The warm spring breeze comes from the ocean, bringing a moist and fresh breath, which refreshes people's spirits. The sun shines on the calm Lake Patzcuaro, and bright waves emerge like the smile of a god. The lake is like a huge silver mirror, reflecting the clouds in the sky, changing the unknown future.

In the sky, flocks of geese go north from time to time, singing and flying, overlooking the quiet water town. Along the lakeside, the fertile fields are already covered with verdant weeds and unknown wildflowers. Hare jumped in the barren farmland, birds perched in lonely villages. The tropical monsoon never stops, and when the people dissipate, new life comes quietly. It erases all traces of cruelty and paints a picture of natural lushness. This is the land of the lake in March, the vast and fertile soil promised by the gods.

The old militia Chiwako stood on the tall city wall of Qin Congcan, turning a blind eye to the scenery of the water town outside the city. He was wearing a samurai leather armor with a hummingbird pattern, wearing a ring-shaped soft hat unique to the Taras people, and holding a sharp bronze spear half the height of one person, showing some rare might. At this moment, with a ruthless expression on his face, he grabbed the collar of a middle-aged militiaman with his spare left hand, and repeatedly asked sharply.

"How many men are there in the Mexican army in the north?"

"A lot, as much as the corn in the field." The middle-aged militiaman was lethargic. His face was starving, thin and yellow, and his body was covered in mud, like a marmot emerging from a field.

"How many reinforcements did you have from Chapala?"

"A lot, more than pumpkin leaves in a field."

"You and the Mexicans, which one is more?"

This is a difficult question. The middle-aged militiaman stayed where he was and thought for a while with his fingers crossed before he spoke uncertainly.

"It seems... we have more? Our people have filled the field, and there is still room among the Mexicans... Yes, there are many of us! When we scattered and fled, the Mexicans were not satisfied at all, only The team that can hold on to the samurai master will not let go!"

"Damn it! Then tell me, why did you lose the first battle and spread out like cowardly ducks?! Sending letters here every three days, and wanting to come to support, but there is no shadow of the capital. Touch!"

Chiwako growled loudly. There was a trembling in his voice, and there was a deep fear in the trembling. Fear turned into anger, making him fiercely press the middle-aged militia against the city wall, staring closely at him.

The middle-aged militiaman struggled like a teal and shouted in a panic.

"The Chapalas are never afraid of dying in battle! We have been walking for a long time, and we have come from our hometown to rescue you. It's just... It's just that the priests of the Mexicans used magic, summoned the gods to come, and released a bang. Thunder! How can mortals resist the gods? Even the noble gods can't resist... I saw the big head fleeing ahead, so I ran away with it!"

Hearing the words of the middle-aged militiaman, Chiwako was stunned and let go of his hands. He recalled the fire on Lake Yuriria and the explosion of the estuary fortress, so he asked solemnly.

"The gods are coming... What is the thunder like? Is it a smoking ball?"

The middle-aged militiaman gasped. He dared not look Chiwako directly in the eyes, and tilted his head to answer.

"The militiamen of our village are at the outermost edge of the army, so they can't see it clearly. It looks like two tree-trunk-like demonic beasts, they will roar loudly, and then the thunder will fall in the army... Everyone is very scared, a lot of The samurai knelt down...then the Mexicans rushed up, shouting the name of the god...Smoke? There was a lot of smoke, balls? I don't know what balls..."

"Trunk-like evil beast... roaring... thunder... smoking..." Remember "→m." on the mobile phone for a second to provide you with wonderful \\ novel reading.

Chiwaco muttered in his mouth, trying to recall the scenes he had seen before, those longbow warriors lighting rockets, and northern barbarians throwing balls. Immediately, his cloudy eyes brightened, and he continued to question sharply.

"Does the sacred beast of the trunk need someone to command it? Then it will send out thunder?"

"It seems...there is indeed a priest of the gods, holding strange torches...a terrible evil god!"

