The breeze blows the green fields, and comes to the rolling mountains. The trees stretched their branches and buds, covering up the traces of fighting in the forest. Under the nourishment of life, the shrubs are becoming more and more verdant. The setting sun fell on the towering stone fortresses, outlining the colorful and interlaced oil paintings, which were brown-blue masonry, black-gray fireworks, and dark red blood.

In the evening, the battlefield of the slaughter was silent. The thrown stone bullets were scattered among the stone castles, and the broken arrows penetrated deep into the soil. On the battlefield in front of the stone castle, the militiamen of the alliance and the kingdom looked numb and bowed their heads busy. They gathered the relics of the warriors on both sides and buried the bodies of their respective militiamen on the spot. The ground is full of crimson marks that even rain cannot wash away. Only the lush green grass can drown the cruel battlefield.

The curling smoke rose from the stone castles, facing each other in the mountains and forests. The light smoke passed over the garrisoned warriors, surrounded the flag of the watchtower, and then rose into the deep sky. The priests accompanying the army sang simple funeral songs and prayed for the coming of the gods to receive the departed souls.

The song is blown away in the wind, and the flag is rolled in the wind. At the top of the group of stone castles, different flags are flying. More than two-thirds of them have been replaced by the king flag of the Mexica Union, and the remaining one-third is still the eagle flag of the Tarrasco Kingdom. The stone fortress of the Eagle Flag surrounds the northwest of Appachingan, and at the center is the core of the Tarasco line of defense, the undulating high point of the two-hundred-mile mountain range, an unbreakable alpine fortress.

The golden sunset fell on the fortress on the top of the mountain, and the king's flag fluttered on the watchtower. The eagle of the royal family is spreading its wings and flying towards the western sky. King Suangua was expressionless as he stood at the top of the stone castle. He stared at the royal flag passed down from generation to generation, like a stone sculpture, letting the setting sun cast a long shadow. A few dozen steps away, the king's bodyguard, dressed in bronze helmets and leather armor, holding a bronze axe and longbow, stood guard in awe.

The light of the sky gradually dimmed, and the setting sun dyed the world red. The young king lowered his eyes and opened his mouth slowly.

"Is the replacement king flag ready?"

"Respected king, the new imitation flag has been prepared. When the night is dark, the inherited flag will be replaced." The guard behind him leaned over and replied, his voice low and firm.

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"Summon South Road Commander Queus. Let him come in a low profile, without any followers."

The king kept his voice calm. He turned around and looked towards the mountains in the southeast. In the last sunlight, the king flags of the Mexicans face each other across the air. The blood-red sun fluttered on the flag, the dark blue God of War bloomed with feathers, and the yellow-green gems shone brightly, stinging Su Angua's eyes.

The king raised his head slightly, suppressing the wetness in his eyes. The sky is vast, the mountains are majestic, and the fortress under his feet is so impregnable. The inherited royal flag stands at the top of the fortress, and has always witnessed the glory of belonging to the royal family.

From the beginning of spring ploughing last year to the spring breeze blowing this year, it has been more than nine months of fighting. The main force of the Mexica Union was firmly blocked in the mountains and forests two hundred miles away from Appachingan, and could never break through. Tens of thousands of alliance warriors stopped on the last, highest, and strongest line of defense.

Su Angua quietly recalled, countless memories of day and night flooded into his heart. The screams of fighting echoed in the sky, and the blood drowned the earth. This long southeast battle is about to come to an end, and it will usher in a bleak end in a form he did not expect.

On this intertwined front, the kingdom and the alliance have been fighting for a long time in recent years, and they have already understood each other's situation thoroughly. Tarasco Kingdom has assembled 23,000 warriors, 10,000 elite militiamen, and 50,000 ordinary militiamen. The Mexica Union mobilized a total of 45,000 warriors and more than 40,000 militias. The battle between nearly 200,000 people on both sides is a huge epic that the world has never seen before!

The entire battle is roughly divided into two phases. The first stage is the contraction of the kingdom and the advance of the alliance. From June to October last year, the Mexicans launched raids during the spring ploughing season. The warriors of the alliance use longbows, slings, rockets, and paper fireballs. With the addition of new weapons, they are going all the way. It was not until Suangwa led the royal army to arrive, and the militia and Tecos warriors from the Lake District came to support, and the enemy's offensive was gradually resisted. During these four months, the kingdom lost 5,000 warriors and 15,000 militiamen, and lost about half of its fortress group. The Alliance also lost 6,000 samurai and 8,000 militias, gaining the upper hand in casualties and advancement.

