Hearing this, Shulot's heart trembled. With a cold expression, he glanced at the old priest Thea indifferently.

Feeling the king's killing intent, the old priest Tai Ya's knees went weak, and he collapsed on the ground, begging in a low voice.

"Your Majesty, I, I am all for the kingdom, and I don't know anything about Arnold!"

Shulot ignored the old priest. He was expressionless, suppressing the fear in his heart, and sneered.

"Hehe, Asholot, there is someone like you among the dogs! In order to avenge Chichika, you can hide it from everyone and get close to me?"

Hearing this, Bertard looked ashamed. He silently clenched the bronze sword, staring at Ashurot's neck like a jaguar about to hunt.

"Your Majesty, I, I'm really not..."

Asholot trembled all over. He felt the breath of death.

Seeing the performance of his old opponent, Ozoma sneered disdainfully.

"Ha! Asholot! Your matter has been exposed, so why do you have to argue! On the night when the tribe was defeated, you deserved to die! You are still the chief of the big tribe in the wasteland, why don't you have the courage to die calmly? !"

"..."

Asholot was speechless for a moment. He was startled for a while, and sighed.

"Yeah! I should have died a long time ago! So many soldiers are dead, the tribe is gone, and the leader of Chichika is also dead. What am I still living for? This is the end of the matter, and it's just a death!"

After finishing speaking, Asholot looked at the old priest Thea and nodded calmly.

"Priest Taiya, I'm sorry I concealed my identity from you. I'm not Anuo, I'm Asholot!"

Seeing this scene, Shulot nodded slowly. Warriors go to death calmly, blooming and withering like flowers, which is most in line with the aesthetics of the Mexica. He praised in a deep voice.

"Axiolot, for the hatred of the tribe, you endured the humiliation and took the risk of assassinating me, regardless of your personal life and death. You are a worthy warrior! Since you are a warrior, I will use the etiquette of a warrior to bid you farewell. Do you have any poems? Leave?"

"Poetry..."

Asholot was stunned for a while, before reciting in a low voice.

"I am a salamander imprisoned in a water pool, suffering from the pain of not being able to grow up... Then, I climbed out of the water pool, lost my gills and long tail, but had no walking feet... I was in the water pool die on the shore, from birth to death, and obtain eternal detachment!"

"good!"

After listening, Black Wolf Toltek couldn't help admiring. Bertard smiled quietly. Shulot lowered his eyes. In ancient Mesoamerican mythology, the salamander's journey from birth to death is the process of liberating imprisoned souls and entering higher realms. And then, the salamander comes back from the dead and goes through the cycle of rebirth and death.

"Berthard, with the etiquette of a warrior, send him on his way!"

The warrior commander nodded, put away the bronze sword, and held the sacrificial obsidian dagger. With a solemn face, he walked up to Asholot, and stuck the sharp dagger on the other's neck, drawing a faint bloodstain.

"Don't worry, it will be soon."

Bertard said softly.

Asholot closed his eyes and waited to die. A cold sting came from the skin of his neck, and his five senses seemed to be sharpened instantly. Then, he heard a deep breath, which was the precursor of the warrior commander's strength.

"The next second, I will die!"

At the moment of dying, great terror suddenly struck. Asholot was shocked, as if he had fallen into a bottomless abyss. He opened his eyes suddenly, and shouted loudly under Bertard's surprised eyes.

"Your Majesty! I surrender! I am willing to serve you!"

There was an instant silence in the air. This feeling is like one second, you were quietly sniffing a beautiful fragrant flower, and then the next second, a buzzing fly suddenly flew out from the stamen.

"Your Majesty, I'm really not an assassin! I was captured and went south, and I just want to spend the rest of my life honestly. I hid in the crowd today, and I never thought of getting close to you! I really don't know about the recommendation of the priest of Taiya. !..."

Asholot tried to tilt his head away from the warrior commander's dagger. He prayed loudly, whining like a mourning dove.

"...Your Majesty, I am familiar with all the tribes in the wasteland, and I am willing to serve you! I, I can give you advice on the governance of the tribal villages!"

Shulot lowered his eyes and did not speak. It wasn't until Asholot finished the last sentence that he opened his eyes indifferently.

"Oh? Do you have any suggestions for the governance of tribal villages?"

"Well..."

Asholot looked carefully at Bertard, and the warrior commander quietly put away the dagger. Afterwards, Chief Red Newt faltered while thinking quickly.

"Praise Your Majesty! Praise the Lord God! I have stayed in the tribal village for several months, and many places in the village are a mess...Since Your Majesty, you forcibly disrupted the tribe and formed the flag team, the traditional order of the wasteland has disappeared. However, the tribal people are in a state of panic, and have never established new rules..."

As he spoke, Asholot's thoughts became much clearer. After all, he has been in the wilderness for many years, and he has in-depth contact with the situation of the village, and he has a thorough grasp of the people's hearts of the tribe.

