"Go outside the tent and take five whips by yourself!"

Chichika looked fierce and shouted in a deep voice. Dressed in a wolf robe, he sat cross-legged in the broad main tent, surrounded by tribal leaders on both sides. The Tribal Council is being held, and the chiefs are participating together to decide the future of the Guaquili Alliance. The Red Dog Chief, wearing a long crown of eagle feathers, sat on the top of the bison blanket, with a large dry bison head behind him.

The bison is the largest land beast on the northern wasteland, or even the entire continent. It is nearly two meters tall, weighs as much as a ton, runs extremely fast, has a short-tempered temperament, is very aggressive and dangerous. Every tribe in the wasteland takes the slaying of bison as a symbol of bravery. This bison was Chichika's prey when he was young, and he personally cut off the head and made it into a specimen. At this moment, the huge bull's head is placed in the main tent, which not only shows the fearlessness and bravery of the chief, but also declares his unquestioned leadership.

Uman tore off the cotton armor on his upper body, left his upper body naked, and strode outside the tent to be punished. He gritted his teeth hard, and said nothing, letting the other guard whip the whip hard. The whip fell with a piercing crackle, leaving bloodstains in the flesh. There was a swish on Uman's head, and a large amount of fine beads of sweat appeared. After receiving the punishment, he still gritted his teeth, walked back to the main tent with the scar on his back, and knelt down in front of the chief.

"Uman, do you know what's wrong?"

Chichika looked at the bright red behind the guard, her tone a little slower.

"I know I'm wrong!... This attack was not good, the elites were damaged too much... and Toh was killed in the battle!"

Uman gritted his teeth and lowered his head to answer.

Large-scale tribes in the wasteland usually have a population of about 5,000, and usually have more than 2,000 men who can fight, among which the elite redheads range from 300 to 400. The harsh living environment on the wasteland, the lack of food supplies, and the rapid changes in the climate make it difficult to form an overly large tribe in one place.

The Red Dog Tribe is the largest tribe on the wasteland. When they went south, they merged all the way. Now they have nearly 10,000 people, more than 4,000 soldiers, and 800 elite redheads. In this battle today, four or five hundred tribal warriors who are good at fighting, and one hundred elite red-haired hunters have been lost!

Thinking of this, Chichika felt a pain in her heart. Tribal warriors are fine, they can be recruited from various ministries. The red-haired hunter has excellent shooting skills, but it is difficult to replenish easily. He held the long dagger at his waist, suppressed the urge to kill, and then looked at Uman again.

"Uman, you just said that the leader of Otomi on the opposite side was shot dozens of arrows without falling down?"

"Yes, Chief! The last Otomi leader was killed by us after one round. This one is fine after several rounds. The skin is thicker than an armadillo!"

Uman nodded bitterly, his face unwilling. He failed to kill the opponent's leader in one fell swoop. The warriors of Ottopan were thus reassured and formed a battle formation to resist, causing many casualties.

"Pachyderm? ... I seem to have heard it somewhere, it seems that the cactus tribe has many pachyderm warriors. Ottowa once sent a messenger, saying that this is an expensive and strong armor. As long as the cactus tribe is defeated, the thick skin can be destroyed. Get the skin..."

Chichika tried to recall. The five divisions of the Red Dog Alliance have been active further north, and they have not fought much with the Mexican coalition, and are not familiar with the opponent's tactics and equipment. After thinking for a moment, Chief Red Dog slapped his thigh.

"Right! Two days ago, a tribe escaped from the Red Fox Valley. What's it called?"

"Chief, it's the Red Crow Tribe. They also brought a few small tribes here, and now they're all merged together. I've seen them as a messenger. There are more than 2,000 tribesmen, the warriors are in their early 800s, and the red hair is 100 or 200. But after all, it's a small tribe, and among the red-haired warriors, there is actually a young girl..."

The guard pouted, obviously disdainful.

"More than 2,000 people, it's not a small tribe. There are many women in the wasteland who are excellent at archery!"

Chichika smiled and didn't care. He just kept asking.

"Red Crow Tribe, where is it now?"

"They took the mountain road further north, and they are now in Palms Valley, camped by the river outside the small town. Well, they seem to want to continue to migrate east along the Tempon River."

"You go, go now!"

Chichika ordered without hesitation. He needs more intelligence on the southern tribes.

"Tell the Red Crow Tribe that they have been recruited! Ordinary warriors can stay in the camp, but the redheads must be sent to fight. By the way, let their chief come over and listen to me!"

The personal guard bowed his head to lead the order, and went out to the east of the camp. Chief Red Dog looked at Uman again.

"Uman, the wolves only hunt in an instant! You are still entangled in this battle after your surprise attack failed, you should be punished! However, you charged yourself, as brave and fearless as a bison, you should be rewarded! Well, I just gave it to you. The punishment of five whips, now it's time to reward you. I will choose an Otomi noble girl from my account and reward you!"

"Ah! Listen to you, Chief! Ouch..."

Uman looked happy and kowtowed to the ground.

"Haha, go down, my bison!"