The second stage is the stalemate between the two sides and the formation of the defense line. From October of last year to March of this year, the Mexica's advance became slower and slower, until it came to a complete stop. In the face of the alpine fortress relying on the mountain, both the longbow and the sling are useless. The Mexica warrior threw a ceramic ball, sending out a roar of thunder, which once shook the hearts of the army. However, under the holy king's banner, the courage of the guards never wavered. The Bronze Axe Guard swung the battle axe, killed nearly a hundred noble battle groups, and fiercely advanced and retreated the Mexica warriors.

When the kingdom's longbowmen focused their shots, the exploding caltrops would never have the chance to be thrown into the castle. The artisans in the capital worked day and night, and within half a year, they delivered 5,000 imitation longbows to the front line. Thousands of longbowmen were scattered among the fortresses on the front line, and the crushed Mexica warriors could not lift their heads. The Alliance lost the advantage of the bow and arrow, and the kingdom's defenses became abnormally strong again. The group of stone castles occupies a favorable location and is difficult to conquer. The warriors on both sides fell in pieces between the fortresses, then cautiously contracted, and the focus of consumption gradually shifted to the fragile militia. The rain of stones and arrows obscured the sky, alternating with each other, knocking down the militiamen mercilessly.

In the past six months, the kingdom has killed another 5,000 warriors, 5,000 elite militiamen, and 13,000 lake district militiamen. The Tarrascos firmly held the last third of the fortresses, and the four thousand warriors who died were Turks reinforcements. The Union lost seven thousand Mexica warriors and twelve thousand militiamen. The losses on both sides began to be even, and the Union offensive was exhausted.

For nine months, nearly 80,000 warriors and militiamen from both sides have been devoured in the mountains and forests of Apatchingan. Whether noble nobles, fierce warriors, or ordinary militiamen, they all turned into icy corpses, long buried in the mounds of the mountains. The only trace they left was the insignificant number in the heart of the supreme commander. This tragic casualty made the hearts of the nobles on both sides turbulent, and it was difficult for the samurai to continue to attack. In the past month, the Mexicans have completely stopped the large-scale samurai siege of the city, and only carried out harassment mainly by militia, maintaining the pressure on the front line.

"There are still 40,000 warriors left in the kingdom, half of them are warriors and elite militia. There are about 50,000 people in the alliance, of which 30,000 are warriors. Apatchingan's front line has been stabilized, the two sides are evenly matched, and everyone has reached the limit. The Mexicans can't take more samurai casualties... So, I'm here!"

The young king looked up at the gloomy sky and cried out silently. He was on the front line of danger, but he never failed to live up to the glory of the royal family, proving his ability to his ancestors!

The messengers of the various states have sent good news. The holy city of Cholula accepted the treaty of conversion and turned neutral. The Tlaxcala leaders of the East, married to the royal family, have assembled tens of thousands of warriors and invaded the borders of the Mexica Confederation. The Mistec and Zapotec people in the south have shown a close attitude. These "people of the cloud" interrupted their New Year's tribute to the Alliance and formed a secret alliance with the kingdom, promising to lend a helping hand when the situation changed. The Otomi people of the North were mired in controversy and divided into two groups of dissent. The Vasteks in the northeast were dissatisfied with the oppression of the heavy tribute, and were also eager to move. Only the Totonaks farther east have not responded because of the distance.

"The general situation is about to change. As long as you stick to it for another half a year, the situation of this war will be completely changed!"

Su Angua closed her red eyes, and tears flowed silently. He stepped into the shadow of the watchtower, reached out to touch the flag of the ancestor, and quietly wiped his face with his sleeve. Then, the young king turned around, looked at the capital in the northwest, and let out a long sigh and an angry shout.

"Stupid Ospie... cowardly Penguari... Mexica's 'Death' Shulot!"

The young king whispered three names, his resentment diminished in turn, his unwilling desire continued to rise, and the darkness engulfed his heart. However, no matter how much resentment, no matter how unwilling, the outcome of this battle cannot be changed. The reinforcements were completely defeated, the food supply was almost interrupted, and the capital was under the enemy's front! In front of him, only the destined third stage, retreat quickly.

Su Angua looked at the west, watching the sunset slowly fall, watching the shadows eroding the world. It was not until the trusted guards lit the bonfire that the South Road Commander, Cueus, put on a battle uniform and hurried over.

"Dear King, I just returned from the fortress at the front, please forgive me for being late!"

Cuyus knelt down on one knee and saluted solemnly. The commander-in-chief of Nanlu was in his forties, with a resolute face. His eyes showed the vicissitudes of life, the majesty of the royal family in appearance, and the killing intent of the battlefield on his body.

"Uncle Kuiyus, no need to be more polite. You are the eagle of the royal family, with the blood of the ancestors of Taliguri. You are also the most worthy marshal of the South Road Legion!"

Suangua stepped forward and held up Cueus's body. Then, he held the opponent's arm and stared into the eyes of Commander Nanlu.

"Uncle, do you still remember the glory of the ancestors?"