"Your Majesty, after all, the strong is the most respected in the tribe. When we were in the wasteland, each department was divided into three levels: red-haired, warrior, and young. The red-haired hunters are not only the most elite warriors, but also the hunting captains. They actually manage the tribe Teams of people. Only under their command, the whole tribe can move thousands of miles like arms and fingers..."

"...Now, you have forcibly disrupted the tribes and conscripted away all the warriors, leaving only young men from different tribes, and the tribal villages have lost their ranks. Our Guakili tribe has always only feared the strong. The priests or village chiefs who are dispatched cannot control them."

"Well, there is some truth to it."

Xiulot listened for a while and nodded in agreement. The problem with the villages of the dog-descendants now is that they have lost their hierarchy and order. By mobilizing the elite, although the kingdom disintegrated the ability of the dog-born to cause chaos, it also made it difficult for them to command.

"Asholot, what suggestion do you have to solve this problem?"

"Your Majesty, the easiest way is to send some red-haired warriors back to the villages, and then restore the traditional order of the wasteland..."

Hearing this, Shulot shook his head. The kingdom managed to pull out the elite dog descendants, disintegrating the traditional tribal order, so how could it be possible to let them go back.

"...Your Majesty, the second method is to select skilled warriors from the cactus tribe and send them to the tribe's villages to directly lead them!"

Hearing this, Shulot raised his eyebrows. The kingdom's warriors are also limited, and they cannot station too many in the village. He stared closely at Asholot's eyes, and asked lightly.

"You said one or two, there must be a third."

"..."

Ashuro nodded, but did not speak. He opened his eyes wide and looked at the king expectantly.

"Speak out. Well said, I will save your life."

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

Asholot licked his dry lips, and replied in a deep voice.

"Your Majesty, you have set up a banner team of 8,000 people and a small banner team of 400 people. Then under the small banner team, there will be an additional level, tent."

"account?"

Xiulot thought about this familiar concept.

"Yes. There are 50-100 people in a tent, and there are 15-30 people, which is roughly equivalent to the smallest tribe in the wilderness. In a small banner team of 400 people, you can set up a big tent with a leader of 100 people, four to six dozens There are about three small banner teams in a Guajili village, with more than a thousand people and hundreds of people."

Asholot paused for a moment, silently counting the numbers. His math ability is obviously higher than other dogs.

"Then, each village must have at least three strong and elite warriors as village managers. Each of them has a large tent of a hundred people and leads four to six small tents. As for the leader of the small tent, you can let the tent Dozens of people recommend it, usually the strongest man among them."

"You mean, I will transfer some warriors to take charge of the banner team. Then the leader of the small tent will let the tribal people fight for themselves. Pass the tent level and actually manage the village?"

Xiulot became a little interested. The low-level system of this tribe always gave him a strange sense of familiarity. Now, he has more than 150 dog-born small flag teams, and after calculation, he only needs 150 senior warriors. And it just so happened that after a Northern Expedition, there were almost one or two hundred senior warriors who needed to be entrusted.

"Your Majesty is wise!"

Asholot bowed to the ground with difficulty. His eyes flickered, looked at the king's expression, and said with a smile.

"This is the first suggestion, set up tents in the flag team."

"oh?"

Shulot pondered for a while and looked at the warrior commander.

"Berthard, bring him here!"

The warrior commander nodded, and brought Asholot to the king.

"Smart Asholot, what's the second suggestion?"

"Your Majesty, the second suggestion is to naturalize the priests of the wasteland. Naturalize the priests of the wasteland to become qualified priests of the main god, and then manage the tribal villages."

Asholot glanced at the old priest Thea, and answered in a low voice. To be honest, with the weak physique and soft temperament of the old priest Taiya, if he hadn't been controlling the tribe in the village, he would have been **** in a sack by the vicious tribe and sunk into the lake long ago.

"A naturalized wilderness priest?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Priests of the wasteland are mostly physically strong, have a strong personality, can jump and roar, and are good at archery or fighting. Even the old priests of the wasteland often have a 'spell' that can be used, and a tribe that can bluff The people fear obedience."

Speaking of this, Asholot smiled vicissitudes. In the wilderness, without some real ability to restrain people, how could it be possible to live to old age.

"The tribal people always have a simple cognition. The stronger the god, the stronger his priests are. If the priest of the **** is weak, how can the tribal people be convinced?"

"The more powerful the god, the stronger his priests..."

Shulot raised his eyebrows. He understood the subtext. The Guakili tribe believe in the strong, and their ideas are simple and pure. No matter how good the priest's theory is, it's useless, you have to be able to fight and scare people!

"Well, the kingdom is already doing the naturalization of wilderness priests. Now it seems that it can be sped up appropriately."

The king was a little satisfied. Asholot was indeed a talent, and he was worthy of his name.

"What about the third suggestion?"

"Well..."

Asholot pondered for a while, and scenes of village life flashed before his eyes, turning into words in his heart.

"Your Majesty, the third suggestion is to organize young men to hunt."

"Details."

