Aztec Eternals

As the army went all the way west, the Otomi retreated one after another. Three days later, when Shulot arrived at the third mountain camp, he saw a busy construction site in front of him.

Kuluka has already occupied the camp and is directing the warriors to repair the broken fence. When the Otomi saw the vanguard warriors from a distance, they hurriedly withdrew and set fire to the camp before leaving.

Kuluka did not go after the fleeing militiamen either. He arranged for the warriors to put out the fire quickly, and then simply repaired the broken fence. Everything is in order and is indeed a veteran of engineering. Of course, the fire can be extinguished quickly because there is really nothing to burn in the camp.

"Commander Priest, when we arrived at the camp, it was empty and there was nothing left. We didn't even find a piece of moldy tortilla! In this situation, even the rats in the warehouse would starve to death and cry."

Kuluka gave a wry smile, expressing his amazement at the search ability of the Otomi people.

"No, there won't be any mice in the warehouse." Shulott looked around the warehouse and made a joke. "Because the rats were caught and eaten by the Otomi!"

The boy became more and more certain that the Otomi people were going through the most difficult time. Hunger was gnawing at them all the time, at least for Otomi's militia certainly.

After simply inspecting the camp, Xiulot asked Kuluka's vanguard to stop working and take a rest. In particular, the thousand warriors led by Barda had to accumulate strength and prepare for a surprise attack.

The young man thought for a moment, and then scattered two hundred precious Holy City jaguar fighters first, as scouts and vanguards in the forest. In military operations, the primary task is to clear the fog of war and understand enemy intelligence. The most important thing is to detect the military situation, and the most elite troops must be invested.

He ordered these elite battle groups to be careful, to form a team of ten, and to cover each other. Prioritize self-preservation, then spy on the information of the second camp, and finally search for the scattered 3,000 city-state warriors in the mountains.

Then, Olosh led the Teotihuacan warriors to simply repair the outermost fence of the camp. When Bertard's rear army arrived, Shulot ordered the four thousand pioneers to set off immediately.

The boy handed over the complicated follow-up work to the experienced samurai chief. Let him continue repairing the camp, searching for signs of friendly forces, manning Berguire's militia, stockpiling food and building food roads.

Then, Shulot commanded more than 600 guards, and Olosh's 3,000 Chinese army, followed the forward and rushed to the second camp.

The Chinese army marched westward for two days, and along the way, military sentiment gathered like water. Scouts spot signs of a large group of Otomi. Two thousand Otomi warriors and four thousand militiamen are besieging. The second camp in the west is still standing, and the number of troops in the camp is unknown.

Shulot regained the command of the forward and ordered the warriors to quickly tighten their formation and march secretly. When the sun rose to the middle, the bright sunlight once again projected onto the path in the forest, and he heard the loud and clear crowing of the eagle again. Olosh next to him translated: "The enemy's west is less than half a day away, and the specific actions are unknown."

Xiu Luote no longer hesitated, with superior forces in hand, he should not fight a chaotic night battle. He immediately summoned Barda.

"Your 1,000 warriors unloaded all their marching supplies, rested for a quarter of an hour, and then quickly rushed to the west. The jaguar warriors will guide you, don't stay, don't care about the miscellaneous soldiers, just stick to the opponent's warrior camp! Lucca's three thousand men will follow."

"Balda, you are a brave Mexica warrior, don't let me down!" Shulot looked majestically into Balda's eyes and held his hand tightly.

Balda blushed. He knelt down on one knee, let the boy be higher than himself, bowed his head and promised loudly.

Two quarters of an hour later, Barda was carrying a shield and big stick, and a thousand assault warriors set off immediately. Kuluka's three thousand warriors followed closely behind.

Shulot was sure that the Otomi people had already heard the news of the legion's westward march, and they were like rabbits who were ready to flee into the forest at the first sign of trouble.

A thousand-scale commando can hide in the mountains and forests to the greatest extent, get close enough to launch a charge, and hold down the enemy's warriors. When the follow-up 3,000 warriors arrive, the opponent can only choose to die in battle or surrender.

Olosh looked at Shulot and smiled gratifiedly. A moment later, the 3,000 warriors of the Chinese army took the dry rations and supplies of the forward march, and headed west in full armor.

