Most of May has passed, and the moist east wind blows from the distant large lake, warming the fertile land beside the Leman River. The drizzle of rain fell from the gloomy sky, soaking the fields where corn seeds were sown. This is the season when farmers are farming. The spring breeze blows warmly, the drizzle is like oil, and everywhere you look is full of green vitality.
In the field on the south bank of the river, a thin pointed bud of corn has sprouted. The one-inch sprout separates two small leaves, stands up the slender stem, and stretches towards the sky full of hope.
A pair of bare feet covered with calluses ran past in fear, accompanied by panicked shouts, slamming the young sprouts into the dust, and a season of growth ended at this moment. Then, more pairs of bare feet panicked and staggered away. They stepped on the fields they cultivated with their own hands, crying and howling feebly, and fled south in fear.
After a while, countless pairs of straw sandals took powerful steps and once again ran over the budding fields. The low-hanging war stick brushed against the green grass beside the road and across the land that was beginning to become barren. In accordance with His Highness's orders, the straw-shoe figures were not in a hurry to chase, nor did they kill needlessly. They just kept driving away farmers, setting fire to gathering villages, and creating waves of people fleeing.
The silhouette of the straw sandals went all the way south. It wasn't until the bluestone fortress was vaguely visible, the warriors with bronze spears banged their shields on the wooden stronghold, and the sound of alarm conch horns resounded throughout the southern wilderness, that the Mexica warriors retreated slowly and orderly amidst the enemy's curses.
On the big boat in the Leman River, Shulot carried the commander's flag and looked calmly towards the south.
Around him, three hundred large boats lined up in sequence, like beasts of prey, showing their huge power to the Tarascans and inviting the two boat divisions to fight for a decisive battle. Thousands of small boats were divided into two parts. Half patrol and swim at the outer end, like a flexible school of fish, constantly scouting and patrolling. The other half was filled with warriors, constantly shuttling back and forth, mobilizing troops from the north and south.
"Sowing corn and beans in May, sowing pumpkins in June, resting in July, and harvesting in October. The alliance provoked war at this time, dispatching direct samurai who were off work to invade the enemy's agricultural areas. The enemy's troops were insufficient. If it is difficult to defend, we must give up spring plowing and re-mobilize warriors and militia. This is harmony and giving full play to the alliance's manpower advantage."
Shulot thought calmly, life began to turn into a simple number, and all actions were performed for victory. He observed the Tarascan camp, waiting for the reaction of the enemy commander.
Not long after establishing a foothold on the north coast, the Mexica advance army launched a large-scale attack with overwhelming momentum. Although the advance army made a large-scale invasion posture, in fact only two thousand warriors from the western city-states crossed the river and invaded south. These warriors dispersed into small groups of hundreds and invaded the land of Akambalo State. They burned the settlements on the south bank of the river and drove the farmers of Tarasco southward until they reached the enemy camp more than ten miles away.
Their mission is to destroy, test, and lure: to destroy the enemy's spring plowing this year, to test the current status of the enemy's mobilization, and to lure the enemy warriors to attack.
Shulot's eyes stayed on the river bank in the south, showing a confident smile.
At the beach on the south bank of the river, five hundred jaguar warriors and a thousand temple guards were waiting leisurely. These elite battle groups have a relaxed attitude, well-equipped equipment, and their combat effectiveness is beyond doubt. At this time, they were sitting cross-legged on the ground to rest, ready to launch a surprise attack on a large group of enemies at any time.
On the big river, Shulot's fleet was filled with the real main force, waiting solemnly. Three thousand of the most elite warriors had their long bows strung, their quivers slung across their bodies, and they were fastened tightly on their fingers. They sit on the boat, conserving their strength, ready to rain arrows on the enemy at any time, whether the enemy comes from the water or the shore. The huge boat also carried an additional two thousand warriors with sticks and shields for possible boarding battles.
There are more than ten oarsmen in each big boat, and there are two or three people in the small boat. There are a total of 8,000 sailors and militiamen in the Mexican Navy Division, all of which are in preparation for war.
Shulot looked up at the sky, and wisps of drizzle slid softly, creating circles of ripples on the water. The first rain has been falling for three days. From sporadic drops at the beginning, to the thin rain now, it is about to rain heavily.
The young commander's face was expressionless and he was thinking deeply.
This was the last time the Mexican advance army lured the enemy, and it was also the last time the navy invited battle. All the eight thousand warriors of the main force were dispatched, leaving only one thousand city-states and one thousand direct warriors in the wooden fort on the north bank, guarding eight thousand captives. Under the raincloth covering the big boat were bundles of rockets, and the longbow warriors replaced their bowstrings.