Hearing his uncle's name, and looking into the king's eyes, Cueus gave a slight pause. Then, he Shen Yi nodded and answered loudly.

"Under the banner of the eagle, I will shed blood until I die!"

The king watched silently for a moment. Then, he let go of his hand, took two steps back, and disappeared in the shadow of Wanglou.

"Uncle, the Mexicans have defeated the reinforcements in Penguari. They are about to encircle the capital and cut off the food supply to Patzcuaro."

Quaius was taken aback. He opened his eyes wide and asked in a low voice.

"The 30,000 Chapala army is so vulnerable?! Your Majesty, is this news confirmed?"

Su Angua nodded slowly. The quiet voice came, but he couldn't see his changing face.

"It's a secret letter from Chief Zinzini. Outside the capital, there are no reinforcements. Apatchingan's food can last for more than a month. The news of food shortage can't be hidden for too long... This line of defense can't be defended any time soon. already."

Quius was speechless. He showed an expression of disbelief, then turned his head suddenly, and looked at the world in the west. At this moment, the setting sun has completely set, the field is full of shadows, and it is already a deep darkness.

"This line of defense can't be held anymore..." Commander Nanlu repeated unconsciously. Then, startled, he looked up at the king.

"Your Majesty, why did you summon me?..."

Su Angua was silent for a moment before speaking calmly.

"The capital is in critical condition, I must return to my division quickly to retain the last hope. The Tlaxcala people have already sent troops, as long as the capital does not fall, the glory of the ancestors will continue... Uncle, you are the eagle of the royal family, He is also the person I trust the most! Only you can take on the overall situation of the Southeast!"

Queus passed the king and looked at the flag of the watchtower. Tarrasco's eagles fly in the wind, even when night falls. After a while, he knelt down again and bowed deeply to the king.

"Under the banner of the eagle, I will shed blood until I die."

Suangua stepped out of the shadows. With a serious look, he lifted up his esteemed uncle.

"Uncle, I will leave before dawn tomorrow, with two thousand guards, three thousand pike militiamen, and five thousand warriors of the kingdom. The road back to the capital is more than four hundred miles. Don't march too fast. I need you to stay here for another fifteen days!"

Quius nodded silently. He closed his eyes, thought for a moment, and then suggested in a low voice.

"Your Majesty, you can bring more troops to preserve more vitality for the kingdom. I can hold it here!"

Su Angua shook his head calmly, he had already figured it out completely, and he didn't hesitate.

"I have taken away all the disciplined, loyal and capable warriors. Two thousand foreign mercenaries have been handed over to you to suppress six thousand Tekes warriors. These vassal warriors are scattered in the fortresses on the front line. The Sigas know it. They are not suitable to be brought into the capital. And the remaining 22,000 militia cannot operate at night and cannot keep secrets, so I will give them all to you, and give you two thousand longbows!"

"The capital is in danger. Although the chief minister has great prestige, it is difficult to integrate the nobles and high priests. If the situation is critical, I am afraid there will be changes. This time I return to the army~lightnovelpub.net~ I will re-insert the king's flag back into the 'wind' On the Palace, stabilize the morale of the military in the capital. The retreat must be quick! I can only take 10,000 elites with me. As long as these 10,000 people can return to Qin Congcan, the capital will be as stable as a mountain in the west!"

Having said this, the king stared at Queus with a burning flame in his eyes. He opened his arms and gave his uncle a goodbye hug.

"Uncle Quius! For the continuation of the kingdom, for the glory of the royal family, I'll leave it to you here! Fifteen days, you only need to hold on for fifteen days! Next, either retreat to the hinterland or surrender to the Mexicans. , it's up to you to decide!!"

Commander Nanlu nodded slowly, like a sculpture frozen in the wind. He vowed again in a low voice.

"Under the banner of the eagle, I will shed blood..."

Hearing the familiar oath, the young king finally smiled. He bowed his head, bowed solemnly to his uncle for the first time, and then silently walked into the fort. There are so many things about the withdrawal of the army, and he has to make his own decision and secretly arrange the deployment. The king's guards lined up in two lines, holding bronze axes and bows, and followed them with a stern expression on their faces.

On the empty fortress, only Queus was left alone. He quietly watched the flying king flag, recalling the glory of his ancestors. The glorious past came to his mind one by one, turning into a smile at the corner of his mouth. Until the night was dark, a team of guards came in a hurry, replaced the inherited king's flag, and raised the new flag. Commander Nanlu lost his strength. He staggered, took two steps forward, and fell under the flag. The towering fortress was silent again, except for the funeral song of the priests, mourning the coming fate.

His fate is already doomed, and even the tens of thousands of troops in his hands will fall into the boundless darkness. The old king's flag fell silently, and the new flag was raised slowly, just like the fall of this kingdom, the elegy of the omen in the night.