Half a day later, it was evening, the sun was slanting towards the west, and the smoke was rising not far away, and the Otomi were lighting a fire to cook. According to the usual practice, two thousand samurai gathered on the safer inner side, while four thousand militiamen were scattered on the outside. Occasionally, loud eagle cries could be heard in the forest, and the militiamen outside looked into the sky, but saw nothing.

The militiamen were not in the mood to observe carefully, anyway, some sentries were arranged on the periphery. They are worrying about their daily food. The Mexica camp on the opposite side is short of food, and the Otomi people here are also short of food.

It has been two weeks since the camp was besieged, and the militiamen have dug up and searched all the wild fruits and vegetables, pikas and insects nearby. Now I can only cook hard every day, waiting for the noble warriors to give me some miscellaneous grains, adding some leaves to cook gruel, so that everyone can barely maintain it.

Under the command of the Otomi warriors, the militiamen launched several attacks, but each time they were repelled by the 300 Mexica warriors in the camp leading thousands of militiamen. The attack suffered heavy casualties, but the effect was not obvious. After the trial and some disputes, the warriors of Otomi did not go to battle in person, but simply sealed off the camp, waiting for the Mexica to break through.

There was another loud cry of an eagle. In the camp, a about thirty-year-old Mexica warrior raised his head and stared at the eastern sky. The samurai has a handsome face, a pair of melancholy eyes, but a faint smile on the corner of his mouth.

He should be the warrior captain of the camp, surrounded by several warriors beside him. The samurai were plainly dressed, with haggard and emaciated faces, with obvious signs of hunger.

"Balamo, what are you looking at? Alas, although there are many birds in the sky, we can't catch them, and we can't turn them into meat in our stomachs."

A middle-aged samurai joked, starving but seemingly in good spirits.

The melancholy warrior captain smiled slightly, and whispered poetically:

"I'm looking at the eagle. She's hiding in the sky hundreds of meters, in the clouds, and far, far away. I can't find it. But I know that in the woodland hundreds of meters away Here, you have come quietly, on the ground, among the trees, bringing the sound of death."

The warriors gathered around sighed helplessly. The captain must have been starving, so he began to say some poems that no one was interested in. At this time, no matter how many poems you read, you will not be able to enjoy a full meal.

After reading the poem, Palamo's face turned serious, and he ordered loudly: "The reinforcements have arrived! Mobilize the elite militia, and the warriors are ready to go out to fight at any time!"

The warriors looked at each other in blank dismay, then bowed their heads in obedience, and quickly mobilized the militia in the camp.

After the eagle crowed, another two quarters of an hour passed. The samurai murmured suspiciously, whether the captain had lost his mind. At this moment, groups of Mexica warriors rushed out from the forest. With their shields raised high and their batons lowered, led by the mighty Balda, they plunged into Otomi's militia group, and went straight to the warriors who were eating in the middle.

Paramo also gave an order loudly, and the gate of the camp opened wide. Surrounded by several warriors, he charged at Otomi's warriors from the other side, and three hundred emaciated Mexica warriors also charged at the same time. Behind them, there were two thousand shouting stone spear militiamen, firmly dragging the Otomi militia on the opposite side.

In the face of Balda's surprise attack, the 500 Otomi warriors on guard at the outermost perimeter quickly charged up, and the 1,500 warriors began to prepare, but were suddenly caught off guard by the 300 warriors of Paramo. Balda didn't get too entangled with the five hundred warriors who were on the attack. He dispatched 300 people to meet him, while the brigade of samurai shifted slightly, charging towards the 1,500 chaotic Otomi main force from the side.

The warriors of Mexica and Otomi quickly fought together. The commander of Otomi tried to regroup several times, but was interrupted by the charge of Barda's spearhead. The ferocious warrior roared, and when he saw a large group of Otomi warriors gathering, he led dozens of people to rush forward.

Balamo found a bargain, and brought more than a hundred warriors to follow closely behind Barda, breaking up the Otomi people one after another, preventing the opponent from forming a battle formation and separating the front and rear queues.