"Tens of thousands of tribes have traveled thousands of miles south, and everyone is poor. In the Satskas Wasteland, there were silver mountains in several places. Unfortunately, no one paid attention to these heavy stones. The tribe so respects..."

"...Now the tribe is settled here, and they have come into contact with so many new things. The tribe likes melons, fruits and meat, but they can't afford them; they like comfortable cotton cloth, but they can't afford them; they like convenient pottery, but they can't afford them; they like You can't even afford shiny bronze utensils..."

"...The tribal people can't afford anything, and they want it. According to the tradition of the wasteland, they just steal and rob. The nearby Prepecha people are very soft, and they dare not come to fight if they rob property. .. If it takes a long time, there will be big trouble!"

Asholot knew in his heart that although the peasants in Prepecha were docile, their warriors were equally murderous. The army of the Great Chief Death is not a display, once it really starts to fight, it will be bloody.

"That's right, keep talking."

Xiulot listened patiently.

"The tribe is poor, so they can only find ways to get some property. Farming is just a living, and the only thing everyone can rely on is hunting skills. Which tribal people can't shoot arrows and spears? As long as the village organizes the tribal people to go hunting and get a harvest, You can trade what you need.”

"Well, what are you good at hunting?"

"Shooting birds, hunting rabbits, hunting rats, trapping deer, hunting wolves... and capturing captives."

Hearing this, Shulot fell into deep thought. In his mind, some new ideas gradually appeared. After a while, the king nodded.

"When the flag team is reorganized, I will arrange the leaders of each flag team to organize hunting. The kingdom is short of dogs and slaves. After the autumn harvest, there will be a special capture team led by jaguar warriors to go south or west. Young adults from all parts of Kili can join."

"Praise Your Majesty!"

Asholot kowtowed heavily.

"I will also tell the kingdom to set up a market in the tribal gathering place to trade your hunting harvest. The market will be supervised by a special person, and the transaction price will be kept as fair as possible, so that you will not be deceived by profiteers."

With that said, Xiu Luote ordered the guards to write down the Wang Ling just now. Then he asked with a smile.

"Do you have any other suggestions?"

"Well..."

Asholot racked his brains and reluctantly answered.

"Your Majesty, there is one last suggestion, which can temporarily calm people's hearts, especially the recruited tribal fighters."

"explain!"

"According to the traditions of the wasteland, the tribes admire red very much, and are even willing to sacrifice their lives for the sacred red. If you can give the warriors red fur, red feathers, or red dye, you will be the most generous chief! Of course, if you have A red-haired woman, even better!"

Hearing this, Xiulot was slightly taken aback. He remembered that when the Spanish colonists of later generations "purchased peace" from the Chichimecs, they specifically listed one item: giving hundreds of red-haired women.

"A good suggestion. There is no shortage of red fur, feathers, and dyes in the Alliance. Bertard, please record it and reward it as appropriate when you go back."

"Follow your will, Your Highness."

"Your Majesty, then I..."

Asholot knelt on the ground, looking at the king with hope in his eyes.

Shulot groaned with a smile.

"Asholot, you have died once just now, and all the guilt has been cancelled. The divine salamander will come back from the dead, and then have a new look. Next, what do you want to do?"

"Ah, praise Your Majesty! Thank you for your kindness!...I would like to cross the river, return to the wilderness, and defend the city of Palms for you..."

"No."

"...uh...I want to stay here in the Guajili village, to be a pious village priest, to spread the glory of the Lord God to you..."

"No."

"...uh...everything is according to His Majesty's arrangement."

"very good."

Xiulot nodded with a smile and announced the answer.

"Axiolot, from today onwards, you will join my personal guard and accompany Wang Qi around."

In the cruel northern wilderness, there is no one who can get along with the chiefs of the big tribes. Asholot has both the experience of a tribal chief and the tempering of large-scale wars, so how can he be thrown into the dog-born group at will! Or take it with you, more at ease.

"Praise Your Majesty!"

Asholotov closed his eyes and knelt on the ground, as if he had exhausted all his strength.

Two steps away, Ozoma and Coca looked at each other, both wanted to say a lot, but they didn't say anything. And the old priest Tai Ya knelt alone in the corner, no one answered him, let alone dared to make a sound. He had been preparing for this plan for a long time, but he almost caused a big trouble.

"Priest of Taiya."

"Ah! Your Majesty the Most High!"

"Soon a new priest will come and take over your position."

"...obey you, Your Majesty."

The old priest Taiya fell on the ground, UU reading www.uukanshu.com lost all his strength in an instant.

"You will be transferred to the Estuary Fortress and serve as the second-level preaching priest."

"Ah! . . to obey you, Your Majesty!"

The old priest Thea was shocked suddenly, and his strength suddenly recovered. He kowtowed vigorously to the ground, and even his voice became louder.

"Well, Bertard, let's go!"

Shulot smiled lightly.

"Ahhelot, you come with me."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The king pondered for a while, and looked at Asholot for the last time.

"Remember, you have already died once. From now on, your name will be Arnold!"

7017k

Please remember the first domain name of this book: . :