The middle-aged militiaman tried to recall, and the nightmarish scene reappeared, and finally his body trembled violently.

"The terrifying evil god!!... The big boss has escaped, the head of the village is dead, the villagers are scattered, and my son is gone... I lost my way and fled here... I want to go back , I'm going home, my son!"

Hearing this, Chiwako's eyes darkened. He let go of his hand completely and sighed involuntarily. The old militiaman looked at his hometown outside the city. Birds rose and fell on the village, but the smoke was no longer there.

Not far behind, the newly promoted noble Puap frowned and strode forward. He grabbed the unhinged middle-aged militiaman, and slapped him in the back of the head with a half-slanted palm. The militiaman's eyes went blank and he fell limply to the ground. The noisy voice finally disappeared.

"Old Kutou, why are you so meticulous? It's annoying! The incompetent Chapalas will be defeated if they lose. Look at the solid city wall under your feet. As long as we hold here, the Mexicans can still fly in. Can't you do it?"

Facing the samurai captain, Chivaco immediately bowed his waist and lowered his pointed hat over the forked feathers on the opponent's head, which was a symbol of Tarasco's nobility.

"The great noble man, you are right! It's just that this matter is very important. The Mexicans always have new weapons that can change the outcome of the war..."

"What's the use of caring about so much? Naturally, the supreme chief is worried about important matters in the military! As samurai, we just need to obey orders and take care of what's ahead!"

"Yes, yes... Noble lord, we all obey your orders!" The old militiaman replied respectfully with a wrinkled smile on his face.

Looking at the obedient old militiaman, Puapu "Grey Earth" patted the other party's head carelessly. Then, wearing the bright costumes of the hummingbird nobles, he glanced around the city, until the hundred people in the samurai team bowed their heads and saluted, and then nodded complacently. Then, he summoned the samurai cronies behind him and asked loudly.

"What have the Turks barbarians done recently?"

The samurai cronies bowed their heads in reply.

"Master, the barbarians are quite honest. But it's not a big deal to tie up a few ordinary businessmen, kidnap a dozen civilian women, and then kill a few people in a clan fight."

Puap nodded and replied casually.

"As long as it doesn't involve nobles and a few civilians die, it doesn't matter. Anyway, the food in the city is not going to be distributed to them. These messy tribes have hatred for each other, and it doesn't matter if they fight, but don't let people die. You still have to shoot down, Otherwise, I won't be able to explain to the chief!"

Hearing this, the cronies understood and complimented with a smile.

"That is, the master is a big man who can speak in front of the chief!"

Puapu laughed and continued to speak proudly.

"Our gray earth family has served the supreme chief for generations, and now there are five generations!"

At this moment, another trusted samurai came hurriedly and said in a loud voice.

"My lord, the Turks tribe's militia heard that the North was defeated, and they made a noise again! They launched a few representatives and asked the West to return home!"

His head was swept away, Puap's face sank, and he let out a sneer.

"Stupid barbarian! After entering the city and wanting to escape, how can there be such a good thing?! At this time, even the nobles can't get out!"

Then, the newly promoted nobles held the bronze spear in their handshake, with a fierce light in their eyes.

"These barbarians still need to be cleaned up. Come with me, choose two that have no basis, and they are too fierce, and kill the sacrificial flag directly! Well, the chief ordered, we will go get some drinks, cakes, cotton cloth women, and go to the leaders. Calm down."

Speaking of which, Puap "Puap" made a forceful "Bah" and shouted in a low voice.

"Damn, the nobles are honest, but the barbarians are making trouble in the capital, the world has really changed!"

The new nobles kept talking, and the expressions on their faces changed. After several months of seeing and hearing, he can see it clearly. The unprecedented war has disrupted the world. Only the sharp weapons in the hands and the warriors who follow behind are the foundation of standing! As for the god-descendant nobles and the century-old bloodlines, they are all mortal in the war, and they can't escape a spear.

Figured this out, Puapu put on a smile and looked at the warriors behind him.