Seeing the respectful appearance of the warrior, Chichika nodded with satisfaction, and continued to discuss military affairs with the tribal leaders. He sat in the main seat, and as long as he gave a few brief orders, the leaders of the various departments nodded in agreement. Even the chiefs of large tribes are often submissive. This clear primary and secondary status is completely different from the three in the Red Fox Valley.

"Chichika leader. The scout reported that the Red Fox Valley had fallen, and it was less than ten days before and after the defense! As a result, Ottowa fled, Mizli was captured, and Miwa surrendered. A total of 20,000 wasteland tribes were reduced to free will. Sacrifice at the disposal of the Aztecs!"

Speaking of this, Red Monkey Chief Ozoma's eyes flashed. He looked at the worried chiefs, and then at Chichika, who looked up.

"Now, the army of the cactus tribe is rushing here like an unstoppable bison. The cactus warriors are fierce, and they are as fierce as jaguars. The wolves of the wasteland never fight for adventure, and the vast wasteland is enough to keep us away from danger. .. Chichika, are we going to back off one or two?"

"No! Orzoma, we can't go back."

Chichika answered clearly. He cast his eyes, staring into Orzoma's eyes, filled with the might of a leader.

"Now the old camps of various tribes are in the Palms Valley in the northeast, and tens of thousands of hungry tribesmen are waiting for food. Seeing that the corn is about to mature and the harvest is just around the corner, how can you leave at this time?!"

Then, Chief Red Dog paused, killing intent on his face.

"The red fox valley fell so quickly, it was because the red fox tribe took the lead to escape! Orzoma, do you want to take the lead in escaping?"

Faced with the questioning of the Red Dog Chief, the Red Monkey Chief froze in his heart. He lowered his head, didn't dare to look directly, and said in a low voice.

"Uh, esteemed Chichika chief... Of course I am, working with the ministries..."

"Okay, remember your promise!"

Chichika patted the cowhide under her body, making a loud snapping sound. He looked around, looking fiercely at the heads of the various ministries. Some of the leaders nodded in agreement, while others were still worried. The Red Dog Chief thought for a while, and then opened his mouth to cheer.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have more than 60,000 tribes in our hands! Counting the strong women who can shoot arrows, each tribe can make up 30,000 soldiers! And the coalition army on the opposite side is no more than 20,000 to 30,000 people at most. There are many Otomi native dogs. There are only thousands of cactus warriors who are good at fighting! They still have to leave the army to guard and maintain the food route. As long as we occupy the dangerous place and harass the other party's food route, we will be able to defend the valley!"

"The Palms Valley, 50 miles away from our northeast, is the blessing of our ancestors and promised us our homeland! It is 50 miles from east to west, and 30 to 40 miles from north to south. It is surrounded by mountains and is easy to defend and difficult to attack! In the middle of the valley is a wide Tempon. The river flows all the way to the east, irrigating the fertile land... This is a rare fertile soil in the north, as long as you plant seeds, you can reap a lot of food!"

"Having such a rich place, do you still want to go back to the barren wasteland? After living in a comfortable stone house, do you still want to go to the wind and sleep? What's more, even the women in the south are whiter and more beautiful than the women of the tribe. The bigger ones are softer, and they won't even shoot you with a bow!"

Hearing this, the leaders laughed and uttered foul language, all in agreement. The Palms Valley is extremely rich, so you don't have to worry about cold snaps or water sources, you can also grow a lot of food. You can also fish in the river, and there are many birds and beasts in the mountains. This is an unimaginable place before the various parts of the wasteland go south.

Seeing the expressions of the leaders, Chichika grinned and put away the killing intent. The tribes directly under his hands have reached 10,000 people~lightnovelpub.net~ and over 60,000 tribes in the wasteland obey orders. Never before has such a large tribal alliance gathered in the wasteland, and only the fertile south could support it.

As the leader of tens of thousands of Guaquilis, Chief Red Dog has no inherited experience to refer to, and no wasteland traditions to support. He can only rely on the force of his direct subordinates and the prestige of the leader to rule so many tribes. For the warriors of various tribes, he rewarded and punished them to gain the hearts of the army; to the common chiefs, he gave generous gifts to appease the hearts of the people; and for the chiefs of the big tribes, he not only tried to win over, but also severely beat them. After so busy for half a year, I finally managed to control all the ministries.

However, the premise of all this is that he cannot be defeated and cannot retreat. Defeat will jeopardize prestige and invite challenges from ambitious people. And once they leave the rich Palms Valley, and there is no such fertile land to support them, the gathered tribes will disperse in a rush, returning to the state of scattered sand on the wasteland again. At that time, the so-called leader of the alliance will also exist in name only.

Having tasted power, the Red Dog Chief is never willing to let go. Having seen the wealth and weakness of the southern tribes, he ignited greater ambitions. At this moment, desire is like a galloping herd of beasts, galloping in the heart of the leader of the wasteland. He looked at the crowd again and howled.

"Ouch! The ancestors protect us! Chiefs of the various ministries, we are stationed here to fight the invading enemies! Burn down trees, build stones, and fortify the camps in the mountains... Prepare your bows and arrows and wait for the cactus. The tribe is here to die!"

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