A strong long wind blew from the eastern sky, and the wind chimes on the high platform jingled again, like a fierce prelude to a movement.
King Suangua stood on the high platform, silently looking at the eastern sky. The summer wind in the rainy season is so dull, and the moist water vapor blows against your face, indicating that a new heavy rain is coming.
After a while, King Tarasco sighed softly. He lowered his head, stared at the long bow and bronze arrows on the ground, and spoke slowly and solemnly.
"Zinzini, how are the master craftsmen doing their research? When can these Mexican longbows be imitated?"
The chief minister showed an invisible smile.
"Your Majesty, I have summoned the master craftsmen in the capital to study together for two days. According to the masters, the manufacturing technology of this long bow is not complicated. The craftsmen only need to make an approximate imitation of the existing shape. . Before I came here, I just issued a strict order for the craftsmen to start making it. The first copy can be made within two or three days at the fastest!"
Su Angua nodded with satisfaction. He looked at the chief minister and asked seriously.
"Zinzini, the stone fortress in the south is crumbling, and the danger is like accumulated bird eggs! The warriors on the front line need this powerful new weapon. Can we build a thousand longbows in two weeks? Can it be done?!"
The chief minister thought for a moment and replied calmly.
"Your Majesty, it can't be done. It's impossible!"
Hearing this, the king's eyes widened, waiting for the chief's explanation.
"The technical difficulty of the Mexican longbow can be overcome. However, its bow body is long and wide, and the wood is hard. It is very labor-intensive to make! We lack skilled bowsmiths, and the initial stage of large-scale manufacturing will be very slow. At the same time, this long bow The draw force of the bow is extremely high, and the arrows used must have strong shafts and neat shapes, which are also extremely difficult to make! In addition, high-quality feathers are expensive, and high-quality wood has large gaps..."
Zinzini patiently recounted the story one by one, regardless of Su'angua's increasingly gloomy expression. Finally, his voice suddenly became loud and clear.
"Your Majesty, the most critical point is that both longbows and feathered arrows require a lot of labor. And the Lake District is mobilizing on a large scale to fight, and our manpower is almost exhausted!"
Hearing this, Su Angua's face froze. He asked seriously.
"Tell me in detail!"
The chief minister saluted respectfully, then stretched out his right hand and counted his fingers one by one.
"The Grand Patzcuaro Lake District has a total population of more than 900,000, and more than 200,000 men and women. At this time, the north and the south were at war at the same time, and the border was full of war. Two months after the war began, 30,000 to 40,000 men and women were lost, including the militia. . The kingdom has already mobilized 50,000 militiamen to join the battlefield, and another 50,000 will be recruited in the future. Many of the remaining men are in the fiefdoms of nobles and nobles, and it is difficult to force them to be recruited. These people can only maintain the most basic autumn harvest... Your Majesty, pure In terms of national strength, we are only three-fifths of the Mexican Federation.”
Suangua remained silent. He knew in his heart that, including the vassals that paid tribute to the Mexican Alliance, the kingdom's national strength was only half that of its huge enemy. The king pondered for a moment, listening to the priest's singing in the wind, and then slowly spoke.
"The nobles are gathering together, waiting for the priests' sacrificial ceremony. I will discuss the gods' prophecies with the priests and elders. The gods will inevitably say that the nobles, big and small, jointly contribute manpower and material resources to resist the invasion of the believers of the alien gods. This will be pious. The embodiment of it or not!”
Jinzini was startled for a moment, then after thinking for a moment, his expression changed drastically. He spoke quickly.
"Your Majesty, nobility is the foundation of the kingdom..."
Su Angua waved his hand to stop him, his expression cold and hard.
"Jinjinni, I have my own sense of discretion! Can the thousands of craftsmen in the capital allocate a group to specialize in making longbows?"
The chief minister lowered his head and calculated for a moment before answering.
"If we stop the maintenance of palaces and temples and forcibly recruit craftsmen from the royal family, we should be able to gather two to three hundred people."
Hearing this, the king frowned slightly.
"This number is too small! Draw another 300 people from the bronze weapon craftsmen, and all of them will be used to make longbows and arrows."
Zinzini was busy calculating again. Then, he answered hesitantly.
"If this is the case, the daily output should be more than fifty longbows and more than a thousand arrows. It will also require nearly a thousand people to cut wood and handle chores... Is it just a shortage of bronze soldiers?"
Su Angua nodded and waved his hand decisively.
"Just do it this way! The militia guarding the fort does not need bronze soldiers. Allocate a batch of bronze tools to the craftsmen so that they can improve their bow-making skills and make them proficiently as soon as possible. The warriors step up their supervision and work day and night. Also, urgently select warriors who are good at shooting. The militia and militia are listed directly under the royal family, and priority is given to equipping them with longbows!"
The chief minister quickly drew abstract longbows and figures on the board, marked counting symbols, and wrote down the king's instructions.