"Brothers, when you're done cleaning up the barbarians, come with me and go to the logistics camp to get things! When that time comes, everyone will be happy and have a good time!"

The warriors who followed burst into laughter and clapped their promises. They clenched the weapons in their hands as if they had everything they wanted.

"Old Kutou, are you going?"

Puap turned to ask Kuluka.

"Master noble, I will stay to guard the city wall. When I go back, I will take care of my daughter..."

The old militiaman laughed with him, and the wrinkles on his old face turned into a flower.

"Then you just stand by the wall and watch the movement outside the city... You old wood, last time we went to have fun together, everyone else made a beautiful woman, but you brought a little daughter!"

Puap smiled and patted Kuluka on the shoulder, rude but kind. Then, he asked with a smile to the other six people who had been included. The hooded Wizti shook his head, and the bachelor Yauli readily agreed. Half of the others stayed at the top of the city, and half followed quickly.

For the militia of the seven-man team, Puap did have a mind to win over.

These people have all seen blood and experienced wars, and they are obviously different from the strong men pulled from the city. They are extremely grouped, and for some reason, they are all dominated by old men who are not amazing. In fact, he has personally weighed it. These militiamen are scattered, and their individual martial arts are only average. But once they form a spear formation, they are quite powerful and can fight against real samurai. Among the grass-headed warriors under his command, there are only 30 out of 100 who can fight. There was a lack of samurai in the capital at this time, as was the case with most newly created squads.

The sun slanted westward, Puapu held his head high, and led the crowd away. The laughter of the samurai spread far and wide, and the commoners all retreated, and even the noble houses were silent. The old militiaman stood silently at the front of the city until sunset came and the replacement militia arrived, and he returned to his residence in the city with the remaining three militiamen.

Along the way, the bustling capital showed a dash of panic. The market is sparse and sparsely populated. Only the artisans who make weapons work day and night. Under the setting sun, the sacred "House of Wind" pyramid casts a deep black shadow, and the magnificent "House of Wind" glows with blood-colored light.

Kuluka looked at it for a moment, then lowered his head and walked straight to the civilian area in the south of the city. Except for the temples of priests, the palaces of kings, and the mansions of nobles, most of the commoners lived in simple thatched huts, even ordinary warriors.

When passing a large mansion, the old militiaman took a few more glances, and there were vague figures of several women inside. This is a stone house recently acquired by Captain Puapu, a compound that has been in and out a few times, and often calls everyone to party and drink. The original owner seems to be a large spice merchant, and now he has been executed on the charge of collaborating with the enemy, and all his property has been confiscated to supplement the military supplies.

Kuluka felt a little envious. It doesn't matter if the house looks good, the key is to be strong and spacious. If there is such a big room, everyone can live together and take care of each other, so that they can feel more at ease. He continued to walk in a hurry, and finally came to a large thatched hut, and said goodbye to the two militiamen with a smile, only Wizti followed.

This is the new house in the capital, which the captain helped to get, and it is also the home that Kuluka takes care of. The hut was dark, and the old militiaman whispered twice before hearing the movement in the corner. Then, he leaned forward and held a torch to take a picture of his daughter huddled in the corner.

"Reed, daddy called you, why didn't you make a sound?"

Little Reed lowered his head, hugged his legs, and huddled in the haystack in the corner of the room. She's only thirteen years old, oh, she's already fourteen after Chinese New Year, but she's still a little small. At this moment, the girl was mostly covered by the haystack, only showing a small head, like a thin reed. In fact, the old militiamen said they were old, but they were only in their early 40s. It was just that the peasants were exposed to the wind and the sun and worked hard all year round, making them look extraordinarily old.

Seeing that the reeds were silent, Kuluka sighed. He stepped forward and touched his daughter's head affectionately. The girl was trembling all over, she shrank in fear, looked up to see her father's face, and then relaxed a little. then. She lowered her head again and buried it in her lap, still not speaking.

