The sun slanting in the west fell from the cracks in the hut, falling silently among the crowd. There were the leaders of the two teams, and the father and son who had just met and cried.

The dog-born fighters looked dull, watching the young leader with snot and tears, and screaming "ahhh". Even the original dog-born captain in the village ran over to watch this rare scene of family recognition.

The crew members of the fleet sat slumped on the ground, happy for the old captain and themselves. The corner of Priest Mekart's mouth raised, and after thinking quietly for a while, his smile became even wider. In the corner, Dark Snake and Didi looked at the scene in front of them with excitement and joy on their faces, but also some unspeakable sadness and sadness.

"Father! It's been seven years! Even if I **** God to death, I never thought I'd see you again!"

The tattooed Chippawa was crying and laughing, shouting excitedly.

"You're not dead! You're not dead! Ah! Do you know? I dug a grave for you, and I dug it on the mountain beside Warrior Lake. I also dug a grave for my mother and sister... All these years, I've been thinking about it day and night. Think, I am avenging you all in my dreams!"

".I...I didn't expect it!...I always thought that you were dead...you were eaten by wild dogs on the battlefield, and you couldn't even find your body!..."

The old militiaman was tearful, incoherent, and behaved worse than Chippawa. He was dizzy, as if he was drunk or floating in the sky. At this moment, he hugged Chipawa's face tightly, and pressed his son's forehead hard, for fear that if he let go, the other party would turn into smoke and suddenly disappear.

"Hot! Alive! ... You're alive! Alive! ... Alive, wow!"

"Ah! We're all still alive! Ouch!"

Having said this, Chippawa roared, howling like a canine. Then, with a big wave of his hand, he shouted to the soldiers under him.

"What are you still doing in a daze? Prepare wine and meat for me! I found my father! Slaughter all the turkeys in the village, give me wine and meat tonight, and toast my father!..."

"Yes! Boss!"

Several dog-born fighters were stunned, and suddenly agreed. Soon, the small village by the river became busy, and shouts of killing chickens for cooking were everywhere. The elders in the village looked bitter, watching hundreds of fierce dog-born warriors rampaging in the village. Seeing the dazed eyes of the old militiaman, he wanted to say something, but was stared at by Chipawa's fierce eyes, and then lowered his head in awe.

At sunset, bonfires were lit by the river. The old militiaman was still dizzy, and everyone in the fleet was also dizzy. The dog-born fighters ate meat and drank in big bowls, and celebrated in a rare way. Afterwards, they came forward to toast one by one, sang and danced, until the old militiaman was almost drunk.

"Okay! Good!...It's all good!"

There is not much wine in the village, and after a few rounds, it was exhausted. The bonfire reflected the red faces of everyone, listening to the sound of everyone singing and laughing. During the day, it's still life and death, and I can't wait to cut it into several sections. At night, it becomes a real family, singing and dancing together. The unpredictable changes of fate are really dazzling and confusing.

"Go down! Have fun on your own! I want to talk to Dad!"

After eating and drinking enough, the tattooed Chippawa waved his arms to drive away the dog-born warriors sitting around. Priest Meccat was also knowledgeable and brought everyone in the fleet back to the hut. Only then did the father and son really have a chance to stay alone for a while.

The old militiaman Chihuaco squatted by the river and washed his face vigorously with the cold water. The tattooed Chippawa also squatted beside him and washed together for a while, just like when he was a child. Then, the father and son sat in front of the bonfire, looking at each other face to face, but for a while they didn't know what to say.

"Chippawa...you...how did you become this dog-born?"

After a while, the old militiaman Chihuaco stretched out his hand, touched the terrifying tattoo on his son's face, and asked in a low voice.

"Is this...carved with a stone knife? Can't it be washed off?"

"Yes! Carved in stone! Can't be washed off!"

Hearing Dad's question, Chippawa puffed out his chest and pointed to his face proudly, as if pointing to great glory.

"This was three years ago, when I was twenty years old... Sister Alan carved it for me herself! The high priest Zuma of the tribe said that this is the tattoo of the wilderness, and it is also a totem of divinity! It can give me the courage of a wilderness warrior , bestowed upon me the blessing of my ancestors!...It was only after I had it that I became a true fearless warrior step by step!..."

"Huh?...The warrior totem in the wasteland?..."

Hearing this, the old militiaman Chihuaco opened his mouth, wanting to say something. But when he saw his son's proud and confident expression, he was silent for a moment, and just murmured.

"Three years ago...you were twenty years old...you...you were already twenty-three! In my impression, you were only fifteen or sixteen years old, and you were still that short, thin, timid boy..."

"Father! I'm a warrior! I'm a real man! I'm not the boy I used to be! It's been seven years since I was captured by the warriors, left the village, and went to the battlefield!"

Hearing what the old militiaman said, Chipawa raised his eyebrows and interrupted. Sixteen years of military expedition... He has gone through so many changes, wandering all the way to the wasteland, and it has been seven years in a blink of an eye.

"Seven years! I have killed dozens of soldiers! I have slept with dozens of women, more than you have ever slept! I dare to charge ten people alone! I will never be like before, never again How cowardly!..."

"Huh?...But, I remember, back in the Lake District...you..."

"Father! This is a wasteland! A wasteland where people kill, eat, and sleep with women! There are fierce wilderness tribes everywhere. Only by being more ruthless and fierce than them can I make them fear me and listen to me!"

The tattooed Chippawa gritted his teeth and howled like a wild wolf. Then, his expression softened a little, and his voice became low.

"What's more... Sister Alan is so powerful and brave, she has never been afraid!... How can I leave her behind so much?..."

"Hey!... The little turtle has grown up and hatched into a crocodile..."

Wen Yan~lightnovelpub.net~ The old militiaman Chivako pursed his lips, and sighed softly when he saw his son who was familiar but unfamiliar. yes! Seven years! There was so much blood, change, and death in the unprecedented age of the Mexica conquest. So many descendants of gods, priests, and nobles who are high above all fell into the dust and turned into rotten bones...

And after experiencing so much, as long as people don't die, they can grow up quickly. He is like this, his son, why not? This is an era of heroes and legends, as in myths...

The old militiaman was silent, clutching his son's arm tightly. There was sincere joy in his heart, but also a touch of sadness. Because, he knew that his son had his own path, which was different from his, and they couldn't walk together.

The evening wind is blowing hard, bringing the breath of the sea and making people feel relaxed. The tattooed Chippawa calmed down a little before raising his head again to look at his father. He rubbed his face vigorously, the tattooed face that brought courage, and then carefully asked softly.

"Father!... Are my mother and my sister... still...alive?"

(end of this chapter)