If the Tarascan navy goes to battle, the Mexican navy will give them an unforgettable "surprise" and establish an absolute advantage on the Leman River.
Shulot looked towards the southwest river mouth again. The tall river mouth fortress was in sight, but there were only a few Tarasco boats on the water. These small boats probed from afar, passing the fortress from time to time to report military information. The main force of Tarasco's navy is hidden in Lake Quiceo, under the strict protection of the river mouth fortress. It is not known whether it has been assembled.
"If the rain increases again in a few days, the rainy season will really come. At that time, gunpowder weapons will no longer be usable, and the power of longbows will be greatly weakened. Under the weather, the Mexica navy will lose its absolute long-range The advantage is no longer a good opportunity for war."
While Shulot was thinking about the circumstances of the war, he suddenly heard the scout's report.
"Your Highness, a large group of enemies appeared ten miles southeast, numbering at least five thousand!"
After hearing this, Shulot climbed onto the high platform of the big boat and looked southeast. Ten miles is almost the limit of visual distance from flat ground, and there are several groups of small dots running faintly to the southeast. And behind the small dots, there are large groups of black dots, and birds that startle when the black dots pass by.
Shulot was stunned for a moment, then his face lit up with joy. He once again glanced at the scattered enemy ships on the southwest river. There was no call for naval forces to be dispatched. After some thought, the young commander ordered two thousand warriors with sticks and shields to land, and the elite battle group on the beach prepared for battle. Then, three lines of black smoke were lit on the south bank, gathering the scattered city-state warriors.
A few more quarters of an hour later, the two thousand warriors had landed. The enemy troops in the distance were clearly visible, and the patches of bronze spears shone coldly. Three to four hundred Mexica warriors blew their bone whistles as they fled to the river. Seeing the huge size of the fleet on the river and the Mexica warriors preparing for battle, Tarasco's pursuit slowed down significantly.
Shulot listened carefully for a while and could only distinguish two repeated syllables. The young commander thought for a moment, then decisively gave up thinking and asked the warrior commander beside him.
"Bertard, what does this whistle mean?"
Bertard had been listening for a long time. He smiled slightly and answered calmly.
"Your Highness, the meaning is: be careful, there are many enemies."
Shulot was speechless for a moment. When he saw that the pursuers on the south bank had stopped and seemed ready to retreat, he no longer hesitated and waved the battle flag fiercely.
The sound of attacking trumpets suddenly sounded. A thousand temple guards shouted the name of the god feverishly, their sound shaking the sky. They lowered their shields and raised their war clubs, charging towards the Tarasco warriors at the front. Afterwards, the warriors exchanged shields and collided with each other, splashing mud and water all over their bodies.
The temple guards swung their war clubs and hit the enemy's head, denting the leather cap and bones. The warrior Tarasco thrust out a bronze spear, penetrated the guard's cotton armor, and penetrated deeply into the soft heart. The frontal battle became fierce in an instant. The warriors on both sides continued to struggle and fell, and the blood gradually dyed the ground red.
The two thousand direct warriors were divided into two groups and attacked the enemy's left and right sides respectively. They were faced with hordes of bronze spear thrusts, and their opponents were civilian militiamen without shields. The direct samurai are skilled and experienced. They held their shields high and shouted to extend to the flanks, forcing the militiamen on the opposite side to gradually disperse. Then, the leading senior warriors roared loudly and bravely rushed in through the gaps in the enemy's formation. They used their skilled combat skills to knock down the militiamen holding spears one by one while striking closely.
The five hundred jaguar battle group deflected slightly, like agile cheetahs, around the enemy's rear. They howled in terror and threw two rounds of spears, creating two gaps in the enemy's formation. Immediately, the elite battle group broke into the scattered and wavering militia and slaughtered them wantonly. The ferocious beast-shaped helmet carries an intimidating power, like a charging beast, making the militiamen tremble with fear. Skilled war sticks are even more deadly. During the continuous blows, the attacked enemy will fall to the ground like cornstalks, with blood splattered on the spot.
Shulot stared at the south bank, calmly observing the battle situation. As the two sides engaged in battle, the battle lines of the samurai and militia spread out to both wings, and the group of enemies slowly expanded into a long line. Only then did he fully see the specific composition of the enemy army.