Suangua turned around and looked at the five majestic "House of Winds" Yakata. The sacrificial ceremony had already begun.
Under the Yaka Tower, the nobles stood solemnly, silently watching the solemn and grand ceremony. In front of the three temples, the holy fire burned fiercely, and the low-level priests sang loudly. They inhaled the smoke from the Kingdom of God floating out of the pottery gourds and danced wildly in a trance.
The king smelled the breath in the wind and frowned. He looked away in disgust and looked at the high-ranking priests with calm expressions. These old priests stood on the top of the temple holding sharp knives, welcoming the Mexica sacrifices that were tied up one after another. The number of sacrifices is not too many, but the ritual of sacrifice is very complicated. Each god has different preferences, corresponding to a part of the sacrificial body.
Su Angua looked calm as he watched the blood blooming in front of the temple. His thoughts were suddenly in a trance.
"The Mexica people have always been famous for being good at offering sacrifices, and all the tribes in the world praise their piety. I wonder if I will have the opportunity to see the spectacular sacrificial ceremony with my own eyes..."
Thinking of this, the king felt a chill in his heart. He couldn't help but raise his head and look at the southern sky.
Going southeast from the "Palace of Winds", four to five hundred miles away, is Sitacuaro State. The undulating mountains and forests hinder the movement of large-scale armies, and the rivers flowing from north to south are natural marching channels. At the strategic points of the river, there are dense stone forts scattered all over.
The summer sun fell from the sky, illuminating the flags on the stone castle. The long wind blows, and the flag flutters with clear patterns, one third of which is the sun and hummingbirds.
Iskali, a royal nobleman, stood on a hill with a three-and-a-half-meter commander's flag on his back, staring firmly ahead.
Two hundred meters ahead is a small bluestone fortress. The stone fortress was covered with bloodstains of fighting, scattered corpses and broken arrows. At the highest point of the watchtower is the eagle flag of the Tarasco royal family. A jaguar warrior wearing a yellow beast helmet, covered in blood, strode to the top of the watchtower and broke the eagle flag. Behind him, the senior warrior in dark green uniform looked solemn, lowered his head and handed over the new flag.
Then, the Jaguar Warrior vigorously planted the flag at the highest point. He faced the long wind and suddenly shouted, calling the name of the Lord God. The flag unfurled in the wind, revealing the bright markings of the sun and the hummingbird. At this moment, seeing this exciting scene, thousands of Mexica warriors cheered loudly together, praising the victory bestowed by the Lord God!
On the hill, Iskali also lowered his head, stretched out his hand to cover his protruding cheekbones, and prayed a few words silently. Then, with a stern expression and a cold light in his eyes, he calmly called the guards beside him.
"How many prisoners were taken in this battle?"
"Two hundred Tarasco warriors, five hundred militiamen, most wounded."
"Leave no one behind."
Iskali waved his hand coldly, his voice as indifferent as usual. This stone fortress resisted resolutely, facing several times the number of enemies, powerful longbows and stone-throwing bombardments, but it still held firm for five days. The alliance warriors also suffered more than 200 casualties when they boarded the city... The commander of the South Road was not prepared to give any prisoners a chance to convert.
The guard bowed his head and agreed, then strode away. After a while, the priests accompanying the army built a simple altar, prayed to the supreme god, and offered sacrifices. Soon, sacred chants echoed inside and outside the fortress, and thousands of warriors knelt down in front of the holy fire, feeling the comfort of their souls and regaining their will to fight.
Iskali also knelt down and prayed. He whispered in his mouth, but his mind drifted to the capital with the wind.
"It's half past July, and only one-third of Sitacuaro State has been captured. The resistance of the Tarascans is becoming more and more tenacious, and the losses of the warriors are increasing. When will the respected king be able to lead the army? arrival?"
Changfeng continued to walk. Behind the commander of the South Road were a series of wooden camps, all the way to Lachiko State, the starting point of the grain road. In the mountains and forests outside the camp, many corpses dressed in Tarasco's clothes were scattered, dyeing the soil beneath them red. Around the camp, there are shallow mounds where Mexica warriors and militiamen are buried. After a moment of shouting and fighting, there is eternal peaceful sleep, regardless of whether it is friend or foe.
The warm sunshine shines down, treating everyone equally for hundreds of miles, but the appearance of the ground has changed. At this time, the Mexica Valley is full of lush greenery. Wildflowers bloom along the roadside, and green seedlings grow vigorously in the farmland.
Farmers carefully weed the fields and tend corn, soybeans and pumpkins. Occasionally they stopped working and looked at the large group of militiamen walking by the road, the sharp stone spears in their hands, and the tall bamboo baskets behind them. This is the militia that transports food to the southern front.