The old militiaman looked at his daughter with a rare tenderness on his face. This is his biological daughter, who was finally found from the logistics camp and was almost given to the murderous Turks barbarians. The old militiaman was full of fear, and he knew what happened to those women.

"Reed, reed, I have only you now, and you have only me... Your brother is the second batch of militiamen recruited, and he has long since gone to the southeast front. The village chief who killed you is the third batch of militiamen, and he has also entered the army. The battlefield, thinking about it, is already cold. There was a fourth batch a few months ago... You are my last hope."

Kuluka muttered softly, a burst of grief in his heart. I heard from the warriors in the capital that the front line in the southeast was extremely cruel, even the nobles were dying like weeds, and the militia that was consumed could not be replenished. It was out of reach, and my son had never experienced a battle, so he probably had no hope. It's just that he didn't see the body, and there was always a thought. And the daughter, who was finally found in front of him, was his only sustenance.

The old militiaman touched his daughter's thin face again, feeling extremely distressed. He took out the tortilla from his arms and handed it to Reed. The pancake was missing a corner and had a few tooth marks on it. He only took two bites in the morning, saving most of it for his daughter. Following the samurai captain, there is still a stable source of food, unlike the commoners in the city, now it is difficult to buy even a grain of food.

Reed took the cake, and light shone in his eyes. The girl took a few bites hard, and then let out an anxious whimper. The cold biscuits were too hard, and she had too little strength, but she couldn't eat them at all.

Kuluka sighed again. He took the pancakes back, then lit a fire and boiled a pot of hot water. Then, he carefully soaked the pancake until it was not hot, and then handed it to his daughter with the pottery bowl attached.

Reed stared blankly at Daddy busy. Then, her eyes lit up again, and she lowered her head and nibbled at the cake, like a little hamster. The old militiaman looked at his daughter with a smile on his face. The hooded Wizti took two steps away, watching the old militiaman look at his daughter. He was silent, only the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

After a long time, until the reeds finished eating and retracted into the haystack again, the old militia poured a bowl of hot water and drank the remaining residue. Then, he turned around and asked with a serious expression.

"Stupid wood, your mother-in-law and child, still haven't found it?"

Wizti shook his head bleakly.

"Uncle, I can't find it."

Kuluka looked at Weizti for a while and asked softly.

"The nobleman asked you to get a woman, why don't you want to?"

Wizti stood quietly for a moment before shaking his head again.

"Uncle, I don't want to. I, I'm afraid I'll lose it again."

The old militiaman lowered his eyes and sighed deeply again. He looked at his daughter in the haystack, and then at Wizti, who was standing still, before speaking for a long time.

"Stupid wood, you lost your mother-in-law, and I lost my son, so let's make do with it! You also help me take care of the reeds."

Wezti was silent for a while, not saying anything, just nodding forcefully. After a while, he asked. First release╭ァんttps://www..cΘmヤ

"Uncle, the gentlemen are defeated, the Mexicans are coming, what shall we do in the future?"

The old militiaman turned, took off his leather armor, and hung up his pointed hat. Then, he held the spear that never left his body diagonally, and said slowly.

"Take a step, see a step. Uncle, I will always give it to you, to the reed, and find a way to live!"

While speaking, he looked at the towering Palace of Winds through the hole in the hut, with a strange look in his eyes.

In the center of the royal capital Qin Congcan, the magnificent Palace of Winds is still as majestic as in the sky, looking down on everything on the ground. The wind in the capital is urgent, and the battle situation is dangerous. The commoners were shaken by the wind and rain, the tribal militiamen were noisy, the warriors were self-respecting, the nobles stopped singing and dancing, only the priests were still singing and praying all night.

The chief minister, Zinzini, stood at the top of the palace with his hands behind his back, staring at the swaying capital, like a divine envoy who oppressed the world. The long wind blew up, blowing the old man's white hair and brushing his aged face. The chief minister felt the coldness of the night wind and did not speak for a long time, like a frozen sculpture.

