. Since you can't fight, save some strength and run north! We have to notify the brigade behind!"

"Swoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

A bark came again, accompanied by loud cursing and whistling feather arrows. The two red-haired warriors bent down like hunting dogs, and escaped from the range of bows and arrows in a blink of an eye. A dozen dog-born scouts followed closely behind without stopping.

Chased by hundreds of coalition soldiers, the dog descendants ran all the way. Where the tension was intense, the dog barked again. From time to time, blood is spilled on the mountains and forests, infiltrating the fields of hope.

Luo Hua Wuhen, Mao Guo passed silently, lying flat and falling into the world of mortals~ Alas, Mao Mao poked her head, please ask for a ticket.