When the warriors in the front row pass by, the bold farmer will ask softly what the Tarascans in the West are like. The fighting two hundred miles away took place on the enemy's territory, and the alliance's spring plowing continued as usual. To the civilians of the Alliance, the war seems to be thousands of miles away, the end of the world.
The residents of the capital city in the lake are obviously well-informed. They were talking a lot in the great market of Tlatelolco in the north city, where busy caravans brought the latest inaccurate news. Under the guidance of the community priests, the residents of the capital talked loudly, imagining the overwhelming battle situation and discussing the destined victory.
In the king's palace, Avit sat high on the throne, wearing majestic robes of finery. He holds the latest paper book in his hand and is reviewing the mobilization report of the Texcoco Lake District. Next to the king, Gillim stood with his hands bowed, holding a pen and paper, his expression solemn, and he did not make a sound.
The king has all military maneuvers firmly in his hands. He looked at the counting symbols on the paper book and did quick and accurate mental calculations without the need for reporting or help from others. After a while, Avitt nodded with satisfaction.
"The vassals everywhere are quite honest. The Huastecs, Mixtecs, and Zapotecs all sent their second tribute of the summer. The distant Zapotecs did some tricks, The tribute is only two-thirds of what the alliance requires. The alliance is busy with farming and war, and it is indeed impossible to send troops to them. However, this is more like a temptation by the vassals and cannot be indulged at will!"
Avitt thought for a moment and made a decision.
"Gillim, dispatch 3,000 elite warriors and 500 jaguar nobles. Let them go to Mixtec in the south and make a detour to declare the alliance's force, and then join the southern route army to the west. At the same time, send an envoy to reprimand Zapotecs, let them make up for the shortfall in tribute with the tribute after the autumn harvest!”
Gillim nodded and accepted the order, writing down the decree. he asked in a low voice.
"Your Majesty, you will go on an expedition after the autumn harvest. If there is still a shortfall in the third tribute from the South at that time, what should be done?"
The king smiled.
"Then write down the shortfall and make up for it in the New Year's tribute. If there is still a shortfall...the alliance will not raise troops now, but it will keep it in mind and calculate it together in the future!"
Gilliam nodded solemnly.
"Your Majesty, as soon as the war started, the consumption of materials was like burning mountains and forests, disappearing piece by piece. The alliance's manpower and material resources were fully stretched. If it weren't for the tributes from vassals everywhere, it would be difficult to maintain. The Tarascans will only be worse than us. difficult."
Avitt nodded in agreement.
"Reporting some time ago, Iskali's southern route army has made good progress and has captured the outermost ring of stone forts. As long as Sitacuaro is captured, the Tarascans will have no danger of defending! Xiulote The Northern Route Army also successfully established a foothold on the Leman River and contained a large number of northern enemies. As for how to fight later, it depends on his own performance. "
Gilliam bowed his head and saluted.
"The Southern Route Army is the main force of the Western Expedition, and the Northern Route Army is only a partial division after all. As long as His Highness can attract reinforcements from the Chapala Lake area and maintain pressure on Akambalo State, it will be a great achievement!"
Hearing this, Avitt smiled softly. He didn't say much, just gave the order calmly.
"Gillim, continue to send envoys to the city-states of the alliance and urge them to mobilize warriors who do not need to farm as soon as possible and rush to the north and south front lines. Before the autumn harvest, another wave of offensives must be launched! Similarly, send envoys and scouts to the major forces to test their attitude towards the alliance. Attitude, observe the military mobilization situation. Tell Acap that he is doing well in the religious holy city of Cholula! Let him continue to talk about theology with the priests and elders there, and send him a batch of special tobacco and holy water!"
Hearing the name of the holy water, Gillim's hand froze, and his expression finally changed slightly. After a moment, the intelligence officer returned to normal and continued to record in his hand.
Then, Avitt stood up and looked towards the mountains to the northwest through the wide doors and windows. He thought silently in his heart.
"Xulot, you won't let me down..."
At this time, in the distant religious holy city, the towering mountain sanctuary of Cholula, Akapu trembled inexplicably. Wearing a gorgeous robe, with a face as graceful as a crown jewel, and as graceful as a messenger of the gods, he was laughing and chatting with a group of gray-haired old men.
The rich divine smoke floats in the sanctuary, exuding a pleasant and intoxicating strange atmosphere.
"Elder Akap, the view of the Supreme God you just talked about is very good, why did you stop suddenly?" A seemingly kind and noble old man sat cross-legged in front of him and asked with a smile.
Acap thought for a moment and felt that everything was normal, so he smiled and said with the same gentleness.
"Dear priest leader, the sacred smoke you burned is so precious that it made me intoxicated and completely forget myself."
The priest leader laughed and waved. Several elegantly dressed maids immediately stepped forward and poured more precious and expensive herbs and flowers into the exquisite copper incense burner.
"Then please ask Elder Akapu to continue to forget yourself and meet the God above all else in your dream!"