In the heaven and on earth, the night in the capital is full of silence, only the singing of sacrifices. After a while, a certain corner of the capital suddenly became noisy. The faint voice came along the night wind, and the indifferent chief spoke majestically.

"Where is the seat of the Tecos tribe?"

"Yes, Chief." The guard behind him bowed and replied.

"What happened?"

"Puapu of the gray earth family dealt with the noisy Tecos militia not long ago. Now, he has led a woman with a drink and is appeasing the tribal chiefs."

"Well." The chief looked calm and nodded. Then, he changed the subject.

"I heard the news of the defeat in the north, how about the priests in the city, and how about the nobles?"

"The low-level priests held ceremonies day and night. The high-level priests had secret meetings several times, and they had no untimely thoughts. The elders called the temple guards and firmly protected the temple of the priests next to the pyramid. The nobles were all silent, and recently There was no movement."

"The Mexicans launched a war of gods, and the priests and elders did not retreat. Although they have shallow vision, there is no need to worry at this time. Let the monitoring staff focus on the nobles, especially the big nobles with many private soldiers! These cunning wolves are For those who are unfamiliar, as long as the Mexicans promise fiefs and titles, their loyalty will be scattered like leaves. If necessary, they can be dealt with decisively!"

"As ordered, Chief!" The guard bowed his head and obeyed without hesitation.

Zinzini looked north. Under the brilliance of the bright moon, the flat fields stretched to the north, an unknown danger.

"How many remnants of Chapala have gathered?" The chief's voice was a little hoarse.

"Less than a thousand militias. The Mexicas sent jaguars to disperse them, and most of the disbanded legions fled to the west."

Zinzini clenched the scepter in his hand and gritted his teeth.

"Damn it! The crocodiles are foolhardy, their feathers are flashy, and they should all be sacrificed to the gods! One of them rushed forward, the other cowardly fled, and together they ruined the northern part of the kingdom!"

Hearing the chief's anger, the guard behind him lowered his head, daring to make a sound.

"Have the remnants explained clearly what the god-given weapons used by the Mexicas are? I know the fighting strength of the Chapala Legion, and an army of 30,000 should not be so vulnerable."

The chief minister asked with a solemn expression.

"It seems to be a wooden beast several meters long~lightnovelpub.net~ can roar and emit smoke and thunder. The Chapala Legion suddenly encountered this weapon, and the morale was greatly damaged. The warriors were shaken, Mexican The men took the opportunity to charge and broke into the central army. Then, the feather marshal of the central army fled first, and then the legion completely disintegrated."

The guard explained in a low voice, not daring to add any personal opinions.

Zinzini frowned and thought for a long time. The new weapons of the Mexica emerge in an endless stream, changing the tide of battle time and time again. He didn't have any clue, he could only sigh softly.

"His Royal Highness Mexica in the north is not young, but he is a formidable opponent! . . . Have you sent the king's messenger?"

"Yes, Chief."

"Send another messenger, please be careful of the new weapons of the Mexicans. Once the Wang army returns to the division, be sure to travel lightly, and don't stay on the way!"

"Yes, Chief!"

The chief minister turned and looked into the distance to the southeast. Under the stars at night, the rolling hills are looming, like a crawling beast, silent in the chill of the wind.

"Has the situation around Patzcuaro changed?"

After a while, Zinzini asked again, his voice low and hoarse.

"Chief, there are not enough samurai patrolling, and the team carrying food is the same as before..."

The chief minister closed his eyes and did not speak. After a while, he sighed deeply.

"One step, one step. As long as the king retreats in time, there is still hope for us. The night is long, and we wait for the dawn!"

Afterwards, there were no words around, only darkness was deep. A mighty night wind passed through the top floor of the Palace of Winds and rang the hurried wind chimes. The copper bells are mournful and distant, drifting away in the vast night. Songs and sorrows at night, wandering on the garden pavilion, swaying the sacrificial bonfire, and then entering the barracks thatched hut. The night sky is cloudy and the stars are falling, but the capital is in a hurry.