The obverse shows a thousand Tarascan warriors. They resisted the fanatical attack of the temple guards and were temporarily at a disadvantage. The two wings engaged, and Tarasco's army resisted for a moment, and then retreated loosely. This should be a trained militia. And when the Jaguar warriors who surrounded the rear launched an assault, Tarasco's army suddenly slumped inward, the flag was crooked, and it quickly disintegrated... The rear must be ordinary militiamen.
The more than 300 city-state warriors who fled only rested for a quarter of an hour. By the time they entered the battlefield again, Tarasco's army was about to collapse. Under the instructions of the commander's flag, the city-state warriors formed an arrow and broke in again through the gap in the flank. Tarasco's army was like a taut silk thread that was suddenly cut into two pieces when lightly scratched by a sharp blade, and then collapsed.
Thousands of militiamen threw away the bronze spears in their hands, let out a loud and meaningless shout, turned around and fled south. As soon as the Mexica warriors blocked their way, groups of militiamen knelt down and surrendered. The direct warriors on both wings began to pursue southward, while the city-state warriors were almost exhausted and were in charge of the surrendered militiamen.
The noble Jaguar Chapter disdained to hunt down the militiamen. They roared again and attacked the Tarascan warriors from behind. This type of attack from behind is the most deadly and can completely disrupt the rhythm of the defense. In less than half an hour, a thousand warriors with bronze spears disintegrated, turned around and fled to the south. The temple guards enthusiastically praised the name of the god, thanked the Lord God for the victory, and then strode away in pursuit.
Seeing the victory coming so quickly, Shulotran laughed out loud and shared the joy of battle with the generals. Immediately, he lowered his eyes and thought secretly.
Tarasco's army only had a thousand warriors, and the remaining four to five thousand were militiamen. The expected battle did not come, and the enemy's navy did not dispatch. Now, the main force of the Tarascans is hidden behind a series of camps and fortresses, firmly controlling the southern defense line. He could not find out the details of the enemy's mobilization, nor was he sure about the opponent's troop distribution. He could only constantly test carefully and be wary of potential dangers.
The strong wind blew, bringing distant thunder. Soon, the rain in the sky became heavier and heavier, soaking the raincloth on the boat and the prepared rockets.
Shulot raised his head, letting the raindrops hit his face, savoring the slight pain, as if listening to the will of God.
Soon, Barda came to report again. In this battle, two hundred warriors of Tarasco were killed and five hundred captured. Killed hundreds of militiamen and captured more than 2,000 people. More than 3,000 long and short bronze spears were seized. The Mexican casualties were no more than a hundred warriors, most of which occurred on the frontal battlefield where the warriors fought. At this time, a large number of warriors were still chasing.
The young commander nodded majestically and praised the warriors for their bravery. As long as the warriors did not exhaust their energy, break up and flee, or be completely surrounded, the casualties in frontal battles would not be too many. Once the militiamen are broken up, they can often run faster than the samurai. This kind of target is not worth the risk of pursuing.
After thinking for a moment, Shulot ordered in a deep voice.
"Very good. Barda, you fought well! The next order is: recall the pursuing warriors and treat our wounded. Classify the prisoners and ask for details about the enemy!"
Barda bowed proudly and left as ordered.
After a while, dozens of heralds ran in all directions, spreading the order to withdraw their troops. Then, groups of prisoners were unloaded with equipment, escorted on boats, and transported to the north shore in batches. The warriors put away their weapons, discussed the battle eagerly with their captures on the battlefield, and boarded the boat with great interest.
The wind was strong, the battle flag was fluttering, and the continuous rain was falling in all directions. The rain diluted the blood-soaked soil and washed away the simply buried bodies.
Shulot rejected the proposal to build a temple. During the warm rainy season, corpses should be buried as soon as possible to prevent the occurrence of disease. With the official arrival of the rainy season, luring enemies and inviting battles come to an end. He did not want to overly stimulate the enemy and fight hard in the heavy rain season.
The young commander finally looked toward the river mouth fortress in the southwest. The enemy's boats were still swimming, bringing news of the defeat on the river bank back to the south. They were the eyes of the Tarascans, and the fortress at the mouth of the river was the key to the eyes.
Shulot watched it for a long time, and came up with some ideas while pondering. Then, the commander's flag pointed north, the conch bugle sounded loudly for withdrawal, the battalion captains loudly agreed, and the sailors rowed the oars again.
Soon, thousands of boats were swaying, thousands of people were returning north, and the dark sky covered everything. Loaded with the spoils of victory, the Mexican navy sailed toward the stronghold on the north shore, leaving only the green smoke gradually extinguished in the drizzle.
Note: There is a detailed map of the Tarasco strategy at the end of the chapter, covering the land of Mikancho.