Militiamen from both sides also fought together. Hungry militiamen fought more gently than samurai. The militiamen of the brigade gathered in groups and then shouted to each other. They waved stone spears and wooden spears, slowly approached each other, and then pierced blood holes in the soft body of the opposite party, until one party couldn't bear it, scattered backwards, and collapsed suddenly. Another regiment of militiamen moved over to take over the fighting position, and the two sides entangled again.

The battle between the militiamen was not fierce, but because of the lack of armor, the casualties on both sides were not small. The battle lasted less than a quarter of an hour, and three or four hundred militiamen were injured on each side, and the ranks were disorganized.

The samurai on both sides killed hundreds of people each. With the efforts of Commander Otomi, the chaotic 1,500 samurai finally gradually formed three phalanxes of 500 people. One phalanx barely blocked Barda, while the other two phalanxes with a thousand warriors were preparing to encircle and concentrate their forces to quickly eat up the 300 people of Paramo.

Seeing the Otomi surrounded on all sides, the warriors of Mexica roared and prepared to fight to the death. Amidst the roar, there was a discordant and low-pitched recitation.

Paramo sighed softly. Seeing that something was wrong, he stood melancholy in the middle of the army formation, guarded by the shields of the warriors, and looked towards the sunset in the west.

"We pass fields where the corn has fallen, we pass the setting sun, we walk slowly to the finish line, needing no one to urge me. The battlefield makes me shiver and chill, for my clothes are but gauze, how can I resist, that death the coming cold"

Fortunately, powerful bows and arrows were not widely used on the battlefields of Mesoamerica. Palamo didn't have to worry, he was fired by countless bows and arrows in his poetic recitation. He waited quietly, and then there were continuous roars from the east, and the excited cheers of the Mexica warriors.

Kuluka's three thousand directly subordinate warriors finally appeared at the edge of the woodland, and then rushed towards the staggered battle formation in the middle without hesitation. The commander of Otomi slightly estimated the number of Mexica reinforcements, and sighed helplessly.

The thousand samurai surrounding Paramo moved quickly and retreated directly to the western mountains and forests. Then the sharp sound of conch shells sounded, and the other thousand Otomi warriors in the battle were shaken and gradually retreated while fighting. The battle has entered a new stage of chasing death and north.

Balamo sighed helplessly. Before he finished reading his poem, his melancholy mood disappeared suddenly, and he had no more inspiration. He had no choice but to swing his battle stick to the west, and the three hundred warriors bit the tail of the retreating Otomi and pursued him closely.

No one paid any attention to Otomi's militia for the time being. These conscripted village fighters looked at each other and fled in all directions. Before leaving, the militiamen did not forget to take as much food as possible from the camp. Next, they will certainly not return to the army of the West, but embark on a long journey home to find family members who do not know if they are still alive. If they are lucky enough to find their families, they can think about how to survive the famine winter.

The Mexica militia did not go after Otomi's militia either. Gathering in small groups, they tried to capture the armored Otomi warriors alive with crude stone spears. As long as a real warrior can be captured alive, the militiamen will be rewarded with food and cotton cloth. If they are strong and brave enough, they still have the opportunity to be promoted to the most basic young warriors, which will open up channels for class advancement. This is also the only chance for the farmers of Mexica to change their destiny!

When Kuluka's 3,000 directly subordinate warriors joined the battle, the 1,000 Otomi warriors who had retreated with difficulty quickly collapsed, and the tight formation scattered, and then they were submerged in the wave of Mexica warriors in an instant. The other thousand Otomi warriors who had retreated in an orderly manner no longer hesitated. They dropped the two hundred tails that were entangled by Paramo, threw away the heavy sticks and wooden shields, and quickly disappeared into the forest with only the short blades they carried with them.

The brilliant sunset reflects the last struggle on the battlefield. Soon, the darkness took away the afterglow of the setting sun and the slaughter in the world. The warriors in the vanguard raised the bonfire, opened the gate of the camp, and greeted the commander-in-chief of the Chinese army.

With a helmet on, Shulot calmly faced the welcoming generals.

Kuluka knelt down on one knee respectfully: "Dear priest commander, under your command, we won a brilliant victory, leaving a total of 1,200 Otomi warriors, including more than 900 prisoners. In addition, more than 600 Otomi militiamen were arrested. About 150 warriors of our army were killed and about 300 to 400 people were injured."

Xiulot smiled, expressing his satisfaction with the result of this battle. He patted Kuluka's shoulder affectionately, and lifted him off the ground with both hands.

Kuluka stood up, bowed his head to pay respects, and then reported: "Commander Priest, I just checked the rations of the Otomi warriors. They eat sweet potatoes and pumpkins that are easy to be hungry. It seems that there is no more corn tortillas to eat. "

Xiuluo nodded, as expected. He praised Kuluka for saying "really meticulous!". Then he looked at Barda next to him.

Balda stood tall, proud. In this battle, he attacked five or six times before and after, and also had seven or eight small wounds on his body. He undertook the most difficult tasks, suffered the most casualties, and achieved the greatest results. Under his assault, the Otomi people were constantly scattered and fought on their own, unable to establish an effective command at all. It has also been unable to form a formation and advance and retreat in an orderly manner.

Shulot laughed. He recalled the heroic stories in his memory, and praised loudly: "Barda, you are a true warrior, the guts of our Mexica!"

Then the boy stepped forward, took Balda's hand, and gave him an obsidian dagger inlaid with gems. Speaking of which, this dagger was one of those extra gifts given to him by Otomi envoys during the siege of Xilotepec. Now it happens to be given to Barda.

Balda happily accepted the gift and formally saluted Shulot. Then he directly pinned the exquisite dagger on his waist, and showed it to everyone carelessly.

Shulot smiled slightly, and continued to look at Baramo who was kneeling on one knee.

"You are the warrior captain of the camp? How is the current situation in the camp?"

"Yes! Dear Commander, I am the warrior captain of the camp, Baramo, and I am willing to serve you! There are currently 300 warriors in the camp, nearly 3,000 militiamen, and 3,000 people with food for five days."

Balamou raised his head, revealing a thin and handsome face.

It seems that the camp is indeed on the verge of running out of food. If there is no rescue, these warriors and militiamen will be buried here.

"Balamo, do you have any news about the first camp, Kasar?"

"The Otomi people's blockade is too tight, but judging from the strength of the attack on our camp, Commander Kasar is still holding on. He collected food from the second camp three weeks ago, and he should be able to hold on for another ten days! "

Xiuluo nodded approvingly. He is good at numbers and military affairs. He is a good talent. Immediately, he carefully looked at the warrior in front of him. Although he was neatly dressed in armor and carrying a weapon, he always looked like a poet.

"This time you went out of the camp in time and entangled Otomi's samurai brigade, and made a contribution! Do you have anything you want?"

Paramo's eyes were bright and twinkling. He looked at Shulot's priestly attire, the boy's stature, and the animal helmet covering his face. He also peeked at the respectful gestures of the generals, and finally took a last look at the army of warriors coming from behind.

"I'm a civilian warrior and I don't have a surname yet. Please give me a surname from the commander!"

Shulot's face was calm, but he was taken aback in his heart. He looked at Baramo's melancholy eyes again. This kind of poet's temperament appeared on a warrior, which seemed very special. This samurai is quick-witted and quite decisive, and he can be taken with him to observe for a while.

"You said your name was Paramo? A desolate plateau without trees?"

"Yes! The commander is knowledgeable."

The young man pondered slightly, "Palamo", the memories of the past came to mind again. After standing silently for a long time, he said with emotion:

"Your name is Rulfo! A true Mexica poet!"

I recommend "Pietro Paramo" by Juan Rulfo. In my opinion, this is a beautiful poem that erases time, overlaps spaces, and possesses an unforgettable beauty. For example, um, put two sentences: "There is wind, there is sun, and there are clouds. Above is the blue sky, and behind the sky there may be singing, perhaps the most beautiful singing... In short, there is hope. Although We are sad, but we have hope."

"... At that time there was a huge moon in the world. I looked at you, and my eyes were broken. The moonlight seeped into your face. I kept looking at this face, never tired of seeing it. This is your face. It is very soft. , softening the moonlight; your wet lips seem to contain something, reflecting the starlight; your body is transparent on the water of the moon night. Susana, Susana San Juan." And so on, it is still beautiful .